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| Geetanjali Krishna: The spirit of the hills |
| Geetanjali Krishna / New Delhi Oct 03, 2009, 00:57 IST |
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I was in Pelling, Sikkim last week, wondering why the North East is not a different time zone from the rest of India. At 5.30 in the evening, the sun had dipped low, and the silvery peak of Kanchnejunga was beginning to blend with the horizon. “Seeing how long evenings stretch here, I can quite understand why Sikkim is reputed to have the third-highest per capita alcoholism rate among Indian states, behind only Punjab and Haryana!” said my husband. For although it was barely tea time, we were on our way to drink Chaang, Sikkim’s brew of choice with Dinesh Pradhan, principal of a local village school. “Chaang is part of the Sikkimese way of life,” said Pradhan, “we don’t look at our watches before sitting down with friends and kinsmen for a convivial drink!”
So we sat in his warm kitchen where large wood tumblers covered with tight lids and bamboo straws stuck through their middle were brought to us. Locally known as tombas, these contained what looked like a small mountain of moist chestnut-coloured grains on a sieve. “Pour hot water into your tombas,” instructed Pradhan. We obeyed, wondering how on earth this could yield a drink strong enough to keep the locals in high spirits. “The potency of Chaang depends upon how long it has been fermented for,” explained Pradhan, “the one you’re drinking, is quite mild…” It took about five minutes for the fermented millets to infuse into the water: “In fact the longer you keep it, the tastier and more potent the Chaang gets,” said he. Waiting for our beer to brew, we admired the simple lines of the tomba, well oiled so that the wood did not warp with the pouring of hot water in it.
Our first sip was a revelation — the drink was pleasant to taste and left a comforting sort of warmth as it went down our gullets. Before we knew it, we were down a tomba each. Then came the second revelation — all we needed to do was pour more hot water and in five minutes the second round of Chaang was ready again! “One handful of fermented millets may be used to make as many as seven tombas of Chaang,” said Pradhan.
As we got pleasantly woozy (yes, even though it tastes deceptively mild, it is rather potent) Pradhan told us more about the drink that is apparently the Yeti’s favourite tipple. In the villages nestled deep in the mountains, people talk in hushed whispers about Chaang being carried off by the mythical creature. Closer home, few aspects of the everyday life of Sikkimese villagers are considered complete without Chaang. Village friendships brew over a convivial tomba, and disputes settle over it as well. Rural swains woo their beloveds with it, and raise a toast with Chaang when they finally marry. Elders swear by its efficacy as a remedy for common cold, fever, allergic rhinitis, insomnia and of course, as a perfect accompaniment to the long and cold evenings of the small hilly state. After consumption, the millets that remain in the tomba are used as fodder for pigs and cattle.
“The best thing about this drink is that it is completely homemade,” said Pradhan, “ladies of the house ferment the millets with yeast, then grind the mixture with special roots and spices.” Unlike country liquor, Chaang rarely causes any ill effects or hangovers. Chaang, thought I, lying in bed the morning after, rejuvenated after a deep sleep, was a study in contrasts — heady and strong, yet benevolent and warm … not quite unlike the spirit of Sikkimese culture itself!
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