[Red Liner]

When traveling in distant lands, you might never know who you run into.

Avalanches and rockfalls are par for the course in the north eastern state of Arunchal Pradesh in India.

Watch out!

I look to my right as rocks the size of my head tumble onto the track. I make swift corrections to avoid them. It is not an avalanche as I fear but an excavator working higher up clearing the earth.

The wait was long in the noon sun and spotting a brief respite in the road building work the guard had waved us across just moments earlier.

The rocks miss me by inches. On the other side a local driver feels confident about ignoring the guards orders after watching me come through.

“Is it safe to cross?” he asks me.
“There’s work going on. I think you should wait.”

He looks up as he takes a long drag out of his cigarette. I understand his frustration. Roads like these can be blocked at any time for reconstruction work. And you might have to wait endless hours before being allowed through. But I find the locals take everything in their stride with a smile on their face. It is everyday life.

I have much to learn.

[Red Liner]

It is early evening when we reach Seppa. Two bright eyed kids on their bicycles spot us. I slow down to make conversation as they keep pace alongside.

“Bikers!” They scream breaking the ice. I nod laughing inside my helmet. “Where are you from?”
“Far away. Very far away.”I doubt they know where Bangalore is.
“Where are you going?”
“Do you know where the circuit house is? Can you take us there?” I ask.

The older of the two shakes his head yes and points ahead.

In a few minutes they help us get to the circuit house. I walk around to try and find the caretaker but there is nobody here. The doors are locked.

My mate is on his phone talking to someone. It doesn’t sound like a call home.

“Hello sir, are you the circle officer of Seppa?”
“Hello, yes I used to be the circle officer but I just retired. How can I help you?”
“Sir we are here on a project in Arunachal to understand tourism. We need a place to stay tonight in Seppa. Can you help us with a room in the circuit house?”
“Oh you’re on a tourism project? Wonderful. Yes ofcourse you can stay at the circuit house. Let me call the caretaker and check if rooms are available for you.”
He calls back in a minute. “Hello, yes rooms are available. I have asked the caretaker to come and show you inside.”
“Is there anytime we can meet to thank you in person?” We are reeking of gratitude.
“Not this week, I am out for a wedding. Please enjoy your stay!”

We watch the children race each other inside the rather large compound as we wait for him. I look to the gate and find someone walking straight to me. Is he the caretaker? The man seems almost too well dressed to be one. He rather has an air of authority around him.

“Hello! Who are you?” He asks.
“Uhh” I stammer.
“When did you come here?”
“We arrived just an hour back.”
“Why are you here?” he counters.

This is sounding more like an interrogation. I am beginning to feel he is not the caretaker.

[Red Liner]

“We are here on a tourism project.” I keep as straight a face as I can. If I say anything out of the script we might not get the room.

“Oh a tourism project? I see. Which department?”
Well, duh. “The tourism department” I answer.
“No no, I mean from the state or central government?”

This was beginning to get out of hand. I had rehearsed none of this. I use as many complex words as possible to make it sound genuine even though I was lying.

“We are preparing a project proposal for the nodal tourism body in Delhi about Arunachal.”

My nodal tourism body is YouTube. And I am shooting videos for my non existent channel. I feel better about myself with this white lie.

“Oh, you are coming from the central government? Very good. Yes the locals need more such support and visibility about tourism here.” I nod in agreement and wonder where this is taking us.

“Where are you planning to go from here?” he continues.

“We have not made any plans yet. I am hoping to stay here tonight to work out the next few days. Would you have any suggestions?”
The man’s face turns incredulous.“How can you come here on a tourism project without any plans?”

I flounder again.

“I understand. Arunachal is a difficult place to move around. I see you are on motorcycles. That is a good way to travel around here.” He answers his own questions. Keeping silent seems a good virtue.

“Don’t go too close to the border areas. And don’t be out late into the night. Make sure you enter your details in full at every check post.” he continues.

I do not want to mock his warning. Arunachal is twice as large as Switzerland but with only 1.5 million people. Distances are vast, mostly measured in days and hours, with few settlements inbetween.

These seem more like directives than advice. He relaxes a little and finally asks my name. I introduce myself. And as courtesy ask his. He smiles.

“Listen, we are both from government agencies. Don’t you know its not right to go about introducing ourselves in public? We have to be careful about who we interact with.”

I stare at him as he gestures the conversation over and walks away.

[Red Liner]

I have just about recovered when Talib Lage makes a striking entrance.

On a 100 cc motorcycle that is about to fall apart he parks right next to me with his face beaming. My eyes however, are elsewhere. On his head is the most extraordinary hat I have ever seen. No, calling this a hat is a sacrilege. This is a head dress.

“This is my traditional head gear”. He takes it off and lets me have a closer look.
“But this looks like a…” I stammer.
“Yes, it is a hornbill bird’s beak.”

Talib tells me he is from the Nyishi tribe. The Nyishi’s form the largest ethnic group in Arunachal. I am still fixated on what he is wearing on his head.

Now I am even more careful with it in my hands. Sticking out from the front of the head gear is a thick tuft of neatly braided hair. I make mental notes as I realise I am going to struggle describing it later.

“Let me explain. This cap is made of cane. You see this? We call it Bopa.”

I find the cane is brown and tightly weaved to form a shell that sits comfortably on the crown of the head. He turns the piece around and I point to the hair.

“This is called Pudum. Traditionally we knot our own hair into a Pudum and tie it with this cane cap using a brass skewer. But it is too tedious for me to remove and do it everyday. So now I just have a Pudum fixed to the Bopa.”

“And this is a real Hornbill bird’s beak!” I exclaim again.

I am told later that this is also called a Pudum. There are additional decorations on the head dress that seemed to indicate his status.

Talib Lage with his Pudum. Intricately handmade, these indicate social status of the wearer.

“Not just my status, but my entire lineage. This is a heirloom passed down from my ancestors!”

“But why Hornbills?”

“The great Hornbill is a cultural identity for us Nyishi’s. It has been so from time immemorial. We used to kill them to prove our hunting skills. Hunting is how we used to survive and it was very important for a man to prove his skills. He will then wear the beak and the feathers on his head to signify his social position. But these days we do not hunt the hornbills anymore. We know that the hornbills are in great danger. Infact we have formed citizen groups to protect them!” he tells me proudly.

I later find out that there is a real program called the “Hornbill Nest Adoption Program” a conservation initiative led by the Nyishi community. Run in collaboration with the forest department, the program is well into its tenth year and the Great Hornbills have made a resounding comeback. Just then I hear a shriek from inside the forest behind us. Talib tells me it is the Hornbill.

Much of Arunachal is characterised by thick forests, a veritable haven for birds and wildlife.

I find it interesting to see communities like the Nyishi make a real demonstrable effort to save something so near and dear to them, even at the cost of their cultural identity. These are people making a true sacrifice. I hand back the head dress with new respect wondering if his son will get to wear one of his own in the future. But the Nyishi, like every other indigenous community around the world, are very serious about their heirlooms.

I do not have to worry.

[Red Liner]

I thank my good fortune for the cultural lessons I receive from Talib Lage.

As he gestures me to follow him inside the circuit house, I realise he is our caretaker.

The room is spartan but well appointed with rustic furniture. A large double bed is at the center with an insect net that the two of us will have to share tonight. “Can we stay over tomorrow as well? I would like to explore Seppa.” I tell Talib.

He doesn’t seem to mind, since we were from the “government” after all.

We sit for dinner and the resident cat makes an appearance for her share of my meal. I give in. Talib is serving us a simple yet heartwarming dinner.

“You were talking to him for quite a while. What did he ask you?” Talib questions me as he scoops freshly steamed rice onto my plate.

“Who are you talking about?”
“You know, the gentleman who walked out as I came in.”
“Oh him! He was asking me about who I was and where I was from. Strange guy. Do you know him?”
“Just as an acquaintance. You don’t want to know such people too well” Talib replies.

“Why? Who is he anyway?” I ask.

“Oh, I thought you knew. He is from the intelligence bureau.”

Kat Ramana is a traveler keen on understanding cultural nuances by meeting people and living with them. In 2015, he walked from Kanyakumari to Kashmir covering over 7500 kilometers in a year and a half. His love of the great snow capped mountains have taken him tramping from India to Tibet, and hiking every year in Uttarakhand and Himachal. And his search for authentic stories has seen him living in the distant North East for months at a time.

[GTO]

Thread moved from the Assembly Line to the Travelogues section. Thanks for sharing!

Going to our homepage this week

[NPV]

Wow, what a start! Glued to this thread, thanks for sharing @RedLiner

[ex-innova-guy]

Your love for North East is very evident such that you are now getting sponsored by the Govt. Ramana Sir.

Curious to know if you extended your stay and if at all you met your fellow IB pal again?