#galong

The sun cast golden hues over the rolling hills of Arunachal Pradesh as the village of the Galong tribe stirred with excitement. The annual Mopin festival was approaching, a time of celebration, gratitude, and unity. Inside a bamboo hut raised on stilts, four villagers—Tamo, an elderly craftsman; Yayu, a skilled weaver; Bimi, a young dancer; and Koni, an eager apprentice—gathered around a fire, discussing the preparations.

Tamo adjusted his hornbill feathered headgear and ran his fingers over the fine patterns of the bamboo walls. "Mopin is near, and we must be ready. The spirits of our ancestors will watch as we celebrate with our dances and offerings. Bimi, have you perfected your steps for the Popir dance?"

Bimi smiled as she adjusted the silver discs on her traditional white skirt, known as the ‘Galle.’ "Yes, Tamo. I have practiced under the moonlight, just as the elders taught us. Each movement tells a story, a prayer for prosperity and protection. But I worry—will my performance be worthy of the festival?"

Yayu, who was weaving a new set of traditional garments, chuckled. "You underestimate yourself, Bimi. The Popir dance is not just about skill; it is about feeling the spirit of Mopin in your heart. When you dance, you carry the hopes of our people."

Koni, who had been quietly watching, spoke up. "I want to understand more about this festival. Why do we paint our faces with rice flour? And why do we offer rice beer and sacrifice a Mithun?"

Tamo placed a hand on Koni’s shoulder. "Ah, young one, you seek wisdom. The rice flour symbolizes purity and prosperity. By smearing it on our faces, we invite blessings. And the Mithun, our sacred animal, is an offering of gratitude to the spirits. Every item in our festival—from the bamboo cups we drink from to the daos we use for rituals—connects us to our ancestors."

Yayu added, "Even this cloth I weave is part of our tradition. The patterns I sew tell of our people’s journey, our connection to nature, and the unity of our tribe. Clothing is not just to cover the body; it carries our identity."

Bimi stood up and twirled, making her silver ornaments jingle. "Then let us celebrate with joy! Koni, you must join us in the dance this year. Let our traditions live on through every step we take."

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dlh-ajgqWlQ)