Longzang is not a famous village. To my knowledge, its name never appears in any of the well-known 19th and 20th century European travelogues or anthropology texts dealing with the Konyaks. A cursory Google search for it only renders up some not-so-recent statistics and a bit of local politics (and also results for a completely different Ao Naga settlement called Longjiang). While some of its neighbors, Shangnyu and Longwa in particular, are well-known Konyak Naga cultural sites, Longzang is largely forgotten.
But just because a place is forgotten doesn’t mean it isn’t interesting. Longzang played a significant, if underexamined, part in the story of the Konyaks. It was a powerful village, ruled by one of the “Pongyin Anghs” or “Great Chiefs,” who held many villages under their sway and so were essentially the sovereigns of small independent nations. This institution continues to this day, even if the modern political map has been awkwardly laid down directly over the old Konyak kingdoms. Many of Longzang’s satellite villages now exist either in a different state of India, Arunachal Pradesh, or across the international border in the neighboring country of Burma.
Longzang village. Note that most of the buildings are traditional thatch and bamboo longhouses. The border of the state of Arunachal Pradesh runs along the crest of the ridge in the background.
While Aloh, Longzang’s current Angh, explained to me that he was happy to have visitors, so far it seems very few have come. This may well be due to the poor condition of the roads leading into the village, which are so bad that they become impassible during wet weather, rendering Longzang effectively roadless for months at a time. Even when I ventured there in the middle of the dry season, the roads were deeply rutted and passable only to high-clearance vehicles. I was glad to be walking rather than bumping along in the overcrowded dust-caked Jeeps that infrequently plied between Longzang and nearby villages.
Looking out over a traditional-style agricultural work hut close to the road to Longzang village. You might be able to tell that I used Photoshop’s haze reduction tool in this photo. During the winter, all of Northeast India tends to be enshrouded in a layer of smoky haze, which is mostly a result of agricultural practices. Since there’s little rain during this time, it’s the best part of the year to take long hikes, but not for landscape photography.
I spent a night in Longzang on accident. After departing Shangnyu village the previous day, I found myself exhausted by the middle of that afternoon as I walked along a lonely, infrequently used four-wheel drive track, so I decided to camp in the jungle. The plan was to wake up early the following morning and then trek the next 15 kilometers or so to the tourist friendly village of Longwa.
Longzang would be along my route. Having seen the village in satellite imagery, the settlement looked intriguing. It appeared that most of the buildings were still traditional style Konyak longhouses. Narrow trails led steeply down from the village to the valley of a small river called the Tapi, which then intersected a significant road that crossed the river via a large bridge. From there, the road climbed up through Phomching village and then on to Longwa and the Indo-Burmese border. Walking through Longzang and down the foot-paths below it looked like a much more interesting route than sticking to the widest jeep-tracks in the area, so that was the path I opted to take. But I had no idea what Longzang would be like, and I had no intention of spending more time there than it took to walk through it.
Walking through Longzang.
I wandered into Longzang not long after dawn on a quiet Sunday morning. Practically the moment I set foot in the village, I was directed to the longhouse of the Angh, Aloh, who invited me for tea. Soon I realized I would have to abandon my plan to go on to Longwa that day. Longzang was far too interesting to rush through.
Without even seeing inside, it was clear to me that the residence of the king of Longzang was a remarkable piece of Konyak culture. The outside of the massive structure was covered in dozens of great buffalo skulls, and there was a huge wooden carving made from a single tree trunk resting outside which depicted hunting scenes and a giant python.
Inside the house was like a museum of Konyak cultural artifacts…only it wasn’t a museum at all, but rather a living residence which had gone largely unchanged for several generations. It was a time capsule of the Konyak’s warlike pre-Christian days.
But there was a downside to showing up without an invitation: The Angh had to go to church. Then he would go on to Mon town for some work and not return for a few days. He could only spare me a few minutes of his time.
Aloh, the great Angh of Longzang, stands in front of antique ceremonial knives, traditional gongs, a buffalo skull, and some trophies from local civic and cultural associations.
Aloh had become king in 2016 after the death of his father. Despite his archaic surroundings, the Angh seemed to have a fairly 21st century perspective on the needs of Longzang, such as infrastructure and government aid. He struck me as enthusiastic about conserving the cultural heritage that the village contained. Happily, he had no intention of parting with any of the incredible artifacts in his longhouse. Nor did he intend to hide the old pagan objects away at the behest of the Konyak Baptist Church (of which he was a committed member). He seemed bemusedly appreciative of the fact that I had traveled so far to visit his village, even if my being there was half accidental. The last foreign visitor, more than a year before, had been a well-liked but deeply eccentric French woman who had been trying to compile a Konyak-Language dictionary (who later triggered an international incident by illegally crossing into Burma, a story I’ll cover in more detail a few posts down the line).
I would have liked to have talked to the king more, and to have learned from him about the history of the village, but, being a king, he was busy.
The interior of the Great Angh’s longhouse in Longzang (at this point I dearly wished I had brought a better wide-angle lens). The large horizontal beam, carved from a single huge tree, is said to be very old. You can clearly see how it has been covered over with an accretion of soot from years of fires. Also on the beam are carvings of hunting scenes, depictions of animals, ceremonial gongs, and warriors. The lighting in the house was generally very dim, so the beam was usually hidden in shadow and the carvings were only barely visible. The animal skulls hanging from the left side of the beam are from goats, wild boars, and bears. To the right, the skulls are uniformly from muntjac, or barking deer.
Muntjac deer skulls.
Goat (to the far left), wild boar, and bear skulls.
Shoved to one side of the longhouse was this collection of wooden figures, some of which appear to be quite old, along with a large panel depicting a hunting scene.
Buffalo pelvis mask on a carved wooden warrior.
Carvings of warriors in traditional attire, skulls, men dragging a buffalo with a rope, a ceremonial gong, a tiger on top of an elephant, a large lizard, a man hunting a deer with a musket, etc.
Skulls.
A figure meant to represent either a big cat or a supernatural beast.
An ancient stuffed tiger. It had seen better days. The skin was tied to a beam on the ceiling up in the darkness, and I had spent several hours in the longhouse before I even noticed the long-deceased creature’s desiccated face gazing sadly at me. The dim, atmospheric lighting in the house meant that the whole time I was there I kept noticing new artifacts tucked away in dark corners.
A panel depicting the everyday life of the Konyaks of yore…which included cutting people’s heads off. Note the lady carrying a basket in the lower right hand corner.
Grinding millet, with an animal skull to the left, a wild boar to the upper right, and a rooster to the lower right.
A woman drinking tea and a man smoking opium. Note that he’s using an ember clasped in a bamboo tong to light the opium pipe.
Depiction of a Konak Naga decapitation. As one can see here, the Konyaks of yore had very different notions regarding the value of human life than most 21st century societies.
Wooden panel showing captives being beheaded.
A long dark interior corridor on the western side of the longhouse.
The corridor was lined with hundreds of rotting old bones.
Lonzang’s huge, sparsely decorated, but very well attended, Baptist church. It makes for quite a juxtaposition from the depictions of pre-Christian life back at the Angh’s house.
Inside the church, which was like stepping into an alternate universe after spending much of the day in the Angh’s longhouse. For all their cultural value and macabre fascination, the artifacts and copious skulls in the Angh’s longhouse are fragments of an era which, though not long ago, is fading fast. The Baptist church is an integral part of modern Koynak society, and far more representative of today’s Nagaland.
For most of the afternoon, this fellow was sitting in the middle of the longhouse next to the hearth preparing and smoking opium. Without much to do, I sat there on a PVC chair beside him. In between the man’s long opium stupors, we chatted a bit in mutually broken Hindi. It was a peculiar scene.
Leaving Longzang, on the long walk to Longwa village.
I’d like to extend a huge thank you to Aloh and the royal family of Longzang for letting me stay in their house for a night, and to the people of Longzang for being such gracious hosts!
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A bit of naughtiness, courtesy of the Konyaks of yore.
Patrick Rogers 
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