Thursday 16 June 2016

KHONOMA, Nagaland ---Nature Undisturbed



                       "One's destination is never a place , but a new way of seeing things."


You don’t need an alarm clock in Khonoma . At the crack of dawn , the crowing of the village roosters wakes you up to a clear, azure sky and a 360 degree view of the verdant hills. Before the sun has consolidated its position in the sky,the folks are on their way to work on the beautiful terraced rice fields and the children are off to school in their smart attire.  It was an amazing weekend !!



How did we reach Khonoma?

We clocked approx. 334kms to Kohima, capital city of Nagaland, north-east India, and another 20kms to Khonoma village.  NH 37 bifurcates to Asian Highway  1(AH1) near Nowgaon taking us via Doboka and Dimapur to Kohima. The roads are fairly good save for patches in Assam and the sinking area(land-slide prone) in Nagaland. However,it is possible to fly into Dimapur or reach the town by train , but the next 69 kms to Kohima has to be covered by road. The drive was a visual feast.The rains made all the difference to the green foliage.


                       " Some beautiful paths can't be discovered without getting lost.."


After  having spent a night in Kohima , we drove onwards to the “Green Village” of Khonoma.
 It is barely 20 kms from Kohima but we took an hour. The best route is to come through the Jotsama –Peren road but  my travelling partner, Bee, likes to take the unbeaten track  and chose the more challenging route where our GPS got confused leading us to ask strangers for directions at every bend. The road is narrow, uphill, partly gravel  and  there is no signage till the highway.   Nevertheless, it was an interesting ride , almost like a treasure hunt trying to locate the “shy"village: “shy”  cause you don’t get a glimpse of the hamlet nestled amoungst the hills, perched at 3048 meters above sea level ,  till the last 3 kms when  a U-turn is made. 



Khonoma Village.....  two kms ahead


                                      "We were in for the right things at the right Inn"

Where did we stay?

Michael , our guide, affable and knowledgeable, a proud Naga of the Angami tribe,  met us at the Baptist Church. Incidentally , there are three churches –A Baptist church, Roman Catholic and a Revival (not sure?)----in a village of 5000 which reflected the religious values of the inhabitants. The earthiness of the village was evident in its simplicity. 

We drove into Dovie Pie Inn, an abode of a unique stay, where the staff is friendly , room is  clean with an adjoining terrace where we could sit to take in the geographical terrain and mysticism of Nagaland. The Inn offers rooms from $30 to $50. Nice name, Dovie Pie ; it was named after the owner's ancestor .
Dovie Pie Inn



The terrace....360 degree view of the hills



What did we do ?

Without  wasting much time after check-in  we set out with a steely resolve to capture everything in one day. Armed with sturdy  walking shoes and our igloo-shaped umbrellas  we followed Michael (cell no: +91 98628 63176 )  on the historic village trail. A great story teller , he walked the talk....the history of the village , covering the wars with the Btitish in 1879-80 , pointing out the memorial of the British officers who laid down their lives attempting to capture the village. 


Memorial


 The age-old  village was  impregnable at that time,  with fortified walls and four gates atop a hill making it impossible to be occupied. During the World War II (Battle of Kohima) the villagers played a note-worthy role in shipping artillery through the hills and ravines to the British army in kohima.
 In the 1950’s during the time of the Naga insurgency , the village was raised to the ground by the Indian army ,forcing the population to abandon their homes . Mr A.Z. Phizo who spear-headed the movement for an Independent Nagaland as leader of Naga National Council(NNC) belonged to this village. There is a memorial at the far end in honour of the martyrs. The area has seen good and bad days. Today, it stands tall as one of the greenest and cleanest villages in India. It is peaceful and serene . The proud sons of the soil have done well . Many have moved out into the world.



Fort




“We don’t cut trees or kill animals,” said Michael . Once upon a time he was a sharp-shooter , bringing in trophies by a dozen . That’s history for him . ...he lives by the River Khuru ,rich in Rainbow Trout,  grows flowers and vegetables  and writes books about his people. Hunting having been the main occupation historically , it was difficult to convince the older generation of the essence of conservation . Trophies are still to be seen in many homes as a reminder of the past.

Trophies...reminder of the past



  Khonoma Nature and Conservation Trust and Tragopan Sanctuary has made singular contribution to conservation. The sacred grove of trees is revered . Although shifting cultivation continues , it is done in a very scientific manner. The alder trees are hardy and resistant to fire.The Tragopan bird is a diminishing breed but you are very, very lucky you may spot one.
An abode of a unique flora and fauna ,( alder trees, bisons and tragopan Bird) the model village of Khonoma has a regular water supply and electricity at every home. The cobbled paths and steps have been built by the local work-force with materials from the village quarry , each group of boys accountable for their section. There are 3 high schools and 3 primary schools. Surprisingly, I spied three cell-phone towers which speaks a lot about the penetration of the phone companies.

Cobbled path....neat and clean 

You cannot leave Khonoma without visiting a “Morong” or dormitory for bachelor boys. Made of
bamboo, these traditional, beautiful  huts is the home where the young boys learn life-skills, folk-lore, ancestral songs and facts of life.There are songs for every occasion .
 A few lines of a lullaby particularly appealed to me :

 “Cry not my little one, Fear not for I am here, Will hold you, come what may in my arms.”
 
The Morong is an essential part of every boy's life and a symbol of pride of each village . It houses the trophies and weapons of the young men. Although the convention of staying in a Morung is fading with the invasion of modern practices , Khonoma is still known for its active dormitories.   Popular sports are wrestling , foot-ball and volley ball.



A model Morung...a show -piece

                                                        Shield on display inside the Morung


                                "I love going out of my way, beyond what I know.........."

For trekkers and nature –lovers the village is an ideal destination.All arrangements are made by the tour-guide.

 The World War II trail is particularly popular and takes about 8 hours. The novelty of walking down to the paddy fields is an experience which every city-dweller would enjoy. Forty varieties of rice are grown. The USP of the Dzouku Valley Trail is the all-pervading stillness ,hush and the symbiosis of the individual with Nature. Unlike other trails , you do not hear the sound of a car-engine even in the remote distance.

Terraced rice-fields



                                   "The next best thing about eating food is talking about it...."

   What did we eat?

Smoked , dried ,fermented and boiled are the cooking methods used . Rice is the staple carbohydrate. The King Chilli ,bamboo shoots  and “axuni”(fermented soya-beans)are essential ingredients.
 Boiled vegetables and boiled organic edible leaves like yam , mustard , pumpkin are served. Pork with bamboo-shoot is a hot favourite.  
We gorged on the food after a full-day....we dug in and ate like pigs!!! A glass of rice beer completed our day. No neurotic fear of fighting the fat !!!!

Sticky rice, pork bamboo shoot, dried fish chutney, lentils with herbs, boiled veggies

The gold coin faded with the day's end. Tucked away in a remote corner of India , Khonoma lives on its own time zone far removed from the rest of the world despite its connectivity. The moment you step into the cobbled walk-ways the small pristine village begins to tell its ancient story.



 
Evening

As we sat on the terrace listening to Michael’s tales of yore, the fog engulfed us, darkness set in . The gurgling of the river water  was amplified in the twilight . The fading sound of  crickets stirred me
into creativity. I wrote and wrote till I fell into deep slumber and woke when the cocks crowed !


Let me end with a quote from Louis L'Amour "I think of myself as a troubadour, a village story-teller the guys in the shadows of a camp-fire..."



In traditional attire