The town of Jiribam is the entry point to Manipur on the road from Silchar. The prospect of entering Manipur makes us feel both excited and a bit nervous. The state was long closed to foreigners until the beginning of 2011. This is for example what Thant Myint-U writes in his excellent book "Where China Meets India" published in 2011 and that we are carrying with us:
Both Imphal and Manipur have a bad reputation. A 'Protected Areas Permit', not easy to get, is required for any foreigner to visit, and few bother because of the area's history of violence and instability. (...) Foreigners [are] not allowed anywhere in Manipur other than Imphal itself. (p294)
On the road, random people have been warning us about "bad people", "problems" or "danger" in the area. So we are worried that the border may have been closed down again. The bridge leading to the check post is occupied by an Indian paramilitary troop, wielding machine guns in an impressive display of force. However, the check post is a formality: we explain our itinerary to friendly officials and the authorisation stamp is printed in our passeports. Well done!
Imphal is still 213 km away. We have prepared ourselves mentally for the worst. Dirt roads were already very challenging in flat Assam so we expect hell in the mountains: long climbs with trucks blinding us in dusts of clouds. But we get lucky, very lucky. Outside Jiribam hundreds of trucks are lined up along the road. Truckers from all around India are waiting lazily for a mysterious reason. English is in short supply but we understand talks about waiting another four days for a military escort. For us it means keeping the road for ourselves, maybe even to Imphal. This is priceless!
The situation is rather strange. People enter the room without warning as in a shop. Sometimes it's villagers, sometimes militaries, the latter looking thoroughly at the luggages we have spread around. Around tea a witty old man explains to us why he supports the independence movement for an enlarged Nagaland ("It's my birth right!"). We fall deeply asleep despite the noise of New Year's eve rehearsals in the next-door Church.
In the morning, we are invited for coffee by well-bred Indian officers from the army camp next door. They are leading the escort to a convoy of military supplies going to Imphal. This is the reason why we saw all the commercial trucks blocked in the valley: they will only be allowed to leave when the convoy has safely reached its destination. The road to Imphal will only be for us and the militaries!
After a long descent to Barak we engage in another 20 km climb. The road is now a big dirt track with long sections of stones hidden in deep sand. The worst road conditions so far. Our bikes are complaining with heartbreaking creaking sounds. It's the 31st of December and several bystanders (including militaries off duty) are already severely drunk.
At the end of the day, we reach a village - Khongsang - that seems under siege. Indian militaries - contrasting with their moustaches and darker complexion - are standing nervously at the main crossroad guns in hands. We decide to pass on the option of sleeping at the army compound (the choice of other Indian travellers in town). Instead, we engage with the locals and the chairman of the Naga community provides us with accomodation, a delicious meal, and front seats for the end-of-year celebrations.
The atmosphere is joyful, but it's not exactly a wild party. Religious speaches alternate with songs and plays. On stage most of the elders are already asleep while in the audience adolescent boys and girls are separated carefully. A banner oddly advertises the 59th such celebration since the Christian Baptist faith overtook animism. The crowd wakes up when we take the stage: FX makes a small speech explaining the purpose of our visit and Pierre closes with an inspired French love song at the guitar.
The first day of 2013 starts with 40 km of pleasant downhill to Noney (the only town that Google Maps shows between Jiribam and Imphal). The truck-free traffic and the celebration music aired in all the sleepy villages we go through make for a peaceful atmosphere. At Noney, the valley opens up and we are tricked into thinking that the rest of the ride will be easy. Instead, a last 30 km climb awaits us, including a second puncture for the day on Pierre's bike. The legs are tired and we stop in a small village 9 km before the top pass.
The 150 inhabitants of the village belong to the Kuki group, another smaller Christian minority with its distinctive language and traditions. We are kindly taken care of by the son of the chairman, Lin, a cheerful young guy who studied at the university of Imphal. Lin gives us interesting clues on how things work. For example, the village chairman is not a wise guy elected by members of the community standing on equal terms. Instead, it's simply the owner of the land for who all the other guys in the village are working. Hence more the picture of a feudal setting.
He also gives us interesting insights on the main underground mouvements: the ten thousand Naga rebels armed by and trained in China versus the three thousand Kuki rebels trained in Burma. The situation is complex: the Kuki villagers are happy that the army is protecting them from extortion, which is the main business model for the rebels (taking foreign hostages has become rare luckily). But they are also happy that the Kuki rebels are protecting their interests against the more numerous Nagas and their plans for an enlarged Nagaland. Bluring the picture further, the dominant ethny from the plains, the Meitheis, have their own underground movements and each of these groups is splintered in multiple subgroups.
Christmas and New Year are mutiple day events in those regions. So we are invited to our second new year celebration. The setting is much smaller and quite cosy, everybody sitting on thick layers of dried banana leaves. This time we are requested to perform some dances on top of the speech-making and singing. An uncomfortable moment for us, but apparently a lot of fun for them.
It is our fourth day in Manipur when we eventually reach the pass overlooking the central valley of Manipur and its capital city, Imphal. As always, people are surprised to see us. But some are now even trying to give us money. We must look in pretty bad shape.
Imphal itself appears to us as a rather dusty and greyish place with a busy traffic. It's seems under-developed for a state capital, at least judging by the very modest dimensions of the new "Vishal Mega Market", self-proclaimed "the biggest in Manipur". It's also a bit of a shock to see the large armoured vehicules pop up in the traffic. Especially when the dark-skinned soldier holding the machine gun on the roof looks so different from everybody else in the street.
And it does not help when you read that "as in Kashmir, the Indian army and paramilitary Assam Rifles operate under what is called the Armed Forces Special Power Act of 1958, a much condemned and draconian law that provides Indian soldiers immunity from prosecution, and allows them to 'shoot to kill' on mere suspicion, and search homes without a warrant." (Thant Myint-U, p304)
No comments:
Post a Comment