Back in Mon the dust from the main road appeared worse if anything. People still lined the street selling fruit and vegetables around the sumo terminal and leading up to the Paramount Hotel. Everything on the wooden stalls, including the store holders themselves were covered in a yellow layer of dust. It was difficult to understand how people can live like this, yet away from the centre the roads were tarmac and the town seemed pretty nice and friendly with glorious views over the Naga Hills.


As we had experienced so much trouble with accommodation in Mon, we had this time booked in advance a room with Helsa’s Cottage and the manageress Auntie . Helsa’s was a dust free oasis quite close to the Sumo terminal with a small courtyard, climbing plants and balconied rooms overlooking the hills. It also had friendly staff, good food and was a place I would definitely recommend, although its not cheap. Here Langa and I just dropped our bags and then returned to the Sumo terminal to meet Valle, one of Ayong’s friends who owns a taxi.


I was keen to visit a small village north of Mon called Shangnyu. This village was famous for both its collection of skulls from the headhunting era but also for its fertility carvings. Head hunting is the practice the Nagas are famous for in the West and this village offers a chance to gauge that history with a close encounter with the skulls. I am though finding this obsession we tourists have with the headhunting era, not as interesting as I initially did. The Naga peoples have a far more interesting and complex culture than just this practice indicates . Nevertheless the chance to learn more about this aspect was one I was not going to pass on. The village was about 35 kms away on a road that would I would soon realise make it into my top five worst road experiences. Valle was keen to drive us there in his tiny mini taxi, with no clearance, bald tyres and missing a few windows. At £40 GBP (normal fare GBP £60) this was expensive by any country’s standard, but if I wanted to go this was the only way that did not involve an overnight stay. Shangnyu has no accommodation. 


Off we went at a snails pace along a road that resembled a riverbed after a national disaster. At least twice Valle got out of the car to try and inspect the undercarriage after nasty sounding scrape. Ayong amused himself by trying to play some music which I had recorded on his USB, but the road was so bumpy that the USB could not cope and it only managed about 30 seconds of one song which it continually repeated. All in all the journey took close to three hours and I was dusty and aching all over when we arrived. However all was not miserable as we passed interesting villages, little houses by the road, villagers working and the odd tea plantation. Here the vegetation did not appear to have been destroyed like other areas in this state I had visited and the rolling Naga Hills were covered in lush vegetation as far as we could see.


Finally Valle drove into the village and straight onto the football pitch amongst what appeared to be an army parade . “Thats the Village Guard,” remarked everyone as Valle put his foot to the floor and we sped past the soldiers in formation and the opposing goal posts in a large ball of dust. As we rounded and approached the older part of the village, two young men stopped the car and discussed something with Ayong and Valle. We parked and walked up the final grassy and dusty mound to the Angh’s Hut. Close to the entrance to the Chief’s hut we passed a collection of raised large stones, pointing skywards amongst some vigorous undergrowth and spouting young trees. “Are those religious stones?” I asked and Langa said he would find out.


The Angh’s house was considerably smaller than the one in Longwa, and he appeared quite different in the way he address us and spoke, with beetle nut staining his teeth blood red. One thing which was not changed was that his ‘bodyguard’ was preparing another opium dose. He cackled away as he talked with Langa and Ayong finding my nationality particularly funny. I tried to tell him that I knew that the first British Red Coats found his village the most ferocious and fearsome in the unadministered area of Konyak and were not keen on engaging its warriors. Unfortunately he seemed more intent on what was been prepared that my attempts at conversation. I also noticed behind him row of empty hard liquor bottles and the place seemed generally in a large state of disrepair . Nevertheless he extended his hand in friendship and suggested we visit the museum that was opposite his hut. Outside to the left was a much grander hut lined with many buffalo and Mithun skulls with ornate decorations and carvings. I found myself wondering why he was not in there.


The museum was in a new building which appeared rather out of place in this setting and the young man who had spoken to Valle on our arrival in the car opened the door. The room inside was dominated by a huge piece of Banyan wood. Here were placed several carvings of Konyak Warriors with tattoos in various states of sexual arousal and one in an embrace with a Konyak woman. These sculptures were not more than a couple of feet high and attached to the horizontal trunk. At the top were engravings of monkeys and human skulls with two tigers in poor condition standing on the top of the wood.


Langa found out that local legend had it that in olden times an Angh had two wives, one of whom was mischievous . When he got fed up with her behaviour he had her taken to the edge of the village where there is a cliff and a sheer drop down to the jungle. Here she was thrown over the edge. Her fall though was broken by this Banyan tree, and she was not badly injured. When she returned to the village she had lost her mischievous nature and very soon she was back in the Angh’s hut and fell pregnant. In honour of this change he had the Banyan tree cut down and this imagery created. This was not the most politically correct story, but then not much is in this part of the world.


The rest of the museum was a bit of a dead loss, with some dustyMithunSkulls, a couple of large old guns and strange (seeming modern) immensely large shoe in a glass case. It was now that the young man demanded the entrance fee (inflated) plus the Angh’s gift (a normal payment) to be given to him. I refused saying I would give it only in person to the king, but he would have none of this and started to intimidate Langa. In the end (to avoid things getting out of hand) I paid this inflated amount, and he put the notes in his pocket quickly and disappeared.


He was obviously a drug addict (that would explain his erratic behaviour) and it was now I realised that he was also meant to show us the skulls. Luckily Ayong went and spoke to the Angh who appeared appalled that this man had stolen his money. The young man we now discovered was his son, and the Angh assured Ayong that he would be punished when they could find him. He then dispatched his bodyguard to show us the village’s skull collection.


We now walked past the collection of large stones down a narrow path past a few houses into an impressive forest with huge rainforest trees. These were the biggest most impressive trees I had seen in the state and their roots had those tell tale rainforest patterns with long roots descending down from branches above our heads. The well worn pathway lead to an old tree with a hollow gigantic trunk. It was hear we found out that the skulls were brought.  


It was now that the bodyguard mentioned that after a battle the warriors would return with the enemy heads and place them in front of the large stones close to the entrance of the Angh’s hut. Here brief rituals were carried out before the heads were brought to this tree. Now I was interested to see the contents so we all climbed into the trunk and here was a small pile of human skulls. It was erie, fascinating and a little macabre, but knowing about the stones made it all the more interesting.


On the way back to the car some of the children were venturing out of the houses to say hello. Whilst I was saying hello I noticed a large old man on the floor in the doorway of his house and I went over with Ayong to talk to him. As I approached I could see he had the facial tattoos of a former successful headhunter plus the chest tattoos that indicated he was a feared warrior. However in a few minutes he told Ayong that he had lost the use of his legs and could no longer walk. I was suddenly very touched by this man’s predicament. He was 77 years old and was reduced to crawling around the floor of his hut. This must have been hard on him as he was obviously once a feared, big man and a hugely respected warrior. As he talked to Ayong it was obvious that it was tough on him too and he started getting quite emotional. Valle and Langa arrived and it appeared that he could not afford the fare to Mon to go to the doctor and that his state pension of $25 each year was hardly sufficient when the fee to Mon was nearly $7 return.


This was very sobering, as all I encountered in the village up to that point was drug addicts and people trying to rip off tourists. I have been told that Angh’s are meant to look after their villagers but from what I can see they are only interested in where their next fix comes from. I left him with some money so he could go and see a doctor, but I am not sure he will. I was moved by this visit and discussed this all the way back to Mon with Langa.


Back in Mon, I was pleased to be in Helsa’s. We had a good chicken curry and I had an early night as I was exhausted. The next day was Sunday and in Nagaland everything is closed and nothing happens, so we just had to stay put at Helsa’s. This unfortunately meant I lost another day and my plans to travel down Eastern Nagaland now needed changing if I was to get to the festivals on time. Luckily the weather was good and we sat on the balcony after breakfast and chatted with two nice girls from Jaffa, Israel. With this enforced day of rest, it was now imperative to make some good progress back to Mooching and then Tuensang, so it was nearly morning departure on the Monday. I said goodbye to Ayong who had been a great friend and arranged to see him again later on in my trip.