A guest that left us gifts of learning

Swami, a local farmer, is also a snake catcher. We once saw him when was on his way to catch a snake in the neighbourhood. We asked him to bring us the snake that he finds, if it was a non-venomous one. An hour later he was at our doorstep with a snake in his hands and a small crowd of kids behind him.

Abhi and Aparna identified the snake as a Checkered Keelback; non-venomous, likes water. Abhi got the snake from Swami and bagged it. The crowd swelled since adults wanted to take a peek too. I told the adults that my kids had my permission to handle the snake. After much commotion and excitement, we sent back the curious kids saying that Abhi will take the bagged snake to our farm and release it there. A few minutes after everyone left, Aparna tied an empty sack and handed it to Abhi. He went on his bicycle carrying the empty sack, a gesture that was necessary to silence the neighbours.

Now, accommodating our new guest was a piece of cake! The kids had a home ready and waiting for this moment. It was a special home that they had built out of cardboard, with all kinds of textures: Soft rags, coconut husk and shells, cardboard tunnels, small pieces of wood, sand, a shallow water dish and rocks. There are two steel-mesh vents at the top, a hinged lid and handmade cardboard locks. This terrarium sits in a sheltered corner in our back balcony.

 

As they settled into their cozy bed that night, the kids worried that their new friend may not be cozy in its new home. In compensation for the cold night the snake might have had, the next morning they gave him a warm water bath!

The kids had learned from Whitaker’s book and other sources that the checkered keelback’s bite can be quite painful but that it can be tamed. The next morning when they were handling the snake, true to its nature, it promptly nipped Abhi near the wrist. Abhi said that it was milder than a house lizard bite! He thought his handling of the snake was nervous since he was fearful of the bite but now that he knew, he could be more relaxed and so also the snake.

The next need to be addressed was exposure to the sunlight. After a bit of brain storming, the kids poked some holes on the lid of a plastic water bottle. They filled a small amount of water in the bottle, coaxed the snake into it, screwed the lid on and put it out in a sunny spot. The snake seemed confused and kept trying to poke through the bottle. The kids were feeling sorry for it. They thought that the transparency of the container might be the issue. So they decided to cover one half of the bottle and saw that the snake receded into that part of the bottle. This sunning routine was repeated every morning.

I had told the kids that they would have to release it in a couple of days when they brought it in. But I didn’t see that happening. When I argued for the snake’s freedom they said that they wanted to observe the snake’s moulting, feeding and pooping before releasing it. The consensus around the house being what it was, I decided to keep quiet.

While the captured creature was much loved and cared for, the kids were sad that it couldn’t really appreciate their love for it. Sometimes in their discussion they would fondly call it “Checkered-O”. After a week, the kids were obsessed about feeding the snake. They were constantly coming up with ideas on how to feed him. With the help of a friend, they identified a few sources where they could get frogs from. They caught a frog, put it in the sunning bottle with the lid open and left it in the terrarium. But the captive snake looked sluggish and didn’t seem to care about food and the lucky frog escaped. This was worrisome. For the next couple of days, every time we sat down to eat we were remembering that our snake hadn’t eaten for long. Then it was Abhi who suddenly said, “But of course, it isn’t eating because it is going to shed it skin. Look at his eyes! They seem blurry from the loosening of skin around them.”

The next few days were filled with anticipation and agony. Sometimes I heard them discuss whether they were right in their observations and what if the poor creature starved to death. But our worries proved unfounded; in a few days the old skin was indeed peeling away! That was a moment of relief and celebration for all of us. One time as Abhi held it, the snake drew itself out of its old skin as if taking off a dirty sock. After the new and beautiful skin was completely revealed, we noticed that the snake was also much more energetic. The kids rushed to the farm to catch another frog and once again it was put into the bottle and left inside the terrarium. The next morning the frog was missing but our guest had a small bump in its body. The kids were proud.

Now that moulting was off the list, I was getting impatient. I wanted the snake to go. But the kids said that they had two more things on their list and were saying that the snake was clearly not in any danger here. I reluctantly agreed. In a day or two while Abhi was handling the snake, it pooped on his shirt and he was as happy as can be. He went around showing his shirt to everyone.

Aparna loved Checkered-O but wanted it to have a good life in the wild soon. Abhi didn’t have the heart yet to let it go. He said that he was playing over in his mind about its release and would soon be able to do it. Dev and I decided not to say anything.

Another week went by and another feeding was tried, but this time unsuccessfully. By this time they felt some contentment with all that they have been able to do with this snake. We had had it for over three weeks now but before it was to let go there was one more thing to do. The kids knew that I had carefully avoided going anywhere near the snake. I freaked out every time I saw it slither or put its forked tongue out. Abhi said it was time for me to face my fear and they pleaded with me to hold the creature. With Aparna holding it and constantly reminding me that it is a beautiful and harmless creature, I finally touched the snake. It was a brief moment of touching a smooth surface while holding my breath.

Checkered-O was put into a cloth bag and we set off to the farm. On our way we stopped to show our village kids what he had in our bag. In no time a big crowd had gathered. Snakes are not new to villagers but they are something to fear and instantly killed on sight, venomous and non-venomous. A couple of kids came forward to tentatively touch the snake. Perhaps this safe encounter, with two children holding a much feared animal, might make a bit of difference in their perception.

After reaching the farm the kids released Checkered-O into a tiny pond that they had built in their garden area. It didn’t like the exposed pond. The kids then quickly piled up some rubble and coconut fronds and made a temporary hiding place for Checkered-O knowing that it can be safe from the raptors till it finds its own home.

Bye-bye Checkered-O!

-- Hema

Ed. note (02-Jan-2017):  Fixed some font related issues.

Cob building with friends

Pictures from cob building fun at the farm. This will be our temporary day time kitchen during the next few months when the house construction will be under way.

Cob-mixing dance!

Our youngest worker.

The completed north wall with half finished mud plaster.

Grandma arrived just in time to do multiple coats of white wash.

The kitchen is ready!

A road is laid

After the drama for obtaining the access to the farm was over, we were faced with the need to build a usable road. So what was the problem to solve? The new road had to ramp down across a few feet of an erosive road-side ditch, then run through a 100-foot stretch in between the (illegal) mango orchard, then across a 12-foot wide runoff creek, finally ramping up into the farm.  Initially all we did was to employ an earth-mover to push dirt over the eroded road-side and then had a rough pathway manually cleared in-between the mango trees. This served as a temporary road until the next rains which washed out most of the roadside ramp. We spent the next several weeks evaluating the kind of road that we could have there. RCC and cement masonry structures were ruled out due to the costs involved. It was clear that our access pathway had to accommodate significant amount of runoff from the hills, and allow it to join the creek without eroding away the pathway itself. Among the resources we had looked at was this excellent document on dirt roads but none of its ideas directly translated to our situation. One idea in the document was that in situations such as ours you would elevate the road and allow water to flow along side in an appropriately sized drain. Given that all that our neighbour was allowing us was an 8 to 9-foot wide pathway, we couldn’t have a road and drain it too. We literally had to share the path with the water. After some more deliberation, we decided to pack this path with stone and random rubble and let the water flow over it.

In a way the selected solution was staring us in the face all along. We had local expertise and local material. The expertise came in the form of the stone mason, old man Ram Baidu, who lives in the settlement next door. In his younger years Ram Baidu has built well linings, revetments, embankments, stone masonry walls – in short any stone structure you can think of. Although he is considered too old to be employed now, we still decided to hire him as lead mason with his sons working under his instructions. Interestingly, a significant part of the settlement, named Sai Nagar, consists of Ram's assortment of sons and daughters, all married, some separated, but all with children or grand-children. This makes Ram, in his relatively young old age, a great grandfather. So it occurs me me that while the nearby hamlet of rich land owning caste looks empty and forlorn with mostly old people biding their time, Sai Nagar, thanks in part to Ram's descendants who haven't flown to the cities to make their livelihoods, is always abuzz with folks of all ages. You can see children playing in the street or walking their goats to the hills for grazing, women chatting near the water taps, and old folks just hanging out watching the world turn around them. But I must get back to technical matters. So where would the material come from? The hills around are strewn with rocks of all sizes. And sitting in the farm are are three small hillocks of small gravel, the result of our well digging two years ago.

Here are some pictures of how it was all done.

Ram and his son Vasu lay angular stones on the creek bed which had been excavated about a foot. The ramp at the back forms the entry into our land. The angular stones were given us by our (previously hostile) neighbour for free.

Creek bed is nearly complete.

Looking back towards the farm through the mango orchard.

In-between the mango trees. All stone used here was found in the local hills and hand collected.

The gravel road now more than three-quarters done as the work proceeds towards the ramp leading to the public dirt road. Ram's daughter, who also helped with the project, is seen on the ramp.

The stone cladding is filled in with rubble/gravel excavated when we got our well dug two years ago. The idea is that as different grades of gravel are packed-in, the result will be able to resist surface flow much better. Ideally we should get a road-roller to compact everything down but where does one rent a road roller in Athimanjeri? We will have to wait until the end of the year monsoonal rains to see how this performs.

And finally the ramp to the public road.

Post rain update: The NE monsoon has failed this year. There was just one rain in the month of November. But now, at the time of publishing this, we are receiving some cyclonic rains and the road has held up pretty good so far.

- D & H

What Floats And Slithers

On a morning last week, when I got to the farm, Arul took me to the underground sump tank and invited me to look inside. As I peered through square opening of the tank I could see a slim snake in the water with its head sticking above water. It seemed to have been there all night and dining on the little frogs in the tank.  It obviously couldn’t climb out of the tank since the water level was too low.

Arul is a friend who sometimes stays on our neighbour’s farm. Knowing Abhi’s interest in snakes, he insisted that I call Abhi to come and take a look at the floating creature. When I came home and broke the news, both Abhi and Aparna couldn’t wait to get to the farm. They shoved the last bits of breakfast into their mouths and packed a snake hook (made by Abhi, a simple blunt hook attached to the end of a three foot bamboo stick) and a camera.

We rushed back to the farm and got to business right away. Abhi said, “It is one of the Big Fours, one of the most venomous snakes in India – the common Krait”. He later added, “It has white bands on its black body and the head doesn’t have bands. It can swim, so it is safe here. It seems to like the place since it is cool and provides food. It is nocturnal and so wouldn’t want to leave this place now.” Aparna nodded approvingly.

We had rice transplanting happening at the farm that day. There were labourers at work. We decided not to talk about the snake since they would immediately want to kill it. We decided to leave the snake undisturbed in the water since it was not posing an immediate threat to us. We also agreed on attending to it once the workers left. A couple of times during the day I spotted the kids visiting the tank to take to look at the Krait. I was staying alert all the while to make sure they knew their limits.

After the workers left and as the day started cooling down a bit, Arul, Abhi and Dev decided to do the rescue. (Aparna meanwhile was talking with Dev to ensure that Abhi wasn’t going to be allowed to take any serious risks.) Their initial ideas of using a sack with long sticks and of using a bucket got ruled out for safety reasons. Both the sack and the bucket at hand were not deep enough to contain the snake. But perhaps a water barrel might do the trick. So while Aparna and I stood watching, the three got to work.

Using a rope Arul lowered a 200 litre plastic barrel into the water. He got it to float horizontally with its open mouth approaching the snake. Just at this moment Arul decided that it would help to fill the barrel with a little water. As he was letting some water into the barrel, he asked Abhi to goad the snake into the barrel. The Krait was comfortably coiled around a ledge when Abhi nudged it with the snake-hook. Meanwhile a lot of water was entering the barrel and while Arul was trying to empty it, the barrel started to spin slowly and it got difficult to manage. I suddenly heard Abhi cry out, “IT IS CLIMBING!”

The next thing I saw was the Krait lying on the ground, about two meters from us. The frozen snake  took several seconds to find its bearing before slithering into a nearby Calotropis bush. I later came to know what had actually happened.

Because Abhi thought the snake was attempting to climb the snake-hook, he panicked and instead of letting go of the stick, he drew it out of the tank. So the snake-hook, with the snake attached, was flung up and to the side, while Abhi ran in the opposite direction. Thankfully, the arc of the serpent’s flight managed to avoid Arul who was right alongside ministering the barrel. 

On retrospection we realized that it was a bad idea to try to fill the barrel and to have had too short a pole attached to the snake-hook. 

-- Hema

The Road To Our Farm

After looking for land for several months, we ended up buying five acres in Athimanjeri, TN in 2013. This land didn’t have an easy access and we were not particularly bothered by it. The neighbour on the North had introduced us to this place and we were to go through their farm to get to ours. Soon after the purchase, we rented a house in the nearby village and started bicycling to our land through this neighbouring land. This was quite a fun ride for the children too. But then, in a few months, this neighbour instructed us to not enter their premises. We were quite puzzled and felt stranded in this new place.

Our land has creeks on three sides. These creeks are now dried up for the most part of the year; they flow after heavy rains. So, the other option was to walk in the creek for twenty minutes and reach our land. I wanted to explore this route. But just as soon as I stepped into the creek, the buzz of flies and a waft of unpleasant odour greeted me into the pooping zone, which happened to be the first hundred meters or so. Open defecation is not a problem by itself; but leaving the excreta exposed definitely is. I felt like throwing up. Disappointment, sadness, betrayal and anguish were raging inside me. 

Due to this upheaval, I went through several emotional phases during the following months. Being in denial, I just couldn’t come to terms with the reality. But then, I really wanted to get to the farm and work there every day. What was I to do? 

I started thinking deeply about human waste and the problems it poses. My readings on this subject helped me understand the history of the flush toilets as we know them today. So, clearly these local people do not pollute the oceans; they do not spend exorbitant amount energy that is needed by the sewage treatment plants; they do not waste water. Of course, they have increased their exposure to pathogens by leaving the poop open. To quote Joseph Jenkins from “The humanure handbook”:

“The world is divided into two categories of people: those who shit in their drinking water supplies and those who don’t. “

In the mornings, with this new found understanding, I equipped myself mentally before the arduous walk. I remember restraining my vision strictly to the next step and reminding myself to not look on the sides or anywhere else. This got me across on some days. On other days I sang loudly just so I didn’t catch anyone in action and also attempted to be cheerful. Sometimes I reminded myself that this was not so bad as I was perceiving it to be and that it was a mind game after all. This worked too.

Once I crossed this initial stretch, the place was clean and beautiful  – a creek with big boulders, tall trees lining the banks, lots of birds chirping, sunlight getting filtered though the canopy. “How can humans pollute this beautiful place? How did this level of disconnect come into existence? Do I have to go through this every day?” As these thoughts crept in, I used to burst into tears. Thankfully, the farm work healed me once I got there. But, the way back was again an ordeal. I was almost always irritable after getting home and Dev was usually my target. He began to see a pattern behind this and once asked me, “Hema, was there too much poop on the way today?” Somehow, poop didn’t bother him. The kids’ attitude was mostly a reflection of mine. Thus it was quite imperative that I mended my ways. I started meditating on this. Slowly I could walk the pooping zone without much agitation, but wanted to avoid it if I could.

About the same time, I started collecting data as to how we can obtain access and learned to study the field measurement maps. The maps showed us that our neighbour on the South had encroached into the Government land that could potentially be our access point. To understand this better, I decided to bicycle this alternate route along the hillside. Since this neighbour had blocked this access point, I had to ride up further and make a circuitous entry into our land. This was about three km bicycle ride one way, partly on a dirt road going uphill. At this point, we didn’t own a motorised vehicle. We were experimenting life without one for more than three years.

I preferred the strenuous bicycle ride to walking through the pooping zone. I was looking forward to mornings. The road passed through a small village. The rangolis infront of the houses, kids playing outside, cows, chicken, goats and everything I saw on the way lifted my spirit.

In our battle to gain access, we decided against bribes and using contacts/influences. So my next one year went in meeting various Government Officers, waiting long in lines, seeing our petition move from one table to another without much happen at the ground level, maintaining a paper trail of all the meeting minutes and sending those to all the Officers involved, writing thank you letters for any little progress that was made, responding to a false law suit filed by the encroaching neighbour and facing the threats of this neighbour.

I gained insight into Governmental operations. I learned that speaking and writing in English earned their respect. I also learned that the Officers had no real incentive to offer a viable solution to any petitioner. The Officers didn’t want to create a precedent, so they would rather not act.

Around this time, Dev suffered a tendon injury in his heel which lasted several months. There was an overwhelming amount of work that needed my time and attention. So we decided to simplify things for me and bought a moped.

It was almost a year of chasing the Government machinery. Since things simply didn’t work, we decided to make use of our friends’ connections. We were put in touch with one of the topmost, state level Officers. He saw the legal bearing that our access petition had and made sure that our case was resolved. It was like magic.

Finally after more than two years, we can now reach our land easily. It was sad for me to see this neighbour yield to power and not respect or humanity that we showed him earlier. He recently invited us home for lunch, withdrew the law suit and claimed to be our friend!

-- Hema