November 23, 2014 
ZIRO to GARAMUR on MAJULI ISLAND (in Brahmaputra River)
La Maison De Adanda 500Rs
 

Leaving Aranuchal Pradesh
 
At 5:30am, Habung drove us to the Sumo taxi stand in Ziro. There, groups of guys stood huddled around trash fires to warm themselves. We had a cup of hot masala chai while waiting for our Sumo to get loaded and leave. The 6:00 am Sumo left at 6:30 am. Not too bad considering were in India. 

It was cold and overcast and the road was muddy. A few kilometers out of town, a truck lay turned over down the mountainside. Our Sumo driver told us it must have happened earlier this morning. Our driver appeared to continue more cautiously. Still we arrived in Lakhimpur ahead of schedule at 10:40. 
 

Getting on the Island from the North 
 
A Sikh man, who sat behind us on the Sumo, took us under his wing, so to speak, and made sure we got the best connection to Majuli Island. Looking at the map, the only way to the ferry to the Majuli was a long way around via Jorhat on the south side of the Island. One of the people there said that was what we needed to do. We asked if there was a more direct route. A lot of group discussion, head wiggling and advice was given before he told us to grab a pedicab to KB road where we could catch a TATA MAGIC (a larger and four wheel version of an auto rickshaw tuktuk) to the river ghat. The way we were guided to go was the way locals go to the island. 
 
Only one pedicab was there when we were ready. The pedicab peddler insisted on taking both of us and our whole luggage load himself. We foolishly went along with it and crammed with our luggage in his little cab. 
 
Lucky for us, it only took 10 minutes and he stopped behind the Tata Magic which took off the minute our packs were secured on top and we were squeezed in with at least a dozen others. Yes, another squeeze. 
 

River Delta Farming Villages
 
The road soon dissolved into just tracks through lovely villages with grass roofed wooden houses on stilts and rice fields.

 
Banks of the Brahmaputra
 
About an hour later, we pulled up on the banks of what we thought was the Brahmaputra (actually it was the Subansiri River). We had envisioned the ferry to be much larger. It was a wooden platform on top of a shallow hull. It took off shortly after we got there with 6 passengers and a motorcycle. A great variety of birds were on the shore. Disconcerting to us was that the sandy shore on the other side was bare and desolate. No life, no villages, only a shack and one jeep. 

Several guys sat playing cards and were uninterested in us. We told them we wanted to go to Garamur. One of them shouted "500 Rupees" and they all chuckled. We knew that was outrageous but also knew we were at their mercy. We sat down in the sand and nibbled on some sweet peas and carrots. Another jeep came driving down the straw covered sandy road and let some local people off who caught the ferry going back across. We approached that driver and he told us he was headed to Jorhat and pointed to the other jeep. On the next ferry, a group of students arrived. While most passengers grabbed their bikes, several hopped in the jeep and waited. We too jumped in and hoped for the best. Now we had enough people to spur the driver into leaving his card game.
 
We followed a raised dirt road and passed through bamboo covered lanes and past wooden houses on stilts. We had expected to reach Garamur and were surprised when we eventually reached another shore and the road tracks went no further. How could that be?

Then, a small ferry pulled up and a friendly guy, who must have noticed our surprised looks, came up to us. He told us that we were not on Majuli Island yet. He pointed across the real Bramaputra and said "that is Majuli". By chance he happened to be the caretaker of the la Maison de Adanda Guest house in Garamur we wanted to stay at. "My name is Monjit, I will see you later. It is about a 2 kilometer walk if you take the shortcut. Just follow the river path on the other side and, after 1 kilometer, turn left away from the river. It is longer if you follow the road straight". "There also is a Resort on the river you may like" he called after us as we thanked him and hopped on the small boat that was waiting for us. 
 

Long Walk to Town
 
Large cantilever fishing contraptions were raised in the river, I suspect the water was too low to make use of them this time of year. Numerous kinds of birds lined the banks. We enjoyed the walk along the river. It was around 2 pm and a pleasant temperature.

Eventually we got to a large grass roofed bamboo building, The "Resort" we surmised. Loud music was blaring out of speakers which turned us off. We didn't even want to check it out. A local man carrying a shovel came towards us and we asked him directions to Garamur. He pointed in the direction we had just come from. He took the lead and told us to follow him. We backtracked almost all the way to the ferry landing and he turned away from the river on small trail through a pasture. 

After about 500 meters, we came to a narrow paved road which we followed for another km. There Monjit, who had ran an errand across the river, had made it back before us. He offered to take my pack but I stubbornly insisted that I could make it all the way now that we were that close. Another 200 meters further was the La Maison De Adanda guesthouse. 
 

Smoking  Thurible
 
We were shown a bamboo room which was simple but clean. Hot water in a bucket was provided on request for showers. We asked and received a top sheets which often in these areas are not automatically put on the beds. We have never been refused when we ask for them. I had asked Monjit if there were mosquitoes, "Oh no, it is winter madam and not much a problem" he answered. 
 
It was 4:30 pm by now and the short days meant the sun would be down by 5:00. Dave and I sat on the small patio porch in front of our room and got immediately got targeted by several mosquitoes. Then Monjit appeared in a cloud of smoke carrying a smoke pot of coal and incense, which he claimed smelled nice, and sent the mosquitoes on the run. He entered every room and left us in a thick smokey fog. Dave said Monjit reminded him of an overzealous priest at mass.

We showered and pre-ordered dinner. 

Our dinner was served at 7 pm in Monjit's bamboo home on stilts a hundred meters down the street. When we got there, his lovely wife and mother were busy preparing our meal over an open fire-pit in the center of the room. These houses are made with woven bamboo mats for walls around a wooden or bamboo frame. 
 
Dave had ordered the non-veg dinner which turned out to be a tasty bamboo chicken and rice. I had roasted potato, boiled cabbage and roasted eggplant dish that reminded us of baba ganoush. 


November 24, 2014 
MOTORING AROUND MAJULI ISLAND (Assam)

Manuli Factoids:

The island had a total area of 483 square miles but has shrunk as the river surrounding it has grown. It was estimated to be down to 163 square miles in 2001.
 
The dwellers of Majuli are mostly of the Meshing (or Mising) tribes from Arunachal Pradesh who immigrated here centuries ago. Mishing is a contraction of two words "Mi" and "Toshing/Anshing"."Mi" means man and "Anshing/Toshing" means worthiness or cool. Cool man!

Known for Satras, A Satra is a monastery for Vishnu (Krishna) worship formed by the 15th-century Assamese philosopher Sankardev. The faith eschews (deliberately avoids) the caste system and idol worship, focusing on Vishnu as God, especially in his Krishna incarnation. 

Agriculture (primarily pesticide and artificial fertilizer free Rice), fishing, dairying, pottery, hand-loom and boat-making are main occupations on the island. A hundred different varieties of rice are grown.  

 
Slept Like Stones
 
We slept like stones, I managed to sleep for 12 hours and now felt up for anything again. 
 
Monjit gave us a copy of great stylized map he had made of the area and made some helpful sightseeing suggestions. There are several noteworthy Hindu Satras on the Island. When I mentioned my interest in local crafts, he told us of a pottery town with reservation because the people beg.

Monjit arranged for a motorcycle to be brought over for us. And at around 9 am, after breakfast of omelet and toast, we were on our way. The roads criss-crossing the Island are built above the highest flood stage of a river. In severe monsoons, all the people and their animals gather on these roads. The water usually recedes fast, Monjit told us. 


Mask Makers at Samugari Satra

Our first stop was after about 14 kilometers at Samugari Satra, the mask making temple. About 4 guys were sitting on the temple steps painting small masks. We were shown the collection of masks inside that are used for celebrations. Nothing on the outside indicated that this was a temple monastery. Apparently 150 devotees live in small rooms at the premises. We made a small donation and continued on the road to the pottery village. 

Being on a motorcycle with the freedom to stop at a whim made me crave to buy one again.


Lives Revolve Around the River
 
It was another 20 km and we frequently stopped to watch guys standing up to their waist in between water hyacinths, positioning their fishing nets. Being high on the road gave us a great vantage point to watch life in the small communities of bamboo houses that line the road. Women carry babies on their backs while they do their chores, be it working in the rice fields, preparing meals, weaving or washing clothes. A lot of socializing among people passing and friends and family. Kids came running up to the road when we passed. And when we'd stop, invariably a crowd gathered around us. 


River Mud Pottery
 
After 16 km, the road deteriorated to merely potholed dirt. Piles of neatly stacked wood were the first clue that we had arrived at the pottery village. 
 
We stopped when we spotted a man and young boy stacking earthenware pots to be fired on top of a dirt mound which had an open core for wood to be burned. The pots were being covered in tall dried grasses. Another guy arrived with a cart full of pots to be added to the stack. He was quick with asking for rupees. The kid then added, in the only words he knew in English, " hundred rupees". We bid them good bye and continued. 

Most of the huts in the village had pots stacked outside the homes. One women came running after us and wanted us to take a look at her pots. She showed us that they are pounded by hand with a wooden paddle. Her young children were eager to pose for pictures and got a kick out of seeing themselves on the screen. A baby goat caught my eye and the neighbor lady came running and motioned that she had four kids. We followed her and checked out her little goats. As we left, Dave handed the pottery lady some money and, surprisingly, she did not accept it. He left it in one of her pots. 


Assam Wedding Party
 
We were now on the village side bordering the Brahmaputra. Several larger boats lay anchored on a sandy bank in the river. Across the river we noticed a colorful group of people and two boys who had been following us were able to tell us that the people were having a picnic. 

A man on motorcycle came by and was curious about us. He then invited us to an Assam wedding and motioned for us to follow him. 

We followed him along the shore and came out on clearing with two busy kiln mounds in the process of being covered with mud. We were able to watch it for a while then one guy came down to us and asked for rupees. The guy who was taking us to the wedding told us to ignore the request and follow him a few hundred more meters to the wedding venue. 

The groom, dressed in white doti, tunic and traditional scarf with red pattern woven into it, was introduced to us and he offered us some seeds. All the guests wore predominantly white too. Women were separated from the men and every one was eating a mixture of sprouted grains, a banana and pieces of sugarcane on a banana leaf plate. They insisted for us to join them. One man, who spoke reasonably good English, sat with us and introduced us to the parents of the groom. Apparently the bride was not expected until the next day.

They all received us with smiles and I suppose it gave them a welcome distraction.

After the sprouts, we were served a plate fashioned out of bamboo with traditional wedding dish of rice, curd and brown sugar, very tasty. A small girl was brought over to us who performed a little song and dance after which we bid our goodbyes. 


Early Sundown and Cool Evening

We had made a big loop through the village and managed to find our way back to familiar grounds. Back at the guesthouse we arranged for buckets of hot water for our shower and played cards until dinner time.

I was looking forward to the grilled catfish I had pre-ordered. Again Monjit came by with his smoke and it appeared to keep the skeeters at bay. Around 6 pm, the power went off and came back on a few hours later. 

My fish turned out to be very bony and very small and definitively not catfish. I stuck with the vegetables and had a small bite of Dave's bamboo chicken. Malcolm, a guy from Scotland came in a bit later. He had arrived from Jorhat in the afternoon. He didn't seem to mind the fish that got bumped from my plate to his. He had been in Nepal for a charity bike ride. He only has about 5 weeks and travels at pretty fast pace.
    
Dave still hasn't been able to get his phone to work here in Assam. He asked Monjit's advise on how to proceed to Mon. Several tour drivers who had guests staying at La Maison chimed in and told Dave to advance book a hotel in Mon. They offered to call and reserve our place. They told Dave that in no way could we make it to Mon in one day using public transport, that we best spend the night in Shivsagar and next day continue to Mon. They finally got through to Auntie in Mon and reserved a room for three nights for us.

So that was the plan. 

 
November 25, 2014
Majuli Island Exploration Day Two

We decided to keep the bike another day and went in search of "the Mishing Tribe People". According to Monjit, his ancestors came from Tibet. Many went to Arunachal Pradesh but some came down to Majuli Island. 

We noticed the different levels of prosperity in the different groups on the Island. Some villages were much more rundown than others. Only in one area did we notice that villagers spent time and money beautifying their property. They planted non essentials such as flowers and shrubs. Tall palm trees lined their walkways and they had more ample pens for livestock. 

On our way back, we ended up on path through the rice fields that were busy with harvesting. 
   
We stopped at the internet place and were happy that it was working today. It was not a cozy place, a few wooden benches, paint peeling.  

 
Exit Plan
 
It was getting pretty cool by the time we got back to our guesthouse.
 
We agreed to share a taxi jeep with Malcolm the Scot in the morning to go to the ferry ghat for Jorhat. He planned to go as far as Shivsagar with us. Maybe spend the night there too. From there he would be off to Guwahati and we to Mon the following morning.