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  • Writer's pictureVoita

Heritage (APd4)

The trick to survival is fervent appreciation of the fact that not every morning is out to kill me.

Some days I'm allowed to sleep in until 6, 6:30 even. Glorious days.

our abode

access path

In the West still lives a blessed generation that grew up with H̶a̶r̶r̶y̶ ̶P̶o̶t̶t̶e̶r̶ the nascent of computers, internet and phones. These mystical creatures not only remember the before and after of these hallmark breakthroughs, but they became acquainted in those magical years of human life cycle, when their brains are fresh and hungry. Which allowed the young adults to dig beneath the surface and master the new technologies.

AP finds itself crashing into a similar historical crux, only instead of temporal ley lines, spatial ley lines are in play.

And Katom is one of the crux - manipulating druids.

Let me insert here the trifling matter of a $300.000 loan Katom took out against his ancestors land to fund this tasteless enterprise. First purchase with the freshly acquired funds was the mafioso ISUZU.

next in the line

munchies

first I've seen the mountains!

Latest in the factory drama:

An Assamese electrician played the whole town like a violin, collected all the front payments he could and, once his goodwill credit with his rental proprietor reached a breaking point, moved on to fresh waters.

The land is plentiful for entrepreneurs of all shades.

Ensued a flurry of calls and driving through town, until Katom beat out a new electric meter from the proprietor's stash of seized goods.

He still has to re-register it to his name, which means more bribes to officers, to get it done this year. But who'd sweat the details?

Moving on.

The punch line? Since this'll be the first factory in the area, noone knows what they're doing. Meaning the meter ordered isn't robust enough to sustain the required power draw and Katom has to get an entirely different model a-ny-way.

shadowy slum negotiations


find yourself an electrician

Point 7.398: Cooling off in the car. One of the engineers slips into Katom's seat. Starts going through his stuff. Kukri, binoculars, seats pockets contents. Not stealing, merely nosy.

Privacy is another of those distant ideals imprisoned in Hollywood movies.

Don't ever try keeping secrets in India.

Katom's kukri

memories etched in the concrete

checking on the progress

Afternoon. Went to visit Mone's mother, who founded Arunachal's first tea estate. Mone's brother travelled the world before rest of Arunachal even knew the world existed and by jolly I was way out of my league on half of the topics he brought up. Best I could do was to decode his mix of Russian and Slovak as he excitedly recalled his joyful youthful days of visiting the Soviet Republics. If I told you the entire location gave off heavy British vibes, you'd believe me. Last I checked, three years ago, in Darjeeling the plantation workers were still being happily exploited by British tea companies, paid less than a dollar a day. There was this old rebelling female worker who'd tell you all about it if you bought her tea. The differentiating factor in Arunachal is decent worker salary and a girls' football team, which has been one of the starting vectors of India's female football. And a language center for impoverished tribals, where they can learn Japanese, of all things.

the Estate

tea tasting

remember to spit like a Brit!

tea as far as you can see

Katom's evening head scratcher: 'would you rather burn your trash or give it to the municipality for "further processing"?' Keep in mind, no modern means of garbage disposal are available. It's literally burn the stuff, plastic and all, yourself, let the municipality burn it or pile up in places where you used to play as a kid, to pollute and destroy an ever expanding area. Let me know in the comments.

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