Meandering through those terribly dusty Tuensang roads with scenes that brought upon a feeling of melancholia, we didn't just learn about the culture. We understood it to some measure. It was a week that instilled a purpose for us and as I write this today, I can say that it has been a driving force especially in terms of the choices we have made, work wise.
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Tuensang - Celebrating Khaozao sey sumai
The trip undertaken by the LRD was an assessment tour of their Integrated Watershed Management Programme (IWMP), a government of India initiative implemented countrywide under the Pradhan Mantri Krishi Sinchayee Yojana (PMKSY) scheme. Under the watershed development programme, the LRD also had a sub-project: Special Programme for Economic and Environmental Development, better known as ‘SPEED’, a five-year programme. The individuals working under these projects are known as the Watershed Development Team (WDT) members.
A more concise article (official report) of the trip and their assessment can be read HERE
In the last third and last segment of our travel, we travelled back the familiar roads to take the road that led towards Pathso via Kingniu. The short road to Kingniu was more comfortable than we could’ve ever imagined. After five days of travelling on probably some of the worst terrains, the black topping that was laid in front of us was gratifying to say the least.
Kingniu was our lunch stop with a rather funny story. The Director later felt sorry because he thinks that he probably hurt their feelings and sentiments. After the short formal meetings and introductions (Sanglao was already part of a previous plantation project with the LRD), we were all drawn to a gravestone under a tree. We didn’t read it or think too much into it until the Director pointed it out and then we saw it. The epitaph on the gravestone was dedicated to the founder of the village. He was allegedly born in 1830 and died in 1993. We were told that he founded the village in 1940. On further inquiry, the villagers claimed that this man died when he was 163 years old. I say ‘claim’ but they were certain. In fact, the village leader (Gaon bura) said that this man was his father. The Director pressed him further: “your father? Your real father” and the man said “well, pretty much like my real father”. I don’t think anyone meant to hurt their feelings but it was too incredulous not to react. On the other hand, if this claim is really true, can you imagine?
We good a good tip for a short cut to get to Pathso from Kingniu. The original route was to go back all the way to Noklak which would’ve taken us five hours. The shortcut was cutting the travel time by four hours but it came with a warning: there was a good chance that the vehicles might encounter some serious problems as it was a rocky uphill climb. What we weren’t told of however was the exquisite Zungi/Lang river that would lay side by side of that struggle. Zungi (‘Lang’ in the Khiamnuingan dialect) is one of the major rivers in Nagaland and the originating point is from somewhere in Pangsha. The water is an unspoilt vision of clear aquamarine.
We reached Pathso around the evening and I think although we were all tired, we were a little sad too. This was our last night before heading back to Tuensang. Yet, the following day was something to look forward to because we were right on time for a celebration.
Each tribe in Nagaland has a festival attached to them, mostly welcoming the season of harvest (farming has always played a pivotal role) and the Khaozao sey sumai is said to be the biggest Khiamnuingan festival.
Khaozao sey sumai is one of the main festivals of the Khiamnuingan Nagas; an integreal part woven in the fabric of our social life. This is a festival of thanksgiving for the bountiful harvest, the handsome young men and beautiful young women of the village, for livestock and success for the year.
The festival marks the end of the year and the ushering of the new year. It is a time of complete rest with plenty of food and wine and a day-long celebration with dancing and singing. It is brought to an end by seeking blessings and protection from in the coming year.
It is a time to forgive and forget and renew ties as well as forge new relationships between individuals and clans sharing wine from one khaotsao (rice beer mug made of bamboo) and food from one plate.
An explanation of the festival through a pamphlet we were given (grammar edited)
I just want to let you know that sometimes Nagas have a shock value. It gets heightened at times to a point where even Nagas are seemingly shocked by other Nagas. The Khaozao sey sumai festival was that and much more. Apart from the Khiamnuingan WDT workers, it came across as one of the most bizarre experiences of our lives. If you want to use the famed Hornbill Festival as your meter, the Khaozao sey sumai is (to borrow the distinct phrase used by Apple in one of their commercials) on a molecular level. The Hornbill Festival is nothing, simply nothing, compared to this. This was raw, wild and untamed.
As soon as the men began to form the circle for the dancing, there were other men scrambling around collecting aluminium buckets of food. We didn’t know what was happening but we were in the middle of a controlled chaos. As soon as the dancing and the singing began, these men with the buckets ran across feeding the dancers the food with their hands. We had expressions that spelled just one questions: What is going on?
The dancers kept dancing and singing and eating. They didn’t refuse the food, be it rice or a chunk of pork fat. As the singing got louder, the sun shone brighter and the pieces of meat got larger. The food (accompanying meat and a lentil dish) was not refused nor wasted. It was consumed. In whole. In due time, even the spectators were being fed and joining in the festivities. For them, this was a free meal and passing it up was not an option.
The Khaozao sey sumai is a festival where only men and boys take part in.
We became like typical tourists taking pictures and videos and selfies. It was not possible to miss out any moments here. Along with Debbie and some other WDT member, I also distributed the last remaining sweets and biscuits to the many children watching this celebration. But to be honest, I have conflicting thoughts about this ‘act of kindness’ that we do. This wasn’t much, sweets and biscuits, but I feel that as privileged folks, we tend to insensitive to them. We give children things like toys, biscuits and chocolates, things they probably will not be able to find or eat again. It makes us feel like a good person, a good human being for a while, but apart from the self-gratification that we get out of it, are we making their day or spoiling them? Children perceive so much more than we give them credit for and we only have to look at ourselves as examples to know what influenced us on our likes and dislikes. It was choices we made as kids. I always wonder if we are sowing the seeds for a sense of discontent in years to come…
The festivities went on and some of the officials as well as the WDT members joined the dancing. They soon brought out the massive horn mugs. While it should have had the local wine, I reckon it was too early in the day to drink so instead there was juice. I tasted one and it was repulsive. It was rice and lentil mashed juice with cold water! I was not a happy camper and while it may have been rude, I turned away all the other offers until someone insisted I try one particular horn which thankfully was a fresh fruit infusion. That restored my faith in the horn mugs but I wasn’t going to try another one.
We didn’t stay too long for the celebrations and I am not sure they cared too much whether we stayed or left as this was a day much awaited and longed for.
Needless to say, this was one of the most interesting ends to a trip. We had a long journey ahead of us but the festivities of Khaozao sey sumai had energised us enough. In hindsight, I still find that this was one of the craziest experiences I have had while travelling.
JANUARY 11 - 17, 2016
Tuensang - the village of Wui
The trip undertaken by the LRD was an assessment tour of their Integrated Watershed Management Programme (IWMP), a government of India initiative implemented countrywide under the Pradhan Mantri Krishi Sinchayee Yojana (PMKSY) scheme. Under the watershed development programme, the LRD also had a sub-project: Special Programme for Economic and Environmental Development, better known as ‘SPEED’, a five-year programme. The individuals working under these projects are known as the Watershed Development Team (WDT) members.
A more concise article (official report) of the trip and their assessment can be read HERE
Not far from Kengjung, Wui was the next planned stop. However, Wui was not part of any project or scheme. They were scheduled to be included in a project in the next financial year. This was more of an assessment stop; to forge the mark of the department.
Wui was yet another tiny village but they had immense potential for self-sustenance. We were greeted as usual by the Village elders and council members and taken in for a formal meeting. This is the time when they would narrate the plight of the village or gently demand more funds. The speaker at Wui didn’t spend too look narrating their plight. He just got to the point, stated that they didn’t have time to draw up a petition. In fact, he said he didn’t see a point in it. If they’re meeting face to face, he might as well tell them in person rather than having that petition end up in a dustbin.
He did mention that even out of all the Khiamnuingan villages, theirs was almost unheard of due to their location and lack of communication and through this, he narrated a very interesting story, while addressing the Director of the department. “I’m not praising you. I just want to narrate a story of joy for our village that was brought upon by another Lotha” he said (I should mention here that until recently (August 2016), the Director of the Land Resource Department was Mr. Mhathung Yanthan, who belongs to the Lotha tribe) and the current District Project Officer (of Tuensang) is also a Lotha.
He told us about how from 1985 till January of 2011, a Lotha gentleman by the name of Arhomo Kikon, from the department of Geology and Mining, visited Wui along with Dr. Anungla Aier, Dr. Thomas Oliver of Oxford University, London and Toshi, ex MLA.
“We don’t know what goes on in other villages but thanks to Arhomo, we got some recognition and from time to time, we have people who come to visit us, just like you. If we don’t tell you about our problems when you visit, it is much like being thirsty and not asking for a glass of water. It’s going to leave us a little unsatisfied and unhappy” he said.
Personally, I was shocked at his story, eloquence and his analogy. In fact, he even said that while everything they have today in the village is backward, he hopes that the department could sow the seeds for them to move forward. And he used the English words for “backward” and “forward”. I have a feeling that going forward wouldn’t take took long if there are leaders like this man.
The story came as a shock to me because the man that he spoke of, Arhomo Kikon, was a collegue of my mother. Mr. Kikon passed away in October 2015 and I remember my mom telling me that he was more or less one of the leading scientists in their department and that his death was not just a loss to the family and friends, but also to the department and the Lotha community.
We were taken for a tour of the village and I don’t think I am overstating this: we were all blown away. This was a first time visit for almost all of us and we saw what this village was about. This little village was blessed with mineral resources (hence the visits from the Geology of Mining Department) and because of this, they have carried on a tradition and technique of pottery and iron smelting from their forefathers. These are both very unique skills to inherit in any village. They are confident about the survival of the smelting technique as we could see older men folk working in tandem with the younger generation but it was their pottery technique that could well vanish. The beauty of their pottery lies quite literally in the hands of the potter and as of now, there are only three elderly women left practicing this art. The shaping and smoothing of the pots and urns are all done manually. There was no trace of even a pottery wheel in sight. I personally wished that the younger generation would take an interest to keep this art alive because it could become very significant in the future.
The village also has a story of a ‘buried treasure’. Legend has it that during the peak of resistance, it was discovered that the region has deep riches in iron minerals and it was hidden by the insurgent groups to protect it from the Indian government and it will only be unearthed with Nagaland is ‘free’ from India.
We trekked to the region where the said iron was previously said to be excavated. It is also an archaeological dig site and after excavating just three feet below, it was determined that the village of Wui is at least 800 years old.
Just to give you a very quick explainer without the needful details (hopefully I will write something regarding this subject in days to come), Nagaland has been fighting for independence from India since the 1950s. Talks began as soon as the British administration left India for good but it soon became a predominant cause in the late 50s, continuing into the 1960s. insurgency groups began cropping up and the Indian army stationed in the state began pursuing members and leaders and it ended up a state of bloodshed. Their treacherous behaviour of burning villages and raping women has still not been forgotten by the older generation. In terms of history, it is still quite recent which makes it extremely hard even today for people in Nagaland to trust the Indian army.
The fight for freedom still lives on but what began with a real cause and concern has today turned into a weak movement that no one is concerned with. These so-called freedom fighters today just use means of extortion looking for handouts. Besides, logically and rationally it will be absolutely impossible to sustain Nagaland on its own. Let’s not forgot about the “peace accord” that was signed last year though. It has been over a year now and yet, not even the government officials know the contents of it. it is seemingly still a secret between the Modi Government and the National Socialist Council of Nagaland (NSCN) and that fervour seems to be long dead and gone and I for one am glad. Why? Because the contents are still unknown. It’s called a peace accord but peace in terms of what? What was negotiated? What was discussed? What was traded? I might as well belt out The room where it happens right now.
Coming back to independence though: can you imagine the state of villages like Wui if Nagaland were to become independent? Right now the support for rural development comes straight from the central government. If we were to break away, there would be no way to get the right number on funds to give the rural areas any real sense of paving their way forward. In any case, almost all villages still rely on farming as a way of live with little or close to no livelihood.
Each of us were given a clay pipe as a gift but we also bought some of the clay pots. I was thinking out aloud to one of the WDT members that they should be selling these and he said that last year, he initiated a plan where they were sold during the Hornbill Festival. I hope that more of these initiatives are taken. It’s not about the number of sales or even about bringing in the odd visitors and tourists because of their rare skills. It’s more about making do with that you have. The village of Wui is fortunate. From what we saw, they have good leaders within the village. I hope they don’t succumb to the cycle of free aid and inspire a change.
There was also another aspect of interest in Wui: The Village Guards. Not all villages have their own dedicated guards but those closer to the border areas do and from the looks of it, they are dedicated in their service. They aren’t paid much but it does provide employment and a monthly wage which is not something many people from the rural areas can say. It also takes them away from the village for a while (training etc.) which means a chance to live and experience an urban life. They are always in uniform with their weapons by their side and our brief hours in Wui were spent under their watchful eye as they served both as guides and guards. I am quite certain than having to accompany government officials definitely gave them a sense of pride as well and rightly so. They were genuinely nice folks glad to do their job.
Our vist to Wui ended on a light note. We met who is said to be the oldest man in the village. From the looks of it, he was definitely under the influence of something and attached to him was an extremely old, extremely blackened pipe. It seems that he has had it for years and we were certain that most of his days are spent smoking that. We couldn’t communicate with him but he was happy enough to take some photographs with people as well as to be photographed. One of the WDT members showed him to do the peace sign and it was quite a funny moment as he did it ever so happily.
By the end of it, even the officers wished that they had more time to explore Wui. I’d like to go back one day, maybe in a few years to see what state they are in. There’s a huge misconception about travelling in Nagaland. It’s not easy and it’s not cheap. I hope I can find a way though. I really do.
JANUARY 11 - 17, 2016
Tuensang - Notes from Noklak & Kengjung
The trip undertaken by the LRD was an assessment tour of their Integrated Watershed Management Programme (IWMP), a government of India initiative implemented countrywide under the Pradhan Mantri Krishi Sinchayee Yojana (PMKSY) scheme. Under the watershed development programme, the LRD also had a sub-project: Special Programme for Economic and Environmental Development, better known as ‘SPEED’, a five-year programme. The individuals working under these projects are known as the Watershed Development Team (WDT) members
A more concise article (official report) of the trip and their assessment can be read HERE
On our way to Noklak, we crossed a police checkpoint in Chendang Saddle where the convoy stopped to catch a breather. It should technically not have been more than a two-hour journey but I reckon it was more because of the road conditions.
Chendang Saddle is the halfway mark. The road on the left takes you to Noklak while the right takes you towards Shamator.
Shamator was initially one of the stops listed down for the visit but due to a feud between the Yimchungar – Tikhir tribe, the road was closed and the Saddle intersection had heavy security personnel manning the area. The Yimchungar – Tikhir feud was the oldest story in the book: Land rights. Both claim that it’s their land and in the end, result to havoc or far worse, criminal acts. This feud, however, was not new or recent.
There is a less publicised annual ‘festival’ which is way older than the Hornbill Festival describable as “Yimchungar / Tikhir Slug-fest”. It is an unending saga of a relentless struggle by the Tikhirs for their separate identity from the Yimchungar Tribe which has caused bloody skirmishes and loss of lives over the years along the way. It is a complex high tension emotionally charged confrontation that has been recurring every year for the past couple of decades and has consistently caused law and order situation in Tuensang and Kiphire Districts.
Khekiye K. Sema, Retired IAS, Nagaland Post Op Ed, January 2016
I was conveyed a message and ‘asked’ not to take photographs. Had I not been in the company of the government number plated vehicles, I reckon the message would’ve been far harsher. A Yimchungar church lay deserted without any members on a small hillock as they had all been chased out from Saddle too, which is a Tikhir dominated village.
From this point on that we all lost phone connectivity so flight mode was on for battery conservation because electricity too was going to be a valuable commodity as we got travelled further into the district. We would have no further news of the dispute and would be greeted on the way back by more armed guards and stopped for a check (regardless of the number plate).
We had reached Noklak by 10:00 – 10:30AM and were approached by some of the WDT members (remember we were travelling with a team that were actually supposed to work!) if we wanted to go to one of the India – Myanmar borders, the bordering village called Pangsha. As we were not required to the official meeting that was set up in the nearby village Nokyen-B (the purpose for the overnight stop at Noklak), six of us, a driver and a local started off for the one-hour trip to Pangsha.
While the village is called Pangsha, the border point is called ‘Dan’, also known as the ‘International Trade Centre’ (ITC). There are said to be five border points from Nagaland to Myanmar and these ITC’s are where people from Myanmar come to trade. They mostly remain shut unless an important or well-known official is visiting. What we heard was this: when they get the news of an important visit, someone runs across the border to convey the news and a trade centre is quickly set up. There was a deserted looking rest house which was the ITC area.
Myanmar was basically just a mountain away. You just needed to cut across the mountain. And that’s what people do. These may be international borders but they are very rarely checked which means that people from both ends make frequent visits. From Noklak and beyond, we got used to seeing a certain kind of bikes on the road. They looked like 50 cc bikes but imagine it more stripped down. Right down to the basic minimum. The locals called them “Burma bikes” because they were just that. These lithe bikes were as sturdy as ATVS and were extremely enduring. Enduring enough to make their way from the borders of Myanmar into Tuensang. We later learned that they were cheap and affordable and many locals save up money to buy one.
Our journey back to Noklak was eventful to say the least with the car breaking down.
Our next stop from Noklak was Kengjung (also Kingjung) via Sanglao and in Kengjung, we met a pastor who gave us some more insight about these travels to Myanmar. The journey to Sanglao where we stopped for lunch was quite an experience. We left Noklak at 7:00AM stopping half an hour before reaching Sanglao to survey a plantation. During this pitstop, we (Debbie and I) were stunned. The grounds and the side of the road was blanketed in snow. It did get excessively cold but there was no way were prepared for snow. Sanglao was at 2030 meters above sea level and this was the coldest phase of the entire trip. This region was on the windward side of the mountain hence, received minimum or no sunlight.
We were also spectators to a herd of ‘Mithuns’ (also called Gayal or Bos Frontalis) which are quite prominent in the region. Mithuns are said to have a weakness for salt. Even in a field of 1000 Mithuns, if you feed your Mithun salt, he will return to you. Salt is said to cement a bond between man and beast. Alternately, feeding a Mithun a large quantity of salt before slaughtering him makes the meat tastier. Personally, I’d rather not do the latter because I’m not too pro meat.
We reached Kengjung around 1:00PM and were greeted the way every stereotypical tourist visiting Nagaland would like to be greeted: In full traditional gear, dancing and singing and the Naga version of yodelling. Reaching Kengjung was not an easy task. It’s not an understatement when someone says how bad the roads in Nagaland are but this was different. To begin with, the so-called roads that were treaded on were constructed just a few years earlier. Before that, it was only accessible by foot which basically translates to crossing a mountain (casually). In fact, two of the WDT members assigned to Kengjung did exactly that a few years earler and got lost in the middle of the jungle, at night. They did the only thing they could do: make noise until kingdom come. Luckily, a few villagers were out hunting and came to rescue them and took them to the Pastor’s house. Geographically, speaking, also mentioned earlier, the positioning of the landscape didn’t help. While the village of Kengjung is located on a higher altitude with direct sunlight, the (windward facing) mountains and the roads carved out through them got zero sunlight. It remained damp throughout the year and during the monsoons, it becomes slush and mud making it impossible for vehicles to pass through.
The Land Resource Department were here to inaugurate a guest house and their officials were probably the first officers to visit the village which for the village council and also the villagers is a big deal. Like so many (or mainly all) other states in India, rural Nagaland is heavily dependent on their government to bring in development and changes. On the one side, you look at the villages and see how desperately they need the help. Kengjung has a population of 1035 people with 211 households and they have barely 10 matriculates. But on the other side, when you begin to start developments, people start look for handouts. When I say they are dependent, they feel that they are owed the help. On the side of the government, that’s the struggle. How do you get them out of that mentality? According to the officials, it will take time but if changes are to take place, you must take the steps which is why in every speech, all three officials (Director and Deputy Directors) pressed on the issue of meeting halfway; that it was a give and take relationship: If the government is willing to come 60%, the village in discussion should also be able to meet them 40%. So even if the village cannot come up with the full required funds, they can contribute in terms of man power and other resources that are available to them. Over the last couple of years, there has been some tremendous success with the villages under their special SPEED project.
Of the villages we visited, Longkhitpeh (pronounced Long-ki-pi) and Kengjung were by far the most impressive. But I wouldn’t get into the details of that here. I don’t want you to read things you don’t want to but if you’re interested, you can read the published piece about this trip because I wrote about all the significant developments that were implemented by the department.
Debbie and I had the evening to explore so we decided to go for a short hike to a neighbouring mount. It’s close enough, we said. We can do it. Turns out, it wasn’t close enough. But we did it. We got a view of the village and we also saw the path that is taken by the villagers to go to Myanmar. Yet another casual walk. After we ascended, we went to interact with some of the WDT members and in turn, visited the Pastor and his wife. Over cups of black tea by the fire in the dimply lit traditional kitchen and a few cats beside us, we asked him about the trail to Myanmar.
Kengjung is one of the furthest villages in not just Tuensang but Nagaland. While it is one of the border villages, it is not an ‘ITC’ like Pangshah. The closest Burmese town while crossing over from Kengjung is called Kamdi which you reach after crossing what is known as “Osi” post. We learned that there are more Khiamniungans in Myanmar than in Tuensang. Some in Tuensang have their families in Mynamar. For this reason, there are two (Khiamniungan) representatives in the Burmese Parliament. There is also a Khiamniungan Association Centre in Kamdi. Most importantly, you do not require an ID while crossing the border. Trading seems to be easily possible as the Burmese in Kamdi can speak a basic version of the Khiamniungan dialect. The pastor told us that it takes him 11 hours to reach the border but for others (like us), it would probably take a full day and a half, he said with a weak smile. I have a feeling he thinks that we wouldn’t even be able to do it! The pastor also relayed the information that the best way to travel in Myanmar was by boats through the Chindwin river. The cost is calculated by the distance. I think I remember him mentioning that he has travelled till Mandalay.
There is a possible chance that I might have gotten some of the names wrong as upon searching for verification, I was unable to come up with some of the facts. Either these facts and places are negligible that it hasn’t been recorded or I definitely misheard. Or there’s another reason: that no one’s travelled to that point to fact check. Whichever the reasoning, it was interesting to learn of them.
That night, the villagers in Kengjung were ready for a celebration. Apart from the food that was presented and a group of very talent school boys singing for our entertainment, we also had the chance to drink some Burmese beer. Clearly there were other forms of alcohol present which meant that waking up in the morning proved to be difficult for some but they sure hid it well in front of their bosses!
Debbie and I took a final walk around the village. Witnessing the break of daylight and the first rays of sunlight was magical. Debbie wanted to give some sweets and biscuits to the kids something she had done throughout the trip (something I started labelling as "social service" because that was her background). Me doing that just looked funny mostly because I am awkward around children. So I made her do that and I just took the pictures. I strayed a little to meet a little girl, her tiny brother who she was carrying on her back and a curious little, pant-less soul. I had some biscuits with me so I smiled trying to make them feel at ease (because they are mostly always very shy and wary). My camera was with me and I clicked a picture of the two of them. I think it was the first time the little had seen a camera because to him, that was the spawn of satan! He was completely taken aback by it and started crying. I basically took another picture and showed it to him hoping that would calm him down. It did subdue the panic but he was still very apprehensive about it. I went back to where Debbie was (mostly for cover from children I admit!) and we walked through a field of five little boys playing football with an extremely worn out, tattered ball and instantly decided to join them for the game. They were apprehensive at first but within a few minutes, decided to take up head on. Probably not brag worthy but I did fight off three of them and scored a goal. They were definitely united against the outsiders.
Who knows if we’ll ever return but football at 2000 meters above sea level at the first light of day? If that wasn’t a way to remember Kengjung, I don’t know what is.
JANUARY 11 - 17, 2016