Shiva Holiday!!!

This is the day of the annual Shiva festival, so we were awakened by Hindu chants being blasted from huge loudspeakers at a temple just down the hill. During any lull in that din, we can hear similar symphonies blaring from speakers at other temples across town.

After breakfast we boarded the bus to head to the city center and THE temple of Madurai. This is one of the holy places that every Hindu hopes to visit at least once in his or her life, and this festival day comes only once each year, so the crowds were every bit as dense as we had anticipated. Fortunately, we began the day early, so it was less crowded early in our visit than at the time we left.

As in Chennai, we encountered women cooking rice offerings on open fires just outside the temple. This is not something generally practiced here, so we got to see something special to the day.

This temple is unusually strict about its dress code. We usually have entered temples in our socks after removing shoes. This temple insists on bare feet, but fortunately, it seemed cleaner than most, with no sand or gravel under foot. Also, trousers or skirts to the ankle were required of both men and women. Usually, one only needs to cover to below the knee. And bare shoulders here are definitely not allowed.

Having already seen a good number of temples in this country, we were prepare to be unimpressed. But the size and the colors of the gates, not to mention the detail in the sculptures, made this one stand out. We got a good look at the large South Tower from outside before entering through the East Tower gate.

The bright colors on the outside were exceeded only by the paintings on the inside. Since Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, it was appropriate that cherubs flying across the ceiling greeted us just inside the gate. Archaeologists have discovered Greek and Roman coins in this area, so it is known that trade existed with parts of the Roman Empire. Artistic notions were obviously also exchanged.

Flower sellers lined the entry area, providing pilgrims with the offerings they would wish to bring into the temple. We were told that many more shops and merchant stalls were throughout the temple up until just last month. A fire in the shops caused major damage, which is why part of the temple is closed. While we thought there was plenty of commerce taking place here, apparently most of the merchants have been evicted in the interest of fire safety.

Just inside the gate we encountered the typical four-sided pool lined with steps down to the water. Also typically, the pool was fenced off to keep people out of it. Atypically, fountains spraying from fire hoses kept this pool from being quite as disgusting as most. Many were sitting on the steps looking at the water, even if they couldn’t bathe in it.

Along the side of the pool was a statue of the god Ganesh completely covered in white ash. Pilgrims were covering Ganesh with the white ash of burned cow dung. We didn’t get whether this was an ongoing thing, or just for this special day.

Farther in, we encountered lines for shrines that were open only to Hindus. I’m sure that, if we had gotten in line, we wouldn’t have been challenged — after all, Westerners could practice Hinduism, too — but we had no interest in testing the point. Nor did we relish the idea of waiting in a long, long line to lay an offering before an image.

There was plenty to see and do, however. Partly because of the size and uniqueness of this temple, and partly because of the special holiday, there were plenty of new things.

There was, for example, an image of a pregnant goddess. Expectant parents and grandparents would come to pour oil on her head. This would run down into a pan at her feet. We saw some of that taking place, as expectant grandparents prayer for a safe delivery. What we didn’t see was filled in for us by our tour leaders. That is, that pregnant women come here and their mothers dip a hand into the pan of oil underneath the goddess and rub it on the bellies of mothers to be.

Because of the day, a grand procession was taking place. Priests carrying relics of some sort on their heads paraded around the temple three times. In front them was a bull wearing an ornate blanket, as well as a cadre of musicians playing drums, valveless trumpets, and oboe-like reed instruments.

Following the musicians were boys with baskets of flower petals, tossing the petals around. Behind the priests were other boys holding up fancy umbrellas. And finally came members of the family who had paid for all of this.

Another special event was the preparation of 1008 perfectly matched right-hand conch shells. Most conch shells are left-hand — that is, if you picked it up with your left hand and wrapped your hand around it, your fingers would go into the shell opening. Right-hand shells are just the reverse, and are quite rare. These were all the same size and polished bright white.

Priests were had filled the shells with water, spices, and flowers. They were carried into the shrine on trays of about a dozen at a time, each tray carried by two priests. The contents were poured out on the Shiva linga in the holy place of the temple, then the shells would be stored away until next year.

Near the altar of the sacred cow, we met a man and his wife who were burning coconut oil to Shiva on this special day. Our tour leader chatted with them a bit about what they were doing. They were typical of the many hundreds in the temple today.

Finally, we all had opportunity to light an oil lamp of our own at the altar to the god Saturn. Yes, just like the planet. Again, this area had trade contacts with ancient Rome, and the planet deities are all represented here.

Because of the special day and the large crowds, we spent more time in the temple than had been scheduled. But it was fascinating to see all the festivities. There was ample time, however, to visit the high-end “arts and crafts” shop across the street. One couple from our group bought a 41” high bronze Shiva and had it shipped home (at great expense). Most others bought more modest prizes. We drank the tea and didn’t buy anything.

Lunch was at “Phil’s Bistro” specializing in Italian-American food. It’s fascinating that such a place exists here, but it was not one of our more interesting lunches. We did get to meet “Phil,” though. He’s an Indian native of Madurai.

Next on the itinerary was a visit to the ruins of the Thirnumalainaick Palace. Built by a sultan in the 17th century CE in the classical style, all that remains is the central audience chamber (now, with rows of seats installed, used as a performance venue) and the adjacent ballroom (now a museum).

The huge size and ornate classical style indicate that this was once quite a place, but most of it crumbled or was torn down as the city grew.

We returned to the hotel for the customary afternoon break, which we spent reading by the pool and doing some laundry.

The afternoon adventure took us to “the other side of the tracks,” or more literally, the other side of the river. This is the area where, for centuries, the lower castes of the city were forced to live. Although the caste system is officially illegal now, and by law there are no longer “untouchables,” this is still the area of the poorest of the poor.

We transferred from the bus to bicycle rickshaws — one group member per rickshaw. Bicycle rickshaws only operate in this part of town, because in most places they have been replaced the motorized tuk-tuks. A group like ours gave them more business in one afternoon than they typically get, and they were clearly happy for the opportunity.

People here were amazingly friendly. As our line of 16 rickshaws wove through the narrow streets, kids came running after us, women waved, teen boys offered “high-fives,” and men stopped work to smile and shout “hi.” Even men busy milking cows in the middle of the street looked up and grinned at us as we passed.

First stop was a non-profit workshop where women in the neighborhood can earn a little money by selling kitchen towels they make in their homes. They are not works of art, but we bought some anyway to support the cause.

Next, the bikes took us to a very out-of-the-way place where few tourists go — the city crematoria. Cremations take place here in the traditional way, with “untouchables” building and tending the fires. We saw one body that had just arrived, as priests and sons conducted final rituals. At least three other bodies were in progress. The cremation itself takes 5-10 hours, but the surrounding ceremonies span three days.

It was clear that some did not appreciate the presence of Western tourists, but the cremation attendants crowded around us and were anxious to tell us about their trade, with our tour leader interpreting. Unfortunately, we were all standing downwind from the pyres, and the smoke permeated our clothes. We returned to the hotel with more laundry that needed to be done before repacking our suitcases for tomorrow’s travel.

We had a good meal in the hotel restaurant, then returned to our room. Fortunately, the room is pretty well insulated, and the air conditioners provide some background noise, because the local temple is still belting out chants at full volume into the night