September 13: Blessings

Yesterday morning I walked to a nearby rooftop restaurant to have breakfast. I was almost finished eating when a lively German man named Martin sat down with me. Martin visits India regularly, both because he loves the country and because he needs to buy motorcycle parts in Goa. He is a wealth of information about Indian and European motorcycles and I learned all sorts of things about Enfield and BSA (who knew that most motorcycle companies were arms manufacturers first??) But more importantly Martin introduced me to two other travelers he had met a week or so earlier as well as the owners of the restaurant.

The owners, it turned out were getting ready that night for their annual blessing at the temple. Archaeological wonder to the tourist; neighborhood church to them. Their extended family was in town for the event and we were all invited as well.

It started with lunch-- a fairly wonderful affair that involved eating on banana leaves. It was particularly nice since so many restaurants in Southern India cater to North Indian tourists tastes and don't serve local food.

But the main event was that night. The best part about it was that it was just like the mele we had at the symposium, except with real villagers. It started off with a band outside the restaurant which led the parade through the town streets to the temple. I didn't catch most of what went on during the actual ceremony other than that we were regularly handed rice to throw for good luck, and that apparently the restaurant proprieter -- only semi-clad in a short, white wrap-around -- was feeding various fruits and flowers to the god Shiva whose image sat in front of us.

Once the ceremony was over, the band started up again -- and we all danced along after it. Behind us, carried on a palanquin was fruit- and flower-covered Shiva. To ensure that we could see the god in the dark, there buzzed away on the palanquin a large generator powering four intensely bright lights. Leading the whole caravan was an honest-to-god elephant, covered in a bright pink cloth, and covered in white mandalas.

A VERY good elephant.

He was a very, very good elephant: first, if you put a rupee in his trunk, he would bless you (I don't quite know how I feel about having touched the inside of an elephant's trunk -- it's sort of pink and squishy); second, flocks of children regularly halted the procession in order to light fireworks directly in front of the elephant, and he didn't even flinch.

Such things must be common place to the band members. A Western chick, on the other hand, who borrowed a set of small brass cymbals from around one of their necks and played percussion as she followed along -- that was clearly novel. They all watched me instead of the elephant.

Posted by karenceliafox at September 13, 2004 10:57 PM