We checked out of the hotel and took the bus to Chennai’s “Beach Rail Station” to board a commuter train across the city. The station had no information boards concerning times or platforms of arriving or departing trains, and there was no such information on the ticket. Our tour leader had to walk up to the engine of one of the waiting trains and ask. There were no other rail personnel to be seen anywhere. Announcements over the loudspeakers were completely unintelligible, even those in English. Even after asking the engineer, we nearly got on the wrong train.
We were fortunate to get on several minutes before departure time, so all of us could find seats. By the time we left the station, every seat was full, and what we would consider to be every possible standing location in the car was occupied.
But at the next stop, at least a dozen more crowded on, and at least a dozen more at the station after that. It was quite unbelievable how many were smashed together in the aisle, and even hanging out the doors. As our tour leader said, “The doors are completely automatic: They never close.”
To make the ride more entertaining, a young man, probably early 20s, made a place for himself to sit across from me, and next to another guy from our group, just after the last seats were taken. This fellow’s English was very broken and hard to understand, but he introduced himself all around and insisted on knowing where we were from. Then, as the fellow next to me and I engaged in conversation of our own, he focused on the poor guy next to him, chattering away and asking all sorts of questions. Even other Indians on the train were watching, exchanging glances and smiles, and rolling their eyes. When we finally got off the train, we told our group member that he had a new best friend!
From the station we walked a short distance to a very large temple complex, the Kapaleeshwarar Temple. Hindu temples generally have a least two prominent features. The first is a large, square pool with steps leading down to in around all four sides. Usually there is some sort of shrine in the pool center. In former days, these were places where people would go down to the water to bathe, or at least to wash their feet, before entering the temple. We were told that people are so clean now, with showers available everywhere, that bathing is no longer necessary (the smell of the packed train car would argue against this premise). In fact, these pools are so full of bacteria that allowing people to bathe in them would be a public health hazard. This one, like most others, had been fenced off.
On the portico surrounding the pool were priests, dressed in white sarongs and bearing painted stripes on their foreheads, chests, and arms. They are looking to be hired to conduct ceremonies for clients who approach them. At this location, the primary business in ceremonies for the dead — both the ceremony that marks the end of the grieving period 16 days following the death, and the ceremony that marks the first anniversary of the death.
Our tour leader hired a priest for an abbreviated ceremony (they generally go on 45 minutes to an hour), and a woman in our group volunteered to have the ceremony for her recently deceased mother. The priest quickly sat down and began pulling various metal plates and vessels out of a rice bag he carried, along with incense, flowers, spices, and other necessary supplies. Then the chanting began.
The second prominent feature is the “cow gate.” This is a multi-level, four-sided structure, tapered from bottom to top, covered with dozens (for smaller temples) or hundreds (for larger temples) of intricate figures of the various gods and heavenly creatures, all looking down from on high on those entering the temple. European cathedrals have stained glass windows to tell Bible stories without words. These carved figures are the Hindu equivalent. The cow gate is the main entrance for sacred cows, as well as for people. Here, people must leave their shoes before going farther inside.
After touring the temple, our tour leader took us down a narrow street just outside the temple wall where fortune tellers — both men and women — were sitting on blankets spread on the pavement. The fortune teller our group engaged was a congenial, middle-aged man who spoke English fairly well.
Another women in the group volunteered to pay 100 Rupees (about $1.50 US) to have her fortune told. A stack of “cards” (actually small envelopes containing cards) was set on the blanket and a bird was released from a small cage. The bird marched over to the cards and pulled one out of the stack with its beak. The man engaged in dialog with the bird, asking it if this was truly the right card for this person, and the bird squawked, apparently in affirmation, for each question (amazingly, the bird appeared to understand English as well). After the bird got its treat and went back to its cage, the man pulled the card out of the envelope and unfolded it. It was one of the millions of Hindu gods. The rest was a bit more subjective. The fortune teller began to tell the woman about all of her positive traits. The card told him that she was kind, generous, patient, decisive, etc. He never actually told her anything about her future, however.
We walked on to a coffee shop for a morning break. Along the way we noticed chalk figures on the sidewalk in front of each shop. Shopkeepers say their morning prayers when they open for business in the morning, and draw these as blessings upon the customers who will enter the shop that day. They are everywhere in the morning, but tend to wear off as the day goes on.
We then boarded the bus for a longer drive south along the sea to the “village” of Mahabalipuram. Our hotel here is a beautiful sea-side resort with both an “infinity pool” overlooking the ocean, and a “meandering pool” that extends past most of the guest cottages. We have a room with a balcony on “the first floor” (which we would call the second floor in the U.S.) overlooking the meandering pool and many palm trees. The first order of business after getting settled into our rooms was to spend some time in the pool. The water was perfect, and very refreshing.
Later in the afternoon we drove through the town, which is known for large granite outcroppings that have been carved, more than a thousand years ago, with endless figures of Hindu deities. At a place called “The Five Rathas” we viewed several whole temples that had been carved, from the top down, from single blocks of granite. Unfortunately, all were unfinished at the bottom, because the dynasty that commissioned them fell to a rival kingdom prior to completion.
Finally, we drove to the site of another temple that had been built right on the seashore. Originally there had been a series of these temples, but the sea has taken all but this one. It even survived the tsunami of 2004.
We returned to the hotel, and had the option of going back into town for dinner on our own. But feeling overfed, we opted for some snacks and an early bedtime
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| "New Best Friend" lower right |
On the portico surrounding the pool were priests, dressed in white sarongs and bearing painted stripes on their foreheads, chests, and arms. They are looking to be hired to conduct ceremonies for clients who approach them. At this location, the primary business in ceremonies for the dead — both the ceremony that marks the end of the grieving period 16 days following the death, and the ceremony that marks the first anniversary of the death.
The second prominent feature is the “cow gate.” This is a multi-level, four-sided structure, tapered from bottom to top, covered with dozens (for smaller temples) or hundreds (for larger temples) of intricate figures of the various gods and heavenly creatures, all looking down from on high on those entering the temple. European cathedrals have stained glass windows to tell Bible stories without words. These carved figures are the Hindu equivalent. The cow gate is the main entrance for sacred cows, as well as for people. Here, people must leave their shoes before going farther inside.
After touring the temple, our tour leader took us down a narrow street just outside the temple wall where fortune tellers — both men and women — were sitting on blankets spread on the pavement. The fortune teller our group engaged was a congenial, middle-aged man who spoke English fairly well.
We then boarded the bus for a longer drive south along the sea to the “village” of Mahabalipuram. Our hotel here is a beautiful sea-side resort with both an “infinity pool” overlooking the ocean, and a “meandering pool” that extends past most of the guest cottages. We have a room with a balcony on “the first floor” (which we would call the second floor in the U.S.) overlooking the meandering pool and many palm trees. The first order of business after getting settled into our rooms was to spend some time in the pool. The water was perfect, and very refreshing.
Later in the afternoon we drove through the town, which is known for large granite outcroppings that have been carved, more than a thousand years ago, with endless figures of Hindu deities. At a place called “The Five Rathas” we viewed several whole temples that had been carved, from the top down, from single blocks of granite. Unfortunately, all were unfinished at the bottom, because the dynasty that commissioned them fell to a rival kingdom prior to completion.
Finally, we drove to the site of another temple that had been built right on the seashore. Originally there had been a series of these temples, but the sea has taken all but this one. It even survived the tsunami of 2004.
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