Emu Farming and India

I have followed with interest (and some trepidation) the media coverage of commercial Emu farming that is gaining popularity around the country. The volume of information obtained by an internet search on the subject is indicative of the marketing activities focused at luring farmers to easy money.

Over the past couple of days I have also searched the internet, albeit without success, for endorsements and environmental clearances from appropriate Government departments on Emu-farming. I am left wondering whether appropriate ecological impact analysis was carried out before Emu-farming was commercially introduced into the country.  

This brings forth my nagging fear about the bird going feral in the Indian hinterland. The Emu is an exotic species without any natural predators in our ecosystem. Accidental or intentional release of mating pairs of these birds in the wild could establish a feral population in the wild. They would ravage crops and fruits, as well as populations of indigenous insects and small amphibians, already reeling under the indiscriminate use of pesticides.

I have blogged in the past on the environmental and economic impact of invasive species. We are acutely aware of the detrimental environmental, health and economic impact of invasive species such as Parthenium and Lantana in our country. Nations across the globe also bear the economic burden of managing feral animal populations. In Australia in particular, rabbits to camels (and many animals in-between) have been released from livestock into the wild by early settlers - out of love or ignorance. Exploding populations of these feral animals have necessitated allocation of large government funds for pest management. While contributing to the national GNP and creating exotic professions such as feral boar-hunting, such funds could definitely be put to better use elsewhere in the economy. Emus have been known feral culprits in the Australian outback, necessitating culling on war footing.

There are thriving Emu farms in Tamil Nadu and Andhra Pradesh. Emu meat reportedly sells at around Rs.450/= per kg in Bangalore, way above the price of the pale poultry. Manifestos have been written on the virtues of the fat-free Emu meat. It is also claimed that almost every part of an Emu can be commercialised, creating a lucrative picture for Emu-farming to the debt-ridden Indian farmer, currently contemplating a rope from the branch of the nearest tree.

But do we have the capability (and appetite) of controlling this (and other) alien species ? The glimmer of my hope lies squarely on the hungry millions in India, capable of decimating any avian population, feral or otherwise. Though bigger than a goat, an Emu is a bird, nonetheless. The flight fancy of the flightless wonder might well remain unrealized in India.

That is, if the animal rights brigade doesn’t clamour a prohibition to such jolly hunting and feasting !

Pictures and Memories - The Ladakh Journey - V

Leaving Leh around 8.00am, we travelled the Leh-Manali Highway to Upshi, crossed the Indus at the Mahe bridge and drove along the Indus towards Puga. We reached the Puga Sumdoh (literally meaning ‘the crossing at Puga’) in the afternoon. The sumdoh near Puga village is an important 3-way intersection, leading to Leh, Tso Moriri and Tso Kar (and onward to Manali via Rohtang). Of course, there are no road signs and nor many souls to seek directions. We reached Tso Moriri late early in the evening.

(Click images to enlarge)

 

Flocks of Bar-Headed Geese rested with their chicks along the water’s edge. The geese lay eggs and raise their young here during the summer and migrate to the Indian plains in winter. I have myself seen Bar-Headed Geese at the Veer reservoir near Pune (Maharashtra) and at Kaziranga (Assam) during the winter. Marshes on the periphery of the lake support rich avifauna and is now protected as a wetland bio-reserve.

The next day, we retraced the road till Puga Sumdoh and turned to Tso Kar. There are geo-thermal springs near Thukjey village not far from Puga and the smell of sulphur filled the air as we neared. In the wetlands to the left of the road were flocks of water birds, mostly waders. In the distance were two pairs of black-necked cranes, too far out to be photographed. We stopped more than half an hour to watch the cranes waltzing and feeding. Native to the Tibetan plateau and revered by locals, these cranes are now endangered due to loss of habitat in their homeland and poaching during their winter migration to the Indian plains.

There were marmots (the Long-Tailed Marmot and the Himalayan Marmot) aplenty on the way, as well as packs of wild yak. Near Polokongka La, we saw the first lone kiang – the Tibetan wild ass. The valley was strewn with clumps of wild summer bloom.

We drove past settlements of the Changpa nomads at the pass and the valley around. These nomads raise yaks and graze their flocks of sheep in the rolling arid valleys.   

We reached Tso Kar in the afternoon.

The water of Tso Kar is crystal-clear and brackish. There is a dusty trail on the edge of the lake.  

As we drove around the lake, a herd of about 11 Kiangs galloped across the trail ahead of our vehicle, They stood in a line, alert and watching us from a distance. After sometime, they adjudged us harmless and dispersed to forage. The wetlands on the water’s edge had plenty of waders.

Next morning we took the Leh-Manali highway driving across the large plateau called the More Plain, to reach Pang.

Pang is a cluster of tents in summer where bikers rest overnight on their drive to Leh.

The tents at Pang offer the basics of life to the traveller, including a cot and blankets at Rs.100/= per night.  

Lachulung La at 16,616 feet is the last of the high altitude passes en-route Manali.

The air is chilly and sheet ice glistens under the midday summer sun at the pass.

Landslides on the mountain roads are constant reminders of our struggle against the forces of nature. Road repair crews from the nearest Border Roads Organization (BRO) staff lines appear almost from nowhere to clear debris and keep roads motorable. Once again, hats off to the BRO and its incessant efforts, that we managed to adhere to our travel plan. 

 

(Travelogue to be concluded)

Pictures and Memories - The Ladakh Journey - IV

Our next excursion was for Tso Pangong (Pangong Lake). Driving from Leh we crossed the Chang La pass to reach Pangong. We encountered summer snowfall on the way

Chang La top had the now-familiar gompa (shrine) draped in prayer flags

An army convoy began rolling out from the top as we parked

The road downhill from Chang La - wet patches are from melting snow deposited by vehicle wheels

Onward to Tso Pangong…

A gaggle of black-headed gulls greet visitors at the water’s edge at Tso Pangong. One of the largest lakes in Ladakh, Pangong is more than 130km long and about 5km at its widest. A land-locked endorheic lake, The Pangong does not flow out into any river or stream, water being lost only to evaporation and seepage. About 60% of the lake lies in China

The water of the lake changes hues with reflected light throughout the day…

There are a few basic tented accommodations on the bank of the lake. The double-bedded field tents are sturdy and well-secured to stand-up to the chilly winds that blow down the hills and across the water. The wind carries pale dust as fine as talcum powder, that is continuously deposited on all exposed surfaces

The rocks are mossy, the water crystal clear and extremely salty. Evaporation continuously increases the concentration of minerals in the water. The salinity of the water is a surprise, given that we usually expect lakes to be freshwater !

As everywhere, the faithful build prayer columns beside the lake

Moving on - Tso Kiagar, en route Tso Moriri

The drive to Tso Moriri, through hills of slithering gravel

Tso Moriri is reached mostly by following tracks. There are no roads, roadsigns or residents to provide directions…

Pictures and Memories - The Ladakh Journey - III

The next leg of our Ladakh trip took us north of Leh to the Nubra valley via Khardung La. Khardung La is the highest motorable road in the country, cutting through the mountain ranges at 18,380 feet. The pass has a shrine engulfed in a cloud of fluttering prayer flags, offered by passing devotees.

The Srinagar-Leh National Highway (NH-1D) is cleared of snow and opened to civilian traffic only around mid-June every year, remaining snow-bound and inaccessible for more than half the year. Journeying across Ladakh, one is humbled by the untiring effort and commitment of the Army and the Border Roads Organization that ensure roads remain motorable in remote mountainous terrain, through hostile climate and inclement weather conditions.

We were forewarned not to halt too long at the Khardung La, in order to avoid ill effects of the rarefied air. The pass has a small canteen run by the Army regiment posted in the area, that sells hot black ‘masala chai’, veg momos and of course, piping hot Maggi. Posters on the wall script the virtues of drinking black tea and eating Maggi !         

The 'JULLY' (pronounced - jooley) in the poster is the local equivalent of 'namastey'. Everyone begins a conversation - specially with a visitor - with this greeting. It was recommended that we use this greeting frequently in our conversations with friendly locals.
 
Travelling across the mountains in our MUV, we were amazed to pass teams of cyclists pedalling up steep gradients in the rarified air laden with their camping gear - including ladies and gents who appeared to be riding on their own. Most of these intrepid cyclists were visiting foreigners. Chatting with them I was amazed to know that some of them have made repeated cycling expeditions to Ladakh.

 

Ladakh is a veritable paradise for geologist and geography students, with varied topography and rock formations, some of which are possibly unique in India. We travelled beyond Diskit to see the high altitude sand dunes, on the banks of the river Shyok near Hunder. Sand dunes at an elevation of over 10,000 feet are awe inspiring.

The Shyok is just a shallow stream at Hunder, as it flows down the valley. Summer is a blessed relief and time for celebrations in snow-bound Ladakh. We found a bus-full of school children frolicking in the chilled water - some dipped in the minimum of clothing, while a couple of small boys were into the water in their school uniform - shoes, ties, blazer and all. Clicking them would make a mockery of their unhindered jubilation, I felt.  

The glacier-fed Shyok, a tributary of the mighty Indus, flows subdued through the wide Hunder valley.

A drive along the vast sandy riverbed allows one to appreciate how wide and mighty the river may have once been. It would be fascinating to understand the reasons for this spectacular transformation.    

The sun is intense on a summer day - but peeling off clothing and putting ones foot into the flowing stream may not be as pleasant as expected. Ladakh is one of those fascinating places where one can get sunburnt and chilled, at the same time. High altitude UV radiation quickly burns the skin and the flowing water in the stream comes from melting glaciers, so cold that the foot goes numb. Full-sleeves and a heavy sunscreen is recommended and as well as trying the water before dipping !

Downstream, the Shyok joins the river Nubra and the confluence flows into the scenic Nubra valley.

The well-irrigated Nubra valley stands out as a green oasis amidst the barren Ladakhi landscape. The woods and thickets in the valley support rich avifauna, with the black-billed magpie conspicuous all around.

While there were summer clouds in parts of Ladakh during our visit, rains were very light drizzles, at most. This frame was shot facing east, with the sun dazzling behind heavy clouds hanging over the Nubra valley. Our speeding vehicle blurred the foreground.

Ladakh lies on the leeward side of the Karakoram ranges and is therefore deprived of heavy showers, leaving the land parched and barren. This landscape near Tirich Tso, is typical. People have painstakingly laid stones to mark out a track

Almost the entire annual precipitation in Ladakh is in the form of snowfall. 
But Trust the ‘RainMan’. I must share that we received rainfall with all the flash and bang, during our second night in the Nubra valley. It rained so heavily that I woke up in the dark of the night, alarmed if our tent would cave in. I became worried whether roads would get snowed-over, delaying our return to Leh. The weather-proof tent held through the rain and wind. And in the bright blue morning, the only trace of overnight rain was the damp soil and the glistening sheet of fresh snow on the hilltops all around.

This frame taken while returning to Leh from the Nubra valley is another typical topography. The land is hard-baked almost to stone, the ‘rain-bearing’ clouds are surreal, deceptive and the soil erosion is due to water run-off from melting winter snow. 

Pictures and Memories : The Ladakh Journey - II

It is common to find streamers of prayer flags strung across peaks and mountain passes all over Ladakh (and other hill-tracts of India having significant Buddhist populations). View of fluttering streamers spanning hillocks next to the Royal Palace In Leh

The Shanti Stupa is a Buddhist chorten on a hilltop at Chanspa adjacent to Leh town. The stupa dedicated to world peace was built by the Japanese monk Gyomyo Nakamura in 1991 and consecrated by HH the 14^th Dalai Lama. A walk around the stupa offers a 360-degree panoramic view of the terrain around Leh. Restoration was underway when we visited the stupa

Close-up of Shakyamuni mural at the Shanti Stupa, highlighting Japanese inscriptions

Detail of boddhisatva mural at the stupa

Maintenance and restoration was underway at the Shanti Stupa when we visited

We met this venerable Lama as we climbed up the steep stairs to the Hemis monastery

Devotee prays turning the prayer wheel during the festival at Hemis monastery

Lamas of all ages were in attendance at Hemis

Shtakna gompa (monastery) of the Drukpa sect stands on a hillock on the bank of the river Indus, about 25 km from Leh. Established in the 16^th century by a Bhutanese monk and scholar, the word Shtakna means “tiger’s nose”

The Thiksey gompa of the Gelugpa (Yellow Hat) sect of Tibetan Buddhists, is said to resemble the Potala Palace, the original seat of the Dalai Lama in Lhasa. Located about 19km east of Leh at an altitude of above 11,000ft, this gompa is a 12-storied complex housing precious Buddhist religious artifacts.