Matt and Meg's India Adventure!: 2011

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Us in our cabin, and the stream leading up the hill.

Wild Elephants! We got so lucky to see them!

The hotel kept brining us reused aquafina bottles,
but on the plus side, we finally got to try out
the awesome UV SteriPen Meg got for us.

Hiking around our hotel, our cabin through the trees.

Cabins from the trail

Little path up to a good viewpoint over the valley

Hill Country! Ranging from 700 to 2100 meters.

Our beautiful restored antique Keralan cabin.

The cabins at Rain Country Resort are exquisite, the doors especially.

Monday, March 7, 2011

Theyyam

Theyyam of the god Agni Gandarkanan,
Village Shrine near Kannur, Kerala

Agni Gandarkanan imposingly
circumambulating the village shrine,
Kannur, Kerala

Theyyam of Agni Gandarkanan spinning
and launching balls of fire, Kannur, Kerala

Son Theyyam, a typical first
Theyyam for young performers

Warrior of Warrior and Son Theyyam

Meg an a still human Theyyam
performer getting ready for
his transformation

Theyyam at family shrine, Kannur, Kerala

Costa Malabari

Matt in the back of the Ambassador
on the way to Kannur

Meg relaxing on the porch
at Costa Malabari

Matt on the beautiful beach
at Costa Malabari

House on the way to the beach
in Kannur

Matt in the cool chairs on the porch
of Costa Malabari guest house

The path through paradise
to the beach

Palm fronds on the path
to the beach

Sunset over the river
leading to the beach

Madurai Day Two!

Meg on the porch of our fancy colonial
bungalow overlooking Madurai

Peacrotch

Shiva and brahmins at the Lalipuja ceremony
at Meenakshi Temple

Mandala at Meenakshi Temple

East entrance Gopura at night,
Meenakshi Temple

Sitting in bed with Matt. Him typing away at the computer, "tak-a-takka-tak." I'm damp haired and hanging onto consciousness like a limp rag. It's a fulfilling time. Cleaned off and full after a long day. I lay in bed, toes achey, my neck protesting the weight of my head, bones lying heavy in my skin. On some days, I'd trot home and climb into bed. Asked what I did, the day deserves a simple: "not much." Technically, today would be one of those days.

Up, shower, quick breakfast, off to the tailor for new pants. Then to lunch, car, airport, nearly miss our flight. Chennai to Madurai. Emergency bathroom bolt. Another car to the hotel.

The hotel is terrible. Terrible death smell in the lobby, terrible creaking door to the room. It's stale and damp inside like a midnight subway car. Or old cleaning products. I'm terrible sick too: spinning from low blood sugar and diesel fumes. I pee in the dark when I can't find the bathroom light. Squat: pull up my toes in my socks. Slop, slop. Something wet on the floor. Please be water.

We decide together: this hotel is terrible. Terrible and we are leaving. We pack up our stuff, give back the key and walk the length of two allies to our new hotel. We receive the grand tour. Fresh linens, ac and clean towels. The appeal of a safe, warm bed is irresistible. On the elevator ride down, the Royal Taj Manager informs us this "a Muslim establishment" adding that this translates into no alcohol. Matt turns to me and mouths, "they'll have meat!" Even without sound, I can hear the exclamation bounce in his voice, and I mirror my happiness with an ear to ear smile.

A wonderful buffet of meat on meat, we eat in near silence, too tired to talk, just happy to be together. Happy to be here. The meal is wonderful, a carnivorous welcome after a few days of traditional Tamil vegetarian. You wouldn't know it to look at me, but I've got a pancreas that burns like a diesel engine. Just veggies and in a few hours, I'm running on fumes.

Tamil food however is still a delight. Light and flavorful, we ate thalis for lunch and grilled kale for dinner. Thalis are a traditional Tamil lunch served on a big tin tray with small tin cups filled with spices, sauces and curries. They sit atop a banana leaf, piled high with rice. The rules are simple: mix it all together, pour on the melted butter, a powdered ginger and onion spice. Then left hand in the lap, right hand in the food and shovel like you've got something to live for.

Each new tin is it's own shining and mysterious present. Spicy, sweet, curried and candied, color and texture never letting on the true flavor before it reaches one's lips. Indian cuisine here deserves it's own blog. A shrine to flavor and feast. My secret desire to loose weight was abandoned as easily as my second helping was welcomed. Why would you not watch the sunset? Why not try it all? There will be consequences at the elliptical, but I'll run off the calories while I run though the dishes in my mind and know without a doubt that life is for the savoring.

Again, here we are. My mind wondering off in dalliant directions, a sign of exhaustion. The ceiling fan above spins in lazy, off centered rhythmic humms. Matt's taka-a-tikka-ticks beside me and my pen scratches softly. My eyelids grow heavy the soft sounds lulling me to sleep. I think about today, "not too much," ------ just enough. Soft smile. Surrender to sleep.

Madurai Day One!

Wall of Murals (story of Meenakshi)
at Meenakshi Temple, Madurai, Tamil Nadu

Matt and Meg at Meenakshi Temple, Madurai, Tamil Nadu

Matt and Gopura at Meenakshi Temple North Entrance

Matt at the Lotus Tank in Meenakshi Temple

Meg at the Lotus Tank in Meenakshi Temple

Hallway in the sprawling Meenakshi Temple

Mandapa hall with stone idols in Meenakshi Temple

Gopuras of Meenakshi Temple

Elephant Kisses!

North Entrance Gopura at Meenakshi Temple

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Temples

The word that would absolutely never come to mind while in any Hindu temple I've seen so far is "austere". Everything is very... maybe the word I'm looking for is physical? Coming for a culture where the prominent religions mostly want to convey simplicity, purity, and yes austerity, it's a bit of a change. Don't get me wrong, amid the idols and pictures, garlands and coconuts, neon signs and painted statues, there's no lack of spirituality and heartfelt belief, not to mention acceptance.

Our first temple experience came upon us suddenly on the way back from Agra. Meg and I had both dozed off in the back of the car exhausted from the day and the stress of Delhi. Suddenly the car pulled over, Lucky told us to get out and said "Shoes off, Shoes off!".

We got out on the sidewalk, gave our shoes to a man sitting behind a fence, who gave lucky a ticket, walked a few feet to an old woman selling what looked to be plates of flowers. Lucky picked three out and had us pay the woman a few rupees. We followed Lucky through a gate, into a small open courtyard surrounded by a few low buildings connected by roofed walkways. We weaved our way through the complex, and as I started to wake up, I realized people were singing. Repeating a mantra, the only word of which I could catch was "Krishna".
The temple was packed. A white marble room with red and yellow rugs and decorations, three golden figures of gods in three alcoves behind a little fence. We pushed our way to the back, gave our flower plates, which turned out to be long garlands of strung flowers, to the priest, who put some on the god, and blessed three and gave them back. All the while the people were singing, and a group of young boys were starting a circular dance in the middle. We put on our blessed garlands and stopped to watch.

Well that was plan atleast, thirty seconds later a teenage brahmin with a queue (the hairstyle, not a line) pulled me into the center. Excited to be a part of it, I danced around as best I could, locked hands with the kid, and we spun around as fast as I could. I made my way back out to Meg and Lucky, and we watched for a while, then headed back to the car.
I can say in all honesty that it was the most spiritual event of my life. The energy of the place was intoxicating. Everyone was joyous and ebullient, dancing and singing, and happy to see us. It took weeks for the feeling of excitment and happiness I got whenever I thought back to the temple to fade.

To be clear, this wasn't a temple frequented by tourists. This is a roadside temple our guide goes to. We were the only people there not from that area, much less not from India. Lucky, for all that he wanted to kidnap us to his hotel and charge us extra for tours really had a strong desire to show us what he considered the "real" India. The culture he was proud of.
The rest of the drive back, we got drunk (everyone but the driver) and talked about Lucky's daughter, how he wants her to be educated and independent, an equal partner to her husband like Meg is to me. We talked about what Lucky thought the problems facing India were. Number 1 was pollution. Immediately after telling us that, he pitched an empty beer bottle (650ml) out of the window of the moving car, not even checking for people on scooters. This was the second night of the trip, and it was one of the most memorable and powerful nights of my life.

My other temple experiences were all visiting active temples during the day. As far as I can tell, Hindu temples are built with places for people to go an pray or reflect by themselves. There are shrines, but no big single building for group worship like a church.

We went to Chaturshringi in Pune, and a temple in Mahabaleshwar and a few smaller shrines. When the rickshaw drops you off at Chaturshringi, you're on a road underneath a big gate that leads into a wide courtyard ending in a hill. On either side are shops selling offering plates, most of which consist of garlands, coconuts, colored powders, and ribbons. You buy a plate, leave you shoes with the shopkeeper (or at the shoe check, but somehow I felt better leaving them at the store that wanted their plate back) and head into the temple. This involves walking up a hundred steps, past little fountains and benches, and a shrine to Ganesh. When you get to the top, there is a main building and four shrines on little hills around it (Chaturshringi means mountain with four peaks). The main shrine is a white tiled room, with orange plastic benches on the back, and metal railings dividing it up into lines. Yeah I'm aware that sounds like a bus station. All around the walls are paintings and drawings in many styles and many levels of artistry of the goddess. You can stop on the benches and pray and then line up and approach the shrine with two golden idols, already covered in garlands and offerings from people before you. You give you offerings to the god and goddess, tapping your finger in the red powder and touching your forehead between your eyes. The attending priest will give you back some portion of your offering, so you can take it home to your local or personal shrine. You can then pray, exit the room, and head to the surrounding shrines. Or you can start running up and down the steps in your track suits for exercise, like two guys were doing while we were there.

Tomorrow we head to a huge and busy temple, Sri Meenakshi Sundareshwar in the temple city of Madurai. We've spent the past few days looking at icons of South India's religious past, and I'm excited to just stand around tomorrow, watching the crowds in the temple, seeing a modern and active part of South India. Interesting side note, I'm currently writing this from the bed of Royal Court hotel, owned by an Islamic hotel group. This fact was explained to us when we checked in so that we would know they didn't serve alcohol. My first thought was, "I'll bet they have meat!" Turns out that after a few days of no meat, I'll gladly trade alcohol for a "non-veg" menu.

Vacation!

(I wrote this the day after we left Pune, when we didn't yet have consistent internet)

So we're here in our hotel in Mamallapuram / Mahabalipuram. It's no "Central Park by Inox" in Pune, but it's plenty nice. The Mamalla Heritage hotel has a rooftop seafood restaurant, clean and air conditioned rooms, and a very tempting pool.

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that it's hotter here? Pune's weather was perfect, 70s or 80s during the day, 60s at night, and not very much humiditiy. Here in the state of Tamil Nadu, it's upper 80s during the day, maybe a few degrees colder at night, and way more humid.

Our second domestic flight, from Pune to Chennai, was quick and easy. We already had a flight under our belts, so we knew the tricks. For instance, you get to leave your shoes on at security, but you can actually have way less liquids and gels in your carry-on than you can at home. Most passengers here check their belongings, and just bring a little bag or nothing at all. Speaking of carry-ons, make sure you have luggage tags on them so that security can stamp them. If you try to get on the plane with a bag with an unstamped tag, you have to get searched all over again, after waiting for everyone else to get on the plane. We didn't make that mistake again.

An hour or two of sitting on the plane watching a thunderstorm in the distance, and talking about how amazing it was to be here in India, and we had landed in Chennai.

Once we landed we headed straight for the prepaid taxi stand. We had learned another lesson in Delhi about cabs and touts. This time we paid upfront at the government controlled booth. A car from the Chennai airport to our hotel in Mamallapuram, about 60 km, was approximately 25 bucks. We ended up spending an hour in the back of a sweet old Ambassador, windows down, on a new and well kept road (better than any in Chicago). Along the way we saw a bunch of political posters written in flowing Tamil, mostly with a giant picture of Jayalalitha. Look her up, the politics of South India are pretty interesting.

So our hotel is cute, the room is clean, the town is relaxed and calm. On our way to dinner at "Moonrakers" we saw more white people than I think I've seen in the past three weeks. Most of them seemed fine, but we definitely saw a few intollerable "hippies" having an "India experience", wearing "Indian" clothes I've yet to see on anyone outside of movies or California, and playing four chord songs to the shopkeepers at stores that only sell to tourists. I swear we're polite and open minded to everyone except pretentious rich "hippies".

Anyway, dinner was great. We're going to spend tomorrow admiring the stone carvings that the town is famous for, and one of these days I'm going to write out my thoughts from the past three weeks.

Playing Cricket, err Catch Up

I'm sure all of you are aware that the Cricket world cup is going on right now. I've learned the rules and I'm trying to pay attention, but I'm not even the biggest fan of baseball, and this game takes even longer to finish.

Anyway, I mentioned a little while ago that I got into a nice routine the first few weeks of working in Pune. I enjoyed the differences in culture, my drive to work, how the lines (or "queues") worked in the cafeteria, and the restaurants we'd all meet up at after work. I was having a blast, and the days flew by.

The morning after Meg and I had our philosophical discussion about chance, I left breakfast and headed out to the ZS car. My head was still full of things to write down, when I noticed we had a new driver this week. Oh, yeah, company cars picked us up and dropped us off everyday, and they do that for all ZS employees, it's as nice as it sounds. This week's driver had bedecked his car in blessed garlands from a temple. There were strands of flowers hung in looping arcs over the front grill. I pulled out my notebook and starting jotting notes about temples.

On the way to work, we passed a herd of goats being shepherded along, and then a street puppy in the middle of the road, looking so cute and happy, unaware that cars and scooters narrowly avoided crushing it. Ten meters later, a little girl, no more than six, was squatting on the side of the road peeing, also oblivious to the cars driving by. I pulled out my notebook and started writing notes about my drive to work, the disparity in incomes and styles of life on display in a one kilometer stretch.

(I'll post separate entries about temples and Magarpatta drive, they got a little long for this post)

A random list of smaller things about our time in Pune:

There are at least two "Burger King" restaurants here, but they aren't the Burger King you're thinking of. They do have beef apparently, unlike Burger Barn, which sounds just terrible. There are a few actual McDonalds, with the Maharashtra (veggie) burger replacing the regular big macs, and the same old chicken nuggets, and an all dark meat KFC.
Shisha Cafe is an awesome hookah bar in this little fenced in area of bars and restaurants on North Main called ABC Farms (the one with the picture of a cow). Shisha is on the second floor of one of the buildings, and it's just a metal roof with decorative thatchings and oriental rugs covering tables, deep couches, and a little stage. They mostly play jazz, they have live music, and some amazingly good kebabs. It's often packed, and with a surprisingly small percentage of foreigners.
We also liked Sigree, and loved the Great Punjab. Both serve amazing kebabs and have a great atmosphere. Sigree is a bit fancier, but the staff at the Great Punjab are the best trained of any we've experience so far in India. That didn't stop three waiters from hovering over me, constantly refilling my water and beer as I waited for Meg to meet me. Still, even the hovering is less grating here than at other restaurants. We don't know if it's a cultural trait, but it's probably just the availability of relatively cheap labor?
Ice cream here is amazing. Real ice cream, no stabilizers, no fake sugars.
On the way to Mahabaleshwar we stopped at Dhom Dam. Or we tried to stop, but were turned away because a South Indian movie was being shot there.
The road to Dhom Dam wove it's way through a little village, and our friend Shivendra filled us in on some interesting facts. First of all, bulls aren't really used very much any more, obviously lady cows provide milk, and some bulls help provide more lady cows, but most of the bull's jobs have been outsourced to machines. We still see the occasional bullock cart, but we also saw a few bored bulls. They did have pretty painted horns though. Secondly, temples are often the tallest building in a village, so they make sure to ground them and use them as lightning rods to protect the village.
Oh, Jenny! In Indian villages they have a special "Horse Ambulance". We saw it!
We had been seeing a bunch of older men with bright orange dyed hair. Shivendra explained that these were men who had gone gray and wanted to dye their hair, but if they tried to dye it brown or black, it would be obvious their hair had actually gone gray. Dying it orange apparently looks like less a cover up, and more like a stylistic decision.

I think that's all for now. I learned and experienced so many things during our three weeks in Pune, but they were all so cultural and subjective, it's hard to capture them.

Arjuna's Penance

Tomorrow is Matt's birthday, we're in India and I am reminded about how unpredictable life can be. It's the first time we've really spent a few days totally together since Delhi. I'm aware that I've been exploring alone a lot, as we stumble over each other a bit bargaining for cabs and fending off street hawkers.

Right now, I look down at my painted hands, the ornate detailed henna I got a few weeks ago, fading away and I think about our little room in Pune, lovely 509. Now, Matt and I are on a rooftop restaurant of our hotel, airing out after a quick swim and an long, hot day in the Mamallapuram sun. Our little guest house garden is lit with strands of winking lights and features statuets of busty women dancing and bathing. In the distance we gaze toward the light house, its shinning eye cricling round and round. Far in the distance a barroaton muzeen calls the faithful Muslims to prayer. Mixed with the singing melodies of buses and gnarly growl of stone carving workshops, Mamallapuram is no ordinary city by the sea.

We spend our day roaming around millenia old ruins. With the sun already high, and the humidity hanging think in the air we headed off to the Shore Temple; one of the oldest stone monument in Southern India. My darling Matt had done all his research, knew the stories and helped me identify the characters. I'll let him elaborate on Arjuna's Penance, and the spectacle of the carvings. What did strike me as we walked along the rows of carved cows and worn down pillars, is that everything eventually returns to where it came. Man's efforts, the celebration of life and love and toil. To carve a stone, a gigantic labor of earthly devotion still can stand erect some 3,000 years later. However, the once elaborate figures, the deep and fantastic relief sculptures, have been smoothed over by the sea. Lapped into submission and faded. They look to me like ghosts, shadows of devotion, of memories and cultures long since erroded into time.

After a quick lunch we were off to Arjuna's Penance. One short kilometer west of Shore Temple, Arjuna's Penance is compled of thunderous boulders tumbled together. Large slabs of dense, grey stone jut out the earth and litter the tropical trees and low shrubbery. Sprinkled with monkeys, goats, the occasional wild dogs and travelers, Arjuna's Penance feels leagues removed from the ancient ruins of Shore Temple. Amongst the boulders, huge cave temples have been carved into the stone. The craft is breath taking, even all these years later, and one cannot help but imagine the sisterns of sweat spilled in their construction. We climbed up and down the boulders, sometimes with the assistance of ancient steps notched into the sides, other time holding hands gingerly as we balanced on the slick slabs. For the most part, the park is unguarded and unregulated. Unfortunately, this means lots of litter and a chance of young couples to sneak away and cuddle. We even saw a monkey steal an young girls small bag of treats out of her hand. Monkeys are a personal least favorite of mine, with there creepy human hands and thorny little teeth. Baby monkeys, like most baby anything are undeniably cute, but there charm quickly wears off.

All in all, I have once again, here I have felt a great sense of longing. I long to work my hands, at building something, anything of significance. I feel the intimacy of many generation of crafts people. Also, sitting atopt the giant boulder with Matt, gazing out over the city, the sea breeze in our face, I am reminded how lucky I am. Matt and I, arm in arm watching monkeys play in the sun, on an adventure of a life time. I am trying to cherish all these moments. Trying to tell him how lucky I know I am.

-Meg