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Published: December 11th 2010
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There was no longer room at the inn at Hostel Amigos in Lavender, so we had an extremely uneventful morning of moving all our stuff to a New location; Wow Hostel in Aljunied, which is only two stops down on the MRT. The hostel was brand, very clean and modern. But the 8 bed dorm was a tight squeeze. We ventured out briefly for food and nearly got ripped off trying to purchase ‘The King of fruits’ the Durian (you either love it or hate it, it’s like Marmite.) This fruit is banned on the MRT due to its pungent aroma of rotting onions and gas. Apparently it tastes of almonds! But I wanted to make up my own mind about this spiky fruit. Anyway, the guy tried to pull a fast one on us and charge us 10 dollars for a pack of pre sliced Durian. We would have probably been none the wiser is the boards in the background weren’t painted with $8 signs! He got pissy with us when we rejected his ‘offer’ of $8,so we left. Fruitless, we headed back to Wow for a nap. Deflated from an uneventful day, we made the decision to venture
to Little India in search of a good (cheap) meal.
This could have been the best decision we would make all week! Because after peasting on a Muslim style Biriyani and fresh mango Lassi, for only two pounds in a Hawker centre, we hit the streets to find them alive with lights and people. ‘Happy Deepavali’ flashed the rather gaudy festival lights. Event signs at the roadside pointed out the highlights of Deepavali for the upcoming month, which included a market. We headed straight across the bust road to join in with the festivities and inside the most vibrant market I have ever been to. You could barely see the way ahead for all the decorations suspended in their thousands from the ceiling of the makeshift marquee. Flowers hung everywhere, stacks of metal bangles lined the walls. There were so many goods on offer it was hard to comprehend. People poured in gathering decorations for their Divali celebrations – women offered to paint my hands with henna but I politely refused (maybe in India.)
We pushed our way down the narrow streets to the temple we had seen on the first day.
Only this time people flocked outside its entrance. There was a warm glow coming from inside and I could hear music as people dashed past us. We stood at a distance and in awe of the brightly dressed Indian priests (pujari) flowers hung from their necks and they were blessing young and old as they queued in the centre.
We weren’t sure whether to go in, or if we were even allowed and whether we were dressed appropriately. It wasn’t until a couple of men questioned us “You want to go inside?” they asked, faces gleaming “Can we?” I asked
“sure just leave your shoes there” and gestured to a mountain of shoes. We thanked them and headed in.
The atmosphere inside was electric and even though we stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of vivid saris. No one so much as batted an eyelid, honestly and I felt like such a tourist right now. We slipped into the crowd to glimpse the young girls dressed in the most divine outfits and performing intricate dance routines. I was mesmerised for over an hour, but couldn’t ignore the sweat dripping down my face for
much longer. All around tiny Ghee lamps were lit and the statues of Ganesha the elephant deity were garlanded with flowers.
Outside, I cooled off with a giant fresh coconut and when I say giant; there was over a pint of coconut milk in it and I could brely hold the thing. After I had finished the drink the vendor cleaved the shell open and scooped out the flesh, which had the consistency of fish! None of these stale hard coconuts we are used to at home. Full to the brim of food and magical sights, we headed back to Wow.
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