Kenduguda, a small village in the Kundra block of Koraput, Odisha, is home chiefly to the Paraja tribe. Being food writers, we are blessed to have a variety of culinary experiences all across India, and tribal cuisine has been part of our repertoire. We had heard many stories about tribal food in Koraput, Odisha, but nothing prepared us for what we experienced in Kenduguda. It was not a planned restaurant visit or a staged cultural show. It was a quiet invitation to sit, eat and see how people live when the forest is their guide. For travellers interested in experiential cultural tourism in India and beyond, this was the kind of story that they would cherish forever.

We started from our hotel in Jeypore town, about 35 km away, and it was an hour’s drive through verdant greenery on the red soil of this region. We were a biggish team, and once we reached Kenduguda, we walked the last stretch on foot. Children stood near the mud walls and giggled while seeing us pass. People smiled at us, but no one asked questions. Yet someone pointed to an open ground, and without words, we understood we were welcome.

Kenduguda Village: Paroja Tribe and Kotpad Weaves

We were already in Koraput for a few days, and the beauty of this region was gradually unfolding in front of us. We were surprised at the deep sense of art here, and Kenduguda was no exception. We walked through the village, stopping every few minutes to pull out our cameras. The village was clean and the mud houses were beautifully painted in earthy colours—soft greens, mud browns, some unseen shade of light blue and a rusty deep red. It seemed like an art gallery in the open. The local temple was modest, with quaint deities made of stone and wood, decorated with leaves and flowers. The austerity conveyed a deep sense of faith.

The welcome we got set the tone for the rest of the afternoon. When we arrived, women welcomed us with bright hibiscus garlands. The flowers were so large and perfect in shape and colour that, for a moment, we thought they were plastic. But they were fresh, straight from their backyards—simple gestures that carried deep warmth.

Folk Dance, Ornaments, and Living Traditions of Koraput

As we assembled, men and women in local ensembles sang and danced their traditional numbers while we watched awestruck. The dancers wore real Kotpad, which is the most celebrated hand-woven fabric of the region. The fabric is dyed in deep maroons and browns extracted from roots and leaves. The motifs showed crabs, fish, tortoise, mountains and pots signifying water. These were all signs from their world. The ornaments that people wore were not very ornate but bold, simple designs that made a statement. The adornments were not just tribal silver. Many were inspired by nature, such as necklaces made from seeds, dried fruits, and shells. Flowers and peacock feathers were adding extra brilliance to the bandanas on the men and the hair buns of women.

The folk dance began. Men beat the local Dhamsa drums and played the horn or Singa. Women formed a circle, stepping in a steady rhythm. No one danced to entertain. They danced because it is part of farming, marriage, prayer and celebration in general. We were pulled into the circle. We tried, messed up the steps and laughed. They laughed too—not at us, but with us. Sharing these moments is at the heart of experiential cultural tourism, connecting travellers with living heritage.

Experiencing Tribal Food and Intangible Cultural Heritage

It was time for the meal itself, and again, it was all inspired by nature. Everything came either from the forest or someone’s backyard. Our plates and bowls were made of sal leaves, stitched together with thin sticks. In fact, all this while we saw many women niftily busy in stitching some leaves. We now realised that they were creating crockery for us. Given that these elements procured from nature go back to nature, this was one fuss-free model of sustainability pulsating in front of us.

All that dancing had opened up our appetites. We sat on the ground in a rectangular formation, waiting for the much-awaited feast to commence. It could perhaps be a once in a life time affair. At the outset, we were handed cups made from leaves, and soon a starchy white drink was poured into them. That was the enigmatic local wine Salap, the fermented sap of the salap tree.

Along with that, we were served the star of the meal – Kai or Kai chutney, made from red weaver ants. The wine was citrus with an earthy, tangy flavour. Kai was dry, sharp, and somewhat crunchy. It was the perfect snack with the bland Salap. The ant chutney Kai is a Geographical Indication (GI) of this region.

Next came rice with leafy green saag, followed by a mouth-watering gravy preparation made with ripe mangoes, chopped chillies and lemon juice; bamboo shoot curry with small fried bees and runny dal as the last course. No one asked if we liked the food. But eyes watched gently. Members of our host community refilled our rice without asking. An elder smiled when we coughed at the chutney. A child offered water from a steel tumbler. There was silence, but no distance. The kindness was direct and without display.

The core way of life here was characterised by care and self-reliance, focusing on what the villagers could grow or make. Nothing was wasted. Hardly any plastic was seen. Experiencing this kind of hospitality is exactly what makes experiential cultural tourism in India and beyond so unique. Tasting the Salap wine or Kai ant chutney could be an exciting experience for visitors. But for the people here, all that they consumed as part of their diet, including the ants and bees, had a purpose. These were all excellent sources of nutrition. Nothing was artificial, but everything was sincere and full of flavour.

Tribal Knowledge as Intangible Cultural Heritage

What we ate was not a curated menu. It was their intangible cultural heritage—knowledge passed down by living, not writing. In Kenduguda, food is not just about taste. It carries lessons. Kai chutney teaches where to find ants and how to cure a fever. Salap teaches patience, because it must be collected before sunrise. Bamboo shoots must be soaked for days to remove bitterness.

It is tough to evaluate how much we loved the food. It was simple, raw, moderate on oil, yet palatable. There was no sugar or sweets, which explained the lithe body type of the people here. Every one of us was overwhelmed by the totally novel experience. We felt blessed to have partaken of this meal, passed down for generations, as a part of the village’s intangible cultural heritage. A heritage that has been preserved in everyday life rather than in museums or books.

It was an eye-opener that, in some parts of India, traditional knowledge is survival, identity and memory. It cannot be taught in schools. It must be lived. For travellers seeking authentic cultural experiences, witnessing this knowledge is one of the most direct ways to engage with the intangible cultural heritage of India and beyond.

How to Reach Kenduguda, Koraput

The nearest town to Kenduguda with proper road and rail connections is Koraput town, about 30–35 km away. From Koraput, you can hire a local taxi or take an auto-rickshaw to reach the village. Jeypore town, where we stayed, also had all facilities, and Jeypore was 37 km from Kenduguda. The last few kilometres are on narrow village roads, so it’s best to travel during daylight.

If you are coming by train, Koraput Railway Station as well as Jeypore are well connected to Bhubaneswar, Visakhapatnam, and other major cities. From the station, taxis or shared jeeps are available. The nearest airport is Visakhapatnam Airport, around 250 km away. From there, a road journey of 6–7 hours brings visitors to Koraput.

Where to stay for visiting Kenduguda, Koraput

Koraput town, as well as Jeypore, have several small hotels and guesthouses that are clean and budget-friendly. For a closer village experience, some local families offer homestays, where you can stay with the community and enjoy authentic meals. This is also a great way to connect with local life and culture.

We stayed at a hotel in Jeypore that provided all necessary amenities. That said, the development of tourism in the Koraput region is still a new phenomenon, and booking ahead is advisable.

Why Experiential Cultural Tourism Matters

While travelling, people rush to see, click and leave. But Kenduguda teaches another way. Here, travel means sitting down, eating slowly and observing without judgment. Koraput does not offer luxury, but it offers reality. It shows how communities comfortably survive with little, yet live with dignity.

We realised that cultural travel is not about shows and stages. It is an immersive experience about sharing space. This is what makes intangible cultural heritage and experiential cultural tourism in India and beyond truly meaningful.

Carrying the Taste Back

Long after we left Kenduguda, the taste of Kai chutney stayed with us. It was more than flavour. It was a lesson – heritage is not always grand. Sometimes it is a handful of rice, a sip of tree sap, a circle of dance.

We did not return with any souvenirs with us. What we carried was a quiet understanding that in the tribal heart of Koraput, culture is not for show. It is lived every day. Visiting here is one of the best ways to see intangible cultural heritage in action.

Note: The trip was courtesy of banglanatak dot com, a social welfare organisation engaged in inspiring work in the field of crafts and culture development in remote areas in collaboration with Axis Bank Foundation.