Winter Break Trips Part II: Touring Tamil Nadu in the South of India

After an 8 year absence, I got to return to Tamil Nadu, this time, with my lovely travel companion. Since doing my student teaching at Kodaikanal International School in the fall/winter of 2003, I have wanted to return to this land that retains so much ancient characteristics and cultural traditions while existing as one of the technological hotbeds in the entire world. Many times, we witnessed the unexplainable images of modernity coinciding with traditional life. Here are just a few stories from the trip.

Here's the route: Chennai, Trichy, Tanjore, Pondicherry, Mahabalipuram, and back to Chennai to fly home



Chennai: We flew to Chennai in the morning and by 3:30pm we were sitting at a free concert at the Music Academy of Madras (the colonial name for Chennai) for the 84th Annual Festival of Indian Classical Music. This festival has faithfully kept Carnatic Music culture alive for decades and we enjoyed ourselves. Although neither of us has a detailed grasp of the complex musical structure, we enjoyed being a part of the live performance and watching devoted fans take notes. The experience was akin to my first Phish concert -- fans applauding at seemingly random occasions and people writing down the setlist (of which raga and tala was being played). We purchased several recordings and hope to learn more about this ancient musical art form.

Trichy: The draw of Trichy is that it has the largest Hindu temple complex in all of India. With the rain just abating to give us time to explore the city, we enjoyed seeing the temple full of life. We enjoyed the juxtaposition of neon signage on top of thousand year old stone carvings. Another highlight of Trichy was the Rock Fort, a towering fort/temple looming over the city center. It seemed that locals at both sites were surprised to see foreigners and we were approached by many curious worshipers eager to make a Western friend. Rachel, with her billowing blond hair, was quite an attraction. One girl kept on touching and twirling her hair!

Tanjore: The city of Tanjore is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world. It achieved real prominence during the Chola Era when it was the capital ruled by Rajaraja, whose empire reached all the way from present day South India to SE Asia, Malaysia, and Indonesia. It was New Years Eve and the main temple complex was filled with worshipers, most wearing ritual red. This was our favorite site of the trip (and perhaps all of India!) as we took hours to explore the many carvings, the huge metal bull or Nandi, and the enormous pyramid-like temples. The carvings are very similar to those at Ankor Wat in Cambodia (high on the travel list for us) which was constructed after the temples in Tanjore based on the artistic elements here. Very cool historical connections. We even spent time waiting in line to get blessed by the high priest -- a very cool experience.

For us, one of the most meaningful experiences of the trip was meeting with a traditional bronze sculptor. We spent a couple hours with Mr. Kathirvel who's family has been in the industry for six generations -- over 400 years -- and he walked us through the "lost wax method" of the Cholan empire. After learning and seeing the wonderful work, we chose two pieces: a large statue of Shiva as the Nataraja or Fire Dancer and a small elephant. Both will be treasured possessions from a bygone age of artists.

Pondicherry: Taking a break from ruins and old culture, we explored the city of Pondicherry for two days. A uniquely French colony until the mid-1960s (remember, India achieved Independence from Britain in 1947), Pondicherry features many French colonial buildings in various states of repair (or disrepair). It is decidedly NOT a provencal French town, but the coffee was great and yes, I had steak for dinner twice (and it wasn't that imitation steak we get here in Mumbai -- water buffalo -- but real steak). Since Pondy is a big weekend holiday destination, we had to book a hotel that was higher in price that our usual budget accommodations. Oh well, we slept on soft cotton sheets in a French colonial mansion and relaxed.

Mahabalipuram: Our final stop featured the ruins of a coastal empire, the Pallavas, who ruled the area during the 6th-9th centuries. They traded with Romans, exchanged artistic ideas with North Indian Hindus, and were some of the first Hindus to incorporate pre-Hindu tribal beliefs into South Indian tradition. They are also more directly descendant (genetically and linguistically speaking) to Africans that their North-Indian counterparts. This area was hit hard during the 2004 Tsunami and we spoke with several locals who were still struggling to rebuild their businesses. Impressively however, the only structure to survive on the coast was the 6th c. Shore Temple.

All in all, Tamil Nadu gave a much older perspective of life here in India along with the incredible cultural diversity that this country includes. This final story sums that up:

We spoke with a shopkeeper about us living in Mumbai, which he had visited several years earlier. As a Tamil-speaker, he was overwhelmed with Mumbai and could barely get around. No one dressed like him, very few restaurants served food he even recognized, his way of practicing Hinduism had no forum here, and he resorted to using his very broken English to communicate. In short, he was more of a foreigner in Mumbai than we are.

If you are interested in more details, check out the Picassa album, "Winter Break 2010," where we have put photos and comments.

Take care and as Rick Steves says, "Keep on traveling,"
Reid and Rachel

Winter Break 2010

More thoughts on poverty

We're confronted by it daily here, and it is so much different than the young woman asking me to buy a roast chicken in the Cub parking lot on Lake Street in Minneapolis. That I can do.

But here it hits you so much harder, and often. Today on my way back from some errands, a young teenage girl was sitting on the sidewalk, clearly not where she really lives. She was alone. She jumped up when she saw me and started asking me for money. Usually, I carry biscuits (crackers), but didn't have any with me, and often after you've given them food, they still persist for money anyway. I kept walking, the pain and self hate growing inside. The internal battle that happens everytime. I think of Jesus and his teachings, or, even just from listening to my brother talk about these things, and all I want to do is get rid of everything I own and give it to the poor. But, the last thing I want is to give to a begging ring, or be a part of exploiting this girl. The tour guide yesterday at Dharavi talked about how slum people are all employed, and the street people choose to live that way, that they would rather just beg than work. That there would be jobs for them if they wanted, but, that they can often get more from the begging rings. But then this involves exploiting children, or injuries inflicted on people to look more pathetic and needy. I wondered how much truth their is in those statements. But it scares me enough to not want to ever give money.

Why have I been given such a privileged life? Every step away, and every step she follows, for three blocks, breaks my heart, over and over again. Because regardless of who put her on that street, she is still a young woman, whether trapped by circumstance, or there by choice, that is in need, and I have so much more than I will ever need. I say a prayer for her, and finish my walk home.

I know I will never have the answer for this. But I do know that after living here, I will never complain about money again.

Rachel

Visit to Dharavi

For those of you who don't know, Dharavi is the largest slum in all of Asia, and it is a 10 minute rickshaw ride away from our apartment.

A little background: the land was originally a marsh. Builders threw their construction waste into the marsh, eventually making it solid enough for people to start living on top (this is as far back as the late 1800's). Now, over 1 million people reside in the 1.7 square kilometer area. The land is actually quite valuable (situated between the highest priced living neighborhood and the highest priced commercial area in Mumbai).

There is an NGO that runs tours through Dharavi. Their hope is to dispel the negative connotation that people have of a "slum". There are legal and illegal slums. Dharavi is a legal slum, where the land is owned by the government, rented by the people.

There is a surprising number of industry, mostly involving recycling (plastics, leather, aluminum, paint cans, cooking oil cans), but also in textiles (luggage, clothes, pottery). There are a couple schools, mosques, churches, temples, even a bakery. They have running water, and even some of the higher end apartments have AC and satellite TV.

They stress the focus on community and peace. It is one of the safest places in Mumbai. If the community finds out you are a criminal in anyway, you would get forced out. The people are very proud to be from Dharavi, and love their community very much.

As we walked through, many of the children were super excited to say hello or practice their English with us. One teenage girl even had our friend Twyla hold a baby. In that same group, a younger girl insisted I share her bag of cheetos (how did she know I love those?) An older woman came up to us, with her hands in the prayer position, touched her chin and forehead and bowed. It was clear this is a loving community.

And yet, walking around, there was plenty to make you not want to drop everything and move in. It was extremely dirty. Open sewers, dead pieces of rats, standing water, trash, chemicals. Most of the living areas are so crammed, walking through the extremely narrow alleyways is dark and wet. Some of the industry there is not exactly health or environmentally friendly (melting down aluminum and plastic, the workers don't wear masks or protective gear and the fumes flow right into the air). The chemicals and waste flow right into the river (the smell is indescribable) which flows out to the ocean (no wonder there is a 7 mile dead zone around Mumbai).

There is talk of demolishing Dharavi, clean up the area, build high rises for the residents. What's the right answer? The living conditions are tough. And yet, the people are happy, hardworking, and love their community. The industry there employs thousands of people. Those exact living conditions have created that special shared human experience. And that would be a tragedy if lost.

Picture taking is not allowed, but, if you really want to see the ins and outs of Dharavi, our friends Matt and Drew shared with us a documentary called "Slumming It" by Kevin McCloud. It does a much better job of showing the extremes of this place. There really is no good way to write about it, but, I hope I've shared a little of it with you.

Rachel

A Goan Thanksgiving

On Thanksgiving Day, we began the morning with a Peace Assembly dedicated to a remembrance of the 26-Nov Mumbai Terrorist attacks. The event, designed by our superintendent, was a celebration of unity through music and brought together the entire K-12 school in the gym. Rachel lead a group of elementary singers in a rousing rendition of "Peace Like a River," which featured actions that even our older students enjoyed. Tom, the choir teacher I work with, led a group singing a Hebrew peace song, a senior music student did a piano/voice song she composed, and the faculty rock band played "Gimme Some More" and a combo of "Give Peace a Chance" and "Hey Jude." We ended with much of the school singing along with "na, na na na na na na ..." We were a proud music dept!

That evening, many teachers went on a long weekend holiday. We joined Greg, Twyla, and Waciuma on a trip to Goa! We arrived in time for a late dinner of delicious seafood.

Friday morning, we took a tour of Old Goa, the original Portuguese capital before they moved the city because of frequent malaria outbreaks. Between 1540 and 1961, the Portuguese ruled Goa as a profitable spice colony. (Note the end date: the rest of India achieved independence in 1947!) Amazingly, during the 16th-18th centuries, Goa actually had a greater population than London or Lisbon!. The legacy left from the Portuguese is everywhere, but it is easily seen in the great cathedrals and churches. This is Se Catedral and it is the largest cathedral in all of Asia (it also contains the largest bell) and was constructed in the early 1600s.

The other very impressive sight in Old Goa is the original Fransiscan monastery complex, which is in ruins. Walking around the broken stones, half-standing walls, and chipped azulejo tiles (that reference is for the those who've studied in Spain or Puebla, Mexico) over looking a valley of palm tress is a surreal experience. These monks were VERY far outside of their comfort zone.

After seeing the glory of the Goan colony, the next day we toured the source of all that revenue -- a spice plantation. After an hours drive through a beautiful countryside of rice paddies, palm trees, banana trees, and soft rolling hills, we reached our destination. There, we got to see pepper, cinnamon, cardamon, cloves, beedle nut, vanilla, tumeric, corriander (cillantro), pinapple, and a few others I might be forgetting. For someone who loves to know what food looks like in its original form, it was a joyous day.

The other great part of being on the planation was the great lunch that came with our tour ticket. We enjoyed freshly cooked food with locally grown spices.

And the icing on the cake was some great birding -- notably a kingfisher (India's national bird) and a hornbill.

The rest of the time was spent on the beach. Waciuma and Rachel enjoyed massages, Greg chatted it up with many children selling peanuts, we had several great meals, body-surfed in the very warm waters, and even bought psychedelic laser pointers.

Hope you had a great Thanksgiving too!

Crazy Mumbai

As I was out running this morning on the road that hugs the rocky rubble strewn coast of the Arabian Sea, I came upon an amazingly strong fish smell. This is not unusual in that in addition to the fact that it's the ocean, there happens to be an indigenous Koli fishing village about a five minute jog down the street from our apartment. This smell was much stronger than any I'd ever smelled in India -- and that's saying something. As I rounded the bend in the road, the docks were flush with pink.

Millions of prawns were neatly laid out on every conceivable flat surface drying in the mid-morning sun. Guarding the precious seafood were villagers with fly swatters slowly walking through the thin layer of prawns. Little kids were guarding the perimeter against the hungry street dogs and cats. As I stopped to check this out (for as long as my nose could take it), I was once again reminded of living San Miguel Tzinacapan. I immediately remembered the roofs of the village houses that were covered in the dull red color of coffee beans. And while it took no time at all to get over the obvious health concerns of drinking coffee made from beans that had been drying out on somebody's roof, it will take me longer to eat dried prawns. I'm very excited about fried prawns -- no way any bacteria will survive that heat! -- but dried, no way Jose.

Our Rajastani Ramble

Instead of a narrative for this blog entry, check out the photos with detailed captions. Please comment or ask questions! Take care, Reid and Rachel