Backpacking Through
Arunachal Pradesh

chillibreeze writer — Kanchuki Sarma

Need an editable PowerPoint map of North East India

To drink or not to drink – that was the question. We are sitting cross-legged on the floor around the open fireplace, staring into the cups of tea in front of us. The fire lit up our faces occasionally, but mostly we were in semi-darkness. I took my first sip of the Yak butter tea - lovingly offered in small china cups by our hosts. The tea was salty, tasted slightly rancid and it smelt like meat forgotten in the car boot through many hot summer days! I could not venture a second sip.

The Grandma sitting opposite me wrinkled and with crows-feet in the corners of her eyes, was lulled into slumber by the warmth of the fire. The rest of the family watched us expectantly. We still had our almost-full cups of tea in front of us.

Then suddenly, as though on a cue, we pcked up our cups, and downed the tea. I winced at the stale taste of yak butter preserved for ages in Yak hide. Our heroic effort at drinking the tea was rewarded - wide grins broke out across the faces of our hosts as they saw us accept their offering.

My husband, my sister and I were spending the night in the hut of a shepherd family. We were on a 7 day backpacking trip through villages along the foot hills of the Himalayas - in the state of Arunachal Pradesh in the North East of India. Our journey started in Guwahati, the capital of the state of Assam and the hub of the region. For my sister and me, this journey was the beginning of a larger attempt to understand the culture, geography, people, flora and fauna of our roots. We decided to make a start by exploring the tribal villages of Arunachal Pradesh.

Trying to understand a state that had so much diversity was daunting yet thrilling. There are 20 main tribes and innumerable sub-tribes with their own dialects living in the state. There is a significant Buddhist population and the largest Buddhist monastery in India is located here, in the city of Tawang. The scenery is spectacular – rolling foothills rising up gradually into the towering Himalayan peaks. Outside the tourist circuit of most people who travel in India, the experience of travelling here promised to be unique. I was doubtful though whether within a mere 10 days, we would be able to connect and understand the people here and the beautiful state where they lived.

The connections happened sometimes – and in unexpected ways. One evening after we had pitched our tents, we were surrounded by teenagers and adolescents from the nearby village. The dilapidated village, really only a cluster of dirty hamlets, offered nothing to the inhabitants in the form of entertainment. I was pretty sure that we were the entertainment for the evening, as very soon we had a veritable throng of young people surrounding us. Then one of them asked us to sing a song from a Hindi movie – my husband Arun obliged. Before we knew it, the boisterous ones among the crowd were belting out the popular movie numbers with us. We enjoyed ourselves thoroughly that evening, sitting under the star-lit sky, our loud voices carrying into the distant mountains.

Sometimes, as we are walking through a village, people would call out to us from their houses. Tsering, our guide, would immediately have a happy smile on his face, and apologetically look at us. By then, we knew what that looked meant, and were resigned to it. He could pop into the hut, bring out large glasses of freshly made maize beer. And we would all be sitting around the courtyard, drinking. Why those villagers would call out to complete strangers and offer them beer, sometimes as early as 8 am in the morning, still remains a puzzle to me.

We meandered our way through three villages in this way, sleeping on a couple of occasions in the huts of tribal families, once in a sad broken school house, once in a government guest house. Always finding ourselves the object of curiosity, sometimes fortunate to engage with the village folks as something other than city slickers who for reasons unknown were walking about their villages.

As we walked down the hills on the last day of our trek, I realized that our experience of spending a few days among the Monpa tribe was a precious memory that I would carry back with me. It was an attempt to be a part of what we saw, to truly be of the place. By accepting the situation we were in and taking what we received, we were getting that much closer to our goal of truly understanding a new place.

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—About our writer: Kanchuki writes for chillibreeze.

 

 

 

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