“I remember when I was young the monsoons in Assam …” and with that opening line, I settle back into my armchair at the Mancotta Heritage Tea Bungalow to listen to my host Sanjay of East India Travel Co.
Assam is full of stories – of how the first tea planters arrived and how, at 450 million kilogrammes of tea a year, it now produces half of the world’s production, of how the Ahom kings built their kingdom from 1228-1826 and repelled 17 Mughal invasions, and of how it is the least developed in tourism because even domestic travellers stay away because of lingering perceptions of border strife and because, well, it just seems another world away.
Arriving in the small town of Dibrugarh from the heaving metropolis of Kolkatta is like slipping into a quiet tributary from the mighty Brahamaputra river, on which we will be spending time during this 10-day Tea and Wildlife Adventure of Assam.
Except of course there is nothing quiet about India especially on its roads which seem to be more public gathering areas for dogs, cows, goats and humans than they are a conduit to somewhere, and “blow horn” is the anthem of the road.
Trains, cars, bicycles, motorbikes, cows, goats, dogs, people – they all share the road in India. It seems chaotic to us but somehow it seems to work.
The Mancotta Heritage Tea Bungalow is the former residence of the manager on this tea estate. We have the entire house to ourselves and sitting by the fireplace, and sipping Assam tea with biscuits, you are transported to a different era.
In the morning, we set off to the Ethelwold Tea Estate, a 100-year-old business founded by an Englishman who named the enterprise after his daughter.
We learnt all about tea processing, from plucking to drying to being put through the CTC process (Cut, Tear & Curl, which sounds rather like something that happens at a hair salon) and fermenting and finally being put in bags to be sent to the auction house, its price to be determined by tea brokers.
Tea estates abound in Assam, which produces roughly half of the world’s tea production.
In today’s age of robotics, the factory, with its heavy-duty industrial machinery and mechanical processes, looks like something out of the dark ages but it clearly serves its purpose.
This estate produces roughly 1 million kg of tea a year although this year’s production was the lowest in five years. “Bad weather,” said KM, the manager.
Sanjay tells us the monsoon patterns have changed in Assam. In his youth, you could predict them, they’d come in a huge downpour and go. Today, they are unpredictable, create floods, destroy crops and wash entire villages away.
Seniram Gogol, our host for a home-cooked lunch by Dolly, his granddaughter.
Walking along the Brahmaputra River one evening, we see only a dry river bed but in the summer monsoon, it’s full to the brim and the sand dyke that protects the neighbouring village is hardly any defence.
Being an agricultural land, weather patterns are crucial to people’s livelihoods. An 82-year-old farmer we met when we visited his house for a home-cooked lunch told us of how farming was becoming more difficult and how he wished the government would solve the irrigation problems.
On the other hand, he said things have improved in Assam with education opportunities for his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, and crime rates are down.
Seniram Gogoi told us stories while his granddaughter Dolly, who loves cooking and experimenting, prepared our lunch. This is the first time their family has cooked for visitors, an experience Sanjay has arranged in line with trends he’s heard of how travellers today want “local, authentic experiences”.
Seniram’s five sons contributed towards building the house, which is clearly the biggest and best house in the village of Jokai Samuguri. When we arrived, a brand new car was blaring the Hindustani version of “Despacito”.
Dolly, masterchef in the making, preparing our lunch in her kitchen.
At 17 years old, Dolly is a master chef in the making, her food is delicious and varied, a mix of Assamese and North Indian flavours. She clearly loves cooking and hosting and I can see her becoming a star in this new sharing economy.
In the past couple of days, travelling from Diburgarh to Jorhat, we’ve become objects of curiosity to locals. At Sivasagar, capital of the Ahom kings and site of an ancient lake, the tallest Shiva temple in the country, and temple ruins, we were literally mobbed for selfies. Selfies are huge in India – you can tell from the advertising you see for smartphones, all boasting “the best selfie”.
At Thai Ahom, a cluster of three villages populated by descendants of the Thais who came to this area in the 1800s, almost the entire village turns up to welcome us. A proud father talks of how his son is finishing his final year in agricultural studies. The head monk invites us for an audience and apologises that because he didn’t know about our visit in advance, he had nothing to offer us except tea and biscuits, and invited us for tea.
Shivagar, site of an ancient lake, temples and ruins
They cling to the culture, still speak Thai and cook Thai food. It’s wonderful to see how they’ve assimilated so well, yet retain their heritage, traditions and religion. Tolerance is a beautiful thing in today’s world.
What was meant to be a quick visit to the Thai temple turned into an hour visit. I felt like it was Chinese New Year as we sat talking about everything and nothing.
In Assam, they have a saying. “Guest is God. They come from far away to bring us good wishes and knowledge.”
Young girls we met in a village. When we asked them what they wanted to be, the answers ranged from teacher to dress designer, singer and doctor.
That slight delay in Thai Ahom meant we had to drive the remaining 30 kilometres to Jorhat in the dark. Sunsets are early – 4.30pm – and are short, sharp and sweet. And driving in rural India in the dark is an experience in itself.
“Indian road, Indian car, Indian driver, it’s complicated,” says Prakash, our guide.
Part 2: Onto Majuli island, the largest inhabited river island in the world, and shortlisted by UNESCO for World Heritage Site culture.