Vibrant hues of Hornbill

Cultural bonanza

It finally takes a phone call to a Naga friend to get me a room in Kohima. For the rest of the year, the hotels in this troubled hill state may remain vacant, but during the Hornbill Festival, you need reservation much in advance.

The weeklong Hornbill Festival does lend a bit of exotic charm to Kohima, but otherwise, you can confuse it with any other small Indian hill station. Thankfully, the festival is organised 10 kilometers away from the congested town, in the quieter realms of Kisama village. Here, all the 16 major Naga tribes gather in an open air amphitheatre and take turns to show off their traditional hunting, warring, dancing and agricultural skills. The audience is largely local Naga people and a modest collection of journalists, and domestic and foreign tourists.

Travelling into Nagaland still requires the stamp of bureaucracy. You cannot enter Kohima unless you have the 10-day inner line permit given to you by the authorities at Dimapur.

If you plan to travel beyond 10 days, you need to apply for a 10-day extension from the deputy commissioner of that area. Foreigners require a Restricted Area Permit and they need to be travelling in a group of four or more. But the actual checking of the permit is relaxed during the festival and my taxi was flagged in at the Dimapur check post without a glance over at my papers.

After having gone past the various bureaucratic hoops, the exotic celebrations of the 16 exotic tribes of Nagaland seem more enthralling. But, eventually, there are not many of us outsiders here, considering the scale and splendour of this festival. Such is the general perception of Nagaland, as a troubled state with its history of insurgency that not many tourists think its worth the trouble. Even I had not included Nagaland in my North East travel itinerary and needed to fall on the assurances of my friend in Nagaland to take the plunge. But, since the ceasefire between the Government of India and NSCN (I-M) in 2007, Nagaland has become a lot safer to travel. However, it is still not safe to venture out after dark as incidents of muggings are not rare.

The Hornbill Festival itself is an effort not only to acquaint the world of the Naga’s unique culture, but also for the Nagas to learn about each other. For, so distinct are all the 16 Naga tribes from each other that before the British invaded Nagaland, each tribe was virtually its own nation, without much knowledge of the other tribes. Each tribe has a separate festival of its own. But in 2000, the Nagaland government brought them all together under the Hornbill Festival, where each tribe now participates enthusiastically.

The main attraction of the festival is the Naga dances where acts of war and hunting are performed. The Nagas have a colourful regalia and almost every Naga tribe has members adorning ornaments made of animal body parts. I was surprised to see many Nagas wearing tiger claw necklaces at a government organised event such as this. But the Nagas have been traditional hunters. To display animal body parts on their person is a tradition they carry from their forefathers, and it is intrinsic to their festivities. Considering the sensitive nature of politics in the state, the Indian Government chooses to turn a blind eye to what could have been a serious breach of wildlife norms in any other state.

The blatant use of animal body parts, such as tiger claws, has the conservationists cringing, but at the same time they are not alarmed. “It is difficult to implement the wildlife laws in states such as Nagaland. Though the tiger claws and body parts of endangered animals are used in Naga festivals, Nagaland still has its habitat intact, and unlike other states, the animals are not poached for commercial purposes,” says Ritwick Dutta, a well known environmental lawyer.

The hornbill, from which the festival takes it name, was killed to adorn the Naga headgear, but I did not see many Nagas wear the feathers of this endangered bird. They made do with sloth bear fur and artificial feathers.

The Naga dancers themselves are not Neanderthal men that every tourist would like them to be. Most of them are educated and come to participate in their traditional tribal dance. Tali Longchar, a 30-year-old dancer, is BA English from the Ao tribe, who teaches English in a school in Nagaland. Lobeno is a 20-year-old graduation student from Dimapur, who aspires to be a writer some day.

Hornbill Festival, like most cultural festivals, is essentially manufactured exotica. It is a big draw for exotica seeking tourists and for lazy journalists like myself, who get to shoot Naga tribes in their tribal finery without getting into the trouble of going into the hinterland, where the real tribes actually live. That, of course, takes a lot of perseverance, time, sweat and given the condition in Nagaland, some degree of personal risk. Unfortunately, I had stomach for none.