We all love traveling, don’t we? Travel offers us those raw and unfiltered experiences that make life richer. It’s where we get the chance to meet new people, share our ideas, exchange cultures, and confront our fears. And speaking of fears, I want to share a story from my time in Meghalaya, a story about a day when I lived without any fear.
The Road to Mawlynnong: The Cleanest Village in Asia
This tale begins in Mawlynnong, a small village in Meghalaya, known as the cleanest village in Asia. Now, this wasn’t just any ordinary visit. We—my two friends and I—decided to do things a little differently. While most people arrive in the village by car, we chose a more adventurous route, riding on two scooties. There were three of us, so one scooty had two riders, and I rode solo on the other, dressed casually in a vest and cargo pants.
As we cruised through the village, we couldn’t help but notice the little children waving at us with cheerful smiles. They were so excited to see us, tourists on scooties instead of the usual cars. Whether they were saying “Hi” or “Bye,” I wasn’t sure, but their energy was infectious. It felt like we were bringing a little excitement to their day, and that made our ride even more special.
A River Calling My Name
After exploring Mawlynnong, we moved on to another nearby village to book our stay for the night. On the way, I spotted a river flowing under a bridge. The clear, cool water was too tempting to ignore. I thought to myself, “Why not take a bath here?” But we were on a mission to reach the village first, so I let the idea simmer in the back of my mind.
Once we checked into our stay, the thought of that river kept nagging at me. I wanted to feel the refreshing water on my skin. So, I asked my friends, Abhishek and Asim, if they wanted to join me. Unfortunately, one of them wasn’t feeling well, and the other just wasn’t in the mood. They both passed on the idea.
Now, here I was, in a place where I didn’t speak the local language, surrounded by people who didn’t know Hindi or English. Communicating was limited to gestures and signs, and the local culture was vastly different from anything I’d experienced before. Their diet was far from the vegetarian fare I was used to—pork and other meats were the norm here. But despite all this, I was determined. I decided to go to the river alone.
The Solo Journey Begins
With nothing but the memory of that bridge and the flowing river, I hopped on my scooty and set off. I had no idea where I was headed or how far the river was from the village. I just knew that it was out there, waiting for me.
After driving for about 3-4 kilometers, I found myself in another small village. I spotted a local guy and used my improvised sign language to ask him about the river. He pointed me in the right direction and said it was about 4-5 kilometers away. His directions fueled my determination, and I set off once again, this time with even more questions swirling in my mind.
Was it safe to go alone? Would the locals mind if I joined them for a bath? What if they didn’t want an outsider intruding on their daily ritual? What if something goes wrong? All these thoughts raced through my mind as I rode on. But I pushed them aside, driven by the desire to experience something new.
Facing the Fear: The River Under the Bridge
Finally, I reached the bridge. I stopped and looked down. There it was—the river, with people gathered on its banks. Women were washing clothes, children were playing and bathing, and men were gathered in their own groups, some already in the water. The scene was serene yet intimidating. I was an outsider, and I had no idea if they would welcome me.
I stood there, debating whether to join them. The low light of the setting sun made it hard to see clearly through the dense trees, adding to the uncertainty. But then, I spotted a young guy walking up from the river. I mustered the courage to ask him, using my makeshift sign language, if I could go down for a bath. To my relief, he nodded and smiled, signaling that it was okay.
But doubt crept in again. I needed more assurance. So, I asked another guy, going down one more time, just to be sure. He smiled and said, “Yes, you can. Come with me, my friends are down there” in his local language.
His name was Lamsuk, and with a bucket in one hand and a pair of blue rubber chappals on his feet, he led the way down the stairs. As we walked, I could feel the tension easing away, replaced by a sense of adventure.
The Walk to the Water: A Test of Courage
As we approached the river, I realized I had to pass by the groups of men and women who were already bathing. The men were in their underwear, and the women were wrapped in towels or bathing robes. I couldn’t help but feel nervous. Would they accept me in their space? Would they mind a stranger joining in?
Lamsuk seemed to sense my hesitation and chose a path that took us under the trees, avoiding the main groups. This small gesture made me feel a bit more at ease. Before I knew it, we were at the starting point of the river, away from the larger crowd, where the water was crystal clear and inviting.
A Bath in the River: A Moment of Connection
Finally, I had reached the river. The cool breeze brushed against my skin, and the sound of flowing water filled the air. I couldn’t help but smile as I stepped into the river. The water was refreshing, washing away not just the dust of the day but also the fears and doubts that had been plaguing my mind.
I didn’t need to speak the local language to feel the connection. The simple act of sharing this moment with the community, even from a distance, made me feel a part of something larger. It was a reminder that despite our differences, we all share the same basic human experiences—joy, fear, and the need for connection.
But Wait, There's More to This Story
(one of those two photos which I clicked at that place. lamsuk and his friends carrying buckets. it's blurry but very special for me.)You’re probably be wondering, what happened next? Did I stay and bathe with Lamsuk and his friends? What was the reaction of the villagers? How did this experience shape the rest of my journey?Well, there’s a lot more to this story, but I’ve written the rest of it in another post: A Dip in the river and new friendships!
Go check it out to find out how this adventure ended and what I learned from my time in Meghalaya.
