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India has happened to us. Nearly two months and no blog. We're long over due, and the longer we wait, the more things happen and the more we feel we don't know where to begin. We're pretty sure we're in India. But it's not entirely impossible that we're still on the island of Ko Lanta, having a really surreal dream. Henna tatooed hands. Two sets of toe rings. Armfulls of bangles. Jasmine flowers. Spinning tops. Broken cricket bats. Mosquito net tents. Blasting music. Dusty roads. These things seem real. Too real. Hyper-Real. Senses open. Smog. Phone Booths advertise STD local (precariously named local phone service, no thanks). Masala dosa with peanut chutney. Fresh Lime Soda Sweet (soda water with fresh lime juice and syrup you mix together into a giant fiz). Paneer butter masala with butter naan. Mastering eating with our right hands. Learning to do the head bobble. Bread Budgy. Banana Budgy. Onion Budgy. Potato Budgy. Budgy Budgy Bonda. Butterscotch ice cream. Coffeecoffee. 4:30 AM Tamil sermons. Smiles. Overnight train trips. Life-flashing-before-your-eyes-bus-trips. Dharmapuri bus to Theevatipatty. Richard can do this nicely. Microphones being used when no microphone should ever be used. Sleep? Cars overtaking buses overtaking cows overtaking trucks overtaking
The Other Side of the Tracks
Had to hop across the tracks at Danishpet Station to catch the train to Salem where we connected to the 6 hour bus ride to Madurai. motorcyles overtaking auto-rickshaws. Everything makes perfect sense and no sense at all.
One month in Tamil Nadu. The village of Danishpet, Salem District. A rural village in the midst of green hillocks. Rice patties. Brick making. Yellow haze. Thick heat. Red sunsets in the evening. Cacophony of Crows. We stayed at Bethel Agricultural Fellowship with friends. We had the opportunity to help in the school and baby home. AUNTIE CO-LOR-ING! Arulmani and Anbarasan (Mercy and Love King, twin boys nearly 5 with an affinity for coloring and sudden outbursts of enthusiasm). This is the day that the Lord has made. It was such an amazing experience we are forever grateful to have had. We are so grateful to our friends Pari and Pauline and their family for caring for us and teaching us so much.
Richard Uncle is very popular in Danishpet. He has befriended the whole village with Tamil greetings. Our friend Pauline deemed him 99.9% Indian (sadly he can never be 100% because he's from New York) whereas I, the last time I checked was only 78%, I'm a little bit shy. Rich plays badminton (known here as shuttlecock) and cricket with the boys in the
The Blues Brothers
Very interesting characters we met at the Madurai flower market. evening, and even taught the kindergarten the hokey pokey (Mike Malone if you could see him now). He's wearing dhoti and lungi quite nicely.
I, Amanda, am learning to tie jasmine buds (mallihai). I'm slowly getting the hang of it, though my fingers don't move as quickly as they ought and my flowers are still too far apart. I've been practicing on little orange flowers that no one knows the English name for, and it's something everyone agrees will be too much for me to say in Tamil. So they remain the little orange flowers that don't smell and are apparently cheaper than jasmine and are one of the three flowers worn by Tamil women in their hair: orange, jasmine, and rose (roja). With a little work I discovered the name of the orange flowers: KANAHAPARAM. I'm working on the pronunciation.
Salem shopping is too much for words. If I could, I'd bring a class of art students to a saree shop and then to the requisite matching store (and show them the bench where our friend waits for his wife to choose the fabric for her blouse that matches perfectly. Where he watches women, saree in one
had, potential blouse fabric in the other, come outside the shop into the sunlight to make sure it matches just right) because there is no where else in the world to see such an array of color. Really. Truely. No exaggeration. Saree Shop: name your price and out comes the endless selection in your price range, and naturally above. Too much color to process. The matching shop is stop two - a separate shop with every color fabric that exists in the world to match any saree you could possibly purchase. Rich and I were remarried Indian at the toe ring shop. Rings placed on my toes. Photo snapped by Pari. Rupees exchanged. Celebratory shopping ensued.
We visited Madurai. Sri Meenakshi Temple. Ghandi Museum. Flower Market: heaps of jasmine, marigolds, roses, lotus. We walked through the muddy market all dressed up in saree and dhoti. We received quite a few compliments. Who are these westerners dressed so nicely? Men tying jasmine garlands for weddings with strips from banana leaves. They tie in yarn and beads and decorations. Fingers flying. We learned you shouldn't smell flowers or herbs in front of the vendor because they are superstitious that then the
rest of the flowers will lose their scent. Wait until you get home. Alagar Koval: Hindu hillside temples. Pure black goats waiting to be sacrificed. Those that already were sacrificed being grilled and consumed on the temple floor off banana leaves. Leave your chappals (sandles) in the car and walk across the parking lot barefoot. Burnt feet. Children with heads shaved covered with sandalwood powder (done once a year to offer hair to a god, head covered with powder to keep it cool for 3-4 days until the hair starts to grow back). People pushing to rinse off under a "holy water" shower. The whole temple is wet. Water is holy because it runs down the mountain over sacred herbs. Walk passed the female goddess. A man tries to give Rich a rose garland and sandalwood powder on his head. Pushing through the crowded temple. Driving to Alagar Koval we saw a herd of cattle walking from Tamil Nadu to Kerala. Walking. From Tamil Nadu to Kerala. It will take them one month. Along the way the, would you call them Indian Cowboys?, collect more cows and get paid to let them graze on farmland so the dung will fertilize
it. An interesting encounter. Later our friend in Kerala called this beef "senior citizen beef." Yum.
Back in Danishpet: We went to the Sunday market in a nearby village of Santhapattai. Short minibus trip in the late afternoon. Bus music dutifully blasting. Rice patties role by. Once a week farmers from local villages come to sell their goods. This particular Sunday was a festival day. Streets were packed with groups of men from different villages dressed in white dhotis and shirts with white towels on their heads - wearing luscious garlands of flowers - dancing together in step - chanting - drumming. Our friend explained that they will go up to the temple and sacrifice a goat (she says this casually like it's no big deal, you know, sacrifice a goat) and then come back to the market. We are pretty much mesmerized. We go through the market. Colorful piles of tikka powder for sale. Fresh watermelon. Tomatoes. Beans. Lentils. Sacks of grains. Rice crispies. Boys going around to each stall wearing garlands of flowers ringing bells, collecting offerings, and giving ash. Flower sellers with beetlenut stained teeth. Professional jasmine tying in process. Potatoes. Curry leaves. Spices. Coffeecoffee. Chaichai.
With Flowers In Her Hair
Amanda was in heaven at the flower market. Pauline is putting in some fresh jasmine for her. Amanda must have had fresh jasmine almost everyday while we were in Danishpet. In Madurai, they tie 6 buds at a time as opposed to the Salem 4. Three giggling girls follow us around. Ropes being made. Bullock masks. Sugar Cane hacked into 4 pieces for us to suck on later at home. Baskets! We buy some in every size (neglecting to realize that it would take over 15 hours, two trips to Salem, nearly 40 people, and a whole lot of exasperation to get them packaged up, sewn in muslin, sealed with wax, and on a cargo ship to the USA). A crowd gathers and wants to know what on earth these Americans are going to do with their farm baskets in the USA? Oh, the uses are endless. Bamboo baskets are beautiful. This is unusual. Only used in the fields here. Rich carries them on this head and the crowd continues to follow and ask what the hell we're doing. The bus back to Danishpet is too packed. People are already hanging out of the windows and doors. Pauline knows the driver and they can take the baskets but not us. She also meets someone to carry her vegetables back by moto. Good to know people. We walk, our baskets arrive by bus and wait for us at the local shop, Saravana. Pauline's vegetables make their
Breakfast
We stopped after the flower market to eat breakfast. Very traditional, Idly (soft rice cake) with chutney on banana leaf. We found a safe place to eat out of the way of monkeys. We saw several shopkeepers armed with slingshots to keep the monkeys away. way and wait on the side of the road on a rock outside the moto driver's house. We walk back as the sun sets. Learn about how the bricks are made. Two at a time in a mold. Three kinds of mud mixed together. Dry in sun. Stack and fire them from within the tower. Sell for 2 ruppees a brick. Milk being delivered from a farm. Cow's milk. And apparently we've also been having buffalo milk in our coffeecoffee. Unbeknownced to us.
I am beginning to learn some Tamil letters. It's endless fun to practice. Pauline is teaching me and I practice in a child's penmanship notebook. LKG lessons from Mandikka.
One evening we pile in the Bethel jeep for a local outing. We purchase a few more baskets. Visit a jasmine farm where a lady in a purple saree gives me a handful of buds she was carrying in the end of her saree. "Mandy, would you like some? She is willing to give." Pauline ties them for us to wear as we race around the streets in the jeep. Tomatoes for sale, ripe and in season. Tailors working in dark doorways on singer sewing machines
Alagar Koval Temple
Just outside of Madurai we went to Hindu Temple up in the hills which boasted having sacred mountain water. People were fanatic about getting into the water to be clensed and bring good fortune. with wheels. Bursts of bright silk and ankle bracelets run across the street. Men lounge on rope beds. Afternoon haze thickens in the air. Red disk sun starts to set. We visit a mat making factory. Workers sort the straw. Boil it in petroleum dye. Boiling in old petrol barrels. Weaving on machines with Japanese technology. Sewing. Sorting. Shipping. Tender coconut to drink while we settle the bill. Of course some of these added to our shipping fiasco. Then a visit to Pauline's hometown village of Sarakkapillaiyur. We find a jasmine farm. The owner is not at home, so we help ourselves to some buds. I hold them in my bandana. It's peak jasmine season, April to May. It also blooms from September to October, but it's a little more expensive then. Now you can buy enough for two ladies to wear for the day for 10 rupees. Girls pick it twice a day around noon and then at 3 pm. They earn a few rupees for their work. Thunder in the hills. The sun sets on our jasmine picking. We visit Pauline's old home and drink fanta and eat biscuits. Sweet rice cakes at the neighbor's house. Driving back
Indian Hospitality
I was wearing my dhoti for the first time when we went to the Sri Meenakshi Temple in Madurai. As we entered it was obvious i was having some trouble so a very nice man offered to help. This attracted some other good samaritans to lend a hand and their opinion on how to best tie the dhoti. Pretty soon there was quite a crowd watching and helping. Quite the sight. to Danishpet we pass two large rain goddesses made of Christmas lights riding on her vehicle, the lion. Rain and local religion. The astrologers determine when it is a good time to pray for rain (some say he's keen and reads the weather forcast), and the goddess image is put up. At times they even conduct marriage ceremonies between two donkeys, two frogs, a human and a donkey. What happens when it rains, do they get a divorce? A traffic jam ensues: a truck piled miles high with sugar cane, with men sitting on top of it, tries to squeeze underneath the rain goddess in lights riding on her vehicle the lion. They just make it. Music is blasting from our tape deck. We pass under the rain goddess and fly down the little roads back to our Tamil Nadu home.
We are now in Kerala. It is a lush and verdant place. Currently we sit in Fort Cochin, where Rich pulled in a Chinese fishing net yesterday and I had a pranayama yoga class with a guru called Abe who does yoga theatre with children. We also got caught up in a communist rally after visiting the backwaters.
We somehow managed to get our photograph in The Hindu newspaper. We were famous for a day in Trivandrum. Stayed in a fishing village, Puthen Thope, outside Trivandrum. Trekked through the Western Ghats in search of elephants and tigers. None came to meet us. Only a mongoose, sambar deere, black monkeys, parrots, Malabar hornbills, and a Malabar jain squirrel. And butterflies. And leeches. Attended a Catholic engagement ceremony. Meditated at the tip of India, Cape Comorin, in a monument dedicated to Swami Vivekananda.
More to come soon. Honestly, more to come soon.
Useful Tamil Words:
Vannakam: Greetings. Also useful when three Indian ladies in the Rose Garden at Yercaud (hill resort town near Salem, crazy 20 hairpin turn drive which we survived, living proof that there is hope for those who come from a long line of exaggerators like me, the trip was just as scary as I remembered from my first trip 15 years ago, Rich and I were surprised that I hadn't been exaggerating AT ALL in my recollections) ask you to join them for lunch but you have no idea what they are saying, so you say "vannakam." They laugh and understand I have no
Sri Meenakshi Temple
Intricate carvings on one of the temple towers. This is one of the largest temples in India. There are 5 towers. It dates back to 3000 yrs ago. idea what is going on and they say "Serri Vannakam" (OK, vannakam).
Amman: Yes. (Stress the first syllable. Stressing the second means "Mom." It's hard to decifer which is which - the cause of much laughter. I try to avoid saying yes. Which isn't easy to do!
Il Lai: No! As in, no hitting each other, no, don't go in my bag, no don't climb on the table to get to your seat, no, don't stand on the merry go round while it's moving, no, I don't want to give you money or buy whatever you're selling while holding a dead rabbits foot or something similar in your hand. But thank you. Nandri.
Podum: Enough. As in, that's enough food for me thanks, enough class for today, enough children climbing on my fingers! Richard Uncle can have only 10 - one child for each finger and PODUM!
Venom: More. As in, yes I'd love another dosa.
Un Peyar Yenna: What is your name?
En Peyar Richard: My name is Richard.
Nandri: Thank you.
Rumba rumba nandri: Thank you VERY VERY much.
Urkaru: Sit down. (In a circle, in your chair, on
Amanda Auntie
We stayed with Pauline's sister Mary's family in Madurai. This is Jonah. He was a little scared of us at first but warmed up quickly. the swing).
Gavanni: Listen to me.
Yen Nai Par: Look at me.
Sigram/Chigram: Hurry up (slowly).
Va: Come.
Sigram Va: Hurry up slowly and come with me. Amanda, come with me out of the room because a bat just flew in.
Serri: OK.
Tata: Goodbye.
Chuma: Just being. As in, why are you sitting here? Chuma - I'm just sitting. Why are you walking? Chuma - I'm just walking. I am just being - doing - whatever it is I'm being or doing. Chuma.
AUNTIE!: Amanda being greeted by her little students with the most enthusiasm possible.
UNCLE!: Rich welcomed to the classroom with equal enthusiasm.
Akka: Elder sister. As in Mandikka: a slur of Mandy and Akka created by our friend's son after my first visit when I was ten. The story goes that when his little brother cried he would say, don't worry, we'll go see Mandikka on my cycle.
AUNTIE CYCLING!! (a favorite afternoon activity at the baby home).
Nalla Pillai: Good girl/good job.
Dhobi: Laundry.
Pu: Flower.
Pukkal: Flowers.
Mallihai: Jasmine.
Roja: Rose.
Thanaarai: Lotus.
Lily:
Lily.
Market: Market.
Santhai: Market (but no one really says this).
Bus: Bus.
Kanahaparam: Orange Flowers. No one I met knows the English name for these flowers.
Valaipalam: Banana.
Mambalam: Mango.
Malai: Garland.
Samanthy: Marigold.
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Ren
non-member comment
Children don't get any cuter than this..... I'm learning so much about our world through your stories. Thank you. Miss you both and so happy to see your smiling faces. xx Much love, Ren