Megalith photos

I see that the standing stones didn't post for some reason. Sooooo, here they are.

India's megaliths

Check out those stones!!!!

This is an area of India that the British called Little Scotland. The books all say it is because the hilly mountains, streams and forests are a reminder of Scotland. That may be true, but I think they called it Little Scotland becaue of the megalithic stones that can be found in many places. These are amazing. They are products of the Khasi Tribe. This tribe, which is one of the major tribes in this area still holds these stones sacred. Still, when one of great importance dies, a large stone is put up in their honor. Such a stone rising requires great ceremony and sacrifice. They sacrifice chickens and goats and have great ritual.

The stones are still greatly honored and there are still rituals done at them. They are very sacred; there are stories of people wanting to move one to another location and after they moved it and got home . . . they died. So the stone was taken back to its original location and put back up.

There are stones you can see in the villages we drove by. We saw one area fenced off with about 6-8 pretty large standing stones in it. I said it looked like a family graveyard in Kentucky.

Today or tomorrow we’re going to an area that has the largest standing stones in the area.

This really, really did remind me of the stones we saw in Scotland and Ireland.

The Khasi people still worship the sun, hold the forest to be sacred, and hold nature to be divine. Some of the people who are still active in the Kharsi Tribe have fly flags from their homes that are red with a white circle in the center, and in the circle is a red rooster. This is because there was a time when the sun left the earth. All the animals got together and tried to talke the sun into coming back. None, not even the humans, the elephants, the rhinos, or anyone could get the sun to come back. A rooster said “Let me try.” All the other animals laughed and asked “How’s a little bird like you going to call the great, mighty sun back.” The rooster said, “Please, let me try.” So, it went off and a little while later the sun came back to earth and life was able to continue. Since that time the rooster has been the sign of the Khasi people.

This area is about 5000 feet above sea level, and the people, rather than what we think of as Indian features, are more mongoloid or asian in their looks. Walking through one of the small villages reminded me of the people in the High Andes. The way they dressed, the way they looked and the whole sense was like we were back in Bolivia in the alto plano of the Andes. WOW, Scotland and Brazil all in one small area.

The bad news is that to drive 26 kilometers took us over 2 hours!!!! Tiny roads, more traffic than I’ve ever seen on a small road, and curves, curves, curves make for a journey that averages about . . . slow, slow slow.

It is lovely hear. But I got car sick for the first time in about 10 years. I found that I packed my “patches” and have one on. I hope that even though they are expired they’ll work just fine.

Well, I need go to see if reception is open yet so I can try to rent a phone card to get this and the other post I wrote actually posted.

We’re getting anxious to be back home again. It’s lovely here, but as Dorothy said “There’s no place like home.”

[I was only able to post one of my photos. It took half an hour to post these two posts I had already written and just pasted here and to load one photo]

Update on trip

Driving to Shilong

We’re on our way to Shilong at the beginning of a 7 hour or so drive. We have to go most of the way to Guwahati and then head south. So, I’ll take some time now to try to catch up.

Yesterday, Thursday the 31st of March was a day in which we were going to pick up a couple shirts that Stuart had made at a local weaving shop. This is a wonderful shop/school. The owners of the hotel we are staying at Iora, bought 6 or 8 large looms and gave them to the Sell Help Group. What this group does is teach local women/girls how to weave so that they can make some money for themselves. The lady who runs it is a wonderful, warm, and amazing lady. She was a school teacher but quit that job to run this group because she wanted to help the local women. They take several months teaching the women how to weave beautiful material. They weave cotton and three types of silk. Stuart had them make three shirts for him. They are beautiful cotton shirts with great designs on them. I’m sure he’ll wear them at the Retreat (as I will the ones I bought in Guwahati). The cotton short sleeved shirts (he picked out the fabric that was woven there, and picked the shirts up the next day. They didn’t quite fit, so they took them back and we picked them up the next day and they fit great) for about $9-$10 each. The silk long-sleeved, long tailed shirt was much more expensive. The material is about twice the cost of the labor for the cotton and the silk was much more expensive for the material.

Before we got to the shop to pick up the shirts, our local guide, also called Somnot, stopped by his house. He wanted to share an experience with us. The front part of his (I believe it is his extended family’s house) yard was surrounded in very pretty fabric or canvas and roofed with fabric or tarp. It was all colored and designed. He explained that his cousin’s daughter had begun her menses 11-13 days ago and this was the ritual/celebration of her entering womanhood. We took off our shoes and entered the enclosure. They had plastic chairs set up for us and we sat down. There was a ring of about 17-23 men with the young girl part of it. They were all chanting/singing in Hindi from the ancient sacred texts. There was a small altar with fire and other objects on it. The singing had started before we got there.

Almost as soon as we sat down, they brought us tea because we were their guests. They said we could take photos if we wanted to (I took one but I think Stuart took several). The father of the girl came over and proudly told us he was the father and introduced his wife, the girl’s mother. They were both very proud of their daughter and very happy we were there and thanked us for coming. (Again, this seemed very, very sincere.) Outside of the ring of men there were a group of women observing . The ring of men were family members and neighbors who had come together for this celebration. It was very, very touching to me and I found myself with tears in my eyes several times (and even writing this and remembering it, I am very touched). It was such a loving, happy, joyous celebration of this girls transition to a new time in her life.

The girl’s father, our guide’s cousin, again came over and told us that he too was a guide. He brought out the issue of the National Geographic from last year that had a big article about Kaziranga National Park, and pointed to the area in which the writer of the article talked about his guide by name, and it was him! He was very proud of this.

Then the men’s singing was over and we were told it was time to leave. We got out shoes and the mother and the father came over and thanked us for coming, shook our hands and were sad to see us go. We were told that it was now time for the women to come together for their part of the ceremony.

The love, the family, the community, and the sharing was amazing and touched my heart in ways it hasn’t been touched before. This experience combined with our experiences in the ethnic village gave me an understanding I’ve not had before of the closeness of extended families and of communities. The connection between cousins, nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc. is like the best of connections of families that are functional. It also helps me understand how family/tribal societies are so totally different than what us westerners can understand; and why their is such a lack of understanding of the politics and culture by those of us in the US and the US government of tribal people’s like the mideast and Iraq, Afghanistan, etc. have.

The separate lives we live is totally beyond the comprehension of these people. Som, our friend/guide, has a brother that lives in Norway with his wife and children. Som’s sister-in-law is a home health nurse who visits the elderly who live alone and in homes for the elderly. When Som came back and was talking to his friends in Delhi, they did not believe, or comprehend how old people could be alone and not surrounded by family. It wasn’t that they couldn’t believe it as much as they couldn’t even grasp the idea of it. Such things are so foreign to the way of life here.

Also, this is a culture in which hospitality to guests and strangers is a way of life. It is like once you have been hosted by a family or person, you are their friend and a part of their life. And, unlike my experiences of “hospitality” in Turkey and other areas of the world, there is absolutely nothing expected in return. This isn’t a culture of “I gave you a gift, now you must give me a gift.” It seems to be a culture of “you are my guest, so I want to treat you like family.” This is pure hospitality, I think this must be like what was part of the ancient celtic/Scottish world. And that’s one of the reasons why the massacre of clan MacDonald by those who they had fed and given a place to sleep was so horrible.

This has been an amazing experience in ways that I had never expected. What a gift that is. Well, that’s about all I have to say about that wonderful aspect of the trip.