The fact that we could not get from Mon to Tuensang was somewhat infuriating. We now had to return back to Mokokchung on that terrible road, stay over again at Auntie’s and then move to Tuensang the following day thus losing a day in the process. This meant that I would not be able to do the South Eastern part of Nagaland until after my planned visit to Manipur for the Indigenous Sports Festival or maybe even later.


Nevertheless a spot of pampering at Akok’s sister’s (Auntie) guesthouse in Mokokchung was always to be savoured even if it was the second time in a week . The trip to Mokokchung was a painful as the one a week earlier, but we made it again, despite the potholes, the moon like road surface, the border police (in shockingly coloured pyjamas this time) and the immense clouds of dust. The tea plantations in Assam were again lovely and we had the same smiling driver plus a great load of fellow travellers (all Nagas) so it was not too bad. Langa and I arrived exhausted, but it was great to Auntie again and taste her great food. We also caught up with her son Tushi and the taxi man, Albert. 


The next morning it was Sumo travel again to Tuensang, this time in a brisk five hours on a road that was worse than I remembered it being one year ago, but still nothing like those poor excuses for roads in the Konyak area.


On arrival we went straight to Langa’s house. Langa’s family live in a traditional wooden two storey building in the main part of the town just below the clock tower . He has four sisters, three of whom are married with children and one who is disabled. He also has a younger brother who has very considerately moved out of his bedroom for my visit. His mother lives alone since becoming a widow over ten years ago.


The house has some relatives living downstairs, plus some neighbours across the narrow courtyard. They all share one toilet and have their pigs in their pig palaces (as I call the Naga’s small pig enclosures) in the small courtyard. Every one knows everyone and without exception they are all friendly and very hospitable. The only unfortunate thing was the construction of the floor, which was not good, so when the family lit the fire to cook below, above the house quickly filled with thick wood burning smoke.


That night everyone arrived to meet me, including an mainland Indian shopkeeper living a few doors up who according to Langa “could not believe there is a foreigner in my house.”  This area of Nagaland rarely receives visitors, and I (with Dieter and Dominique) may well have been the last ones here in 2013. That time we had a bad experience (please see previous blog) but this time with Langa I knew this would be totally different.


Initially we took a stroll around town where nothing much had changed . The good museum was still there, locked and apparently not frequented since my last visit. Again Langa had to ask for the building to be unlocked. They had stood up the model in the display which had fallen over last time, but had unfortunately allowed some moisture into the exhibits and now they had a real mould problem threatening to damage the clothes and some of the artefacts. I explained all this to a disinterested assistant manager and was not confident it would be sorted. I hope it will, as the collection is worth preserving (the only exhibition of the local Eastern tribes’ artefacts in Nagaland) and is worth building on. After that I returned to the unique and friendly Coffee Shop opposite the Post Office just along from the clock tower the clocktower to enjoy their Latte coffee and their sensational Momos (which are still great value).


Back at the house, everyone appeared engaged on the phones with the Hakchang village elders trying to pursue them to grant me permission to visit the cave and site of creation of the Chang culture . This site Langa had told me had paintings, stones and was in a large cave which was of huge significance to the Changs. I was very interested to visit this cave but soon came to realise that the village elders were split as to whether I (a foreigner) should be allowed. I am still unsure as to the reasons they had for preventing my access but one was that I would miss represent their culture to other foreigners. Nevertheless I left it with Langa and his Mum who tried for hours. Initially we gained permission to visit but this was revoked for no reason sometime later in the afternoon. Eventually by nightfall the elders changed their minds and we were told that we could visit, the following day. That night I enjoyed a raucous evening with Langa’s family, nieces, nephews, dogs, puppies etc and a great Naga meal, I got a great nights sleep.


In the morning I awoke to the news that the village elders of Hakchang had reversed their decision again . So after a quick conference it was decided that as the taxi was organised we would go to visit Nakshou Village. This traditional village is located on the mountain slopes opposite the uncooperative village of Hakchang and is also known for its collection of skulls. Only 32 kms from Tuensang the road is renowned locally as worse than atrocious and the journey there (I was told) would take around 3 hours.


Actually it was worth the effort. The road circumvented Tuensang offering great views of the sprawling city with its four hills, before climbing the adjacent mountains and then working its way along their sides towards Nakshou. For this journey I was accompanied by two of Langa’s sisters and one of his uncles. His uncle worked in the road and bridge construction ministry and was quick to acknowledge the appalling state of the Nagaland roads and to agree with everyone’s assessment of their bad management. These road problems through out the state are a result of poor management and corruption and nothing to do with Langa’s Uncle. As with the previous trip to Shangnyu, the forest seemed more untouched in most places with even a few birds and obvious signs of Mithun activity. The road was just as bad as I had been warned, another top five candidate, requiring plenty of undercarriage inspections after many close calls and scrapings. Public transport to this remote place was available although appeared sporadic. We passed a few settlements, a few plots with some forest deforestation and some timber workers, but on the whole it was natural right up until Nakshou.


When we arrived, we were greeted by one of Langa's friends who proceeded to accompany us through the town. Soon we were joined by a young woman who turned out to be the local pastor. The village and its old looking church straddled the hill and the main street followed the incline down to where the village ended. This was marked by three stones which were placed there. “Are these religious, “ I enquired. “No” the Preacher replied, “they are the remnants of our village wall which was constructed to protect this settlement against attack.”  Just beside them we turned left onto a narrow path that descended beneath the main road and there under the road was an entrance to a small cave. As we got closer we could tell it was crammed full of skulls. One on top of another, some crushed and in pieces, some whole. Langa’s Uncle explained that originally these skulls were not the heads resulting from head hunting activities but actually the heads of village residents. This was intriguing as I was expecting headhunting trophy skulls, but this was a surprise.


The lady pastor now explained that before the arrival of the Baptists, seven days after the death of a villager the head was separated from the rest of the corpse. The head was then placed on top of a piece of bark from a Banyan tree and “smoked” over a fire until all the flesh came off. After this, the skulls were placed into a earthenware basket (the remains of some were clearly visible in the cave) and returned to the grieving family where the skull would then be treated as part of the family by being offered food and drink when the family ate, to quench the soul’s thirst. This was a practice unique to the Chang tribe. After a period of time the basket with the skull would be placed in the cave just outside the village. These skulls depositories were always located outside the village so marauders and attacking warriors from other villages would have difficulty finding them during an attack.


This I found fascinating and we moved back up into the village to a lookout to enjoy a picnic the sisters had brought for us before embarking on the second part of the journey, the return leg back to Tuensang along the road to hell. When we did get back to Langa’s home we worked out we had managed just 10kms per hour, a speed similar to the roads in Madagascar.


That night I met the brother of Lang's father who arrived after dinner offering to help with the uncooperative elders in Hakchang. Quickly he seemed to get in touch with the right man and was then able to extract a promise that we could visit Hakchang the following day, my last day in Tuensang. I was grateful and once again started looking forward to the visit. The next morning I was up early only to find out that yet again the elders had reneged on their decision. It appears that some of the elders were reluctant to let a foreigner (non-Chang) into the cave where their culture originated for fear that the cave and their culture would be misrepresented to the outside world. Its a shame that they thought that about me without even meeting me, but I do respect their decision. Consequently Langa and I gave up and decided on a quiet day around Tuensang.


Tuensang is not the most picturesque town in Nagaland. In fact on the whole I am of the opinion that the villages are the most interesting places to visit in Nagaland and the towns really just offer convenient places where you can base yourself for these visits. Tuensang is in a worse condition than most of these towns and has certainly suffered from a major fire which recently destroyed the central market.


Langa has founded a social pressure group called Tuensang Voice which brings together socially conscious young people to provide services to the community and pressurise local politicians to do their jobs and keep promises. A very admirable undertaking and he was able to show me some of their projects as we walked around including the painting of the clocktower, the cleaning of the hospital and the provision of rubbish bins to the local retailers.


Back at his mother’s house there was a never ending procession of nieces and nephews coming into the house. I also sat with his disabled sister for a while. She has been paralysed since birth and can only move her head, but whilst she cannot talk, she can communicate and does understand Chang and some English. I told her about myself and showed her some of my photographs. This also drew a large crowd of children. That night I said goodbye to Langa’s family, his sisters, mother, aunt, nephews and nieces, all of whom had shown me a real glimpse into Chang life in Tuensang. I must say this has been a simply magical experience after the rather bad time I had in this town the previous year.


The next morning we had a long journey by Sumo to Kohima. Having been on these roads before I was not worried about their condition and we quickly completed the first leg to Mokokchung with no problems. However the second part was awful again. Current work on the roads of a mainly cosmetic nature had rendered them huge dust bowls and the second and longest part of this journey became quite unpleasant. The windows of the vehicle again remained open.


Ten hours after we had left Tuensang, we arrived in Kohima gasping for fresh air and I dropped Langa who had arranged to meet the Israeli girls from Mon and went straight to Nino’s Kohima apartment. A good hot shower washed the dirt off me but not from my lungs as my bronchial cough returned with a vengeance. Actually I was generally feeling quite tired and pleased to just flop.


For the next few days I rested and enjoyed a lively banter with Bala, another guest who was from Mumbai and travelling around India. This was the third time I had stayed at Nino’s establishment and again it felt like home. Great food, internet and no dust, it gave me a good rest but I was unable to banish my cough. In the end I had to get some medicine, which finally seemed to provide some relief. Around town some people remembered me. The lady that sold me my shawls did as did Nino’s neighbour. I also met an interesting German couple for lunch a couple of times. In the end after a nice rest it was time to move on - to Manipur.