Scot Eileen McDougall had heard rumours of Scotland of the East: a place in northeastern India where tartan-clad locals inhabit rain-lashed highlands. Why did such a place exist? And what might she learn by walking through it?
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Darmasisus jumps proudly on the base of his bridge, in the middle of a heart-stopping gully. I try not to look into the chasm below.
“Do you have root bridges in Scotland of the West?” he asks me as he points to the thread-like roots he has meticulously tied around the higher branches.
“I don’t think we have the patience!” I laugh.
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