From Abha Anindita
MAWKYRNOT, May 5: Sustainable development, climate change mitigation, and green architecture have become ubiquitous terms globally, as the proliferation of urbanisation and concrete structures wreak havoc on the environment, precipitating climate alterations and compromising vital resources like topsoil. Similarly, in Meghalaya, the ethos of “niche tourism” has long been extolled by politicians as a mechanism to foster sustainability and safeguard delicate ecosystems, notably exemplified by the Jingkieng Jri, the remarkable living-root bridges that continue to thrive and respire.
The Living Bridge Foundation, entrenched in Pynursla, endeavours to preserve these centuries-old marvels while synergising their essence with contemporary architectural paradigms.
Morningstar Khongthaw, the foundation’s visionary founder, who forsook formal education to steward these living structures, symbolically challenging the proponents of modern architecture, has garnered international acclaim, especially since the bridges under his guardianship in and around Pynursla earned a coveted spot on the tentative list of UNESCO World Heritage sites.
However, Khongthaw voiced his dismay over the government’s oversight in consulting the pertinent stakeholders, as the Living Bridge Foundation, in tandem with the Heritage Committee, shoulders the responsibility of their conservation. The Heritage Committee, an offshoot of the Clan Committee (Landowner) of Raid Shabong, known as Khun Kur Longtrai Lai Kynthei, plays a pivotal role in this endeavour.
Khongthaw lamented, “Raid Shabong, situated within Hima Khyriem, and even the Syiem himself, were oblivious to our inclusion on the UNESCO World Heritage tentative list. Someone signed the paperwork without consulting any stakeholders.”
“We have toiled diligently for this cause, safeguarding these cultural treasures, yet the wisdom of the village elders who crafted these bridges and continue to impart their knowledge to the younger generation was disregarded, with the government opting to engage external entities,” he rued.
Nongriat has long been hailed as the epicentre of the living-root bridge phenomenon; yet nestled above a river that delineates Mawkyrnot from Rangthylliang, three bridges stand as a testament to ingenuity, including one that spans an impressive 53 meters in length, claiming the title of the world’s longest living-root bridge. These three bridges represent a fraction of the over 70 such marvels in the vicinity, with 30 alone in Rangthylliang itself.
However, the locals, in tandem with the foundation, subscribe to what is, in fancier terms, “niche tourism”, wherein the emphasis lies on “selling experience, not places”.
Descending down approximately 1,500 steps, much of which is cloaked in algae, amidst the symphony of the passing stream, one encounters the majestic Wah Niangniur, signaling the imminent encounter with nature’s grandeur. Thin roots, tiny tendrils, and roots as sturdy as pillars intertwine, forming a labyrinth upon which one treads.
They come as easy to the locals, as making a cup of ‘Sha shaw’ that they are surprised when somebody marvels at them.
Khongthaw has also been trying to make sure that an area of 50 metres around the bridges is declared as conserved zones so there’s no hampering to the roots as they can grow freely.
The foundation, with 10 close-knit friends, now, all who are friends first, have been working towards conservation and popularising the destination.
The most difficult part of conservation would be, trying to be in the 21st century, and also manage the century old traditions that go hand in hand, as the locals are of the belief, breaking the traditional customs can also be fatal to life.
Apart from spearheading the cause that one can assume is the closest to his heart, Khongthaw strives to create employment opportunities for the youth.
A geography master’s graduate from the North-Eastern Hill University, Mark Pynhunlang Thabah, besides helping tourists navigate around the bridges is helping Khonghtaw in mapping the living bridges in and around Pynursla.
Thabah doubles as one of the fourteen guides facilitating tourists’ encounters with the living-root bridges, alongside Heru, who walked along, driven by curiosity of sorts.
Though homestays are currently unavailable, Khongthaw plans to establish them soon, along with jungle huts, staying true to his ethos of “selling experience, not just a place”.
The bridges , towering close to a hundred feet above the streaming waters they traverse, crossing these aerial marvels, supported solely by the living roots of the Ficus elastica tree, instills a profound sense of humility.
The era of the living-root bridge in Riwar, born of necessity for safe crossings over monsoon-swollen streams, has passed. While steel structures offer expedience, wire-suspension bridges, despite their higher costs and maintenance needs, lack the longevity, eco-friendliness, and aesthetic allure of their organic counterparts. Yet, persuading the local populace of the merits of living architecture demands astute negotiation of ground realities, backed by robust scientific evidence, a resource sorely lacking in this discourse.