No regrets, say couple who quit jobs to run ‘ecostay’ inspired by tribal lifestyles

Indrani Chakraborty (centre) with her son and helpers at Svanir. The ecostay's proximity to an elephant sanctuary dictated choice of materials and building style.

Humans trapped in cubicles and open-plan offices often catch themselves looking up from laptops or PCs and gazing at nothing in particular, wondering if they will be able to muster the courage to chuck it all and run away to a remote hideout to do something diametrically opposite to their jobs selling diapers or air fryers or crunching data.

A sizeable chunk of the population wakes up to reality in the space of a chai break. But Indrani Chakraborty and Soumya Mukherji kept dreaming. The co-owners of Svanir Wilderness Ecostay (Svanir means 'Our Nest' in Sanskrit) in a village on the outskirts of Bhubaneswar were once two souls lost in the nine-to-five-and-endless-tour grind. She was a senior zone manager (region east) with Avon and he a team leader at Destination Knowledge Centre, Kuoni, when they opted out of the rat race to embrace the “Santhal tribal way of life.”

An important warning applies here: Realizing a dream can entail coping with the aftermath of a cyclone, Covid-19 lockdown… even termite attacks.

A Buddha statue in the garden at Svanir Wildnerness Ecostay.

Germination of an idea

Soumya’s father, G.B. Mukherji, a retired Indian Administrative Service (IAS) officer of the Odisha cadre, planted the seed of an idea when the couple lived in Delhi after marriage. Fed up with illegal felling of eucalyptus trees on his plot, he wanted to sell it and buy a house for his son. “By that time, we were exhausted, tired of travelling all over the place and keen to get back to our part of the world,” says Indrani. Her in-laws, who were taking care of Soumya’s grandfather, now 95 years old, also needed support.

The leap of faith was taken in 2016. Soumya resigned from Kuoni but Indrani stayed on with Avon as someone had to take care of the bills - she only quit after the resort opened.

The family retained the plot, going in for a loan-free project and digging into their savings to build a homestay that mimicked the lifestyles of the Santhal tribals spread across West Bengal, Jharkhand, Assam, Odisha and Bihar.

The decision was based on Mukherji’s civil services days when he visited Adivasi villages in the jungle tracts of Malkangiri, at the southernmost portion of Odisha (then known as Orissa), sometime during 1978-81. Struck by the poor living conditions of the villagers, many of them sharing space with their domesticated animals, he had almost started to agree with the reasoning of experienced colleagues and seniors that poverty was to blame for the tribal community’s plight when a chance visit to another village came as a pleasant surprise. It was well laid out and the houses, though basic mud and thatch on timber structures, were airy and beautifully colourful. “So were the Santals (as he chooses to call them), with their festivals and lifestyles,” he says. Realisation dawned: Poverty was only an excuse for a few to live in dirt and filth.

One challenge after another

What had to be tackled first was the local villagers’ animosity. “It took us time to convince them that we were not there to disrupt their lives or build a giant polluting manufacturing unit. We said we would live peacefully with them, that our guests would learn more about them and that only good will come out of it,” says Indrani.

She reached out to the local village women. “They were unemployed and ignored by people from neighbouring villages because of inequality of caste. I hired them and taught them housekeeping skills, everything from managing a pin to cleaning to making beds, cooking, even cultivating mushrooms (Soumya had signed up for a special course at an institute and passed on the knowledge). Then, from two girls, we got four girls and now are supporting about six families from the village.”

Two disasters in quick succession, however, almost made them give up hope. One was cyclone Fani that hit Odisha (and other states) in April 2019. They were launching in a week but suffered major losses. There was damage, with furnishings and roofs ripped out, resulting in pushback of plans and a frantic bid to spend every little bit of money left over from the major construction work for quick repairs.

Then, just a few months into launch, the Covid-19 lockdown was announced from March 2020. With no guests there were no earnings, the family stretched finances in every possible way to keep going and retain staff through the rough patch.

Ochre black and brown are colours popular with the tribals

Keep away, elephants

The building process had taken time before the series of unfortunate events. An architect had been consulted and the first thing to come up was an elephant-resistant high boundary wall (they live next to an elephant sanctuary). However, his plan to cut down trees was nixed before other experts and friends stepped in to help. Soumya and Mukherji also toured Santhal villages, striking up friendships, learning whatever they could within four months.

Six cottages were built on the plot, one for Mukherji and his wife, a “city girl” as Indrani puts it, who visits occasionally, one for dadu (grandfather), and four for guests, with a capacity for eight adults and four children.

Two makeshift rooms were built at the back for Indrani and Soumya to supervise construction work (they have stayed put since).

As he was running out of time, however, because of contractors’ deadlines, and the villagers’ preoccupation with various festivals, Mukherji couldn’t get the exact design down on paper. So he went in for a modified technique developed by British-Indian architect Laurie Baker, “learnt decades back but revisited on YouTube.”

The project’s location next to the elephant sanctuary prohibited permanent construction, so the best option was to build a cement-fly ash (fly ash use means less water, air, and soil pollution) two-brick, hollow structure with a sloping steel sheet roof and a treated bamboo ceiling underneath. A small hole on the side of the outer wall allowed hot air between the two levels to escape during peak summer. “Interestingly, some birds took, and often take, fancy to the hole and build nests therein,” Mukherji adds.

A green net covering over the roofs and trees grown around the cottages provided more shade.

As the plot sloped, the plinth of all structures was raised by nearly three feet to accommodate the rush of water during monsoon and to prevent insects and reptiles from crawling into the cottages.

“The natural slope worked to our advantage as well as we sited a borewell, a 22 ft high water-tank-cum-watchtower enabling supply of water to every use point using gravitational force,” says Mukherji.

A rainwater harvesting tank, 9 ft deep and 2.5 ft in diameter was installed. Bathwater channels were dug up behind every cottage and linked to groves nearby. Septic tanks were set up for every two cottages.

A civil contractor came on board to add the final touches, making space for the trees to grow through the walls and roof.

Big windows with glare-resistant, toughened glass ensured plentiful supply of light and air, beautifully framing in the verdant green landscape outside.

We repurpose everything that the craftspersons cannot sell, and display their handicraft at the ecostay.

- Indrani Chakraborty

All rooms had one-tonne air-conditioners with three-star rating, the height and placement at bed level for maximum effect.

A conscious decision was taken to keep the interiors and exteriors simple to avoid “overpowering nature and the natural surroundings.”

The earthy tones gave the buildings that perfect tribal home look. Lime was sourced from a Rajasthan-based supplier and saffron-coloured earth from a village close by.

White was chosen for the interior walls, with limewash creating an illusion of space. Though cemented, the outer walls got stiff brush engravings for a mud finished look.

Books and adda

A no-frills dining area was designed to encourage guests as well as family members to eat together. “Like all Bengalis, we love our adda (chats) sessions and books. So we have a small library and space has been created for people to sit here and enjoy meaningful conversations,” says Indrani.

The open kitchen was built next to the dining room and kept very basic.

The dining space

For artistic touches six junior students at the local tribal institute were invited to give free rein to their imagination. From birds to fish to patterns around windows and on cemented platforms around trees, the youngsters painted beautifully, and got paid for it. “We told them this was a project where their art would be on display for all to admire and it would mean practical experience for them, and it was fantastic,” says Indrani.

Mukherji’s friend from college sent 40 litres of silicone from Kolkata to weatherproof the outer ochre and black walls. “Five to six years down the road, the look and the artwork needed minor retouching; that too was within the skill capacity of our women staffers,” he says.

Painted platforms around trees.

Perfectly imperfect

Making sure she was showcasing the art forms of Odisha, Indrani added recycling and rehashing to her list of must-dos, picking up Dokra (metal) and Mruttika (terracotta) pieces – most of them damaged - from regional craftspersons. “We repurpose everything that the craftspersons cannot sell and display their handicraft at the ecostay. Guests love them so there’s a constant demand. Who says art has to be perfect?” she reasons.

The couple starts the day early, at about 6.30 am. Soumya is in-charge of dropping and picking up their little son from school, 12 km away. Indrani discusses the day’s work with the gardener, the only male employee apart from dadu’s caretaker, who comes in by 7 am. Then, as she does all the cooking with assistance from two helpers, she moves to the kitchen, having asked guests for preferences. They get to sample Bengali, Odia – even South Korean cuisine and some of her baked goodies as she loves baking.

Whatever is not grown in the kitchen gardens is bought from the villagers.

Indrani also manages all promotions for the resort, organizes tours for the guests and encourages them to participate in activities with the family – from planting a tree to cooking lessons.

Plants are sourced from local nurseries, including Ekamra Kannan, the well-known regional plant resource centre.

Till now they have hosted people from Bengaluru, Kolkata, the North-East, Hyderabad, Mumbai, Delhi, Germany, the Netherlands and the UK.

“Our guests love the greenery, the freshness of nature and waking up to birdsong. They find it very healing, especially the silence at night,” says Indrani.

Every minute spent here has been worthwhile, she adds. “Soumya and I used to tell each other after Fani and Covid-19 to live life one step at a time. We had managed to make that huge transition from corporate life to setting up the ecostay even though we had no idea how to run a business, and today things are up and running. Our son plays happily in the gardens, among the trees and flowers. We have no TV, but so many things keep us happily occupied. There are no regrets. We feel very grateful for all that we have and for our parents and in-laws who have supported us in making this crazy decision.

“It has been good for us."