A mantis travelling on Roman’s shoulder
We met no more human ashes, nor voodoo dolls on our way to the cave. The mystic cave turned out to be a hole in a limestone sink, about one meter in diameter. The khasi stayed away from the hole, trying to peep into the vertical hole from a distance.
On and on, ever turning and turning, and sliding up and down the hills of Meghalaya, we pedal to the East. Towards the state of Manipur, burning in the flames of a revolt. Behind us, in front of us, side by side with us Tata trucks roar they way from the coal mines, huge, rubbed, all heavily loaded with coal. “Give way, you little nuisances!” they horn to us huskily. When tired of climbing up the hills, Roma and Gleb speed up and clutch at the frame of the nearest truck. Tata usually doesn’t like this, but the driver sticks out of the window, looking back at them, smiling and absolutely nonchalant about the road safety.
Road makers greet our peloton
Wandering the hilly and sylvan Land of Nyishi – one of the biggest tribes in Arunachal Pradesh – can bring you all sorts of increaqdible encounters. Just step off the beaten paths, cross the jungle, climb the faraway hills – and meet all these fabular people in their usual rural settings. Be sure – you will be the first foreigner they ever meet. We, actually, were!
Nobody knows what is a saw here. So they just take their knives and their daos (Asian type of machete, a mixture of a sword and a knife, for cutting paths in the jungle) and cut their doors from whole tree trunks. This takes really big effort!
Only pictures here. Full entry is only available in Russian
We hit the road and fly to Beijing today.
Our expedition is assumed to take half a year of research in different countries – China, India and Burma. But once you set off, you fall under the dramatic rules of the unfolding story, not being able to stick to the plans that you cherished and meticulously built in Moscow.
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