festival madness

Today is traditionally  the maddest day of the four day Pongal holiday and, as the fates would have it , I am in the maddest town.
This is the day when everyone goes out, literally. It was,  I was told,   'mandatory' for family outings to the sea. And Mamallaporum is Tamil Nada's place to go..despite the fact that it consists of a handful of village streets and is about the size of Kingston.
Famous normally for its ancient stone temples and rock carving (its a world heritage site) it is also infamous for its crowds at Pongal, esp on the third day,ie today.
After the welcoming rituals and family feast, the third day is to celebrate  animals. Or, the locals ns call it 'the day of the bull'. Luckily the traditional bull fighting 'to honor the cow' has disapeared (mostly).
i now know understand more about the importance of Pongal, the need to celebrate the new harvest season in a county like Tamil Nadu where the majority of the population depends on agriculature.  The name itself means to 'overflow' and is cried out over copious pouring of milk and rice to usher in the holidays.
This morning when I set off for my walk along the beach it was relatively quiet here. As  I returned along the sands to the village I could hear the roar of incoming crowds. By  early afternoon back in the cool haven of my tiny room (cell) the noise outside was deafening. Even the roaming cows had taken sanctuary against walls leaving the streets to the maddening crowds.
When I did venture out I found there was a great atmosphere, the beach resembled a giant market/funfair, tightly packed with bodies but everyone smiling, greeting and waving, often I was handed babies or even a puppy to hold for a photo op, rather surreal. Not often I'm taken for a model!
The dance festival continues every evening and tonight  I saw the energectic 'flok' dancing...thats folk dancing, methinks...aerobic zumba type moves which I rather fancied joining in but didn't think the professionals would appreciate it.
An ensemble traditional dance was fascinating not just due to the hilarious lack of ensemble but also to  the hairy, moustached and bejewelled 'female' dancer in the all 'female' troupe. His effeminate grace and charm was greeted with much applause and cheers.  So a mad, mad day -but turns out that I've ended up in the right place at the right time to join in the madness!

Mamallorapurum

There were many disappointing aspects to this b and b but also it turns out some surprisingly good ones-the bed was indeed comfy, very rare in India where the norm is a mat not a mattress, breakfast was great, fresh guava juice, cheese (processed but you can't have everything) omlette, toast and jam and coffee.
After a week of traditional Indian breakfasts a western one was just fine by me.
My low mood of yesterday lifted still further as a I walked for miles along the beach watching the crashing surf and enjoying the solitude as an unusually cloudy sky was keeping the crowds away.
For me though the overcast morning was a welcome relief to my English skin and the fresh wind a relief from the usual dense heat.
I wandered so far I found myself with no water and no town in sight, just a handful of exclusive beach resorts. Which one welcomed me in-not  the 5 star western one, but the private holiday camp for  Indian workers.
The luxury hotel chain I will not name said only room guests could 'buy' water. The other local camp ushered me in with generous welcome and insisted on giving me free water.
Revived, I returned to find my host here had indeed been as good as his word and provided me with a booster for wifi in my room.  My faith in human nature restored!!
I passed a pleasant hour with my fellow guests, a retired naval commander and his wife, sitting outside in the shady dust bowl of a garden before venturing out to explore the rock sculptures and temples this town is famous for.

Rock sculptures

Carvings are everywhere, not just inscribed into the rocks  but also on ancient temple ruins. It is  free to climb/slip/scramble on the rocks despite their height. Surviving ruins and pillars from dynasties long ago suddenly appear around every corner.The photo shows one sculpture which gave me quite a turn...

Scary Sculpture

Watching the setting sun from a high rock looking over the delta was superb.

Sunset over the delta

Back down on the ground, I walked the roads lined with sculpturers, where the noise of chisels on granite is constant.
The town is a world famous buyers market, apparently, and the stall holders don't mind photos as they are proud of their work. From tiny necklaces to the jumble of figures in my pic to enormous looming statues-as spectacular as the ancient ruins and drawings.
Back again to the dance festival where I watched a story unfold in delicate  intricate hand and feet movements by dancers moving to traditional music. The holiday crowds loved it, and today, feeling happier,  I too was able to appreciate and enjoy this special festival event.

Lost in the crowd

After the exhilaration and sensory overload of the last week, it was inevitable that homesickness would kick in sooner rather than later. Today was that day. Awoke sad to leave the friendly guest house in Chennai where the family have made me so welcome and, despite wanting to leave the city chaos, sad to leave familiar territory.
I treated myself to a taxi, it being Pongal and everyone on the roads and the buses. The gov lay on buses to take city dwellers home to their villages so as we left Chennai I joined the mass exodus for the long weekend.
Coming to the seaside heritage town of Mamallorapurum turned out to be like arriving in Brighton on bank holiday Monday. Manic.
My new b and b is not nearly as nice but expensive by Indian standards...but I booked ahead and that's the price you pay.
Off I set to fight my way through the crowds to stride along the sands, and did find the 'posher' side where there were other tourists... Eureka.  Pleasant south Indian beach, reminiscent of Goa, though marred by discovery of dead turtles, apparently the fisherman catch them in their nets so they are collateral damage. Such a sad sight.

The Beach

and sadly a dead Turtle

By the time dusk fell my homesickness has caught up with me in waves. The gorgeous sunset over the town’s renowned sand sculptures and a visit to the annual dance festival was a feast for the eyes but as I wandered home my eyes were not full of the sights but full of tears for home and family.

Sunset over the town

Dance Festival

The staff here, who had been very standoffish, saw I was upset as I crept back to my cell and turned out to be very kind after all. I have been promised wifi in my room by tomorrow rather than just in the public areas as is at present..I’m not holding my breath but it was sweet that they realised I wanted to be in touch with my family in private when I explained I was upset not because I had been robbed as they thought but was missing home. Inidians value family intensely and understood this without the need for more words.

On the plus side, I have discovered the bed is actually not too hard so the day has ended on an up note!!

Pongal

Today is the beginnng of the four day festival of Pongal, a very auspicious time in the Tamil calandar. As I write fireworks are going off around me and the day has been full of celebrations where, with true Indian generousity, I have been welcomed with beckoning hands of genuine hospitality.
A morning walk to the local temple just out of curiosity as I had no idea what to expect of this holiday coincided their Pongal special annual ceremony involving complex rituals such as pouring boiling  milk  over the deity in a hour's holy ceremony accompanied by traditional music and fragrant incense.

Temple decorated for Pongal 

I was welcomed in, given a front seat (on the ground, obviously but I am getting  used to the continual coating of dust and dirt now) blessed with holy water, anointed on the forehead with a special mark, given ceremonial flowers and oranges and invited for lunch.

I politely declined and made my way by bus to George Town to escape the intense midday heat by enjoying my favourite lassi -the staff now greet me as a friend, which is lovely-and walking the grounds of the leafy High Court compound,  a stunning expanse of classical  red coloured buildings topped with mosaic coloured domes.
Walking the narrow lanes of this ancient district for a final foray I came across another temple in full festival mode. Drawn in by colourful streamers and insistant worshippers it was impossible to refuse their hospitality and I was given special extra large portions of the communal Pongal feast,  tamarind rice, chick pea 'something', ghee to mix and a gorgeous fig based desert. Great for a veggie like me and delicious.
The kindly hosts even found me a spoon as my attempts to use my hand was not as good as usual as I was nervous... I'd been invited to sit with the priests on a step and not on the ground and just could not work my fingers.

Pongal Feast

Chennai  is just not a city that attracts tourists so I am usually the only  western face-not always a good thing but today a bonus as everyone wanted to show me the spirit of Pongal.
Walking home I fell into step with a passing evening temple parade and then wandered home thinking the day was over. I was wrong.

Pongal Parade

With darkness comes the parade, the firecrackers, the fireworks...I got literally swept up in one mad chaotic march - this city certainly knows how to party! Drums, music, flower petals flung from every window, illuminations of every size and colour: the city transformed into spectacular party mode.
Happy Pongal 2015 to everyone in England from this special day here.

highs and lows

Nothing much here is 'average'. it is either sublime or ridicuous,  expensive or cheap, easy or impossible, beautiful or ugly.....
Today was what is rapidly becoming normal; i.e.all of the above.
Post breakfast (the rice balls and riaita are getting boring now-the exotic has rapidly become  mundane and I'd actually like a nice piece of toast and a cuppa really) I set off to find my missing temple from yesterday, the Kapaleeshwar, the most anciet and active of Chennai's numerous temples.
It is indeed spectacular, striking colourful pillars looming to the skies. The pavements are lined with coloured drawings for blessings-I liked the elephant design and also couldn't resist a quick 'selfie' with an elephant statue.

Pavement Drawing

Me and the Elephant Statue

Obviously photos of the actual deities are prohibited and as a non Hindu I'm not allowed into the inner sanctums, but its fine to snap away from the outside.I'm a great fan of the Sacred Cows looking down from every corner and of the sacred trees decorated with prayers.

Temple Information board

Various outside views of the Temple

The journey here was the India 'mix' in essence. I leapt on what I had been told was the right bus only to find myself in the wrong place. Not the SanTome I intended as the bus dropped me at the tamil church not the RC one. But serendipitiously I was now in the right place for this temple! Which explains why I couldn't  find it yesterday. Cutural misunderstandings but the fates decided I would find it today, as people will say here.
It is truly beautiful but alongside the sublime sacred sensory high of the temple also come the lows. Beggars. Lots of them. And I stand out so attract my very own line of followers. Getting away eventually becomes a priority ............getting angy here is a no no so to save my sanity I have to keep on the move.
A restorative siesa and onto another adventurous afternoon. The bus to Besant Nagur dropped me in the middle of nowhere. A very busy city suburb middle of nowhere. Instead of the temple i intended to visit. Luckily a passing couple spotted my plight within minutes and came to my rescue, hailing the right bus and making it stop in the middle of the intersection just for me.
The Ashtalakshmi Temple sits on the beach outside Chennai and provided a fascinating, if confusing, hour of mysterious shrines and towers-here I was welcomed in for a price regardless of my non Hindu status-blessings bestowed for a reasonable donation...
A walk along the picturesque Elliots beach brought me to the upmarket corner of KFC and Costa. Standing out in neon glory against the shacks and tea stalls.  And I was craving not so much the coffee but a western loo.
It was worth every penny (70 rupees-that's about 70p) to treat myself toan enormous chocolate brownie sundae with a free drinking water and the use of a western toilet with seat and soap. Oh joy. Real high!
Home on the bus in the reddening skies. Chennai is not a tourist city but I have  found it an absorbing one. I am learning the city ways, the districts, the vast gaps between rich and poor, the multinational firms and shopping malls and local alleys/slums , I am getting to grips with the social and cultural norms here, and rediscovering South Indian food and drinks.
Final purchase of the day-after my expense in KFC I paid 8 rupees (8p) for a Tamil spicy sweet boiling hot chai in a paper cup from a bike vendor. High end/low end both equally delicious.

a day of surprises

A day which typifies India-nothing is as expected, but the unexpected is the experience.
This morning a frustrating search to hastily replace a ripped suitcase-thanks, Emirates-I saw so many caught on the ancient baggage carousel at arrivals in Chennai without realising at the time one of them was mine.
Taken for  ride (literally) by a auto rickshaw driver to the impossible to find shop my hosts recommended, I ended up in the shop literally around the corner called Bag Zone and yes, it looks like every one in every city. Huh. Ah well, I have a bag, though how long this will last is anyone's guess.
And with wifi down I felt low, out of touch and out of spirits.
So as in England, when down, I set off for a walk. And discovered an afternoon full of amazing surprises.
First to San Thom cathedral, by far more spectacular then I had imagined, and built on the tomb of St Thomas, one of only three cathedrals, one of the others being The Basilica in Rome, to share the honour. This city houses as many churches as temples. mainly Catholic, but there are many many other churches of all denominations.

San Thom Cathedral

Revived by a restful shady quiet time -and a mango ice cream and sweet coffee-I set off to join the followers of the holy man swami Vivekananda for free 'birthday' celebrations at the spectacular pink building on the seafront where  he once stayed centuries ago. Complete with 20 min 3 D fim-where, somewhat embarrassingly, I was given a private showing in English whilst locals waited patiently outside-plus historical artefacts and photos of his life and teachings, rather bizarely this odd place captured my imagination.

Two more surprises lay in wait. The first was to stumble unexpectedly upon the stunning beautiful Sri Parathasparethy Temple. The white stone images line the pyramid to the skies behind the waters of the ghat. and as the sun was setting white clad disciples stepped out to a fanfare of drums to perform the evening blessings ceremony, giving and receiving alms from the faithful.

Sri Parathasparethy Temple

And as I slowly retraced my steps  home I found that where early had been a square of market stalls and traffic bedlam was now reincarnated as a stage embellished with a mulititude of flowers, where dancers were performing ancient south Indian music and acts amidst a blaze of floodlights and an appreciative audience.
That's the thing about India-for all the dust, dirt, poverty,smells, etc etc, it is also full of joyful,  glorious surprises!

The Kindness of Strangers

Day 4.

a day of surprises, especially the surprising friendliness of strangers. Post breakfast I dodged the lurking rickshaw driver to locate a bus to my chosen destination of Fort George...which I had merrily trudged past on my long walk through the city on my earlier route march. A young man not only showed me the way but insisted on walking with me and waiting until said bus, although he had been heading the other way. I fully appreciate the need to  keep my wits about me here but it also continually surprises me how genuinely helpful people are.

Local Bus - Today's mode of transport

The fort -one of the first bastions of the British in Madras-is still an army barracks but there is a charming church and a musty, dusty museum full of relics of colonial Britain.

Outside The Fort

Glories of the past give way outside to  the tangled alleys of George Town(the fort was once known as white town and this area outside the wall as black town). It being Sunday, the heaving mass of humanity was quieter than usual and I was able to find the very cafe where my fab malai (buttermilk) lassi awaited.

My favouite Lassi Parlour

Revived I set off for a walk, only to stumble on a shanty/slum town of mud huts, beggars and dire poverty.
to my amazement there was no animosity, just curious smiles and waves. Not even a request for money-the constant background noise to my presence normally in the city.
Still I did not linger!
Back to the bus, and yet again helpful pointings and smiles. I decided, as it was Sunday, to do what literally everyone in Chennai does on Sunday, and go to the beach.
Despite the warnings, it does appear many do swim-spectacularly dangerous looking surf but then the sands come with hawkers, horses, beggars, stalls, motorbikes -so that's not easy either!
But it is all good natured, a festival for the senses.

Assorted Beach stalls

And the Funfair

The warm red of the evening sunset glows on the gold statues to local and national heros,monuments, ancient and modern buildings and colourful temples.