It's something else. The first time I ever went to Arunachal, I saw the forests I had only read about. Our new car swam through the river as the bridge had collapsed. The thick forests were dark and moist, giant ferns right out of a sci fi movie, and a world which, for long stretches, without plastic. An occasional human on the road carried with him his Dha in a intricately woven bamboo scabbard, a cane backpack and a hat made of such tightly woven cane that you could scoop out water from the river and drink form it.
It was several years after this first journey that I went to trek in this eastern himalayan region. First it was the Subansiri Valley that we followed from Limeking to Taksing and followed the river fork to another small valley, exploring the Indian semicircle of the kora(parikrama) route the early Buddists have written in ancient texts. We went looking
for pilgrim shelters and spoke to people who could tell us about lores of the region. People still carried a catapult (for a quick bird snack), had a waterproof jacket made of reeds, their waterproof hat, serving as a bowl and the ubiquitous cane scabbard with their Dha in it.The trails here are unlike any part of the Himalayas. If you have to ascend, then you climb a ladder or hold on to vines and climb 85 degrees. You reach the topmost ridge and walk on the knife edge with sharp, scary,unbelievable drops on either side. To avoid falling into the river, two casually thrown logs were the only, albeit euphemistic,"bridges". the concept of trails is different here as the foliage is thick and plants (like the magic beanstalk) cover trails overnight. You could get lost forever. So, you need a local (a hunter preferably) who knows where to hack the bamboos and other green things to make a trail. In several places, for an unrealistic amount of time, you can't see the sky because of the canopy of trees.
When you "trek", you crouch, stomp, balance on single,slithery logs, proceed valiantly till you reach the next wate source. When you camp you may have to shrug at a snake, watch out for leeches, make a fire to keep out the bears. When you breathe, you inhale a concoction of leaves, animal scents, fresh water and the bourbon biscuits you've pulled out for a snack. At meal times you notice that the cook's spoon has been carved out of a young tree or an old branch, everyone e
lse is drinking out of a fresly cut bamboo glass (is that an oxymoron?) no plates are necessary because there are banana leaves or some other leaves bigger, better and more environment friendly making you camp style multipurpose utensil look like a fancy fool.In this Subansiri valley, people hunt, live off the jungle or wait for Government supply of rice , salt and kerosine. the only reason they go to the plains to to lug 100 bottles of rum. It breaks the monotony of drinking the home brewed Apung. Besides, its good business. This valley had villages and people wove, farmed, went to school and even had electricity. One woman was weaving on a waist looma nd we got talking. i asked her what she would do with the fresh deer pelt that was hung out to dry. She, answered, " Oh, I plan to make a fancy hand bag with it!". Sorority- Women world over.
But there were also those who lived in the jungle - like "Bandar Mara" (before you think blood, mara is a clan name) who set traps for hares, rats or mongoose. He shot at bears, deer and of course monkeys. He built his new home in a few days, flattening and weaving bamboo for walls and felling a few perfect trees fro pillars, layering flat palm leaves for the thatch. He showed us how to set a trap for small animals using a flat stone and a couple of slivers of bamboo with a tiny bit of bait. This, I christen as the "chutney trap" with the poor rodent being flattened for its mistake. I was to meet this trap and its casualties in my future journeys in the Lohit valley and the Siang (Yang sang Chu) valley as well.
