Geetanjali Dhar, a dear friend of the Help Tourism family, went on an exciting journey to attend one of India’s most brilliant festivals: The Winter Festival at Pangsau Pass in Arunachal-Pradesh.
Thanks, Geetanjali, for your enthralling story!
Pangsau Pass Winter Festival 2013 – a melting pot of ethnic diversity and
“Lake Of No Return” conjures up various notions in one’s mind. For me it was
more of a romantic idea of just fading away into a world of no return. Having read
so much about this beautiful lake and the legends associated with it, the sole
purpose of mine travelling to be part of the Pangsu Pass Winter Festival tour was
the chance of visiting this lake.
PPWF happens every year from 20th to 22nd January .The festival is a cultural
hot pot, showcasing the vivid diversity and ethnic heritage of the various tribes of
the region. It provides a platform for tourists to experience a slice of the bygone
times, by showcasing the colorful and lively tribes in all their traditional glory.
This January, I had the opportunity to visit the serene and historic village of
Napong, which hosts the festival. Started in the year 2007 with the involvement
of Tangsa,Khamti and Singpho communities, with Help Tourism being the
facilitator in fostering the friendship between the neighboring tribes of Mynamar
and the Arunachalis to help in spreading the message of peace with tourism as
the binding form to preserve and nurture the Biodiversity Hotspot of the East
Himalayas along the Indo-Myanmar region. This year they joined hands with
the NGO Nature’s Beckon in organizing the bicycle rally named Burma Road
Expedition, to spread the message of conservation.
Our small group of travellers met at Dibrugarh on 19th January 2013. All of us
stayed at a no frills hotel “Monalisa”.We did a bit of shopping around the market
area. And I had my usual fare of chats in the form of Aloo Tikki and Bhel Puri.
Next on 20th Jan 2013, Tipu , an always smiling driver picked us from the hotel,
early in the morning in his SUV. As instructed by Shishir, a member of Help
Tourism, we were to reach Lekhapani in time to witness the inauguration of the
Bicycle expedition which was to start from the Assam Rifles ground. Twelve
cyclists including two jawans were part of the team which was to pedal upto
After the inaugural run, we drove towards Jairampur where our camping stay was
set up for the next three nights. We reached the campsite to the very welcoming
lunch fare prepared by Biblu, who can pamper your stomach day in and day out
with awesome fare .Post lunch we visited the hanging bridge and the floating
restaurant .The same night the first of the event of PPWF was to begin in the
center of the town of Jairampur.The tiny hamlet was well lit with a festive mood.
We made a quick round of all the stalls and tasted few of the local delicacies
sold in one of the food stalls. After the inauguration we went back to our camp
site spent a good amount of time interacting with other guests along with Raj Basu,one of the founder of Help Tourism who I would prefer to call as “The
best story teller from the East”. We learnt so much about the region through the
anecdotes that he has gathered over the years travelling all over the Eastern
Himalayas. With the day well spent, we slept the night away. I ,of course with a
hope of visiting the Lake Of No Return, the next day.
We started off early the next day. The pass to cross the border was getting
processed while we waited for the main event to take off in Nampong. We
sampled some amazing tribal cuisine, and experienced some truly memorable
customs and cultural activities. Time seems to have frozen in this idyllic land and
the humble and friendly tribesmen with their amazing hospitality and their laid
back life seems to have cast a spell on all of us.
Then started a flurry of activities, as our group was informed that we had to
collect our passes to cross over to Myanmar and so we rushed off to the army
check post. It was quite a tussle to jostle our way through the crowd and getting
ourselves a token for our vehicle that would help us to cross over to Myanmar.
We were in for more adventure. At the next check post we were asked to
get off our vehicle and travel by foot for the next two kms, as there was of all
things- a traffic jam ! Must say that was a little unexpected. After trudging on
bravely through a barely there muddy road, we managed to reach the next gate
where we were greeted by another long winding queue of people waiting to get
their passes. Lady luck it seemed was smiling in our direction that day and a
chance encounter with one of the army personnel who forbade us from clicking
photographs (although there wasn’t any sign or notice that said so) When I had
the presence of mind to point this out, he immediately apologized and made
it upon to us by letting us jump the queue by himself preparing the pass. Talk
about army chivalry!
Then came the next pebble in the shoe. We had by this time, split into different
groups and the five kms walk across the no man’s land that led to Myanmar, was
better off crossed by pillion riding on some rickety bikes that seemed to have
sprung out of thin air. The bike riders made quite a kill charging everone Rs 200
for two for the measly 5 kms. Since beggars can’t be choosers we hung on to our
dear life. Chaos reined with some us on foot and some of us on the bikes .Once
we reached the border, the pass was handed over to the army personnel on the
other side and we proceeded to the helipad from where we had our first glimpse
of the Lake of No Return. But it seems that lady luck had got a little tired of us
and we were not given permission to visit the lake. It was quite a big blow for me,
as this was to be one of the highlights of my trip.
We then decided to visit the colorful local markets or bazaars as they are known,
though my heart was still with the Lake of No Return. Not a person to take a NO
easily, my mind was working out strategies as to how to go near the lake, with
little attention as to what was being sold in the bazaar where everyone seems to
be more interested in. I decided to stroll around after buying a pack of Burmese Chiroot as a souvenir, intermittently asking people around as to how to reach the
lake. Then a Burmese security guard appeared before me like manna from
heaven, and offered to help me. We were not to take the usual route that
everyone takes to reach the lake during the festival, instead hire the bikes and
ride through the Pangsu Village downhill along the paddy fields.This was the
opportunity I did not want to let go, though a nagging fear of what will happen if
something happens to us four ladies was constantly buzzing. Nor was I suppose
to leave everyone else and go for this adventure alone. Without giving much
chance to others to even think as to what was happening, I stuck a deal with the
two bikers with the help of the guard for Rs.200 per bike to reach us to
the lake .We rode over narrow winding roads overlooking the scenic village of
Pangsu. After around five kms we were told we reached..but in reality we were to
tread another 5 kms or so of no road ,no path terrain to actually go near the lake.
So it was all about language problem. The small village shop where the bikers
decided to drop us off was selling roasted fish with local brew and few nick-
knacks. It was sort of a saving grace as one villager there could manage to
converse with us in broken Hindi as he often crossed border into India as a
labour worker.I used him as my translator to bargain a deal with the bikers to
reach us to the lake. And a deal was stuck for Rs.500 for the entire trip back to
After a tumultuous five kms of ride we finally reached the point where we had to
cross the slushy patch and walk towards the lake. It was adventurous and risky
as we were in an unknown land, with unknown boys but then sometimes intuition
plays a big role while trusting people with your life. Or does it?
Then as we came face to face with the lake, it seemed worth every moment of
our little adventure. It was a magical place, mesmerizing us with its sheer beauty.
It is one of those places where you lose track of everything happening around
you and the only thing that matters is the visual extravaganza in front of your
eyes. I spent a few moments reveling in the peace and solitude that was like a
soothing balm to my soul. Darkness was closing in upon us and halfheartedly we
decided to go back. As we headed back, we looked back to capture the beauty of
the landscape for one last time. As we headed back, all of us carried within us a
slice of memory which will stay with us for a long time.
The next day, we revisited the war cemetery at Jairampur. It laid before us a
silent testament to the people who had gone beyond their call of duty and laid
down their lives for their country in the war against the Imperial Japanese Army.
Discovered in the year 1997 the Jairampur graveyard must have been made
during the construction of Stilwell Road from India to Kunming in China via
Myanmar to facilitate easy transit for the Allied Forces. Fatigue, calamity, scarcity
of food and diseases like malaria killed many of the soldiers and workers during
that period. We sent our silent prayer to the almighty for cemetery to be brought
out of its obscurity and the bodies that lay below there to have a dignified resting
We reached the festival venue again to sample some village life of various tribes
as their huts were displayed in the festival ground. It was time to savor their
quaint customs and culture. We explored the rustic tribal huts, each bearing the
distinct style of the tribe who made it. Later in the day we visited the lush green
Rima village.Later in the evening, we headed back to the festival venue to attend
the night inauguration of a couple of speeches,programs and dances. After an
enthralling Bihu performance we decided to call it a day and returned to the
The day of our departure from the festival we were extremely lucky to meet up
with Mr.Paitang Tikak ,the only surviving WWII veteran from the region.Nearly
ninety years old he spends his time with his large family.
This trip has given me a collage of colorful memories to pin up on the wall of my
mind forever. The winding lanes, the big hearted people, the ever-present lush
foliage, shimmering rivulets, the serene lakes, nimble footed animals galloping
past us , the fragrance of rare orchids and the multi colored butterflies flitting
among us ,the visuals are countless. This combined with the unforgettable
ethnic tribal experience, the eventful trip to the Lake of No Return and the festival
made this trip truly nostalgic.