Ahuna significance

Given that I came to Zunheboto for the festival, I suppose I should first explain what the Ahuna festival is about (and drop the use of italics as well). My friend Zh., whose house I'm staying at, kindly gifted me a copy of his book on the Ahuna Festival - the Sumi Ahuna, which was published in 2009 and outlines the principal beliefs and practices around the Ahuna festival, and more generally, the traditional Sumi agricultural year.

The word ahuna can refer to a few things in Sumi. It can refer to: the festival itself; the Sumi equivalent of the month of November; and the newly harvested rice specially cooked in bamboo for the festival. Without going too much into etymology, the word can be analysed as a compound of ahu, which most people say refers to the bamboo vessel in which the rice is cooked and na, the noun root for 'cooked rice' in Sumi (Assumi 2009:12-13). The Ahuna festival is traditionally a post-harvest festival to give thanks for the current year's harvest and to pray for a good harvest the following year. The festival used to be celebrated after all the crops had been collected and stored in the granary over the course of at least three days, but now it is a largely symbolic occasion that has been officially scheduled to fall on the 14th of November by the State Government. While always an important festival, it is currently being marketed as the Sumis' 'main festival' of the year - in past years, it is my understanding that until fairly recently, this honour went to Tuluni, the pre-harvest festival held in July.

The cynic in me can't help but feel that the move was done primarily for reasons of marketability. The Nagaland State Government is trying to market the state as the 'Land of Festivals' (the annual Hornbill festival in Kohima is coming up in the first week of December, while the Chakhesangs just celebrated their 'fish' festival the other day). While both Ahuna and Tuluni are important Sumi festivals, I think Ahuna has been given more attention because of its proximity to the Hornbill Festival, making it more enticing for tourists to come a bit earlier and also because the town of Zunheboto is more accessible at this time of year than during the potentially wet month of July.

I'm really not sure what the 'Road Show' actually referred to - there were no vehicles on display, nor was the festival actually on the move.

Whatever the reason for the shift in attention, the cynic in me is scoffing at the fact that the main reason I'd come to Nagaland so early (more than two weeks before the Hornbill Festival) was for the Ahuna festival. It has given me more time to meet with members of the community who are interested in doing research on their language and cultural traditions.

Miss Sumi 2010

After 4 days of waking up early to spend 5-6 hours on the road and in the sky, I finally arrived in Zunheboto, Nagaland around 1.30pm on the 13th of November with a small dent in my head - life is tough when you can fall asleep in any moving vehicle, including a crowded sumo travelling on a winding and bumpy road. (A sumo is a term commonly used across the NE for a 4WD used to ferry people from town to town.) Despite my best efforts, I could not remain awake long enough to prevent my skull from knocking against the window. This is in stark contrast to my first time travelling down this road last February when I was absolutely terrified of everything, from the local police to the local militant factions.

After being treated to some tea and and ahuna, the name given to rice cooked in bamboo during the Sumi month of Ahuna, when the post-harvest festival Ahuna is celebrated - my principal reason for coming to Zunheboto at this time of year - I was asked if I wanted to attend the Miss Sumi 2010 beauty pageant later that afternoon. Having seen videos of a Miss Nagaland beauty pageant at the anthropological museum in Zurich back in December 2008, I was keen to attend despite my fatigue.

After squeezing through the Zunheboto town hall doors with our tickets, my hosts and I had to sit through a number of speeches thanking the numerous donors and 'sponsorers' (sic) before the actual pageant began.

It was pretty normal as pageants come. There was the ethnic costume round, the 'casual' round where the girls presumably chose their own 'modern' outfits, and the 'designer' round where they got to model outfits made by a local designer. The girls also had to introduce themselves and answers a few questions: two in English and one in Sumi.

My favourite for the evening was contestant 10, because she - wait for it - had recently completed an MA in Linguistics.

Much of the commentary seemed to focus on 'women's empowerment' and using this as a platform for that. However, as with most beauty pageants that claim to do so, I couldn't help but notice the large number of males in the audience oggling and catcalling at the participants, especially when they were in 'ethnic cosutme'.

The other thing I found slightly disturbing - the organisers clearly have never seen Little Miss Sunshine - was a performance by little girls from the local Montesorri school, dancing to the song "Shut Up and Bounce" from the Bollywood film Dostana.





I'm really sure if people quite understood the not-so-subtle subtext to that song:
"I feel it... I need it... Baby we can do it all night".

Add that to the little cosutmes the girls were in, and I can't imagine how parents in the West (except maybe in America) would ever approve of such a performance. But it clearly didn't seem to phaze the audience here, and even when I show the video to people here, everyone seems to think it's just a very cute performance.

I was really grateful to be able to attend the event, especially given that tickets cost 500 Rs to admit two. There were some complaints about the sound operators this year, especially when they stuffed up the actual Ahuna festival sound the following two days. But who would've thought, I actually got to attend a beauty pageant in Nagaland.

And of course, the winners for the evening (with Miss Sumi 2010 right in the middle)

Gash in the bag

After singing praises of Delhi's new domestic terminal, I caught my Jet Airways (actually Jet Konnect) flight to Guwahati, made my way to my hotel and as I was about to check in, I noticed a small gash in the cloth bit at the top of my bag. Strange, I thought, but then again it might have just torn a little bit in transit.

I decided to open it up to see if anything had fallen out, but suddenly found my old combination didn't work anymore. I tried not to get frantic as I was right in the middle of checking into my room. Also, the bag still felt as heavy as when I left it, and there wasn't anything inside that I would be too upset over losing.

Still, it's one of the worst things to to discover, especially when you're travelling alone, you've just arrived in a new city (albeit one you've been to before), your mobile phone has stopped working (the sim I bought in Delhi doesn't work in the North-East), and it's already late in the afternoon and you're meant to leave early the next morning.

At one point the guy at reception gave me a list of airline phone numbers and I found myself dialling both the Jet Airways airport and city offices, but getting no response.

After putting my bags in the room, the hotel manager suggested I go to the Jet Airways office in the city, with the bag. So off I went in an auto (they're the same as Thai tuk-tuks), and got to the office with about half an hour before closing time. The lady at the desk told me that because I had already left the airport, there was very little they could do. I said all I needed was a form or something to give to my insurance company, but there were rules. Still, she put me through to someone who worked at the airport office who told me he'd do what he could and ring me at the hotel in half an hour.

So it was back to the hotel with the bag. No call, as I expected. But I figured I needed to open my old suitcase and get a new bag. The hotel bellboy brought me to a nearby bag shop where he explained the situation to the shopkeeper who proceeded to use a knife to pry the lock open. At the same time, I found a new bag (a very big duffel) which I was offered 550 Rs for, so I just slumped to the floor and looked like I was about to cry, and he gave it to me for 450 - still a bit steep I thought, but there was only so far I was willing to go with the pathetic act.

As for Jet Airways, I finally got on to them from a nearby PCO (phone). The guy at the airport said he could send me some form but that I was no longer eligible for compensation, given that I had left the airport and that there were 'rules'. I said that was fine, because I just needed something for my insurance company and that there wasn't a police station nearby where I could report this - I'm not really sure what I'll need, but something's better than nothing. Technically, nothing was stolen, but the bag has been damaged.

So now I need to call the guy at Jet Airways again, once I have a local mailing address for him. Not sure if he'll send the form, but it's worth a shot. I am half tempted to use the same suitcase I've lugged it with me to Nagaland with the duffel inside - on my next flight back.

New territory new SIM

People in NE India often refer to the rest of India as the 'mainland'. It didn't take long for the feeling that I was is in different country to sink in, especially when I landed at Guwahati Airport to find that my recently purchased Airtel sim card from Delhi no longer worked. Clearly, reports that sim cards from elsewhere in India worked in Assam had been greatly exaggerated.

Of course, the last time I was here, I bought two sim cards - one from Kerala and one from Shillong in Meghalaya. Both didn't work in Assam. On the other hand, the one from Shillong worked fine here in Nagaland and so I assumed it was just an Assam thing.

Wrong again. The Airtel sim card I got from Delhi is no good throughout the NE, Nagaland included, which meant I had to buy a new sim card (which only works in the NE). The lady at the Airtel office close to my hotel informed me I needed a copy of my passport, identity card, proof of residence (she assumed I was an Indian citizen) and 4 passport photos. Of course, all I had at hand was a copy of my passport, visa and 3 passport photos - most places make an exception for foreigners regarding the proof of residence, but they don't get many foreigners passing through here.

So what to do? Somehow, by surprising her by the fact that I had travelled here alone, that I was here for a whole month, that I was here for the Hornbill Festival, and that I had Sema and Angami friends, and that I knew some Sema / Sumi (one of her colleagues was from the main Sema town Zunheboto) the woman at the office let me have a sim card that had already been activated under someone's name! No need for all that paperwork, just a brand new sim and as much credit as I was willing to pay.

And now I have a working phone again.

Assamese violence

The BBC report on yesterday's attacks in Assam states they were conducted by a faction of the National Democratic Front of Bodoland (NDFB) who are trying to derail peace talks between the moderate NDFB faction and the Indian government.

The article opens by saying that:

Police told the BBC that a group of heavily armed guerrillas waylaid the bus and opened fire indiscriminately.

However, in an article in the Nagaland Post, it was reported that:

They [the guerillas] lined up the passengers and took away the Hindi-speaking people to the forest and shot them. “The NDFB fired at the bus, forcing the driver to stop, after which the militants lined up all the passengers on the road and took away at least 10 of them at gunpoint,” a senior police official said..

The report then reiterates that:

"All the dead were Hindi-speaking people hailing from Bihar and were Arunachal Pradesh government employees," Assam police chief Shankar Baruah told IANS.

The Nagaland Post's report actual makes more sense, given that the BBC also claims that:

Police say the rebels appear to be on a "revenge killing spree" after last week threatening to kill "at least 20 Indians" to avenge the death of their commander, Mohan Basumatary, in a clash last month.

If these were revenge attacks, and the militants had specific targets in mind, the initial report of indiscriminate shooting in the BBC article certainly needs some clarification.

I won't be travelling through Bodo regions. However, I will be going to Karbi Anglong, where a friend lives, and they have similar organisations / factions within organisation with similar goals of independence. Guwahati, where I am heading today, has also seen its fair share of violence over the past few years.

But I think the situation is slightly better in the metropolitan areas (compared to places like Mumbai) and I'll be with people who know the area too.

Connecting to the internet in South Asia

About a week ago in Nepal, I realised that I couldn't view Lauren's blog, except via an RSS reader. The reason was that Blogger had been blocked by the Nepalese government, or at least some sites with 'blogspot' in their URLs had come up on their new list of banned 'p0rn' sites, leading to a blanket ban on all our blogs with that domain name.

Weird and Funny World, a Nepal-based blog I've been following provided some coverage of this. Earlier there was also a suggestion that cybercafes in Nepal check their clients' ID in a bid to control 'cyber crime'.

India already does this sort of the control, though probably not on the same scale as China. At the cybercafes I've been to here, I'd had to present my passport (which some places photocopy) just so I can get online for 30 minutes. I am reminded of this level of control, because just to access the free wi-fi here at Delhi's new Indira Gandhi Airport domestic terminal, I had to log in with my new Airtel mobile number and then make a request to have another separate username and password via SMS (I remember a similar process at Bangalore airport last year) before finally being able to connect. Airtel also has a copy of my passport, visa and my photo, which you need to submit just to get a sim card.

Given that phones have been used in terrorist attacks to detonate bombs I suppose it's not an uncommon occurrence in most countries these days. You need some sort of ID to buy a prepaid mobile sim card in Singapore and Australia. I'm also sure there's some kind of registration to use Changi Airport's free wifi, though I suspect not quite as convoluted as the Indian system. I think I'm just too used to being able to connect to close to a dozen wi-fi networks in Kathmandu's Thamel district with just a network key.

Hmmm, my flight to Guwahati's been delayed by 40 minutes. More time on the internet for me.

Welcome to Delhi

My arrival at the new Delhi International Airport started out well enough. The new terminal is much better than the current Kolkata Airport which I flew in and out of last year. The only thing that bugged me was that it took forever to get from the gate to the immigration counter, and yet we still had to wait about 20 minutes for our baggage - I calculated about 45 minutes from the time of the plane's arrival.

I had arranged an airport pick-up with my hotel (Rak International Hotel) - an exorbitant 600 Rs, considering it only takes about 250-300 Rs to get from the airport to the Paharganj, but I didn't really want the hassle of haggling with a taxi driver and having to pay additional tips and what not. Thankfully, my pick-up was there when I arrived, given that the plane was about an hour late in leaving Kathmandu. The driver seemed friendly enough and we chatted a little in my broken Hindi / Nepali (he understood ali ali) and English.

The first sign something was wrong was when I first saw the car. It looked ordinarily enough, apart from all the dents in the doors, the back and the front (basically everywhere). It was particularly obvious, given that all the surrounding SUVs looked brand new and spotless. But I still put my stuff in the back and got in.

The driver then pokes his head in the window and tells me I need to get out. To help him push he car. It seemed the car battery had been giving him some grief today and the car needed a push start. Eventually, he managed to get the security guard to help us as well, and we got the car all the way to the downward ramp, which gave the car the boost it needed.

As if that wasn't bad enough, I asked the driver if the battery would be a problem later. He unhesitatingly said, 'Yes'.

We were in the far right lane of a busy road in heavy traffic when the battery died again. Out we got to push the car to the side of the road. Never mind the big buses and trucks trying to run us down. A police officer directed us to a small turn-off and there we stopped the car. My driver did what he could to restart the battery but eventually decided to call for a taxi from the airport to pick me up.

We waited by the side of the road for another 20 minutes. In that time, my driver's mobile phone battery died too (I was sensing a pattern) and I told him my Nepali sim card didn't work in India. But the taxi came, and I got in, after being assured that the hotel would pay for the taxi.

As I got in, the driver reassuringly said that his taxi would run out of petrol in about 10 or 15 minutes. Great, I thought. But at least we stopped for petrol at a petrol kiosk, not on the side of the road. And at least he didn't ask for more money.

But when we got to Paharganj, he stopped the taxi about 10 minutes from the hotel (I had a pretty good idea where I was thanks to my GPS), and insisted that we couldn't drive any further and he'd have to take me on foot. It was a little suspicious. He then asked me for 'driver tips' and I pretended not to understand. I was little annoyed because I couldn't get any further without giving the guy some cash. I said 50 rupees, but he insisted on 100, and since I didn't have change and wasn't sure where the hotel was exactly, I relented.

So off we went down the main Bazaar Road in Paharganj where he deposited me at then Rak International Hotel, where I proceeded to check in, after complaining about the drive in (especially the having to push the stupid car). I had previously mentioned in my email to them that I wanted a regular room for 450 Rs/night, but was willing to look at the deluxe (750 Rs/night). (I had sent a few emails, but only got a reply after mentioning that I was willing to look at the deluxe.) Surprise surprise, they had me down for a deluxe, and no regular rooms were available.

I then mentioned the ride again and told the guy in English, with a few smatterings of Hindi, that he needed to lower the price. I wasn't paying 600 Rs, especially after the car broke down and I had to push it twice. He said he'd talk to the driver and we'd settle it later. (I then heard him on the phone yelling at someone about a gaDii 'car' that was kharab 'bad'.

When I next came down, the guy at reception said there was no way he could lower the price. After all, my driver had got me to the hotel. Of course, from my point of view, I'd paid the exorbitant 600 Rs (instead of 250 or 300 Rs) for a comfortable and reliable service - not something that required me to get out of a car and push. I also mentioned the fact that I had to pay the driver a 100 Rs tip, which the reception guy said I shouldn't have paid. Well duh, but how else was I going to reach the hotel?

In the end, we bargained it down to 500 Rs. I've got a deluxe room which looks like a cheap honeymoon suite (the bed is circular! - will need to post a picture at some point). I've also got an airport drop-off tomorrow for a more reasonable 250 Rs, but goodness knows if that car won't break down too.

Yup, welcome back to India.