I went to Champhai to meet, and engage Lalri Moitei Mawii. This was planned for months already, but specifically when was not. Finally, as time and opportunity stared me in the face, I very quickly threw my passport, visa, some small gifts, and very few clothes into a suitcase...and with the help from my great sister and equally great bro-in-law on some mechanics of how and when to launch this journey...I set the trip into motion.
What I found from the beginning is that it would be set with obstacles, and that it seemed these obstacles were only meant to test my fortitude. I became more calm with each one...truly against my old nature.
First, the airline ticket I had found on Tuesday evening for Wednesday afternoon flight at a great price...had vanished by Wednesday morning as I called my bank to clear the large transaction on my credit card...vanished due to an earthquake in Indonesia as I slept. Some variations and $250 later, and my actual ticket was secure for April 16th and 66 hours of flights and layovers, to be followed by 9 hours of jungle mountain blind curve driving to reach, in two hours, my first hotel, and the next morning the remaining driving to reach my destination at 3:30pm.
Thats a chunk of travel. 9,000 miles if you draw a straight line. I'm certain I did not travel the straight line route.
The first person of interest that I met was on the flight from Mumbai (Bombay) to Kolkata (Calcuta). His name was Dhruv, and we were able to talk shop...steel furnaces. He speaks perfect english, and he clued me in to the fact that Gowahati Int'l and Domestic airports are at different locations, and my itinerary does not indicate the details I need to know. He very graciously took me under wing...at the Kolkata break set up with his father that they would personally take me from the International to the Domestic airport on "their way home."
Dhruv's father offered his cell phone to call Moitei, which I quickly accepted, having no SIM card to function in this part of the world. They dropped me at the proper location, we exchanged contact info., and I was on my way to Lengpui Airport. Walking about 40 yards toward the building, I began to be accosted by locals looking to the American for spare Rupees, or to use "my taxi" instead of the other one; One taxi driver was even so bold, that 20 feet from the entrance to the airport building, he yelled at me "No entry there. Get in and I'll take you where you need to go." He seemed very upset when I told him that I was going in. It was at this moment when I heard my name being yelled...and running up to me with cell phone in hand, was Dhruv. Moitei had called back, and these exceptional people turned the car around to bring me their phone.
After a fast, but heartwarming important exchange, I hung up, thanked Dhruv profusely, and was again on my way into armed security at the entrance of the airport, and beyond.
On the plane from Gowahati to Aizawl, I sat with a nun; She was the hard working kind in this part of the world, not the kind who sit back on their laurels.
She was a nice lady who seemed to tolerate my sense of humor, God bless her.
It is worthy to note that although the vast majority of the Indian and Mizo people (Mizo are the tribal people in the independent Indian state of Mizoram, who have their own Mizo language, are 95% Christian, and have an Asian more than Indian appearance,) were more than pleasant if I made contact, and especially when I told them why I was travelling, or if they thought they could be of any assistance...yet, there is the smallest element of racism among the Indian and Mizo men...certain individuals who will smile at you on the surface, yet have every intention of denying you whenever possible. As long as I used my gut and had my radar on, this was not a problem. The one exception...when the muslim male flight attendant on the 9hour flight across from Mumbai to Gowahati was asked FOUR TIMES for a replacement headset because mine were completely useless - a common problem on these flights - he continued to apologize with a smile and say "OK"...but I never did get them in over four hours of waiting.
Once I landed in Aizawl, it was apparent that I was the only foreigner traveling to this remote place. Actually, the airport is in Lengpui, and the taxi ride would be another 3 hour twisting ride through the mountain jungle of what we knew as Burma in the 1960's. As I wandered aimlessly into this VERY small airport, I was finally spotted by a security guard, who spoke only enough english to determine that I needed to fill out the foreigner information document before moving out into freedom. This guard's name was about 15 letters long, but started with a Z...so, I call him "Z" for my own humor sake, and he seems to go along. He is also chewing on the local Mizoram favorite, paan, a leaf which has slightly stronger properties than nicotine or caffeine, turns the tongue and gums red while you chew it, and it is normally rubbed with some sort of white paste for taste (I couldn't suss out what this was) and wrapped around a betelnut to complete the treat. The Mizo chew this endlessly, it seems, and if you have none, just ask the next person...it's like a mint or stick of gum here. Since Moitei's mom, Vani sells much of this paan, I thought I would make conversation with Z about it, and after inital embarrassment about his red teeth and gums, I explained how I know what little I know about it. This worked well, because then he wanted to loan me his cell phone to call Moitei, and Zara, who is my contact in Aizawl. Zara spoke then to Z, who arranged the best taxi driver I have ever had; Fast, furious, and accurate through the mountain jungle terrain.
I arrived at Zara's house, where I was taken in as family, made very comfortable, had tea, talked about myself and Moitei, my trip, and met Zara's sister, mother and father. After resting a bit, they called me a taxi to get to my hotel. Zara accompanied me to assure I was comfortable there, and also had me call Moitei again on his cell. After I got settled there, Zara assured he would return to see me off in the taxi the next morning also.
After about three hours of listening to music on my laptop, plugged into the electrical converter purchased specifically for this trip, the laptop went BLACK, and would be useless for the remainder of my trip. This was supposed to be my main communication instrument. I was uncharacteristically calm about it. I was in Aizawl, Mizoram, India. After a seven hour drive through the mountains tomorrow, I was FINALLY going to have my face to face with Moitei, and become engaged. This trip was all about that, and no minor inconveniences were going to dampen my mood, especially after the 66 hours of flights I had just endured.
The next morning, Wednesday, I was up before the rooster crowed (literally...in Mizoram, you hear the rooster at 4:30am this season of year) and showered. The Aizawl hotel had hot water for the shower...but not a drop to waste...I had to be very very fast. I was packed and ready, had breakfast and was having a four-cup pot of tea when Zara arrived as promised. We had tea as we waited for the taxi to arrive, and I was on the road on time.
Moitei had her say in something very important...each time I had an extended taxi ride, she would ask to speak to the driver, or to Zara, or whoever on the trip seemed to be in charge. Like magic, I would have an english-speaking travel companion who was very gracious and friendly, and on our stops when we took food, would take me "under wing". How beautiful a woman who would think of such detail for my comfort...but this is only one example of her selfless personality and care that she shows. I took this as lucky chance at the time. Looking back, I pieced it all together, and realize that the odds of the ONLY ENGLISH SPEAKING traveler to sit beside me was very slim.
After a few moments within picking up the last taxi fare as we start out, the taxi pulls over, and one person from the taxi prays for the journey. This is a very Christian culture, and you can see it all over. I was very comfortable with their living what they believe. My own beliefs run similar. My own country is changing to make that very difficult to live...can you imagine if you asked a taxi of mixed company to pull over to pray before a three-hour journey? The Leftists would be all over that. But I digress. After several hours, we stopped in a town hotel/restaurant for food. I found it very difficult to pay for food on these stops. We sit...the owner starts bringing you food...hard boiled eggs, rice, salt, cumin and turmeric flavored chicken mizo dish, sweet pastries, egg rolls, and juice, water, tea (usually LOTS of milk and sugar already) and the occassional Coke. When it came time for the paying, I was quick enough...but they don't bring a bill...someone from the party approaches the hostess and tells what we ate. But the person would never tell me...always telling me, "you're my guest", or "don't worry about it". I was forced to learn to be gracious, having no choice.
One thing I left with some of the Mizo...they seemed intent on completely crushing the eggshell to remove it. My method has always been the disect method, wherein you break a fine line around the perimeter, remove the large end first, then the small end...two pieces. After watching me, they thought they might adopt the "Ohio" method, as I dubbed it. The Mizo are fun. They have a great sense of humor, always seem to be smiling if you greet them, and ready to help each other as a community, and as Christians. I found them to be a warm and generous, beautiful tribal people. Thank God they are so remote. The rest of the world has not infected them too bad.
As the taxi stopped at my destination in Champhai, I forgot all my goodbyes, I forgot about looking for the crazy traffic that could run me down as I exited the taxi, I forgot about my luggage and paying my fee to the driver...I looked to the left and saw Moitei sitting in a beautiful green and white top at the front of the hotel restaurant, waiting for me, and as she saw me too, she said, " Oh my God." She, to me, was the only person who existed at that moment. We hugged in the street as she came down to meet me, and she then reminded me that people were waiting on me, and to pay the driver. The hotel boy, Tattoo, had already taken my luggage , and headed to my room.
But, my lovely Moitei was so much more beautiful than all our Skype videos had allowed me to capture. This woman was, by God's plan, set aside for me all her life, and here we are. Her nature, her spirit is such that she calms me by her presence. As excited as I am to finally see her, I am also finally calmed to be with her...she really is the woman in person who she was online, and more.
My time in Champhai from then went very quickly. The only thing that I can say I truly cannot do without long term, if I were to ever move to this lovely remote haven, is hot showers. I would have to bring my own 40 gallon propane powered hot water heater...not electric...because the electrical supply is totally unreliable and overworked. All else is totally tolerable, and I learned quickly to love it.
The best of Champhai, are the people, and their nature, and willingness to be friendly. Not only to you. That would be insincere...although I felt completely warmly taken in by everyone I met; Everyone wanted a picture with me, and I felt humbled, because it was I who wanted the pictures...these beautiful people were gracious enough to invite me to their homes, and be so friendly.
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