[Red Liner]

Local markets in the distant North East of India are vibrant, colourful, and full of life

Hey you! What do you think you’re doing?!

I look around wondering what the commotion is all about. A stout tough guy with a crew cut in a red tee shirt, tracks, and flip flops is pointing his finger at me.

“Hey mister, I am talking to you!”
Me?
“Yeah! What are you doing taking pictures of everyone here? Who do you think you are?”
But we are just tourists…I stammer.
“Don’t you think you should have asked for permission?”
Permission? I did ask before taking their pictures. I even showed them what I had taken!

_________________


Earlier that morning, I was woken up early for breakfast by Talib, the friendly caretaker at the government rest house in Seppa, Arunachal.

“What are your plans for today?” he questions. I draw a blank slate.
What do you suggest we do?
“There’s not much to do in Seppa you know. It’s just a small town. There’s nothing here.” I had no intention of sitting around the circuit house the entire day.

“What would you like for lunch? I have to go to the local market to buy supplies.”
I perk up. Local market? Is it big?

“The entire town gets its fresh supplies from there. But why would a market interest you?”

[Red Liner]

Local markets in Arunachal Pradesh are run by the local village population. All the produce is from their farms, making everything truly organic and fresh.

I enter and my head spins. A riot of scents and colors have launched a full frontal assault on all the senses. Fruits and vegetables, some I have never seen before, display every shade of the rainbow. They have been harvested only hours earlier from small family held farms. The sweet fragrance of wet earth still lingers in the air.

I see a big pile of green. They look like tiny cucumbers. I reach out to them but freeze halfway. They are wriggling.

Cucumbers do not wriggle.

“Would you like to try?” asks the lady at the stall.
But what is it?
“Silkworms” she replies.
I flinch as my hand recoils. It takes me a few moments to regain my composure.

“This is Eri Polu”, the kind lady tells me.

Eri Polu or silkworm pupa is bright green in the foreground. The woman is using a makeshift swatter to keep flies away.

Eri Polu is a silk worm and what she is encouraging I try is the pupa. Sold raw, eri polu is a delicacy, often fried and served with fermented bamboo shoots as an accompaniment to your drink of choice.

They are very healthy for you. Good for skin, your eyes. Many benefits! Make you strong also!

In spite of a very convincing sales pitch I am reluctant to try it raw. Maybe if the eri polu was fried and seasoned with spices, but I discard the thought almost immediately. I have to remind myself that I do not eat meat.

I might be vegetarian but the people here are not. I am told the North East of India has a rich tradition of consuming insects as a part of their everyday diets. These insects include bamboo caterpillars, broods of honey bees and wasps, dragonflies, aquatic beetles and bugs, and even red ants. Unsurprisingly they are all very high in nutritional values.

I wonder how we form our belief systems. Is it a product of where we are born, who our parents are, and the religion we are adopted into? Being born to a family of staunch vegetarians I am conditioned to think eating meat is bad. But what if I was born here in Seppa instead? What would my belief system be then?

It is because of a conflict of these belief systems, a sense of my faith is superior to yours, that all wars are fought. Religion, my friend, is nothing but a set of belief systems put together in a book.

[Red Liner]

An endearing couple at their stall selling firewood in the market.

I think travel helps break down such dogmatism. And I mean real travel. To hard to reach places. Where time feels different. Where the language is unknown. Where the food is far from what you’re used to. Where the people don’t look or dress the way you do. Where the culture is at variance from the way society has shaped you. You question your long held beliefs, of arrogant opinions and cherished convictions. Of what is right or what is wrong. Of what is good or what is bad.

What does it all matter, you tell yourself, as you finally begin to think for yourself.

Mithun meat is the protein of choice for the local population in Arunachal.

Skewers of Mithun meat are placed attractively at almost every stand ready to be taken home and savored over a grill. I try and lift the leg of the animal salted and dried. It weighs as much as me. I do not want to meet this beast in the wild. But my audience with the Mithun has already been cast into my very near future. Freshly caught fish the size of my arm and probably twice as heavy complete the picture.

I muse if it is the Mahseer, the state fish of Arunachal Pradesh.

The open air market stalls are stacked one against the other packed tightly like sardines all run by women. I see them waving their hands about animatedly to the few customers standing around. But they turn shy as soon as I pull my camera out. Each stall is nothing but timber pieced together to form a large table on which all produce is on display. Bags of fresh spices and meats form the first row. Fruits and vegetables are a distant second. A garbage bag tied to the end of a stick is a makeshift fan keeping pestilent flies away.

Freshly caught fish vies for real estate in tightly packed stalls. Space is at a premium in markets like these. Hand pound local spices and fresh fruits form a colorful assortment.

I am stopped again and asked to try something else. This time I smell a prank. The vegetable on offer is not squirming, but is the brightest red I have ever seen. She struggles to contain her laughter.

“Come on, try one! Why are you afraid?”
Tell me what it is first, I retort. Laughter ensues from the stalls nearby.

“This is BhutJolokia, red chili.”

Not just any red chili. At more than 1 million Scoville Heat Units, or a 170 times hotter than your supermarket Tabasco sauce the Guinness Book certifies the Bhut Jolokia or ghost pepper as the world’s hottest chili pepper. Yikes.

The world’s hottest chilli pepper. I dared not even touch it for fear of inadvertently touching my eyes after.

[Red Liner]

Towards the back of the market I come up to counters selling different ornaments and even hornbill headdresses, but these seem carved by wood. There are also Daos, a machete like weapon on sale. I borrow both for an impromptu self portrait. Try as I might, I look nothing like the Nyishi, who are the dominant tribe in this part of Arunachal Pradesh.

An unsuccessful attempt at trying to look like a Nyishi, much to the amusement of the Nyishi elder.

I seem to be in someone’s way. I turn. Not knowing each other’s language, we smile in greeting. Here is a man full of history, etched in deep lines like a map across a timeless face. His long hair is tied up over his head threaded by a porcupine quill to keep it in place. He is wearing a black overcoat over which is a necklace of shells worn like a sling. At the center of this necklace are the canines of a big cat, mouth wide open in anger. Each fang measures over 3 inches long. Around his waist is a thick coarse cloth that stretch to his calves. Barefoot, his feet are covered in dust. The only thing modern about him are his glasses.

What has this ancient seen, that I haven’t?
Where has this ancient been, that I haven’t?

______________

Kat Ramana is a traveler and writer 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.

[Aditya]

Thread moved out from the Assembly Line. Thanks for sharing!

[petrogeek]

Very nice travelogue. Markets across North East have similar vibes. Sadly the Ghost Chilli or Bhoot Jolokia is no longer the hottest chilli in the world. It has been relegated to fourth place. Pepper X is the hottest, followed by Carolina Reaper, and Trinidad Scorpion

[vaibhav_a_a]

I went to Bomdila, by public transport (ordinary bus), in 2016. Market very similar to the one you've photographed. It was a different feeling, the month being December, and a place not very much visited, to be the only tourist. The Arunachali women do turn away if you are shutter-happy.

From memory, they have the most amazing variety of beans - even many kind of red (possibly rajma) beans.

As a side trip i covered Sangti Valley, to see Siberian black-necked cranes. This was in a hired alto over rough roads. Still remember running through a grass field to get a decent shot - which i did.

Very interesting places. Thanks for sharing.

[SafariMan]

Stayed with AP tribes for a year from Kibithu to Yingkiong, Annini, Ziro to Namdapha/Kimin. 1000s of tribes, Mishmi being the more popular. They hate photos being taken. 12 Lakh population in a state area-wise rivalling UP. Amazing place. The Amazing North-East on road is a dream come true.