In April 2009, I went to northern India to migrate with a tribe of nomadic water buffalo herders. For forty-four days I lived and traveled with the Van Gujjar people, who were forced as they are each spring to leave the lowland jungles where they graze their animals in winter. With temperatures soaring to 110 degrees, the foliage was dying and water sources were drying up, leaving nothing for the herds to eat or drink. In order to survive, they had to move.
Over paved roads and...
more »In April 2009, I went to northern India to migrate with a tribe of nomadic water buffalo herders. For forty-four days I lived and traveled with the Van Gujjar people, who were forced as they are each spring to leave the lowland jungles where they graze their animals in winter. With temperatures soaring to 110 degrees, the foliage was dying and water sources were drying up, leaving nothing for the herds to eat or drink. In order to survive, they had to move.
Over paved roads and dirt trails, through bustling towns and silent forests, across rivers and mountain passes, I trekked with one family up into the Himalayas, where they would spend the summer tending their buffaloes. In the fall, they'd head back down to the jungle, by then rejuvenated by monsoons.
This nomadic cycle has existed in this part of India for over a thousand years, but may not last for many more.
The most immediate threat to Van Gujjar culture is the creation of national parks, as park authorities try to keep nomads out of now-protected wilderness where they've roamed for ages. The family I was traveling with was aiming for their traditional summer range, which has been absorbed into Govind National Park and park officials swore to keep them out.
Desperate to get their buffaloes to a meadow or face catastrophe, the family had to scramble to find a place to take their animals, Though they ultimately managed to get their herds to grass, they had to travel twice as far as usual, to a meadow about three thousand feet higher, much colder and more remote. Even more difficult than the physical journey was the uncertainty pervading it - and looming over their future. If they are shut out of their meadows and not allowed to migrate, their herds will die, their families will suffer greatly, and their way of life will disappear.
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