JOIN USNo spot to miss
Driving through the dusty, congested single road of lower Shillong’s township, it’s hard to believe that Asia’s cleanest, prettiest village, Mawlynnong (mah-lin-ong), is a short drive away.
Once you leave the crowded urban area and start winding through the lush pine-scented forests, and climb and descend with the gentle rise and fall of the Khasi hills, the air becomes fresh. The only sounds here are the call of birds, a gushing stream down in the valley, and the occasional vehicle revving up the slopes.
An hour-and-a-half into the drive, we turn off the main road and progress down a narrow lane, lined on both sides by thickets of swaying synsar reeds, ready to burst into soft fronds as the winter approaches.
We are deep in the Khasi hills that are dotted by invisible little villages that snuggle inside the forests or sprawl down on the valley by a river or perch high up, clinging to a mountain slope.
“Clean village? This way,” directs every single person we ask, with a smile, making us wonder at placid acceptance of the other village’s title.
We sweep along the surprisingly smooth road, and finally pull up at a broad square, surrounded by picket fences barely able to contain colourful cascades of bougainvillea, frangipani and hydrangea, and little tea shops like those in little English villages with ‘Tea & Scones’ signposts tempting you in.
We have reached the village of Mawlynnong, a collection of some 85 houses with fewer than 500 inhabitants, which is today acclaimed as the ‘Cleanest Village in Asia’. True to its title, it boasts of squeaky clean public spaces, where large bamboo cones are hung to deposit garbage, spotless cemented pathways, clean drains and a profusion of flowers in bloom that is kissed by butterflies and humming bees.
Love & order
Curious to know how this revolution happened in a place with scant access to education and modern facilities, we get friendly with a young man of the village. Robertson, 21, remembers things starting to change when he was around four or five years old.
The local school then had a teacher named Rishot, who would educate the villagers to keep their homes and surroundings clean by segregating and disposing garbage.
With encouragement and enforcement from rangbahshnong (headman) Tomlin, the village began to practise strict cleanliness routines, which they continue today.
Every single speck of paper, plastic and non-biodegradable refuse is collected in bamboo baskets that dot every lane, and carried away by Municipal trucks that visit the place twice a week. Everything else is tipped into compost pits and allowed to become rich manure for garden purposes.
As the main livelihood of the villagers is cultivation, this compost is well utilised to grow cash crops like betel and bay leaf, and fruits like oranges, papaya and kiwi, and all the vegetables for their own needs and, to sell.
Significantly, there is no livestock in the village. But why? Robertson gives me a surprised look. “Cattle and poultry create dirt,” he says, “No dirt in Mawlynnong!”
The village is connected to Shillong town by a private Sumo that leaves every morning at 6.30 am and returns by 4.30 pm. The villagers use this service to shop for their needs like milk, staples, eggs and meat, and to sell their produce in the market.
Robertson smiles and reveals, “But fish and rice are our main food. We get fresh fish by walking about 40 minutes to the Bangladesh border. There we often exchange our produce for their fish.”
The revolution in Mawlynnong was given a fillip about 10 years ago when MLA Prestone Tynsong was elected to power. He built the tarred approach road to the village and ensured Municipality services reached them, installed road lighting, and importantly, made the Rural Employment Scheme NREGA work here. All the roads within the village and the drains have been built through this scheme.
The villagers say that they felt happy to be paid to improve their own village. The village is administered by a Village Epiphany Society, a group of 12 members who meet to discuss and decide democratically.
Today, with tourist attention turned on this village, its people have risen to the occasion and built small restaurants, which serve chai and local food, a guest house and some homestays for a rustic experience.
The roads are well lit up at night and create a magical feel to the whole ambience. Tourist groups often prefer to come to this pristine surrounding at night and let their hair down.
As we walk around, admiring the neat cottages surrounded by lush gardens and bamboo fences and the different churches for the Presbyterians and the Roman Catholics (there are practically no pagan worshippers or seng khasis left unconverted here), we come upon a bamboo ramp leading to a platform almost 20 feet high.
Our young guide asks us to buy tickets and then takes us up to the view point. He points out the Wah Umka river, the Bangladesh border, and other interesting landmarks.
“This bamboo structure is made afresh every year to ensure it’s absolutely safe,” he asserts and states, “It costs about Rs 80,000, and we use the proceeds from the ticket sales to buy the bamboo, and tie them together with our own hands.”
The average income of each household is about Rs 5,000 per month and the number of members per family may be, at maximum, 10. They practically live off the land, using firewood to cook and washing clothes in the stream.
But interestingly, the soap suds are siphoned off the washing area by a hose pipe, thereby ensuring that the chemicals do not enter the fresh water stream! How much more socially responsible could a community be?
Leading a way
Robertson has studied till the fourth standard, but speaks English passably well. He says that unfortunately, the local school has only upper and lower primary classes. For higher education, the students have to walk half an hour to the village of Nongtaur.
There are even some studying in colleges in Shillong, but for him, it remains a distant dream. For the present, he helps the family in their cultivation and plays football with boys of nearby villages. When we tip him, he says that this will go into his bank account so that someday, who knows, he may be able to study further.
As we leave, we look back and know one thing for sure. That if the village of Mawlynnong could dream a dream and become a model village for all of India, then this young man would surely achieve his dreams.