The small hamlet, now called New Ram Terang sits amidst paddy fields, banana groves and the low Karbi hills. It is too small to be called a village by Indian standards, but then national standards are rarely applicable in the north-east. Karbi Anglong, the largest district of Assam is an autonomous tribal homeland and to most people are the hills that you see from Kaziranga or indeed from National Highway 37 as you drive between Guwahati and Jorhat. The hills themselves were called the Mikir Hills by the British but after independence was renamed Karbi Anglong — the Homeland of the Karbis. Nineteen houses sit on a slight hillock and there is a buzz of activity emanating from atop. Zoom in closer and suddenly the rather staid Karbi hamlet turns into a frenzy of red and white as men and women scurry around trying to finish what seems to be last minute preparations. A line of youngsters dressed in traditional attire ready the drums. Women practise hand clapping and feet tapping. And, as if from nowhere the sound of a dozen cars fill the air and a cavalcade draws up. Dignitaries stream out. They are from the government, from the Wildlife Trust of India, and from the donor agency Elephant Family. The drums begin to beat; the totem pole is punched repeatedly into the air as a raddledy-taggledy line of villagers lead the outsiders to their new homes.
Pause and rewind
Five years ago the village was situated lower down, six kilometres away. Right amidst the ripening fields of paddy. Right on the route of migrating elephants and conflict was a daily grind. The paddy had to be guarded and the same goes with bananas too. But how could that happen day and night when determined elephants, finding their centuries old route from Kaziranga to Nagaland through the autonomous tribal hills of Karbi Anglong, would wind through their crops?
There were fences, which were pulled down by elephants. There were firecrackers flung by the villagers. There were the deafening trumpeting of the pachyderms and the shrieks of the fleeing village guard. Once in a while a tragedy would happen and an old person or a lady would get killed. Roads would be blocked in protest. Local politicians would promise the earth and then melt away as the moment passed. And life would come back to normal. Till the next paddy season. And the next time the elephants returned.
This was when Wildlife Trust of India (WTI) came into the picture. We started with help from the Japan Tiger and Elephant Fund and put a sociologist who worked with the farmers to help mitigate conflict. An electric fence came up in a strategic place, a fence of chillies was tried out, a local Elephant Cup football tournament made the locals think of the elephant favourably and some aid for the village was also given.
But all this was not permanent. If you are directly in an elephant corridor, in the path of migrating behemoths, there is only one thing to do. To move away. And thus came Elephant Family (EF), the NGO set up by Mark Shand, a brother-in-law of Prince Charles. Mark was passionate about elephants as also about India, especially Assam. We went to Karbi together and laid the plans for the new village. The plan was simple. Give the villagers a traditional, yet much better village option than the one they had. Who would not jump at that offer? The villagers of Ram Terang certainly did. WTI and EF had offered a perennial solution to an age old problem.
With the beating of drums, the traditional king of Karbi Anglong laid the foundations for the new village a year ago. The new houses were then consecrated. Within the next few months, the village would move, one house at a time into their new homes. As I ceremonially handed over the bunch of keys to the Gaon buurrha, the head of the village, there was a raucous cheer from the assembled crowds. Ruth Powys, the head of EF after Mark’s demise looked on smiling broadly. The local Karbi heads, past and present, applauded the village for moving their homes for the elephants. The international media would hail the move as one for the conservation of pachyderms.
But I knew their secret. The villagers of Ram Terang would sleep much better now that they did not have to guard their crops four months every year from elephants. A peaceful sleep did more to people’s lives than development ever did. Their smiles were for that peace. And the peace they had just bought with their elephants.
The author is a wildlife conservationist, author and photographer is Founder and Executive Director of WTI and a Senior Advisor to the International Fund for Animal Welfare
