PART 1 Journey to a bat cave
Even though the hills of Bangladesh are nothing compared to the mighty hills of Beluchistan, they are still equally fascinating. What they lack in grandeur is easily made up by their beauty and mystery. So every trip I make to our humble hills is equally fascinating today as it was in my childhood days. So with great excitement, my two other friends Enam Talukder and Rifat and I headed for the hills of Bandarban on the night of April 26, 2007 on a ten-day trekking. Our objective was to explore a remote bat cave in a place called Remakri. Enam is a pilot of Biman while Rifat is a graphic designer and myself a dentist and a nature filmmaker. Although professionally we have nothing in common, but the love for the mountains and the nature united the three of us. After a full night's travel, we reached the small city of Bandarban at six in the morning. Our guide and our long time friend Mong Kheya was there to greet us as usual. As we transferred our luggage to the rented four-wheel drive, Mong Kheya informed us that we must first go to the house of Lapru-sue, another close friend of ours. A huge Marma breakfast was awaiting us. Lapru-sue also happenned to be the key organizer of this trip. We were hoping that he would be able to join us, but some other important work prevented him from doing so. Although we were disappointed by his inability to accompany us, he assured us that every arraignment had been made for us to travel onward. After about three hours of Jeep ride we reached the small outpost of Thanchi. This is where the next phase of our journey began. True to his words, Lapru-sue had arranged a boat and two boatmen for us. Two young Marma men greeted us as soon as our jeep came to a halt near the stony riverbank of Sangu. Although this was my second trip on this trail, the sight of the dugout boat filled my heart with excitement. Now I finally knew that this trip was happening.
Around sunset we reached a small Marma settlement called Tendu. Our lead boatman Aung-shoy immediately set upon finding a place for us to stay for the night. Tendu was a small friendly place and securing a place to bunk for the night was no problem. We found a small eatery run by one of Aung's relatives that has a comfortable accommodation on top. From an external view, the structure looked somewhat precarious to me, but as I entered this bamboo structure, I realized the robustness of this hut. Solid logs held the whole structure from within. To me it felt like that even the severest of storm wouldn't be able to topple it. Except for the external design, almost all tribal homes are built this way. Each tribe has its own style of constructing a hut. Therefore, it's fairly easy to tell by the look of the structures what tribe the owners are. Even the location of a village can be a clue to the identity of the tribe. The Marma tribesmen would very rarely build their village away from the main river channel, while the Khumi tribesmen prefers the highest point on the hill, and the Mru tribesmen the remotest of location. So if you are invited to visit a Khumi village, make sure you have enough strength in your legs, while if a Mru invites you, make sure you not only have strength in your legs but also perseverance. We were back on our way after a good night of rest at Tendu and stopped our boat at a point in the river with a huge rock fall area. The rocks that straddles across the river was revered by most of the tribes here, and one huge rock in particular called Bawng-daw meaning king rock is considered sacred. This area is well forested and full of birds and wildlife and so we decided to spend a full day here. Our two boatmen, Aung-shoy and Kong-la, were instructed not to disturb us until late evening when we would decide whether to continue further or to spend the night here among these rocks. Our decision to spend time here was rewarded immediately as we found rare birds nesting in the forest nearby. As instructed, the two boatmen showed up at around five in the evening but with a boat full of surprise. I was really amazed by the versatility of this Aung-shoy guy. He had almost single-handedly managed to catch eight large carp like fishes from the stony crags in the river. With such good luck, we decided to spend the night here among the rocks in style. Two large rocks in the river were chosen as our tent pitching ground and we set about making ourselves comfortable for the night. As soon as our tent pitching was complete, Aung-shoy, Kong-la, and Mong Kheya set about preparing our dinner.
In my years of travel through the hinterland of our hill tract, I cannot recollect a more memorable meal than this one. I knew that Marmas were excellent cook, but nothing prepared me for the dishes that were spread in front of us tonight. Flame-grilled fish marinated with wild herbs, tender fish-eggs cooked in a bamboo joint with fragrant spices collected from the forest, fresh green edible leaves collected from the forest served with a fiery hot sauce to be eaten as an accompaniment to our meal. Our rice was served in banana leaves instead of plates. Simply brilliant! I was truly amazed at the culinary expertise of our humble boatman Aung-shoy. After that fantastic meal, we moved back to the rock top where our tents were and lay down to enjoy the cool night breeze and a half-moon. Here, the only sounds to interrupt my melancholy thoughts were the twirling of water against the rocks flowing through the mountain stream. Soon I heard a distant call of Mountain Scopes Owl. Instinctively, I pulled out my sound recording gear and played back a previous recording of its call into the stillness of the night. Almost immediately the bird responded by flying past me in a bullet-like speed. Although I have recorded this call on one of my previous trips, but I was not able to see the bird. So tonight was my best chance to connect the call with the bird. After a few repetition of the call, the bird landed at a nearby tree and I was able to look at it with a spot light for the first time while it was calling. Late into the night as I entered into my tent and lay down, I heard a gunshot nearby. Startled, I sat erect in my tent. Enam Talukder enquired about the origin of the sound with a slight alarm in his voice. I reasoned that there must be a hunter hunting nearby. Then after about five more minutes or so, all hell broke loose. My initial feeling was that a third world war had broken out and we were in the middle of it. Fortunately, the noise died down in half a minute or so and we realized what had happened. Rocks falling off the cliff! A sense of unease settled over our tent as we pondered our next course of action. We debated the idea of relocation, but our laziness prevailed over our sense of caution and we fell back to sleep. ....................................................
©thedailystar.net 2007 |
A
We made a short trip to the local bazaar and purchased our supplies for the next ten days and then set out immediately. Our boat could barely accommodate our luggage, the two boatmen and us. Yet once the boat started moving we soon forgot the apparent discomfort of our cramped condition. The scenery all around was spectacular. A succession of rolling green hills interspersed with jhum cultivation and pockets of forest lined our way. This was such a complete change of scenery for our eyes accustomed to the chaotic scenes of city life.