NORTHEAST INDIA
GREAT ESCAPE
M
IST IS SHROUDING THE
wooded slopes of the
Khasi Hills, and the
villagers of Nongriat
are setting out for work.
Men are heading for their fields, hessian
sacks slung over their shoulders, machetes
dangling from their waistbands, while
women prepare breakfast or go down to the
river to wash clothes. Chickens scratch in
the undergrowth, and jungle sounds echo
in the steamy air: the chatter of songbirds,
the honks of hornbills, the occasional boom
of a gibbon down in the valley. But there’s
another noise that jangles in the background
like a musical refrain: the sound of water.
For the people here, life revolves around
water. Rainfall from the nearby Shillong
Plateau is funnelled down canyon walls,
nourishing the vegetation, and providing
the villagers with a never-ending drinking
source. It’s dry season now, and the rivers
and waterfalls around Nongriat have
tapered to a trickle, but it’ll be a different
story in a few months’ time, when the first
rains arrive and the monsoon begins.
‘For most of the year, the spot where
you’re standing is six feet underwater,’
explains local guide Batskhem Wahlang,
gesturing across the dried-up riverbed as he
hops over boulders with the sure-footedness
of a mountain goat. ‘It’s peaceful now, but
during the monsoon, the river is a wild
animal – unpredictable and dangerous.’ He
reaches the far bank and looks up the valley,
where the slopes rear up sheer as a sea cliff.
During the monsoon, Batskhem says, the
cliff becomes a wall of water, thundering
into the valley in plumes of vapour.
Running along the southern border of
Meghalaya state, overlooking the flat deltas
of Bangladesh, the Khasi Hills are one of the
wettest places on Earth. During the monsoon
between May and November, the area
receives some of the world’s heaviest
storms: in an average year, 12 metres of rain
falls here, 16 times the rainfall of London.
The nearby town of Cherrapunjee still holds
the record for the highest amount of rain in
a single year: 26.4 metres in 1860–1861.
Swollen by the deluge, the area’s rivers
triple or quadruple in size. Streams become
surges, trickles become torrents, but the
War Khasi people have found an ingenious
solution to the problem: living bridges
created from the roots of rubber trees.- Khasi Hills
Monsoon floods are a fact of life in the mountains along
the Bangladeshi border, but local tribes have engineered
their own ingenious solution to the problem
‘We call this Ritymmen,’ Batskhem says.
‘Long root bridge.’ He points towards the
riverbed where a bridge spans the banks,
marked at each end by a giant rubber tree.
Its banisters and rails are formed from the
trees’ intertwined roots, woven together
like the strands of a steel cable.
‘This is the longest root bridge – 95 feet.
Locals think it’s 200 years old. Personally,
I think it might be older.’ He steps onto the
bridge, holding on to the knotted banister
with one hand. ‘Don’t worry, it’s safe,’ he
says, laughing. ‘If it can survive the
monsoon, it can take our weight.’
There are nine such bridges in the Khasi
Hills. Constructing them is a laborious
process: even the fastest-growing take two
decades to complete, and constant care is
required to ensure they remain healthy
enough to survive the monsoon onslaught.
But once they’re finished, the bridges are
very long-lived: the oldest are more than five
centuries old. Most are single-span, but
there’s one – the Double Decker bridge near
Nongriat – which has two levels, with a
third currently in the works.
‘When I look at these bridges, I feel very
proud of my people,’ says Batskhem, as he
treks back up towards the road. ‘If you ask
me, they’re a wonder of the world.’Descend from the hills and drive northeast to
Kaziranga National Park, a journey of around
five hours.A few miles from Nongriat, beside the village
of Laitkynsew, Cherrapunjee Holiday Resort
serves as somewhere between a hotel and a
homestay. It’s surrounded by gardens, has valley
views and offers simply furnished rooms. Rates
include dinner, with local dishes like jadoh stem
chicken and fried brinjal (aubergine) on the menu
(rooms from £45; cherrapunjee.com).
It’s a leg-sapping 90-minute slog down to the
root bridges, plus another two hours back up.
Local guides charge about £10.Essentials