Sun Moon Lake and Assam Tea

Last month, I was in Taiwan for about a week with Mum. We spent a few days at Sun Moon Lake (日月潭), which we used as a base to visit our places, including Alishan (阿里山). The mornings and evenings were blissfully quiet without the hordes of tourists arriving by mid-morning.

One thing I did not expect to see were signs for 'Assamese Black Tea' products, including this one for 'Assamese Black Tea' egg rolls.

This signboard near the Shuishe visitor centre also mentioned 'Assam Black Tea Cuisine'.

What I didn't realise was that in 1925 (or 1926), black tea from Assam was brought by the Japanese to the Sun Moon Lake area for cultivation. Apparently, the climate and soil conditions of the area are similar to those of Assam and so the tea thrived here. I have to admit, the area did remind me a little of North-east India, but mainly because of the extensive betel nut (areca nut) plantations filling the valleys! Today, black tea production still continues, albeit on a smaller scale. There's a Sun Moon Lake Antique Assam Tea Farm in nearby Yuchi (鱼池) if you're interested in learning more about tea cultivation in the area.

 

I should also mention that the area around Sun Moon Lake was previously inhabited mainly by the Thao (pronounced [θau]), many of whom continue to live close to the lake. They are the smallest group out of the 14 officially recognised aboriginal tribes of Taiwan. The Thao language, an Austronesian language, is critically endangered - Robert Blust estimated that there were only about 15 remaining fluent speakers living in the village of Barawbaw (now commonly known as Ita Thao (伊達邵), seen in the photos above from across the lake) when he published his dictionary of the Thao language back in 2003. Despite Blust's amazing efforts in making what is perhaps the most comprehensive dictionary of a Formosan language, the language unfortunately looks to be moribund, if not already extinct. Blust also was thankful that the community emerged mostly unscathed from the deadly 1999 earthquake which caused massive damage around the country.

On a final note, the day Mum and I left Sun Moon Lake, a magnitude 6.1 earthquake struck the region. We had just left the lake by bus and had arrived at the Taichung High Speed Railway station. The quake struck while we were waiting for our train to take us back to Taoyuan to catch our flight back to Singapore. The section of the high speed railway we were supposed to travel on was shut down for several hours while inspections took place. However, thanks to some very helpful locals, and Taiwan's amazing intercity transport network, we managed to catch a bus straight from Taichung to the Taoyuan International Airport to catch our flight home.

Wild Grass Lodge at Kaziranga

While accommodation options abound in and around the town of Kohora, for visitors planning forays into neighbouring Kaziranga National Park, one place stands out for me. It came highly recommended by an Assamese friend who also had his wedding here at the end of December 2012, just a few weeks after my stay.

The Wild Grass Lodge is located just east of the town of Kohora, a few kilometres off the main highway. If you're lucky, you might actually see the 'sign' for the place as you're driving along the highway, though most would hardly call it a sign. I don't even remember what it looks like, because I called the lodge to send a car to pick us up from Dimapur in Nagaland. It seems that there used to be clearer signage in the past, but the owner of the lodge was forced to remove it because the lodge became too popular, especially during peak periods (there's only a small window of opportunity to visit Kaziranga since the park is usually only open between November and April, and partially open in October and May depending on weather conditions).

In any case, the best way to get there is either to call them and ask for a taxi, or to ask any locals you see along the highway as you drive eastwards out of Kohora town.

The lodge is best suited for guests who have come to enjoy nature in one of India's best national parks. Most of the rooms are located in two tall buildings, and none come with television sets. There are heaps of open green spaces at the lodge. There also used to be a pool in the clearing between the buildings, but that has been removed. If you're looking for those luxuries, I would suggest going to the nearby Iora Resort - I've been inside one of the rooms there and it was pretty swanky, but for me the whole point of coming to a national park is to see nature, not hide from it.

In terms of food, we certainly never went hungry. I believe breakfast was included with the room rate, as well as lots of tea and snacks. The restaurant staff were extremely friendly and very generous with lunch and dinner. There were the usual Indian and Chinese options, but my Assamese friend had recommended that I try a number of their Assamese dishes, including their alu jolphai pitika (Assamese mashed potatoes with olives), maas bhapôt diya (Assamese steamed fish, which sort of reminded my friend of pickled herring) [Click here for a recipe by Ruprekha, who follows my blog] and their fried pork. Apart from the olives, which I found too sour for my taste, I loved all the food we got.

Bear in mind that it's best to notify the restaurant staff a day in advance so that they can obtain all the necessary ingredients fresh.

Most importantly, the guides they assign to you (and if they don't assign one, ask for one) are locals who are incredibly knowledgeable and passionate about the flora and fauna in the national park. From what I could tell, they're also pretty good at gauging the level of interest that the guests have with regards to wildlife viewing, and don't overwhelm their guests with too much information.

You'll probably be relying on the lodge's vehicles to move between your accommodation and the park. If you want to go for a walk (because you're missing TV and forgot to bring a good book), there's a large tea estate within walking distance from the lodge.

Finally, in the evenings there are often performances by either local Assamese or ex-tea tribe troupes. There may be people around to help explain some aspects of the performances, but this may require some knowledge of Assamese or Hindi.

All in all, I really enjoyed my stay at the Wild Grass Lodge. This visit to Kaziranga National Park turned out to be much more successful than my first traumatic visit to Kohora back in January 2011!

Elephant ride at Kaziranga National Park

Even though I am not in NE India at the moment, I still have a couple of things I have been meaning to post. Back in December, after the Hornbill Festival in Kohima, I took my friend Simon to the Kaziranga National Park in neighbouring Assam. It was a convenient time to go since he was already in the area. However, February to April is usually a better time of the year to visit as the grass is not quite as tall.

One of the highlights of a trip to Kaziranga National Park is going on elephant safari. There are four areas in the park that offer them, with both morning and afternoon sessions (click here for more info). An elephant safari lasts about an hour. However, I think this varies based on demand so it's best to check the day before, especially for the morning rides. Since we stayed at the Wild Grass Lodge, our guide organised it for us the night before.

We were up bright and early for a cup of tea, before driving into the park for the 5.30am safari. The mahouts were all ready and waiting for us, as well as a busload of European tourists (mainly French and Dutch, or possibly Belgian) who had only spent the night at the lodge, and were heading upriver to Majuli Island later that day.

I personally prefer mornings to evenings for wildlife viewing, but that morning it was extremely foggy. We still managed to spot lots of birds and larger mammals, thanks to our excellent mahout / guide. He was a Rabha man whose his hometown was Goalpara, or perhaps a village close to Goalpara. He had been living in Kohora and working as a mahout for about 15 years (if my memory serves me correctly). He was also very knowledgeable about the wildlife in the park. In addition to knowing all the English names (and the Assamese names, which I've sadly forgotten) for common animals in the park, he also knew where to go to spot them and had very good eyes.

One of the first animals we spotted was a hog deer. These, along with the larger swamp deer, are the most common deer in the park.

Among the group we were travelling in, our guide was the first one to spot a rhino. The Indian Rhinoceros is the one of the main reasons people come to visit the park, and you can get very close to them if you're on an elephant. Of course, by the end of that day we'd seen so many rhinos, we had already started to take them a little bit for granted...

But that morning, we even came across a sleeping rhino, who opened its eyes as our elephant got closer.

Our guide had already asked a mahout on another elephant to take a photo of us on the elephant. But he very kindly asked him again, so that we could have this awesome photo of the three of us sitting on the elephant with the rhino in the background.

I was really appreciate of our guide for doing that, since the Durch tourist on the other elephant certainly did not get a photo like this! Also, our guide took a longer route back to the drop-off point than most of the others, so our safari actually lasted longer than an hour.

Finally, some tips if you are planning to go on safari:

- Most of the mahouts / guides speak Hindi and Assamese, while guides employed by the lodges will generally speak English as well. It's great to know some Assamese or Hindi if you're going on an elephant safari, but most of the mahouts will know the English names for animals.

- As with all wildlife watching, don't expect the guide to do all the looking for you. They'll have more experience in the park, but it doesn't mean you should sit back and wait for them to point out animals to you. The more eyes on the lookout, the better.

- Don't forget to tip (at least a few hundred rupees, if not more) - these mahouts / guides don't get paid as much as the guides employed by the lodges!

Visit to Umananda Mandir, Guwahati

As I'll be heading back to Nagaland in a few days' time for the Hornbill Festival, I thought I'd finish posting about some of the sightseeing I've been doing in Guwahati the past two weeks. Last week, my friend A. S. dropped into Guwahati for a few days and we ended up doing a bit of sightseeing, visiting places that I hadn't been to, even though I've been in Guwahati since August, and this is the 2nd extended stay here.

One place we visited was the Umananda Mandir on Peacock Island, situated in the middle of the Brahmaputra, just north of the city. I'd seen the island many times from my walks along the Brahmaputra, but had never actually visited the island.

Getting there isn't too difficult. There are ferries (shared or for individual hire) at Sukreswar Ghat (or rather, the makeshift ghat next to the Sukreswar Ghat park between Fancy Bazar and Pan Bazar). We paid Rs 550 to hire a whole boat to take us to the island and back at our own leisure, but some guys that came back as we were heading off paid Rs 500. I think there was also a shared ferry that left at regular intervals, though I can't remember the price for that.

There is another ferry service that lives from Uzan Bazar Ghat, but I don't know the price either. [Note: this photo was taken near the end of the monsoon, when the water level was still very high. At this time of year, the boat on the left sits on a sand bank.]

The boat ride was pleasant enough, and took us past the real Sukreswar Ghat.

The highlight though, was seeing the sun set over the river. We left around 3.45pm, and given how far east we are within this time zone, the sun sets by about 4.30pm at this time of year here.

The temple complex itself was charming enough. It was originally a Shiva temple built by an Ahom king. (The Ahoms actually came from further east, speaking a language that is closer to Thai than to Assamese.) However, most of the original temple was damaged in the quake of 1897 and the temple was subsequently rebuilt. The current Wikipedia article says it was a 'rich local merchant', and judging by the use of tiles, I would hazard a guess that it was a Marwari merchant whose family hailed from Rajasthan.

And this is the temple itself.

Apart from the temple, the island is known to be home to a small troupe of golden langurs (a kind of monkey). We didn't have enough time to look for them as we walked around the island, but we did manage to see them in the trees on the boat ride back to Guwahati.

Next time I go, I'd probably give myself another half an hour or so and leave Sukreswar Ghat around 3pm (or roughly 1.5 hours before sunset), as I would've liked to have more time to look for langurs.

Still, it was a wonderful afternoon out on the Brahmaputra, and we got to see one of those amazing sunsets over the river that I've come to love.

Million Dollar Bill

The past two week I've been receiving messages from an Assamese guy who used to work at the guest house I was staying in in Guwahati. (I've found out that he's since been fired.)

It started with half a dozen missed calls on my phone after I'd just gotten back from a trip to Nagaland. He then left a message asking if I could give him a minute of my time.

When I rang him back, he asked me if I 'knew about a million dollars'. It took a while before he told me that his brother had in his possession a 'US one million dollar note'. He wanted me to see if it was real or a 'duplicate'.

Although novelty million dollar notes are allowed and have been printed out (according to Wikipedia), but none are legal tender. I told him there was no such thing as a 'US million dollar bill', and that you can't have a duplicate of something that isn't real.

A few days ago, I got this second message:

Brow right now i m having 1 million doler... (united kingdom) brow can u seck that note pz.. pz met me...i will go to ur place

[Note: seck means 'check' - 'ch' becomes 's' as a result of influence from Assamese]

The Chinese are coming

Yesterday marked the 50th anniversary of the start of the 1962 Sino-Indian War, which saw fighting between India and China over two disputed border territories in the Western and Eastern parts of the Himalayans. There was probably more to the war than the border dispute (Tibet had been annexed, the Dalai Lama had also recently been granted asylum by India) - the Wikipedia page has a list of references about the war.

The conflict was never actually resolved, and Arunachal Pradesh / South Tibet just to the north of Assam is still claimed by both India and China. Even today, while other NE Indian states have removed the need for foreigners to obtain Restricted Area Permits (RAPs) or Protected Area Permits (PAPs), visitors to Arunachal still need a permit.

Here're some articles about the 50th anniversary:

50 Years Since Sino-Indian Battle: War Never Begets Peace (International Business Times)

Half a Century ago - October 20, 1962 (Times of Assam)

Lessons of the Sino-Indian War (Japan Times)

The other night I was sitting in a friend's house in Guwahati listening to her friend, a former DCO (district coordination officer) who'd worked all over Assam. He was telling a little joke / anecdote (of dubious historical authenticity) about the war. 

The story went like this. A Marwari (Rajasthani) trader had a business in a town near the border between Assam and Arunachal. One day, on the eve of the war, he caused a massive panic in town when he was heard saying, "Chini ahise." Everyone thought he'd meant 'The Chinese are coming.' or 'The Chinese have come.'

Of course, he just meant that the 'sugar' had arrived.

Responsibility, Racism and Recharging a prepaid SIM card

As you can guess from the title, this post is about responsibility, racism and trying to recharge a prepaid SIM card (with a phone company whose name starts with 'R' incidentally).

It happened about 2 weeks ago at a little shop in Paltan Bazar. The credit on the SIM card that I use for my 3G mobile internet had expired after just one month and I needed to buy more credit. Now, this wasn't the first time I've had to recharge a SIM card - it's something I have to do constantly when I'm here, especially since I'm only ever here for a few months at a time and don't have a fixed address in India.

The shop I had gone to previously wasn't opened, since it was still 9am, so when I walked past an open shop, I asked the guy there (in Assamese and English) if he could recharge my SIM. He said he could, so I thought, why not. As is common practice here, I gave him the number to recharge, he paid the phone company using the credit on his phone as a dealer, and he got a reply message saying the amount I'd asked for had been credited. So I handed over the Rs 1,099/- (which is not a small sum for monthly internet) plus his service charge / fee.

The only problem: I didn't get a confirmation message immediately, and couldn't get connected to the internet. I told the guy, and he said it would take 15 minutes, which in my experience, shouldn't have been the case. I sat there next to the shop and waited 15 minutes, and still nothing. He then said it was a 'system error' and would take half an hour.

Yeah right, I thought. But I needed breakfast, so I went to get something to eat.

Half an hour later, still nothing. So I went back.

I told him I still hadn't received a message and that my internet still wasn't reconnected. He checked the number of the SIM on my computer, and the number I had given him was correct.

He said he'd done the top-up and that "This is not my problem". I told him that he needed to call customer care to find out what went wrong, but he kept repeating that this was no longer his problem. I told him in my best Assamese (with bits of English thrown in) that I was supposed to receive a message, and that I didn't. I'd given him my money, but received nothing. He insisted that he had done the top-up, then started speaking to me in Hindi.

At this point, I raised my voice and said in broken Hindi that I didn't understand Hindi, which is true - I'd only done a few classes of Hindi with tutor about 4 years ago. He grumbled, saying something about how I could speak Assamese, but not Hindi.

Eventually, I dialed the customer care service number and got him to speak to them. He started speaking to the lady on the phone in Hindi. I heard the word 'tribal', followed by 'doesn't understand Hindi', said in Hindi, which ironically I could understand, because that's one of the first phrases I learn in any language. He hung up shortly after, with absolutely nothing resolved.

This of course led to more yelling on my part. I was furious. He said I had to go to the customer office myself. I told him I didn't have time for that - I was going to be late for a meeting at the university. I started to blame him - I mean, I've given him all that money and got nothing in return. It was his job to top up my credit, and that job hadn't been done. What's worse, as a foreigner here, it's much harder for me to locate offices and other addresses here (given the lack of a proper address system) and there's the language barrier to consider when I'm trying to ask people on the street for directions.

Eventually, I left the guy and made it to the customer service office, which was in the opposite direction from where I was meant to be heading, but at least I knew where it was because I had previously spent half a day looking for it a month and a half before. When I got there, I explained that the top-up had been successful. The problem was that the first shop where I'd purchased the SIM card out in Adabari hadn't submitted my documents to the main office. I told them I'd already managed to recharge the card successfully at another shop in Paltan Bazar a month before, and didn't see why it should fail now. They said that it sometimes happened when the documentation wasn't submitted.

I didn't quite see the logic, but after a second trip to the office they managed to get me reconnected within two days. Given the amount of time I had to spend at the office (which only opened at 10am), and the distance to the university, I pretty much had to write off those two days.


Now looking back at the situation, I knew it wasn't the guy at the shop's fault - the amount I'd paid him had been deducted from his phone and he received the confirmation message from the company. But what else could I do? And let''s not forget that he just kept making stupid excuses at the start, then chose to shirk all responsibility afterwards, while referring to me as a 'tribal'.

And that's the first thing I want to examine: responsibility. So many things are mired in bureaucracy here, that it's so easy to push the responsibility to someone else. From his perspective of the shopkeeper, he'd done his job - it was now the phone company's problem. From my perspective, it's like I've paid a waiter to take my order to the cook, who is supposed to deliver the food to a window where I can collect it myself, but fails to deliver the order. The waiter says he's done his job, but I'm still waiting hungrily by the window. The only way I can get my food, is to go straight into kitchen. So what's the point of having the waiter in the first place?

And it's so easy to shirk responsibility, the more layers of bureaucracy you have, and the more middlemen you have. It's one reason why so much public funding can get siphoned off here to personal accounts. It's one reason why security forces here are so ineffectual. To take a slightly different example, I told my brother that I found it ridiculous that at Kathmandu Airport, they would do a baggage scan at the entrance, then before the departure gate, and finally on the runway just before you board the plane (for Jet Airways flights at least). He pointed out that that was a terrible security set-up, because the guards at the start would feel like they could slack off, since they think the guards after them will catch whatever they miss. But then the guards at the end would also feel like they could slack off since they think that the guards before them would have caught anything worth catching.

But moving on from the issue of responsibility (or lack thereof) there's the use of the word 'tribal' here. Some might argue that terms like 'tribal' and 'backward caste' are simply appellations for different groups of people, but this context, it was absolutely derogatory.

Most people assume I'm from this area, but I can see the change in the way I'm treated once they realise I'm actually a foreigner. Suddenly, I'm judged on a whole different set of criteria, whether justifiably or not.

The other day, this article by Walter Fernandes, former director of the North Eastern Social Research Centre in Guwahati, appeared in the Seven Sisters Post: The Idea of India. One quote that stuck out was:

"A major cause of division is the feeling in much of India that the Northeast is different from the “mainstream” and should merge with the “mainland” on the terms of the “mainstream”."

There's a sense of cultural superiority here, with the 'tribals' still needing to be civilised by the 'mainstream', which is an Aryan-Dravidian culture that I would say is primarily Hindu.

The irony here is that back home, a lot of 'mainstream' Hindu culture is seen as antiquated, like women needing to be accompanied by a male companion when they travel, or at best, 'quaint' or 'charming', when looking at the constant stream of religious festivals. In comparison, a lot more of my 'tribal' friends are much more well-versed (for better or worse) in Western culture.

In the end, I was furious at the shopkeer. But at least at the end of the day I can assert my foreigner status when I'm here. Most of my 'tribal' friends in other parts of India have to deal with this sort of racism for as long as they have to live there.

The Mighty Brahmaputra

While many parts of Northern Britain have also been hit by severe weather and flooding, the headlines of all the local papers here in Assam have been about one thing the past week: the massive flooding happening all over the Brahmaputra valley which has displaced thousands and killed more than a dozen people.

Floods sweep more areas (Seven Sisters Post, 24/09/2012)

Flood scene worsens in State, 18 dead  (The Assam Tribune, 25/09/2012)

Note that severe flooding in July already displaced more than a million people and killed more than 100 people (as mentioned in this BBC article about the current flooding situation ). Most of Majuli Island, the world's largest 'river island' (which used to have an area almost twice that of Singapore) is underwater as well.

Up till the past few days, the situation was mostly in Upper Assam, but now the flood waters have started to enter parts of Guwahati:

Flood situation turns critical in central, lower Assam (The Hindu, 25/09/2012)

Brahmaputra crosses danger mark, situation in Guwahati grim (The Sentinel, 25/09/2012)

I'm thankful that the part of town I'm staying at isn't at immediate risk of flooding, although I will have trouble commuting to the university if water levels don't recede soon. The part of town I took these photos just a month ago is also underwater, with houses in nearby Pandu inundated and people not wanting to leave their homes for fear that thieves will enter in their absence.





Not surprisingly here, one of the first things that came to mind for many local people is that China is somehow responsible, what with the construction of the Zangmu Dam further upstream. The papers immediately addressed this with articles like this one:
Water from China not to blame (The Assam Tribune, 23/09/2012)

Of course, the conspiracy theorists will still believe what they want to believe.

What we do know is that in spite of everything, the Chief Minister of Assam still decided it was important to leave the state to go to Japan to "study Goods and Services Tax (GST) and related matters."

Patisserie Operaa, Guwahati

About three weeks into my current stay in Guwahati, I discovered an absolute gem on GS Road, just two bus stops away from where I'm staying in Paltan Bazar. It's a little patisserie in Lachit Nagar (opposite the KFC) called "Patisserie Operaa". It's named for the famous 'opera cake'. I can only assume the double 'a' in Opera is to prevent any confusion as the pronunciation of the last vowel (since a single 'a' is often used in transliterations of Assamese for the vowel /ɔ/, similar to the vowel in English 'hot', not /a/.)



I'd seen the patisserie each time I'd gone down GS Road, and I was immediately attracted by the interior decor. It's one of the few places here I'd actually feel comfortable sitting around in for hours.




Of course, I've been to places here with nice interiors, but simply awful food (which I tend to put up with anyway just so I have somewhere to sit and read or do work). But the pastry chef at Patisserie Operaa trained at Le Cordon Bleu Institute in London, and it really shows in the cakes and pastries. I'm still blown away each time I go and try their cake - part of me can't believe that I'm in Guwahati!

So far, I've avoided the cakes with white cream on them, only because they remind me of the ubiquitous cakes with 'cream' toppings you find in bakeries all over this part of the world. But judging from the other cakes that I've tried, there's no reason to be worried.

Here's the eponymous Opera cake. The sponge had been soaked in coffee, and was moist without becoming soggy.



The fudge in the chocolate cake was rich and smooth, and not too sweet.



And the tiramisu had the right balance of coffee and cream. My friend L. from Germany agreed it was very good, but reckoned it could've had a bit more sponge in it.



I don't have any good photos of the rum balls, but they are simply amazing! Chocolate-y, rich, smooth. My friend L. bought about 9 to take with her to give to friends.

Also, the place does wonderful pastries (and quiche!) as well. I've only tried a few of them with my friend L., who left on the train the other day. When she was in town, we were at Patisserie Opera every day...



I'm really glad I waited 3 weeks before entering the patisserie, because I'd have put on a lot more weight during my first month in Guwahati! This is where I'm going to when I feel homesick (and not KFC across the street). Ironically, I don't think I'll be able to get cake as good as this when I move to Canberra next year.

Patisserie Operaa is located on GS Road, opposite the KFC in Lachit Nagar. The patisserie is open 7 days a week from 10.30am to 10.30pm.

Assam Conflict: Not Against Muslims

Just saw this making the rounds on Facebook.

As I mentioned in my last post, the current conflict between Bodos and Bengalis isn't about religion, but it's being perceived by Muslims in other parts of the country as that. (Note that I'm not a supporter of xenophobia or the discourse that's currently surrounding Bengalis, but I do understand the anxieties people in this state have and continue to have about immigrants, and that little is being done by the government to manage those anxieties.) 

Dilai Gate Sunday Market out of Dimapur

I'm meant to be going down to Dimapur at some point today, if my ride from Zunheboto actually comes to pick me up from Kohima. (We're meant to be picking up some people in Dimapur before heading back to Zunheboto tomorrow.) Anyway, to mark my potential arrival in Dimapur on a Sunday, I thought I'd share some pictures that I took 2 weeks ago when I was in Dimapur. (It's pretty photo-heavy, so apologies to people with a slow internet connection.)

The friend I was staying with in Dimapur brought me to the Sunday market just outside Dilai Gate on the road to Diphu, which technically means it's in Assam, not Nagaland. There's a sign that says 'A K Market' but most of my friends (even the ones in Kohima) know it as the Dilai Gate Market.



It's pretty much strewn next to the side of the road, which happens to be a national highway...


At the market, you can find your usual vegetables.


Gourds.


Local varieties of ginger and garlic.


And little chillis - these are more like bird's eye chillis, they aren't bhut jolokia / Naga King chillis.


Lots of spices


And other dried stuff. I noticed a lot of dried fish especially.




People were frying up sweets and selling them, alongside different kinds of bhujia.


They also had baskets for sale.


There was a somewhat carnival atmosphere, with one man selling balloons.


And another one selling cotton candy. (Note the massive truck on the right - did I mention this was on a national highway?)


Some ladies were making pithas (made from rice flour and coconut) as well. Maybe someone can tell me the name for this type of pitha.


Then of course, there were the more exotic 'meats'. My friend reckons these are silk worms, but they look slightly different to the ones I ate when I was in Diphu.


There were beecombs, filled with tasty grubs (I imagine).


And some jungle spiders - I have tried spider before, when I was in Zunheboto last year, but I don't know if they were the same variety as these. There were also grasshoppers, but I can't seem to find photos of those...


The less exotic meats were much more popular. There was fresh fish from the many rivers and lakes of Assam.


There were live chickens for sale.


As well as dead ones.


Almost all the butchery was done on site. I saw a few goats having their throats slit.


We had goat curry for lunch that day.


The most popular meat was (surprise, surprise) pork. Here, unlike with the chickens and goats, there were mini-barricades set up to keep customers out of the pig butchering area. I was told that the reason for this was that previously, people would rush in and grab the choicest parts so the barricades were set up to keep pushy (we'd say kiasu in Singapore) customers out.


So there you have it. A typical Sunday morning in Dimapur.

Except, well, without going to church...