This morning we took a short bus ride to
Thanjavur’s Brihadisvara Temple. Brihadisvara is a Hindi word meaning, “big
shrine.” Indeed it is! You even get to it on a street called, Big Temple Road.
The temple differs from others we’ve seen in
that the “cow gate” is low, and the main shrine — the “holy of holies,” as it
were — is the tallest tower. The central shrine and surrounding “cloister” date
from the 11th century CE.
Additional shrines within the complex were added
later, while the outermost fortress wall and mote were erected in the 16th
century CE to protect the temple from possible Muslim invaders from the north.
Because this is a Shiva temple, the cloister
is lined with dozens and dozens of linga, and brightly colored frescoes adorn
the walls. In the inner sanctum sits a yoni/linga several meters tall, and in
return for standing in line for 20 minutes to get there, a priest would adorn
the forehead with a bright red bhindi. We passed on receiving that blessing.
On the temple grounds we met a family — mom
& dad, grandpa & grandma — carrying a little boy whose head was covered
with bright yellow sandalwood paste. Our tour leader struck up a conversation
with them. They had just completed a hair sacrifice ceremony in which the
little boy, age 10 months, had had his head shaved. This was to mark the fact
that the little guy now walks.
The mom and dad spoke English quite well, and
explained that the bracelets on the boy’s wrists and ankles were put on at his
naming ceremony, 28 days after his birth. Those will be removed on his first
birthday and replaced with bells around the ankles — a very practical step, to
make it easier to keep track of him around the house.
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| A dance group was having a photo shoot at the temple |
The family insisted on a group photo with all
of us, which seemed to make us celebrities. A young woman came over for a
selfie, then others started asking to have photos with the Americans. Our
celebrity was short-lived, however, and we continued our tour.
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| Don't let your shoes go roaming! |
The bus took us back to the hotel for a brief
bathroom break, and then we were back on board for a trip to visit a foundry
where solid bronze figures are cast using a “lost wax” process. We got to see
the artisan making the wax figures, in great detail. Then we saw a figure
packed in mud and sand.
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| Note the safety equipment when pouring molten bronze! |
We had lunch at a biryani restaurant. These
are very popular as Indian “fast food.” The biryani is a meat — usually chicken
or goat — cooked in rice. Large pots of it are cooked in advance, so when
ordering the bowl is quickly filled. A hard-boiled egg is added to each bowl,
and various curries are available so that one may season to taste. It was quite
good, but the meat comes bones in so take care in chewing.
On the way back to the hotel we walked by a
supermarket, where our tour leader allowed us to try ice cream treats. We
stayed behind to look around, because supermarkets in various countries are fun
to browse.
An afternoon break turned into a nap for me.
Some in the group tried the hotel pool, which is much smaller than the one at
the resort, days earlier. But reports were that it was quite nice,
nevertheless. A group of Indian boys was playing some sort of game very loudly
on the lawn near the pool. They were early teens, but no indication why they
were at the hotel.
After our break the bus took us to another
house-factory. This time it wasn’t bronze, but musical instruments. These
craftsmen were making an instrument similar to a rudra veena. The best ones, we
were told, are made from a single piece of jack wood. However, appropriate jack
wood is increasingly difficult to find, so most of these are pieced together.
Clearly, the craftsmen who make the instrument
are not skilled in actually playing it. But they gave Mary a 2-minute lesson,
and she quickly did almost as well as her guru. We learned that there are
several veena shops in the area, and collectively they supply most of the
instruments that exist in India and around the world.
We stopped briefly in a market area on the way
back to the hotel. Of all the markets we’ve seen in developing countries, this
was one of them. Nothing distinct, other than the fabric shop specializing in
sarongs for men. No, I’m not bringing one home.
In the evening we boarded tri-shaws (or motor
rickshaws, or tuk-tuks — they go by various names) for a ride to our
home-hosted meal. These meals are a feature of every OAT trip, and our group of
15 was divided among three homes, five each.
The home we went to was a nice, upper-middle
class family. The head of the household is an electrical engineer. His wife
teaches electrical engineering at one of the for-profit technical colleges. His
mother did most of the cooking. His daughter, age 15, was the primary hostess
(and she was delightful — very mature for her age and very easy to converse
with). And the son, about age 11, was also excited about having guests. They
all spoke English to a greater or lesser degree. The daughter’s English was
excellent.
They first took us to meet their neighbors
down the street who wanted to meet us and give us a tour of their home. Then
they brought us back to their own home and we got another grand tour there. Our
hosts had three bedrooms, an office, a living room and dining room combination
(where the family shrine is also located), and a fairly large kitchen. There
was also a laundry room on sort of a back porch off the kitchen.
The food was fantastic, and it kept coming.
There were six courses plus a dessert. All but the dessert was served on a
traditional banana leaf, but they gave us forks and spoons out of pity. The
head of the household ate with us, as the women and children served. They said
they would eat later.
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| At the Big Temple |
Time flew by quickly and it was time for us to
leave almost as soon as the meal was over. Returning to the hotel, we learned
there was a veena player performing in the hotel restaurant, so we snuck in to
listen for just a bit before heading to bed.
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