Word: kamenge
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...engineers' punishment posting is one of the reasons for my presence in Arunachal Pradesh, a northeastern Indian state. I had joined an expedition to raft down the Kameng, a savage, white-water river, which roars out of the high Himalayas through jungle canyons that are home to wild elephants, hundreds of orchids and three different species of leopards and tarantulas. The engineers' mission is to divert a tributary of the Kameng and harness its hydroelectricity, and this would be one of the last chances to raft the river before it loses its quicksilver fury. (See pictures of the turning points...
...Kameng is also territory of the Nishi. Fierce forest dwellers, the Nishi wear a bird-beak hat (a fashion trend that has driven the Great Indian Hornbill to near extinction in Arunachal), carry a long sword and wear a stuffed rodent around the neck to ward off evil jungle spirits. I'm hoping to see real Nishis on home turf, not the sorry figure wobbling in the alley below...
...Among my companions on this 12-day expedition are India's foremost expert on snakes and crocodiles, Romulus Whitaker, and his wife Janaki. They effuse about the hills along the Kameng being aslither with the incredibly venomous pit viper. Between the Nishis, the tarantulas, the leopards and the pit vipers, I begin to wonder if a trip down the Kameng is more than I'd bargained on. Luckily, our expedition is led by two of India's most skilled river guides, Yousuf Zaheer and Anvesh Singh Thapa, who supply cooks, tents and the oarsmen who will steer our inflatable rafts...
...Within minutes, we hear the roar of rapids around a bend, and the jade-green Kameng turns into a washing machine tossing us around like dirty socks. Giant boulders rush toward us; the raft bucks and rears in the waves, spinning dangerously on the edge of a giant hole that appears in the water. "Left Forward! Hard!" shouts Eamon Maddocks, our guide, as a wave crashes over the bow, submerging us in a sparkling effervescence, an icy electricity. From far away, I discern Eamon's voice, yelling "Paddle! Paddle!" And I do, furiously...
...next seven days, I never stop paddling as we descend nearly 70 stretches of rapids. There are moments of respite when the Kameng turns back into smooth jade, and we have time to ponder the misty jungle around us. An occasional hornbill glides by, its wings sounding like flapping canvas. Romulus finds plenty of leopard footprints in the sand around our camps, but no sign of the owners or the pit vipers. One night, we try to keep a sentry fire burning all night in the rain to scare off wild elephants. The fire gutters out, but luckily the elephants...