Finding my Querencia

Derived from the Spanish word ‘querer ’or ‘to desire’ – Querencia encapsulates a place where one feels at home. A quiet sense of belonging. In this essay, I explore this concept a bit further.

Sometimes I close my eyes and try to ponder my earliest memory. A visual and really vivid memory of a childhood version of me. Something that I can still recollect as the 30-something woman that I am today.

Try this for yourself.

Do not look at photographs or things of the past like old stamps, cassettes, or brown-paper covered books. And do not listen to songs of that era that transport you back to that moment when you first heard it on the radio.

These ephemeral things trigger memories quite potently – but in pursuing this exercise, they would mislead you.

Do not think of stories or narrations from your childhood where someone else (typically a parent or relative) is telling you that “As a child, you would do/say this all the time.”

Just the earliest memory you can remember of your childhood self without any cues or clues at all. How far back can you go?

I would hazard a guess that you would not be younger than five years of age. Experts say that it is this childhood memory that ends up shaping a huge chunk of your adult identity.

“It seems that there is nothing as powerful as a memory created by a child’s experience. Conversations regarding childhood memories are most often brought up as stories to connect to others. It is like saying “I was always this way.” Any listener will understand a childhood story. We all have them. We all can relate.” (Kottova, A. 2010)

For me - it is a slightly later memory of where I am almost six years old.

It goes back to the house we lived in at Chickmagalur, Karnataka. My mother was then the CEO, Zilla Panchayat of the entire district and ours was the third house on the road, after the Deputy Commissioners’ (DC) house and the Superintendent of Police’s (SP) house. The house was a distinct coral-peachy colour with a sloping roof, a large porch and ample parking space – it looked like the kind I would read about in all my story books.

A garden wove all around the house and at the far right-corner, (adjoining the DC house’s back wall) was a massive Peepul tree that was easily a hundred years old.

And I was someone who was often seen running around the large garden with one of the staff members chasing after me, usually to keep watch. My favourite was a gentleman named Basavaraju who showed me the difference between a Kammballi-hulla (Moth caterpillar or Blanket Worm) and a Chakkali-hulla (Millipede). He taught me the correct way to pull out the weeds from our tomato patch and how to catch butterflies and moths, gently.

Amidst those carefree days, lies my earliest well-defined memory.

One particular day, I remember using a tea-strainer for the necessary task of chasing and catching butterflies.

Then our kitchen help, Ratnamma came running out to tell me that she needed to use the tea strainer for the purpose of making the evening tea “before Madam comes” and so could she have it back, please. I immediately protested and when she sympathetically told me that there was no other option in that moment– I remember sulking.

The next day, the staff handed me a much-larger and lighter tea strainer that they had bought for the exclusive purpose of my catching butterflies. And I remember running across the garden, leaping about, swinging this improvised butterfly-net-tea-strainer around like Mowgli. I remember lots of laughter, scraped knees, minor scratches on my palms and wrists, and muddy frocks in the days and weeks that followed.

I do not remember ever catching an actual butterfly, but I did have some success in trapping a large moth or two. Then I would draw it out into the palm of my hand, peer at it closely to see its dotted patterns and look for its eyes. I would release them by throwing my hands up in the air – sometimes be left bewildered as to why they weren’t flying away. I remember being ticklish at the tread of a moth against my wrist and then trying to blow them off my arm.

With memories like these, it is easy to understand why my first love and passion is for Mother Nature and our wondrous Earth.

My love for all things green was nurtured by my late grandmother. Aaboo, (it means Grandmother in Assamese) was in fact a self-taught botanist and knew the names of flowers, creepers, vines and trees at the top of her head. She would often joke around that as she became older– May God give her the capacity to forget the names of people she disliked, but never of all the plants she knew!

My childhood bestie - Aaboo!

A childhood spent with my grandmother meant that during a class – when my teacher asked – “Stand up and tell us your favourite flower and why,” Eight-year old me responded with – “Currently, it is between Frangipani and Flame of the Forest!”

Consequently, every single head turned to stare and even the otherwise bored teacher did a double-take. The look on everyone’s face suggested that I was either some wunderkind or a ‘homeschooled jungle freak’. (Yup, a Mean Girls reference!)

And I, who had had barely any social interaction with children my age until then, knew in my gut that I suddenly put a target on my own back!

Sadly, as I grew up and grew older, the landscape around me changed. I moved from Chickmagalur to Bangalore and to other Indian megacities and then onto to some other cities of the world.

That curiosity about the natural world that I could so fearlessly chase as a child, dissipated.

I no longer chased butterflies, nor was I the little girl who collected tortoises for friends. And I was definitely no longer that one member of the family who was summoned when any stray animal scurried into our home - rats, bats, small birds, even snakes, did not frighten me as child!

With the boarding schools and peer socialisation with girls who came from heteronormative families, a fear of the natural world slowly set in.

The natural world in my own head became called ‘wild’ or analogous terms like “wildlife”, “jungles” or “sanctuaries” – what was now mostly inaccessible and unknown to me too. My visual eye would still process Bangalore’s flowering trees every now and then, but I began experiencing plant-blindness in all the other cities I resided in.

I became an urban denizen who loved Nature but mostly in theory.

Into my 20s, my professional world was all about the Environment, Environmental Law, Sustainable Development and Climate Change.

But practically, my access to forests and rivers, the ocean, unique habitats and ecosystems was always time carved out from competing interests. Interests that are perfectly valid if you want to be a woman who is well loved and regarded in society such as work, studies, time for family -especially your marital home, your spouse, your social calendar, your social media even.

I consider myself privileged and extremely fortunate that the wheels of time have given me a chance to reclaim myself – that early childhood self. The 30-something divorced me has carved out a world where all those competing interests have dispersed.

I now work hard at something I love doing, but the rest of my time I spend exploring places and corners of the country that let me reconnect with Mother Nature. Every activity that I consciously do today is to increase my proximity to Nature – physically, mentally, and spiritually.

And I am not writing this here just to make a snazzy statement. Keep watching this space, or rather, reading my essays and I shall tell you all about it – whether it is the clothes I buy, food choices or my daily routine. All this is getting fine-tuned to a healthier and more sustainable pattern with each passing month.

Earlier this month, my mother and I snuck in a getaway to the lush environs of the Chorla Ghats. They are the Western Ghats that lie at the tristate border of Maharashtra, Karnataka and Goa. Nestled in those rainforests in an eco-resort was where the ‘wild’ became a little more accessible again – all sorts of snails, cicadas and an occasional frog became residents of our balcony. If they gently made their way into our room, it rekindled that sense of delight reminiscent of six-year old me.

The best part of the two-night stay was that I actually spent more time outside our room and into the forests than indoors. There were expert guides that led you into the designated portion of the wilderness. Trust me when I tell you that it is not for the faint-hearted or for someone coping with any debilitating physical ailment because in the monsoon – that landscape is equally dangerous as it is magical.

But, when a city-dwelling gal like me, gets a chance to walk through a forest – there is a moment when I realise that each of my five senses has awakened.

The air smells and tastes like nectar … a gift of pure oxygen, am aware of every breath which becomes slower and deeper by the minute.

This is despite the fast pace of the steep path that requires me to stay alert and focus on the narrow, mossy, and cobbled trail before me.

I see the hill before me, and I also see the dewy cobwebs, the mist, the butterflies, the shades of green and taupe and tan and brown and ash and the occasional bursts of the red and yellow floral blooms all around.

I hear the cicadas, the infrequent croak and belch of toads and tree frogs, the gushing waterfall and gurgling streams, the leaves rustling along, the rain’s pitter-patter and the occasional clap of thunder.

And then as I reach for a tree’s stump for support or accidentally brush my fingers through some foliage is when the magic happens. Everything around me feels alive, wet, real … the forest has a pulse that beats with the same rhythm as my own heart and soul.

Many, many moons ago –Aaboo told me – “You are happiest when you are surrounded by Nature and in your own world. Not with your friends or on stage or striking a pose for a picture. Now wipe that silly smirk off your face!” (This was said as I trying to take a selfie in a new dress that I bought!)

Querencia - by the flowing water and in the Western Ghats!

And she was so right.

I see the difference in my own smiles and body language here.

Querencia is originally a Spanish word that is taken from ‘querer’ or “to desire”. This word now has this metaphysical meaning – a place where one feels safe, at home, or a favourite spot and where they can draw their strength from. The place where you are your most authentic self.

I have now found it. These Ghats could be home again. And I, Earth’s child, as I was once-upon-a-time.

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REFERENCES:

• Kottová, A. (2010). " Childhood Memories in Career Plans". In Talk about Careers in Science. Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill. doi: https://doi.org/10.1163/9789460913266_008

• TedX Gateway, N. R. [TEDx Talks]. (2020, June 4). Illustrating The Hidden Kingdom Of Plants - Nirupa Rao [Video]. https://youtu.be/8vnFyKKDXUA

Note: My blog shall never have sponsored content. But for anyone that is just curious to know more about the Eco-resort that I recently visited or the Chorla Ghats - do check out the following links:

• Wildernest: https://www.wildernest-goa.com/index.htm

• Swapnagandha: https://swapnagandha.com/