One of the distinctive features of the Sumi language is its uvular stop series - a voiceless unaspirated uvular stop /q/ and a voiced aspirated uvular stop /qh/, which are produced by making a closure in the oral cavity (mouth) using the back of the tongue and the uvula (right at the back of the mouth). Having studied and taught phonetics, I am familiar with the mechanism of producing such stops, though mine are certainly not identical to those produced by native speakers.
Importantly, these uvular stops contrast with the velar stops /k/ and /kh/, meaning that there is a difference in meaning between words like akhi 'bee' and aqhi 'moon'.
I'm still having a lot of trouble asking in Sumi for the meaning of something - one of the most useful questions when you're studying a foreign language. Though there a few ways to do it, most forms go something like this:
Hi ye kiu kiqi kea?
I'd post an audio recording of how I say it, and how it should be said if I could.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Misty Zunheboto
The name Zunheboto, the name of both the town and district where most Sumis live in Nagaland, is derived from the nouns zünhebo ('ü' represents a high central unrounded vowel, and 'nh' a breathy alveolar nasal), which refers to a kind of flowering plant found in the area, and to, which refers to a 'hill' or 'ridge'.
Like most settlements in Nagaland, Zunheboto is located on top of a long ridge (people here tell me it's not a big town, just a 'long' one). Historically, these provided more security in the event of enemy raids, when tribal warfare was still practised for the purpose of taking land or taking heads, or both.



Zunheboto is pretty high in terms of elevation, and around this time of year it tends to get pretty cold (and windy) compared to other places in Nagaland. I'm told also that on a clear day, Mount Everest is visible from some parts of Zunheboto. I remain slightly skeptical because so far people have pointed in a direction that's been either too much to the southwest or northeast.
Of course, clear days here at this time of year are rare. My first few days here, I'd wake up most mornings to find a thick mist blanketing the valley below my lodge.


During the Ahuna festival, it would clear by afternoon, but since I moved to Zh.'s place, it just seems to get misty at all times of the day. The past two days, we've also had some pretty heavy showers at night and in the afternoon.
Well, here's to hoping for clearer skies (and fewer landslides)!
Like most settlements in Nagaland, Zunheboto is located on top of a long ridge (people here tell me it's not a big town, just a 'long' one). Historically, these provided more security in the event of enemy raids, when tribal warfare was still practised for the purpose of taking land or taking heads, or both.
Zunheboto is pretty high in terms of elevation, and around this time of year it tends to get pretty cold (and windy) compared to other places in Nagaland. I'm told also that on a clear day, Mount Everest is visible from some parts of Zunheboto. I remain slightly skeptical because so far people have pointed in a direction that's been either too much to the southwest or northeast.
Of course, clear days here at this time of year are rare. My first few days here, I'd wake up most mornings to find a thick mist blanketing the valley below my lodge.
During the Ahuna festival, it would clear by afternoon, but since I moved to Zh.'s place, it just seems to get misty at all times of the day. The past two days, we've also had some pretty heavy showers at night and in the afternoon.
Well, here's to hoping for clearer skies (and fewer landslides)!
Ahuna Festival (III)
On the second day of the Ahuna Festival cum Road Show (or 'Road Show cum Ahuna'), it was back to the festival ground in the morning. This was actually the officially set date for the festival every year and there seemed to be more guests of honour than the previous day. I vividly recall hearing sirens coming from behind, signalling the arrival of the guest of honour, the Nagaland Minister for School Education Nyeiwang Konyak, who, as his name suggests, is Konyak, not Sumi.
Just when the day looked set for more school performances of war dances and speeches about how the young people need to contribute more to the state, the local sport council, which my friend Zh. is an active member of, put up a performance showing how some of the older sporting / warring traditions would be passed down to younger members of the community.
Older warriors teaching the younger ones how to perform a war dance, which is meant to frighten the enemy. (In truth it was very cute to watch the little boys perform.)

Another war dance

Warriors slicing up pieces of bamboo, which looks easy, but requires a lot of skill with a dao (a kind of knife). I also enjoyed watching the way they leapt after a successful chop. Reminded me a little of Ryu or Ken from the Streetfighter video games.
The traditional head gear of a rich and respected warrior - the headband itself is made from bear fur (taken from the neck of the bear I'm told). Wealthy and respected warriors also had the three hornbill feathers - and unlike most of the ones I saw that were made of cardboard, these ones here are real!

Later in the morning, a couple of traditional games were played. though not as many as in previous years, as I learnt from a DVD about the Ahuna Festival, also kindly gifted to me by Zh. The first game I saw is known as asü ilheche 'high jump'. In this competition, a bit of banana leaf is tied to the top of a spear. The objective is to jump up high enough to kick the banana leaf with both feet at the same time, which I thought was quite impressive.
Competitors awaiting their turn

The second game involved women competing by ululating, which is meant to be a form of encouragement for the male warriors, though it did draw a bit of laughter from the crowd (and the competitors themselves). I'm not quite sure how the judging was carried out though...
Me with Zh., his wife and his cousin

Me with some of the festival organisers.
Just when the day looked set for more school performances of war dances and speeches about how the young people need to contribute more to the state, the local sport council, which my friend Zh. is an active member of, put up a performance showing how some of the older sporting / warring traditions would be passed down to younger members of the community.
Older warriors teaching the younger ones how to perform a war dance, which is meant to frighten the enemy. (In truth it was very cute to watch the little boys perform.)
Another war dance
Warriors slicing up pieces of bamboo, which looks easy, but requires a lot of skill with a dao (a kind of knife). I also enjoyed watching the way they leapt after a successful chop. Reminded me a little of Ryu or Ken from the Streetfighter video games.
The traditional head gear of a rich and respected warrior - the headband itself is made from bear fur (taken from the neck of the bear I'm told). Wealthy and respected warriors also had the three hornbill feathers - and unlike most of the ones I saw that were made of cardboard, these ones here are real!
Later in the morning, a couple of traditional games were played. though not as many as in previous years, as I learnt from a DVD about the Ahuna Festival, also kindly gifted to me by Zh. The first game I saw is known as asü ilheche 'high jump'. In this competition, a bit of banana leaf is tied to the top of a spear. The objective is to jump up high enough to kick the banana leaf with both feet at the same time, which I thought was quite impressive.
Competitors awaiting their turn
The second game involved women competing by ululating, which is meant to be a form of encouragement for the male warriors, though it did draw a bit of laughter from the crowd (and the competitors themselves). I'm not quite sure how the judging was carried out though...
Me with Zh., his wife and his cousin
Me with some of the festival organisers.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Hornets for lunch?
As we sitting at one the stalls at the Ahuna festival drinking milk tea and snacking on beef liver and intestines (they do them so well here), I.'s cousin A. asked me if I'd ever tried 'hornets' or 'hornets larvae', I quickly said no. Within seconds, he'd gone up to a lady selling food wrapped in large leaves (the leaves are called aküghü in Sumi) and bought two. When he came back he told me, 'They were out of hornets, this is just fish.'
I wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Did I just dodge a bullet, or was he pulling my leg? Not that I would mind trying hornets, I just thought an entire package of them would be a little too much. In any case, he said I didn't have to eat whatever was in the package there and then. So I said I'd wait (till I was somewhere more private).
When I got back to the Heritage tourist lodge (there was a break between the morning and evening programmes), I placed the package on the bed since I had no table inside, and - rather like a leopard - I didn't quite feel like eating in public.
I opened the package to find a small mound of rice, as is the fashion here, with a few pieces of pork fat, and another smaller leaf package.
And lo and behold, there were fish in the small package! They were small, and surprisingly easy to eat, the bones being small and soft. However, I still think some of my friends would be a little grossed out by the way the little fishies were staring at me as I ate them.
So those hornets for lunch will have to wait another day.
I wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Did I just dodge a bullet, or was he pulling my leg? Not that I would mind trying hornets, I just thought an entire package of them would be a little too much. In any case, he said I didn't have to eat whatever was in the package there and then. So I said I'd wait (till I was somewhere more private).
When I got back to the Heritage tourist lodge (there was a break between the morning and evening programmes), I placed the package on the bed since I had no table inside, and - rather like a leopard - I didn't quite feel like eating in public.
I opened the package to find a small mound of rice, as is the fashion here, with a few pieces of pork fat, and another smaller leaf package.
And lo and behold, there were fish in the small package! They were small, and surprisingly easy to eat, the bones being small and soft. However, I still think some of my friends would be a little grossed out by the way the little fishies were staring at me as I ate them.
So those hornets for lunch will have to wait another day.
Ahuna Festival (II)
In the evening on the first day, it was back to the festival ground for a rather spectacular sunset and the second part of the programme - more songs and dances performed by schools, along with a singing competition and battle of the bands.

Again, I was slightly mortified (though not as much as during the Miss Sumi pageant) to see those same little girls from the Montessori school dancing to Shakira's 'Waka Waka'.
Most importantly, my friend Zh. (whose home I'm staying at this time) and his wife H.'s students were putting up a fashion show featuring Sumi outfits across time. This meant that I had a reason to hang out backstage and getting right to the front of the stage to help Zh. take photos - though I don't think my fashion photography skills are quite up to scratch.
Some of the students trying to keep warm backstage

A Flintstones take on ancient Sumi wear

The headhunter look - I'm currently sleeping in the bedroom where this head prop is being kept. It hasn't really creeped me out so far.

One of the most traditional Sumi costumes for men and women - note the pipe in the woman's mouth

Ignore the boxer shorts here.

A much more modern take on fashion here. (My first time here, I was surprised at how fashionably dressed young people were here) These outfits though aren't exactly casual wear.


This girl, who's apparently only 14 or 15, also worn the solo singing competition that night. She had a great voice.
Again, I was slightly mortified (though not as much as during the Miss Sumi pageant) to see those same little girls from the Montessori school dancing to Shakira's 'Waka Waka'.
Most importantly, my friend Zh. (whose home I'm staying at this time) and his wife H.'s students were putting up a fashion show featuring Sumi outfits across time. This meant that I had a reason to hang out backstage and getting right to the front of the stage to help Zh. take photos - though I don't think my fashion photography skills are quite up to scratch.
Some of the students trying to keep warm backstage
A Flintstones take on ancient Sumi wear
The headhunter look - I'm currently sleeping in the bedroom where this head prop is being kept. It hasn't really creeped me out so far.
One of the most traditional Sumi costumes for men and women - note the pipe in the woman's mouth
Ignore the boxer shorts here.
A much more modern take on fashion here. (My first time here, I was surprised at how fashionably dressed young people were here) These outfits though aren't exactly casual wear.
This girl, who's apparently only 14 or 15, also worn the solo singing competition that night. She had a great voice.
Ahuna Festival (I)
On the first day of the 'official' Ahuna festival celebration I arrived at the festival / football ground in the late morning and quickly ran into my new friend I. who I'd met on the sumo ride from Kohima. He said that even though he was Sumi, this was his first time in Zunheboto and his first time attending the Ahuna celebrations here too. He works as a designer / advisor for the State Government, selecting and working with traditional designs. His work is based in Kohima, although he gets sent to other offices in the state.
I. with his cousin Ab. Behind them, the sign for 'Special Handloom Expo 2010' behind was some of I.'s work, using traditional Sumi designs (red lines on black are very popular on Sumi shawls).

We wandered around the grounds and watched a few performances, mostly done by students from local schools. There were a few traditional war dances, a mass dance (like the ones I used to have to do in school in Singapore) and a showcase of Sümi kiti do (or Naga kiti do), a kind of martial art based on traditional Sumi kick-fighting and developed as an 'indigenous martial art form' - the word do refers to 'way' or 'path', as in other martial arts like taekwando and akido.


Performers waiting their turn

The mass dance

Breaking boards
Self-defence, Sümi kithi do style
And just as I. was suggesting I take a photo with some boys who were dressed up in traditional warrior outfits, I happened to run into Hk., whose house I stayed at the last time I was in Zunheboto. The boys in warrior outfits were his students, and he kindly obliged a picture with me.

I almost feel like a foreign correspondant in this photo...

Hk.'s boys performing a war dance.
I. with his cousin Ab. Behind them, the sign for 'Special Handloom Expo 2010' behind was some of I.'s work, using traditional Sumi designs (red lines on black are very popular on Sumi shawls).
We wandered around the grounds and watched a few performances, mostly done by students from local schools. There were a few traditional war dances, a mass dance (like the ones I used to have to do in school in Singapore) and a showcase of Sümi kiti do (or Naga kiti do), a kind of martial art based on traditional Sumi kick-fighting and developed as an 'indigenous martial art form' - the word do refers to 'way' or 'path', as in other martial arts like taekwando and akido.
Performers waiting their turn
The mass dance
Breaking boards
Self-defence, Sümi kithi do style
And just as I. was suggesting I take a photo with some boys who were dressed up in traditional warrior outfits, I happened to run into Hk., whose house I stayed at the last time I was in Zunheboto. The boys in warrior outfits were his students, and he kindly obliged a picture with me.
I almost feel like a foreign correspondant in this photo...
Hk.'s boys performing a war dance.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Out of Time (II)
Only this morning did I realise that my computer was still following Nepal time, which is 15 minutes ahead of India (Delhi) time. Incidentally, I'd be synchronising the time on my phones to my computer time, since it's often the case that when I switch on my phones, I don't have reception and can't synchronise with the local network. (Yes, I've got two phones in case the battery on one dies and there's no power around.)
That means for the past week and a bit, I've been living 15 minutes ahead of everyone, which would explain why I've felt like I've been waiting around for everyone!
On a more serious note, Nagaland, despite being further east than Nepal and Bangladesh, still follows Delhi time, which is 15 minutes behind Nepal and half an hour behind Bangladesh. That means, if I went due west (well west by southwest) from here, I'd be in a timezone that was half an hour ahead of where I currently am!
Also, if I went due east for just a few hundred kilometres into Burma, I'd be one hour ahead. But if I went due north into China, I'd be two and a half hours ahead of where I am.
The larger problem here is that a lot of daylight is wasted because schools only start at 8am Delhi time, while the sun rises around 4.30 / 5am and sets around 4.30 / 5pm. The shops in town all close around 3pm, which is also around the time that teachers finish work. So how on earth can they get their shopping done?
That means for the past week and a bit, I've been living 15 minutes ahead of everyone, which would explain why I've felt like I've been waiting around for everyone!
On a more serious note, Nagaland, despite being further east than Nepal and Bangladesh, still follows Delhi time, which is 15 minutes behind Nepal and half an hour behind Bangladesh. That means, if I went due west (well west by southwest) from here, I'd be in a timezone that was half an hour ahead of where I currently am!
Also, if I went due east for just a few hundred kilometres into Burma, I'd be one hour ahead. But if I went due north into China, I'd be two and a half hours ahead of where I am.
The larger problem here is that a lot of daylight is wasted because schools only start at 8am Delhi time, while the sun rises around 4.30 / 5am and sets around 4.30 / 5pm. The shops in town all close around 3pm, which is also around the time that teachers finish work. So how on earth can they get their shopping done?
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