At 4.30 in the morning, Itanagar is a city asleep. When I arrived at the sumo stand, bang on time (the time is stipulated on my ticket as it is with every Sumo ticket) no one was around. The only thing moving in front of the ticket counters were some feral dogs, which had just been fighting. After about twenty minutes, one friendly man arrived and open his kiosk, which was next to the one from which I had purchased my ticket. Sensing my frustration (as by now I knew I could have slept for another hour) he took pity on me and bought me a chilli tea, which certainly woke me up.


Finally, just after 5 am just as the sun was warming up the area, the place sprang to life . It was now that my sumo kiosk’s manager appeared, looking somewhat the worse for wear and introduced me to the driver. It transpired that there was only four passengers for this journey and remarkably, the driver insisted on leaving there and then. Actually he drove like a madman, not slowing down around the hairpin bends, scattering chickens, ducks, dogs and other farm animals whilst flying through the villages. Without the obligatory tea stop, we reached Ziro at 9.30, exactly one hour ahead of schedule and this was after we had left so late - that information alone gives you an idea of the speed.


I was staying at the Ziro Valley Resort and I had to get a taxi there. I had already asked the resort what the fare would be and again all the taxi drivers formed a cartel and tried to charge me a higher fare. Of course I lost my temper quickly and I ended up having a running argument with the whole taxi stand. In the end I phoned the owner of the Ziro Valley Resort who kindly came and collected me .


It was a nice relaxing change to walk through the doors of the Ziro Valley and I immediately met the manager, who politely introduced himself. They put me in a large room with big ensuite, heater (luxury!) and satellite tv. Within a few minutes Guddi had arrived. Guddi is a friend of Nino Zhasa and she is an Apa Tani. We were introduced in Kohima at the Hornbill Festival in 2014, when Guddi was helping out Nino Zhasa. Initially I had told her that I was not going to visit Ziro as I was going to Tirap, however since I learned that foreigners are not permitted to travel in Tirap (no reason given), Ziro seemed the obvious alternative.


Ziro is a small valley some 50 kilometres north of Itanagar in the Subansiri District. Surrounded by the Nishi people (see previous blog), Ziro Valley is home to some 15,000 Apa Tani people. I was keen to visit the Apa Tanis and this was going to be much easier now that Nino had introduced me to Guddi. Having visited the Monpa people in Arunachal in 2013, the Apa Tanis would be my fourth tribal people after seeing the Idu Mishmi and the Nishi earlier. There are many different tribal groups in Arunachal Pradesh and I was keen not to rush around the state too quickly and therefore understand little. Therefore I was taking my time, and just visiting four groups on my two visits . The four I had decided to visit were different to each other and would provide good contrast with the Nagas. The Apa Tanis themselves are quite unique. Famed for their beautiful rice paddies, they are renowned as great agriculturalists having worked to establish the Ziro Valley as the ‘bread basket of Arunachal Pradesh”.


But that is of course not the only difference that first strikes the visitor. The villages here are the key (similar to Nagaland) and once I had understood that, then Guddi was only too keen to take me on a village trek to highlight these differences. For this purpose, she had also recommended the Ziro Valley Resort due to its location and quality. 


The Apa Tani’s dress must have been distinctive some 70 years ago, but now (as with the Nagas, Monpas, Nishis and Idu Mishmis) many people have shunned this tradition in favour of jeans and tee shirts. If one is keen to see the traditional outfits, then the older generation offer the best chance. However it’s the facial tattoos and nose plugs that set the Apa Tanis apart. These practises are now forbidden, so again its the older generation that offer the only opportunity to witness this practice as well. The men traditionally tie their hair in a bun just above the forehead and this is held in place by large hairpins (these days it can be knitting needles) . They also sport a facial tattoo just under the lip in a straight line that descends down the chin sometimes in a sort of triangle. In the case of the women these tattoos start on the forehead and go down over the tip of the nose, also over the mouth finishing at the chin. They also have two large (in some cases as much as 2 inches in diameter) nose plugs inserted into each nostril. These pegs are made from bamboo and inserted at a young age and then replaced slowly by bigger ones the older the woman becomes. Originally this was a sign of beauty and the bigger the plug the more beautiful the woman. Since this practice has been stopped, one is unlikely to encounter anyone under 50 years with the plugs. Guddi was continually asking the women for permission to photograph them, whilst engaging these women in conversation. I found this approach respectful to the women and also fascinating as we found out much that was interesting. Nevertheless, some of the locals simply found just my presence intimidating. One lady working on her paddy waived her hoe threateningly at me when I approached and several just hide their faces .


Guddi also explained that these women traditionally have raised the family, cooked and sourced the food whilst working the famous paddies (the men don't work in the paddies) - “thats why their houses are a mess, as they don't have time to clean” she exclaimed. She also added that the new generation do not work these paddies, so this practice could die in the next few years as the old ladies pass away.


As we walked to the first village that afternoon, the paddies surrounding the village looked fabulous. Of course this is winter and with only one crop a year, each paddy was brown with just stalks sitting in water or mud as the paddy field was rested. I could hardly imagine how this valley must look in July (during the monsoon) when its all decorated with a lush green carpet. Approaching the first village I met my first lady paddy worker who let me photograph her. “She is probably in her late 70s” Guddi guessed, and she was getting ready to spread the cow dung as fertiliser and then turn over the brown stalks of last years crop with her hoe. She seemed unencumbered by the wooden plugs in her nostrils, but she turned out to be one of the few.


We wandered through the village with Guddi explaining the “Lapang" or meeting points which are traditional platforms made originally for wood and now increasingly made from concrete. These Lapang are where the elders sit to adjudicate in disputes or sit in judgement over more serious cases. Next to these platforms were erected large tree poles towering over the platforms like large telegraph poles. At festivals in the old days, people used to play a game of “Boha Banii“ tied by one foot to a rope suspended from this pole. Again rather sadly Guddi said this game was dying out as the young Apa Tanis are not interested. As a result at last year’s festival it was an old man who won the prize as his Boha Banii performance was really the only proper one.


The majority of the Apa Tani are still Animistic (although in recent years there have been many conversations to Catholicism, Baptism and Hinduism). The animistic flag was often flown in front of some houses looking strangely like the Japanese flag. However what was really interesting was what many homes displayed outside their houses. To advertise the presence of a young male in the household a small pole was erected. But also there were many small bamboo constructions placed outside some houses. These were covered in chicken feathers, eggs and sometimes chicken blood. They signified the recent visit of a Shamen due to illness or bad spirits and a house that had been sanctified was marked with one of the bamboo contractions some three feet high and crosses in chalk written on the walls. These markers made a walk through the village fascinating as one could immediately tell something about the family inside each house, without entering. An average street was littered with these markers, crosses and poles. 


As we exited the village we climbed some of the hills overlooking the rice paddies. These hills were covered in bamboo plantations, all carefully and neatly marked out and fenced in, unlike anything I had seen in the Dibrang Valley. In the middle of these plantations underneath towering pine forests and on carpets of pine needles, we came across an area which was also covered in bamboo markers varying in height and width and each decorated with white eggs. “This is a site where we honour our ancestors and the spirits,” Guddi informed me. She also went on to say that many people were weary of these places and of the power of these spirits which reside in these sacred sites. I was fascinated. Many of these constructions were new and at subsequent sites on this walk, we saw evidence of the previous night’s ceremonies.


One place that Guddi was keen to show me was a traditional house owned by three widows. Unfortunately they were all busy tending their paddies on the only day I could visit, but were happy to leave the keys so we could have a look at their traditional Apa Tani home. Picturesque was hardly the word. This totally bamboo structure (including a rare thatched roof) was stunning and was built overlooking the paddies. It comprised of one room with a porch at the front and a balcony with this great view at the back. Inside, mats covered the floor and there was a traditional fire place in the centre placed on a traditional hearth. Pots and pans hung above the fire place on a bamboo rack suspended from the roof, whilst baskets, shawls and other cloths hung on the walls. The toilet was a long thin bamboo ledge outside the right hand side of the bamboo hut covered by the overhanging roof and was the privacy was provided by a bamboo screen. People had to be quite agile to use that and the ledge could accommodate several users in a row. Guddi took her time showing me everything and explaining everything.


Next we hurried off to a neighbouring village as Guddi had found out there was a traditional wedding taking place. When we arrived the bride and groom were inside a traditional house in this small town surrounded by elders and members of the grooms family. Out the front were the bride’s family huddled around a substantial pile of smoked pork which turned out to be one of the wedding gifts. At the back the women congregated around tables where some were involved in food and drink preparation whilst others were just sitting and chatting. Everyone was very welcoming. I met a man who was a relative of the bride who showed me the food donated for the couple’s wedding gift.


At this point four German tourists arrived with their guide (whom I had met at the Hornbill). There were a couple and two guys, each with enormous zoom lenses. I was busy speaking with the women preparing the food and entered into an interesting conversation with a lady who had plugs in her nose and traditional tattoos on her face. She was interested to know (after a talking for a while with Guddi’s help) whether I found her looks “ugly”. I was saddened by this question as it led me to worry that these older women’s experience with tourists and constant intrusive photography had started to make them feel this way. I was interested to know whether she was worried about Apa Tani traditions disappearing, as the youngsters have shunned the rice paddy culture which is so important to the older women of Ziro. She surprisingly replied that she wasn't bothered at all, and if the younger generation wanted to move in another direction she would support them. This indicated to me how hard these older women’s life had been.


Unfortunately these tourists seemed less interested in these conversations with the women and more interested in taking photos without asking permission. This became embarrassing when the couple came back from the wedding to where we were sitting and announced that the ‘squirrel part of the ceremony was starting’. The two blokes then entered the house and walked amongst the wedding party with flashes firing and their cameras right up in the old women’s faces. I noticed several hide their tattoos behind their hands. This behaviour was too much and I immediately left to return to the lady I had been talking too. I did not see these tourists again but did catch the married couple’s procession out of the ceremony to their ‘new’ home led by the bride and followed by the groom and some elders. As it transpired the wedding would continue the following day, I asked Guddi if we could visit again.


Back at the Ziro Valley Resort, the talented chef had cooked me an Apa Tani dish which was not on the menu, which Guddi had recommended. Chicken cooked in a bamboo turned out to be terrific and a real tasty treat.  


The next day we arrived early for the wedding (the same couple but different house) and this time there were no other tourists. Again everyone was welcoming and seemed unconcerned that a foreigner was inviting himself. Guddi took time to explain the proceedings as the elders sat with the bride and groom at one end of the house. The set up was the same as the previous day, but this time I watched from the front porch as the host family explained to the elders that they had put their best food together for the meal on this special day. The other surprising thing was the amount of dried pork (much larger than the previous day) which was piled up out the back ready for the new couple. I estimated that they would not need to go meat shopping for at least a year after these two days gifts.


More elders arrived in flowing white shawls as we watched, with several sporting their hair tied in buns above their foreheads and secured with a hairpin. Some also had the traditional tattoos under the lips. The ceremony continued, with speech after speech and then the squirrel ceremony arrived. A basket of squirrels which looked like they had been roasted arrived plus several gourds. The elders then filed out of the house and onto the balcony to examine these squirrels and gourds. Guddi explained that once selected, these items would be placed in the corner of the new couple’s home and this area would thus become the domestic shrine. The elders selected two roasted squirrels and two gourds, looking for two of each which resembled each other. These were then presented as another wedding gift for the couple. The elders certainly took there time weighing up the squirrels and the gourds before making their choice. With the rice beer flowing and the party in full swing this was our cue to leave.


After a packed lunch we took a vehicle into the hills to some villages where the Nishi tribes live. Unlike the Apa Tanis who live in the valleys, these Nishi prefer the hill tops. Here Guddi wanted to show me a Nishi long house. I was particularly interested in seeing these houses, after witnessing the festival in Itanagar a few days previously and we drove several kilometres out of Ziro and up into the mountains.


We stopped outside a truly long Nishi house which was owned by one large family and contained everyone. The long house was just one big long room where every generation ate, lived and slept. Each family had its own fireplace and there were six families in total. Each was related to the elder family who had their own fireplace. The area around each fireplace was covered in mats and this was where everyone ate and slept. Outside there was a large vegetable garden, a communal fish pond and a volleyball pitch at one end. Everything was shared and was impressive. Grandparents helped with the raising of children and three generations lived in this enormous long room. Each fire place had a little kitchen attached on the side.


I am glad I saw this. That night I slept well before my trip back to Itanagar. In the morning I met Guddi one last time and thanked her for all her hard and truly informative work including her recommendation of the excellent Ziro Valley Resort. Ziro had certainly lived up to my expectations.