Fading Shangri-La:India's Tribal World

[Guest guest]

Fading Shangri-La: Trekking into twilight of India's tribal world

Associated Press

Mar. 30, 2003 12:00 AM

 

ZIRO, India - High up in an idyllic, secluded valley, the Apa Tanis

gather at noon to sacrifice a mithan with an ax blow through its

sinewy neck. By nightfall, the tribe is glued to an international

soccer match on satellite television.

 

"Siloso aloso daminda" ("Today, we welcome you to our village"), six

matrons sing to us, the melody floating toward the misty hills of

Arunachal Pradesh, one of Asia's last frontiers of indigenous culture

and a Shangri-La for those seeking refuge from mass tourism.

 

Adorned with silver bracelets and richly woven shawls, the women

dance in an arena of harvested rice fields backed by forests of pine

and bamboo. They are the last of countless generations to mark their

faces with tattoos and nostril plugs, which young, with-it Apa Tani

women shun as too ugly.

 

"There are very few places left in the world like this," said Yane

Dai, a pioneer of the infant tourist industry, who arranged our

journey. And after 10 days in this northeastern-most state of India,

our group of five friends agreed that hers was no marketing hype.

 

Human and natural diversity still flourish in Arunachal, home to 25

major tribes with distinct rituals, languages, dress and habitats.

Worshipers of spirits like the Nocte and Wancho inhabit tropical rain

forests among stalking tigers, while the Buddhist Monpa herd shaggy

yaks under the shadows of Himalayan peaks.

 

Thanks to a government policy dating to the 1950s, Arunachal has been

largely shielded from rampant modernization, its people allowed to

develop at a measured pace rather than being culturally gutted like

so many tribes across the globe.

 

Indian citizens from other states and foreigners need permits to

enter, and foreign tourists, allowed only since 1993, must travel in

small groups organized by licensed tour agencies. Twice the size of

Switzerland, Arunachal receives only 50 to 70 foreign tourists a year.

 

Just getting there can be an adventure as we discovered when our

rickety, wooden ferry took 5 1/2 hours to cross the Brahmaputra,

getting stuck after sunset on a sandbank in the middle of the river.

Crew and passengers leaped overboard to pry the boat loose with

planks and poles.

 

A day later, our trek began with a hair-raising clamber across a 300-

yard-long swaying bridge strung at a height of about 10 stories above

the green, foaming Siang River, as locals call the upper Brahmaputra.

Village women, carting huge loads on their backs, set the bridge

rocking as they skipped along, nimbly avoiding the vertigo-inducing

gaps in the bamboo foot rails.

 

>From the bridgehead our party, accompanied by 18 porters, guides and

cooks, set off on a stiff ascent into the Himalayan foothills and

through villages of the Adi tribe. It became evident that outsiders

were a rare species.

 

Children and adults squatted inches from our tents, trying to peep

inside as we wriggled out of sweaty trek gear to attempt sponge

baths. To break the ice, we tried out our limited Adi vocabulary, and

I initiated a game of stranger chases children away.

 

Agile kids shrieked with delight, but one slow youngster, eyes

bulging with horror, couldn't stop crying when caught. At the time,

we didn't know about tree ghosts swooping down to snatch children,

who sometimes return several days later in a trancelike state with no

memories of anything but the sound of wind rushing in their ears. Or

so tribal legends say.

 

Our trail continued into cold, dusky ravines, below tangled canopies

of palms and arching bamboo and up slopes that burst into vistas of

terraced rice paddies bathed by a winter sun. It wasn't hard to

believe that Arunachal possesses among the richest biodiversity in

the world, as many as 400 plant species per 100 square yards.

 

It was the sad privilege of glimpsing the autumn of tribal ways.

Tribal society, it seemed, was generally intact, but its outward

trappings were being discarded in all but the remotest areas, dusted

off for ceremonies and tourists.

 

"Tribal tourism will disappear in about 10 years. They are becoming

modernized, putting aside their traditional dress for jeans and

skirts," said Dai, our trip organizer, and herself a tribal woman.

 

Among the Apa Tani in Ziro, the sick and troubled still consult

shamans, who may prescribe killing a chicken or pig or even a mithan,

the semidomesticated gaur (cattle) prized by many Arunachal tribes.

 

The 15,000-strong tribespeople continue to live in traditional

harmony among themselves and with the natural environment, both

necessary given their constricted valley homeland where forests and

fields are husbanded for the sake of future generations.

 

But as we walked through Hong, a community of densely clustered

bamboo houses, village leaders pointed to the bobo poles, some

soaring as high as 59 feet, which symbolized a fading past.

 

Young men, attached by ropes, used to swing from them, performing

acrobatic feats at fertility festivals. But the custom was banned

about 15 years ago as too dangerous.

 

Gone, too, are the days when women studded with the largest nose

plugs, inserted outside the nostrils of young girls, enjoyed the most

prestige. Pressure from a tribal youth association got the practice

stopped in 1979.

 

After Ziro, and 435 miles by vehicle and foot through the state's

central belt, the jeep serpentined down from the hills, toward the

teeming plains of India. It slipped through Arunachal's barely opened

door and into our own, starkly different world.

 

In the flurry of heartfelt goodbyes to new friends, our trekking

boots were left behind. But a message from Dai promptly followed. The

boots were safe, cleaned and ready for the trail to Tawang: Buddhist

monks chanting at the mountaintop monastery and tents pitched beneath

Himalayan ranges.

 

 

Ziro, India

 

GETTING THERE: There are no airports in the state. Entry is overland

from Assam state, which has several airports with connections to some

Indian cities. A weekly flight from Guwahati, the capital of Assam,

to Bangkok, Thailand, was launched recently.

 

COST: Individual travel is not allowed. Local tour agencies charge

about $95 a day per person for everything but tips, gifts and

alcoholic drinks. There is also a $50 entry fee for each traveler.

 

ENTRY: Special permits, which are best handled through a tour agency,

are needed to enter Arunachal Pradesh. Allow at least one month for

processing. Most nationals also need Indian visas, which can be

obtained at Indian embassies around the world.

 

GETTING BY: English is spoken by some in the towns, but the services

of a guide-translator are essential in most areas.

 

WHEN TO GO: Mid-September to mid-December and mid-March to May are

the best times to visit. December, January and February can be

bitterly cold in the Himalayan upper regions. Monsoon rains and

leeches make travel and trekking almost impossible much of the rest

of the year.

 

TOUR SERVICES: Our party used the excellent services of Donyi Hango

Adventure and Tours, based in Arunachal Pradesh and run by a tribal

couple, Ozing and Yane Dai. They arrange trekking, rafting, wildlife

viewing and cultural tours. Telephone: 91-360-2244-977. Fax: 91-360-

2247-642. E-mail: yanedaisancharnet.in.

 

DETAILS: Official state Web site: arunachalpradesh.nic.in/.