Moji Riba has been working since 1997 to document Arunachal Pradesh's rich cultural heritage. Image courtesy Rolex Awards
“I like to think of our heritage as an elastic band. I want to stretch this as much into the future generations as we can – till it reaches its edge and snaps. Each day I wake up and hope that this never happens. But that is sadly a finality we have to stare at – unless of course, there is a revolution of some kind!”
That’s how Moji Riba, Indian film-maker and cultural anthropologist, sums up the raison d’etre for his work.
He has reasons to worry. He lives and works in India’s north-eastern Arunachal Pradesh, which an isolated remote and sparsely populated part of the country that is home to 26 major tribal communities,. Each one has its own distinctive dialect, lifestyle, faith, traditional practices and social mores. They live side by side with about 30 smaller communities.
Today, a combination of economic development, improved communications, the exodus of the young and the gradual renunciation of animist beliefs for mainstream religions threatens Arunachal’s colourful traditions. “It is not my place to denounce this change or to counter it,” says Moji. “But, as the older generation holds the last link to the storehouse of indigenous knowledge systems, we are at risk of losing out on an entire value system, and very soon.”
Can anyone capture culture – a dynamic, hugely variable phenomenon – and preserve it in a museum or lab? Not quite. Preserving the communities as a living reservoir of culture is the best method. In addition, modern communication technologies can be used to record the myriad practices and memories – the indigenous knowledge and oral history of a people.
This is just what Moji Riba has been doing for over a decade. He founded and heads the Centre for Cultural Research and Documentation (CCRD) in Naharlagun, Arunachal Pradesh. The non-profit centre, established in 1997, focuses on audio-visual documentation of the folklore, ritual practices and oral histories of the diverse tribes that inhabit the north-eastern states of India and how the indigenous people are adapting to the processes of rapid change.
Moji, who holds a masters degree in mass communication from the prestigious Mass Communication Research Center (MCRC), Jamia Millia Islamia University, New Delhi, could easily have joined the exodus of talent from his state to the metropolitan centres in India. But he chosen to return to his roots with his enhanced skills and expanded worldview.
Over the past decade, he and the centre have made 35 documentaries for television stations and for government and non-governmental agencies. But the centre is more than just an archive or library: it is also a platform offering the tribal people an opportunity to voice their concerns and share experiences.
In 2004, Moji was instrumental in creating the diploma in mass communications at Itanagar’s Rajiv Gandhi University, to augment understanding of cultural values and local customs. He currently divides his time as head of the university’s communications department and running CCRD.
“CCRD has been using documentary films as a tool to document and understand the transitional tribal society and to share that experience through the medium of television,” says Moji. “In these 10 years, we have primarily produced television documentaries on linkages between issues of culture, environment and development and how one cannot be seen in isolation from the other.”
CCRD films have been showcased on Doordarshan, India’s national broadcaster, and various other national and international forums.
Riba teaches Hage Komo the basic camera skills that will allow the young Apatani to film an interview with his father and an animist priest, thus recording his tribe's oral history (Photo courtesy Rolex Awards)
Years of hard work and quiet persistence are beginning to pay off. Moji has just been selected as an Associate Laureate of Rolex Awards for Enterprise, a prestigious global honour. He is being recognised for ‘helping to preserve and document the rich cultural heritage of India’s Arunachal Pradesh tribes’.
He is among the 10 winners of the 2008 Rolex Awards for Enterprise, which for more than 30 years have supported pioneering work in science and medicine, technology and innovation, exploration and discovery, the environment and cultural heritage.
Read the full profile on Moji and his work on Rolex Awards website
I have known Moji for half a decade, in which time my admiration for him has continued to grow. We first met during a South Asian TV training workshop TVE Asia Pacific organised in Kathmandu in October 2003. Since then, Moji worked with us as a freelance film director and producer. In 2005, he directed Deep Divide, a half-hour, three-country documentary on the state of environmental justice in South Asia. In 2006, he filmed stories for TVEAP series Digita4Change (in Bhutan) and The Greenbelt Reports (in three locations in India).
Moji’s films have drawn the attention of film festivals and reviewers. My friend Darryl D’Monte, one of the most senior journalists in India, wrote in 2006 about one film titled When the Mist is Lifted: “As an insider, he (Moji) is able to draw out the contradiction between old and new lifestyles and practices. In remarks after the screening, he spoke about the difficulties of making films in the northeast, and understandably expressed his reluctance to make another film on Arunachal, which has been his staple over the years.”
With support from the Rolex Award, Moji and CCRD plan to implement in 2009 the Mountain Eye Project, an unconventional and ambitious initiative that aims to create a cinematic time capsule documenting a year in the life of 15 different ethnic groups. They will select and train young people from each community to do the filming. This gives him access to enough film-makers as well as access to people with an intimate understanding of village life.
According to Moji, the Mountain eye Project is the result of the learnings that have emerged from about a decade’s work on documentation of the folklore and cultural heritage of the tribal groups in northeast India. It seeks to involve local communities in extensively documenting the disappearing cultural practices and traditional knowledge and to build an audio-visual archive of this data.
It also proposes to activate a vast network of outreach activities through museums in order to inculcate in children and youth, an appreciation of traditional heritage and creating respect for cultural diversity.
Watch this space.
Hage Komo gets video instructions from Moji Riba, who is enlisting local young people to capture the oral histories, languages and rituals of their tribes for his project. Komo films his father gathering bamboo in a grove outside Hari Village. (Photo courtesy Rolex Awards)
Palitha Perera: The man who refused to be His Master’s Voice
21 November 2008 — Nalaka GunawardeneDoyen of Sri Lankan cartoonists, Wijesoma, saw it all coming (courtesy: The Island)
This cartoon is more than a quarter of a century old. It was drawn by W R Wijesoma, the doyen of Sri Lankan political cartoonists, in March 1982 — barely a month after Sri Lanka’s national television broadcaster Rupavahini commenced its transmissions.
I was a school boy in my mid teens when this happened, but I remember the story behind the cartoon. It was Sri Lanka’s first executive president J R Jayewardene who inaugurated the national TV station, which was donated to Sri Lanka by the Japanese government as part of its large package of aid to the island nation. At the inauguration, JR (as everyone called him) made this lofty speech, where he expressed his hope that Rupavahini would also be a satyavahini (meaning: the picture tube should also dispense the truth).
In practice, that presidential wish never had a chance. JR was in office from 1978 to 1989, and Rupavahini’s fledgling years coincided with his second term. Despite his ideals, his own government misused the new medium from almost day one for blatant, partisan propaganda. In the event, it was my old colleague Wijesoma’s vision of a ‘party-vahini’ (a propaganda vehicle for party in office) that became our sad, stark reality. Some have also called it pacha-vahini (dispenser of lies).
I recall all this on World Television Day, 21 November, because I’ve been reading a very interesting book by a remarkable man who was associated with Rupavahini’s inauguration. His name is Palitha Perera, and he is one of the most senior and respected radio and TV broadcasters in Sri Lanka today. Among other feats, Palitha holds the distinction of having been the inaugural announcer on two Sri Lankan TV channels – Rupavahini (15 February 1982) and TNL TV (21 July 1993).
Live with Palitha Perera
As I note in a book review published today on Groundviews.org: “His reminiscences provide some unique insights into our broadcasting history for nearly half a century. He chronicles little known facts and praises unsung heroes. In doing so, he offers a ringside account of the progress — and decline — of state broadcasting in Sri Lanka from the early 1960s to the present.”
Palitha is one of the few broadcasters who successfully moved from radio to television broadcasting. Many other announcers, interviewers and producers of the radio era failed to make that leap, for the two media are different.
In fact, Palitha has been in broadcasting longer than I’ve been alive. I grew up in the 1970s listening to Palitha’s deep, clear and friendly voice. He was Sri Lanka’s pioneering cricket commentator in Sinhala and that’s how he has had the greatest impact on our culture and society.
As I say in the review: “Here we have, straight from the original source, the story of how cricket became the de facto national past-time, if not our national addiction or religion! Like it or hate it, cricket is an integral part of our popular culture. Radio (and later TV) cricket commentaries take much of the credit (or blame, in some people’s view) for building up this uncommon fervour that occasionally unites our otherwise utterly and bitterly divided nation.”
Palitha has also made his name as the country’s foremost interviewer on both radio and television. In his time, Palitha has interviewed dozens of public figures from Presidents and prime ministers to social activists and trade unionists. He is always prepared and well informed. He remains calm and friendly at all times, yet is dogged in his questioning. This style has exposed many a hypocrite and charlatan.
It was said that boxer Mohammad Ali used to ‘float like a butterfly and sting like a bee’. I would say Palitha Perera floats like a butterfly and stings like a butterfly. It never hurts his interviewee personally, but he is piercing and penetrative all the same.
Unlike many other broadcasters who have cheer-led governments prostituting the airwaves, a public property, Palitha Perera never lost sight of who his real masters were: the audience.
Read my full review on Groundviews