| caption: |
journey back to Mokokchung |
| text: |
It is impossible to describe the filth of an Angami village. It was raining as we went round Kekrima and we squelched through ankle-deep mud, pig and mithan muck. In the worst places large bamboos had been laid down and Aohukhyu chivalrously leapt forward to hold my hand as I did a tight rope walk through the bog. Huge cud-chewing mithan were tied up under the porches of the biggest houses. Now that the crops are coming on, they are brought in from the forest, grazed like cows and then tied up for the night under the eaves. |
