Agartala at last

When we arrived in Agartala in February of 1958, it was the capital of what had been until 1951 a Native State, that is, a territory ruled by a Maharaja, with the UK controlling defence and foreign relations, and advising on some other things, but otherwise independent. After Independence in 1947, Delhi took over the imperial role. And the state had only been forced to agree to inclusion in India properly by the death of the Maharaja. 

The royal family, heads of the Deb Barma, or Tripuri tribe, had done little to bring Tripura into the twentieth century.  There was only a few miles of sealed road, one high school, one rudimentary hospital, and little other infrastructure provided by the government. The airstrip that was Agartala airport had been built by the RAF during the war over Burma. (New Zealand airman Cliff Emeny from Taranaki had been based there for several months while fighting the Japanese). 

The name “Agartala” means “at the foot of the aloes tree”; I never found the aloes tree, but there was a huge banyan at one of the prominent roundabouts in the town, where an important market was situated. 

The mission compound where we were to live and work was two miles from the centre of town, on a twenty-acre property, roughly square, roughly cut into four corners by shallow valleys across the middle both ways.  Front were the hospital on the western corner, school and church on the largest eastern corner, Bible School on the back eastern corner, and school hostels on the back western quarter. 

The buildings were constructed with concrete floors and walls up to windowsill level. This was the local solution to the problem of termites, which regularly ate anything soft, ie wood or bamboo, up to windowsills. Fixed to the brick and concrete wall pillars, at windowsill level, were hardwood (sal) pillars and major frame members, and on them bamboo framework was laid for roof and walls. On the bamboo framework, which was tied together with coconut fibre string, was laid bamboo matting wall or roof units, or in many cases corrugated iron as at home. 

You can see a bit of the construction of our house from this 1960 photo

The simple technologies of bamboo  construction were interesting and cheap; they needed replacement after about eight years, with a process at about four years, to turn the bamboo strips upside down to expose the less weathered end of the strips. 

The house we were allocated was newly built. It consisted of four rooms on end, with verandahs front and back, and through breeze provided by front and back French doors. In the centre was a lounge, with a bedroom on each side of it, and at one end a dining room, with a kitchen at right angles to it. The cookhouse, with its ground-level fireplace for cooking, was a separate small building. 

There was no running water, so every drop needed had to carried up from the wells in the valley below the house by a servant, who also assisted the cook. There was no electricity, so frig and lighting was provided by kerosene. We had several hurricane lanterns and a large Petromax pressure lamp for the main working area at nights. 

Bathrooms had a large tank to hold water which was filled each day by the servant. There was a tin with a handle for ladelling water out and tipping it over oneself at bath time. Toilets were attached to a septic tank. 

All windows had shutters, so that when there was a cyclone the doors and shutters could be closed to block the wind and rain. 

After two years, we did get electricity. This made a huge difference: people were easily able to carry on working in the evenings, we were able to show movies at school, and to operate other modern gadgets like electric ovens and so on.