With the feeling that minority cultures of the world should know about each other, Leslie began to develop a project called The Tallest Story Competition. This story telling competition would be animated; a comic Scottish character would be the host, and various tribal communities from India would be invited to tell the most fantastic story. The five short stories of the series would be told through five different tribal art styles. In addition to Gaelic, English and Hindi, the films will be translated into all five tribal languages, and the series will be screened in all the communities. Children will be encouraged to participate by voting for their favorite film, and the winning film will receive a prize.

The first tribal art research trip in February 2004 meant that production could begin on three of the films. The simple stick figure characters of Warli painting, (done in white upon a mud coloured background), work well for a 2D cel animation story called “The Lazy Man”; The complex patterns of Gond art is unique to the cutout animation film, “Best of the Best”, while the brass sculptures of Bastar come to life through computer generated 3D, for the film entitled “How The Elephant Lost His Wings”.

Another research trip was planned in November. The team needed to investigate the mystic idikon paintings of the Saora tribals and the Patua scrolls made for the Santal tribe, for the two remaining films.

On 1 November Leslie returned to India, with Dr. Mike Yorke, (anthropologist, documentary filmmaker and tribal consultant on the project), joining Nitin Donde and Tara Douglas in Delhi: Nitin, from Maharastra, is the director of Angles Audio Visual Studio, and the Warli film; Tara is British, and lives in Delhi, where she is animating the Bastar film.

Leslie is directing the Gond film. As she wanted to involve Gond artists as much as possible in the production, the trip was to begin with a workshop in Bhopal. For eight days fifteen artists come to the Youth Hostel, to colour the outline drawings prepared by her small team in Scotland. They all sit on the floor in one room, tightly packed in, bantering, chatting and singing as they work. Leslie sits cross-legged on a bed in the middle of the room, surrounded by pots of paint and rolls of acetate sheet. With Nitin’s help, and assistance from two students from Wigan and Leigh College, a huge pile of wings in various sizes and poses for her character are coloured for the animation film.
The students bring the vast quantity of artwork back to Delhi, and the team travels by train from Bhopal to Rayagada, in Southern Orissa.

The Saora people are a tribal community that lives in the hills of Rayagada district. During the times when they wore little more than a loincloth, they became known as the Lanja Saora. We knew very little about them, but we are all reading a book called “Dialogues with the Dead”, written by an anthropologist friend of Mike’s, Piers Vitebsky.

From 1976, Piers lived with the Saora for two years, studying their tradition of shamanism, and his book was proving to be very useful as we began the search for the idikon painting. Before conversion to Christianity, these sacred paintings were always done in the darkest rooms of Saora houses, to contact and appease the ancestors of the clan.

We decide to go to the tribal market in Puttising, held each Monday. Puttising is about three hours drive from Rayagada, climbing up into the fertile, tropical hills.
In the market, we meet a shaman lady called Lokmi Sabar, and we go to her house a few kilometers below Puttising. She remembers Piers very well; during his stay amongst the Saora, he became fluent with the Saora language, and made many friends, who would fondly call him Perino.
Whenever there is sickness, or following a death, the Kurumbo (shaman) is called. During the ceremony, palm wine is drunk, and the shaman goes into a trance. By sifting raw rice with her hand, rocking rhythmically and chanting, she summons the ancestors of the clan, and it is believed that her soul may transform into a monkey, so as to descend into the underworld of spirits.

When the spirits come, they speak through the shaman: Other people ask questions, trying to discover the cause of sickness and death; it was believed that following death, the deceased person’s soul belonged to the group of spirits that caused the death. The malevolent spirit-god Ratud sum was the most disturbing, and it was believed that anyone who dies suddenly belongs to Ratud sum, and would be a potential danger to living descendants, possibly attacking them and causing a similar fate, unless sacrifices are made.

Only the shaman’s ancestors (called Rahuda) can find and rescue the soul of the deceased. After sacrifices have been made and a stone is planted beneath the sacred ancestor tree, the soul will be bought into the underworld. But because of attachment and memory, he will still ascend into the world of the living by climbing a ladder: The soul, wanting to enjoy what it has enjoyed in life, will ask for food and sacrifice.

The Rahuda live at special sites in the hills, and in the biggest trees in the forest. These trees have to be preserved, and the shaman’s soul will only return to her body, when the spirits have returned home.

These days, few houses still have idikon paintings, and they are inevitably found in the dark by peering closely and using a torch.

Our research is abruptly aborted, when the Gunapur police visit us at the hotel, to inform us that we are in a restricted area without permits, and that we must leave immediately. Finally it is agreed that we can stay the night, and the next day we drive to Rayagada with our police escort to request permission to continue our research in Saora Land. As no one wants to accept responsibility for us foreigners in an area that is prone to Naxalite activity, permission is refused, and we are told to go to Bhubaneshwar. This will not fit into our schedule, so it seems that we will now have to depend on the work of Piers Vitebsky as research for the Saora animation story.
Reluctantly, we leave Rayagada district, driving to Koraput, which is neither in Saora territory, nor is it restricted. We have heard about a government organized tribal fair in Koraput, and we hope to find beautiful tribal handicrafts for sale. In the evening, there is a cultural programme of tribal music and dance.
As we take photos at the front of the stage, the Minister of Culture of Orissa notices us, and calls us over for an audience. Swathed in white dhoti, wearing a shiny red rosette, he is unmistakably a Minister. Lined up, cameras flash, and we summarize our project, explaining the difficulties encountered in Saora land. The Minister declares that it is his duty to help us, and he magnanimously invites us to join him for breakfast the following day, at the Circuit House.

Over breakfast, we elaborate on our project, and the Minister reaffirms that he will help us return to the Saora hills and resume research for the animation film.

Meanwhile, we decide to pay a visit to the Bondo tribals, further south, beyond Machkund and Onkadelli. The drive takes many hours as the roads are poorly maintained. The only place to stay is at the Inspection Bungalow in Machkund, and the following day, we employ a local youth to guide us to the nearest Bondo village, 8 km from the end of the road.

As we walk off into the hills of the Bondo Highlander, we feel like we have been absorbed into an oil painting. The colours are deep and mellow, and every direction reveals another part of the perfect vision. Green contains many other colours in the sunlight; the earth is red-purple, and fields are planted with yellow flowers, grown for oil. Walking and walking, we sometimes lose the path. Arriving at a Gadeba village, we meet a very small agile, tribal man with curly hair. He is able to tell us that he belongs to the Gadeba tribe, and that he would like to take us on to the Bondo village.

We decide to drive late into the night to reach Rayagada, with permission to return to the Saora hills. Back at the Inspection Bungalow in Machkund to collect our luggage, we discover a party of about fifteen Dutch tourists who are on an organized tribal tour. They are jolly, sitting around a big campfire, prepared to put up with the simple facilities and hoping to see some Bondo tribals in the weekly market at Onkadelli.

Because the driver goes so slowly, meticulously avoiding every hole in the road, we reach Rayagada very late. The next day we continue to Gunapur, where the sub-collector is waiting for us. He is engaged in a meeting, but gives us an audience, and declares that full assistance will be provided to us: We must return to the Inspection Bungalow in Gunapur each evening, and we would have an escort into the Saora villages. Fortunately this person turns out to be a local Saora man, and he is happy to help us find out more about his culture.

We spend the last day amongst the Saora walking to the villages around Puttising. On arriving in the village, we charge into the houses where there are still idikon paintings, and we take lots of photographs.
The Saora greetings always begin with the word “nimtang”. They are small and agile, gentle and shy. They look different from the other people of Orissa, and it is believed that they originally came from Cambodia. We have found out that until recently, they had the habit of communicating with their ancestors, but now that they are Christian, they will only consult the shaman when they are unable to cure disease in any other way. Hardworking people, they neither invest nor plan ahead. Dependant on agriculture, unless they are encouraged to commercialize their art style, bringing it from its sacred context on the walls of their huts to paper or canvas to sell to tourists, it will vanish.

The next day we leave on the night train from Vizigapatnam. When we look more closely at the map, we decide get off the train at Kharagpur, in Southern Bengal, as it is close to our next destination, Midnapur.
Naya is a village that we have heard about from Patua artists that come to Delhi to participate in exhibitions at such venues as Dilli Haat and the Crafts Museum.
We travel there by Ambassador jeep from Midnapur, turning off the highway and on through several towns and villages, past fields of rice ready for harvest and banana trees, glistening with deep red coloured dust from the road. We are surprised at the distance, only reaching the village by dusk. It is easy to find the artists, simply by stopping in the road and reading off names from our list. Montu Chitrakar takes us into his large house, and soon we absorbed by the big warm family, and furiously fending off mosquitoes as we are served tea, in the middle of an increasing pile of paintings in the back room.
The artistic community of this village is not tribal; they all have the name “Chitrakar”, which is associated with their occupation. They paint themes to suit their Hindu patrons and also for the Santal tribe. From a very young age, children start learning the technique of painting storytelling patua scrolls from their parents, and it is astounding the quantity and quality of work being produced in Naya. Traditionally the patua Chitrakars are poets too, and as they unwind the scroll they recite the song that tells the story depicted in the painting.
More artists have gathered, and after the second cup of tea, the most elaborate scrolls are brought out. From ceiling to floor, these scrolls are covered with human figures, an astute reminder of crowded India, and stunning to behold. They take several weeks to complete, and are cheap at 3000rs. Mike cannot resist buying the one that tells the story of the bombing of the World Trade Center, and we all agree that this village is a successful example of how a traditional artistic community can adapt their themes and style to modern taste and make a living from their art. I can see further potential for them in commissions to paint personalized scrolls for people, depicting important events in their lives.

For the tribal animation film, we are exclusively interested in the scrolls made for the Santal tribals, but we are told that these artists, also Chitrakars, will be found in remote places near Santal villages. Bapi Chitrakar is volunteered as a guide, and he says he will take us on a journey to find these patua artists who paint for the Santal.

Traveling west for many hours on the busy highway, we are heading towards Ghatsila, in Jharkhand. By the time we reach Lohadi, it is evening, so we decide to stay in the village. The only cement building is the clubhouse, which is proudly provided for our accommodation. The villagers decide to slaughter a chicken in our honour, and we provide plenty of entertainment to a crowd that watches us in the moonlight. The next morning we meet the patua artists of the village. They are disillusioned by the lack of appreciation and support for their art these days. To inspire them, Mike brings out the painting that he bought in Naya, and they all agree that they must update their art form.

In Bharatpur, near Bankura, we buy scrolls from artists Vasudev Chitrakar and Jaya Chitrakar. The artists recite the story, and it has become clear that all the scrolls painted for the Santal people depict the same myth of creation.
The next village we visit is called Majira Mora, and here we find many Patua artists. Leslie and Tara sit on another string cot, but it is difficult to look at all the scrolls. Sitaram Chitrakar is obviously an accomplished artist. His style is naïve, and he has developed a good style for his characters, colouring his work well, with watercolour washes. We decide to buy two of them, and one from another artist (Bidraduor Chitrakar), whose style reminds me of the illustrator Quintin Blake. As with all our visits to Patua artists, arguments arise regarding money. It is clear that these artists are very poor and do not receive any help in promoting their art form.
Upon reaching Dumka, a decision is made to visit the Christian missionaries, as a way to reach the Santal people; many Santals have been converted to Christianity, attracted by the care, support and education that the church offers.
The first Mission we visit is Catholic, and a Father from Malta, Rev. J. Zerafa, meets us. His eyes light up at the opportunity to talk, and tells us that he has been in India for fifty years. He brings out a set of Santali monopoly called Bepsa that he has developed as a language-learning tool, and we all wonder if he will ask us to play. But instead he introduces us to Father Albinus Murmu, a Santali man, who speaks good English and is keen to guide us into the world of Santali art and culture. We make an arrangement for him to come to the hotel early the next day.
He tells us that some Catholic Brothers have arrived at the Mission at Dudhani, who are proficient in traditional Santali music, so we decide to record them on the roof of the Mission. The young men are good, and they enjoy playing for us. They play traditional drums and flutes, and they also know some songs.
We show Father Albinus the Patua scrolls that we have bought, and he becomes excited, recognising the creation story: In the beginning there was only water, so the supreme deity created the creatures that live in water. Next he made a male and a female swan, but there was nowhere for them to alight. Meanwhile, a celestial horse came down to drink water, and while he was drinking, he spat froth from his mouth. The swans could alight on the foam, but as there was no earth, there was nothing for them to eat. God then asked the crocodile to bring up the earth from the bottom of the ocean. The crocodile tried to bring the earth up on his back, but it dissolved in the water before it could be carried to the surface. The same thing happened with the prawn, crab and fish. Only the earthworm was able to bring up the earth and put it on the back of the tortoise. Wherever it was heaped up mountains were created, and the foam began to stick to the earth. God sowed seeds in the foam, and vegetation began to grow, and the earth became firm. Making a nest in the grass, the swans laid two eggs from which two humans were hatched and they were called Pilchuharam and Pilchubodhi. Maran Buru, the principle Bonga of the Santals, taught the first two humans how to make tasty rice beer. After drinking the beer, Pilchuharam seduced Pilchubodhi. In this way, seven sons and seven daughters were conceived, and from them were born the seven clans of the Santali tribe.
This story is ceremoniously recounted twice in the life of every Santal; the first during childhood and the second is at the time of death. But for the series, this story is too long, and as it is not suitable for a five-minute animation film for children, Leslie wants to find out more about the Santal spirits, called Bongas.
Father Albinus takes us to a village called Bagnol, near Masanjor. Most of the adults have gone out to harvest their crops, and there are a few elderly people and lots of children in the village when we arrive. Father Albinus introduces us, and then tells them of Leslie’s desire to know more about Bongas.

After lunch, at a small roadside Dhaba (restaurant), Father Albinus introduces us to a local headman, for a conversation about Bongas. At first he is reluctant to talk about the subject, but soon he is telling us all about Bongas.
There are many different types of Bongas: Every non-Christian household has an Orak Bonga, and every property boundary has a Sima Bonga. Orak Bongas are male, and they give protection to the house. If the Orak Bonga is unhappy, people will become sick or poor. Orak Bongas like rice beer, but a Sima Bonga requires animal sacrifice.
There is also a Bonga of wealth called Kisar Bonga, but he can only make you rich by stealing from neighbours. This may explain why the Santal do not chase wealth: In the Santal areas, all shops are run by the Hindu business class.

Only the most powerful Ojas can enter the world of the Bonga, where they sit on snakes and use tigers like dogs for hunting. The Santal also believe that if a boy plays the flute very well, a Bonga girl might fall in love with him and then he is captured, often disappearing into the Bonga world: If they get married, their offspring will be Bonga children.

Bongas appear in dreams if there are problems in the family, or if chickens have not been sacrificed during harvest. The Oja then has to be called to find out what sacrifices are required to appease the Bonga spirits.
We have asked Father Albinus to take us to visit an Oja. The Oja is usually the headman of the village. He is not at home, but we see the tree where he worships the Bonga spirits.
Father Albinus has a plan that we will stay the night at a Christian Mission Station called Talganga, in the middle of the forest, and on the way we stop at a single grove of sal trees by the side of the road. He explains that this grove is a traditional place of worship of Bongas, and it is called a Jaher. Every village has a Jaher, and it is where the supreme Bonga, Maran Buru (Sing Bonga) and Jaher Era (Woman), the nature goddess live. These spirits have to be appeased by sacrificing chickens before harvest, or cutting down any tree.

The road has almost disappeared by the time we reach Talganga Mission Station. It is a huge cement affair enclosed by a high cement wall, and Father Robert Kalku runs a boarding school for about 4-5 hundred Santali primary school children. Waking up early at the Mission, we are soon driving to a village called Basmata, where a Santali dance performance has been arranged for us.
As we walk into the village, we are greeted by a group of ladies dressed in their traditional costume of green and blue cloth. We are garlanded, and shown to a row of chairs. We have fun trying to remember the correct gesture of greeting to make to a Santali person (depending on whether that person is older or younger), as each of the dancers greets us. As respected guests, our feet are washed. Father Albinus gives an introduction speech, and the dance performance begins. Nitin and Tara take photographs, Mike films with his camera, Leslie records sound with her laptop, and her small video camera is handed over to Father Albinus to use. The flute player and the drummers are recorded in solo, and singers are recorded separately; at the end, Father Albinus stands up and thanks everyone on our behalf, and then Mike is inspired to deliver a speech, which is translated by Father Albinus. We give a financial donation of 600rs. to the village, and then we are taken on a tour through the village to see some huts that have recently been destroyed by wild elephants.

At a weekly roadside tribal market, Father Albinus stops to buy fish. We continue to his village, Asanbari, where we will spend the night in his home with his family.
We are greeted politely, and the family are shy. They spend hours cooking for us, and we all sleep in a line on straw on the mud floor in the back room.

It is a sad day, to be leaving the hospitality of the Santali people. Father Albinus takes us for a walk to the river near his village where we bathe. When we return, lunch is ready, and after lunch we are on the road again. Father Albinus has become a good friend and a very helpful member of the team. He shows us a scar that he has on his wrist and tells us that it is a mark that was made in his village so that he will be recognised as a Santali, and accepted by the community; he adds that he is proud of this mark. He also tells us that AISWACS (All India Santal Welfare and Culture Society) are planning to commemorate the Santal Rebellion of 1855 next summer, and that he will be organising the cultural programme. He hopes that the films will be ready by then so that they can be included. It becomes apparent that Father Albinus has a passion for his own culture, and would like to promote it.
In Dumka, he decides to continue with us to Jaissidih, where we will catch the train to Patna. The driver will then return to Bolpur, and will drop Father Albinus back in Dumka on the way.

During the first research trip, we visited places that were easier to reach; with some assistance from the government and city, the tribes have already started to adapt their art forms for commercial purposes.
Neither the Saora nor the Santal have been encouraged yet in this manner. Naturally inclined towards the land, both tribal groups depend on subsistence farming, and have not learnt the art of business. We sense the benefits for these tribes to be supported in art and music; to be encouraged to share and contribute art forms that are unique and important to the rich cultural diversity of India, thus increasing understanding of the value of its minority communities. At present there are limited facilities for tourists to explore the art forms of these areas, but it is hoped that these tribal arts will be able to reach the markets of the city. Back in Scotland, the two scripts for the Saora and Santal animation films will be developed. The themes of these films will be magic and the spirits, and it is hoped that the tribals will be encouraged by the interest shown in their culture, and that they will see new possibilities for their artistic expression, so that it becomes accessible to the modern world.