Mammalapuram Temple

Heading south from Chennai along the coastal road we caught our first glimpses of the Bay of Bengal. We had been met by a professor from Annamalai University's ag department, who had been drafted as our tour guide, along with a driver. A professional driver seems essential after what I've seen of traffic in India. DO NOT try this at home!

We took the coastal road rather than the main highway because it took us to the site of the ancient temple of Mammalapuram. It was built mainly during the 7th to 9th centuries, under the Pallavi dynasty - think of what Europeans were doing around 600 AD . . . and carved mainly out of huge granite outcroppings "in situ," right where they found them.

This is what we first saw as we approached an outlying site called "The Tiger Cave."

 
Walking around these big boulders to the left, this is what we came upon.

Here we are, me, one of the IRRI team who traveled with us, and Crissan.

This one is another whole section, a short walk away from the Tiger Cave.

In the place of honor inside this cave is a black obsidian sculpture of a "lingam," revered as one of the avatars taken by Shiva, one of the Hindu deities, a symbol of "male creative energy." The "yoni,"visible here as the ring through which the lingam rises, is the symbol of "female creative energy" associated with the goddess Shakti. Seen together as here they can symbolize the duality of nature or infinity. (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lingam, briefly quoted here, for more detail.) This symbolic form crops up again and again in India. Note the fresh flowers adorning the top, indicating a recent offering of reverence or respect for the spirit of the Lingam.

Here's another stone suggesting the same linga form, but naturally occurring, with some small marks from a granite carver at some time in the past.

A little further on, nearing the sea shore, we came upon this huge piece of granite. It was uncovered only recently, as a result of the terrible tsunami of December 2004. You can see the faint line showing where the ground surface used to be, about midway up the rock.

Below that line, you may be able to make out some faintly carved parallel lines in the rock, most easily seen in the shadowy side to the lower left. A knowledgeable observer realized that this suggested the possibility that this too was a part of the temple system, and an archaeological dig is now under way.

 And here is that same rock seen from the other side, with temple walls and other structures revealed around it.

 Since we were now just a few steps from the shore, we walked out to the Bay. A fishing boat was pulled up on shore, and if you look closely you may see some others with the similar high-prowed shape out on the water.

Next we drove into the town of Mammalapuram, where we saw several more granite structures carved in amazing form and detail, all telling stories of the deities and the land.

The vertical division to the left of the elephant is said to represent the Ganges River.

There seems to be some disco dancing going on here.

And as always, cows are in fashion. Milking time here.

Note the free-standing leg on this otherwise bas relief work.

One of many guides our host hired to tell us about what we

're seeing.

In this carving at the base of a pillar, we see an antelope with a calf, but now cover the calf and the head of the mother. Do you see an elephant? NOTHING in India is what it seems . . .

This huge boulder is said to be immovable even by mechanical means.

Here we see a group of lions with a range of influences, a sphinx-like creature on the left and a Roman influence in the one to the right.

This is known as the Sea Shore Temple, as it built on high ground overlooking the Bay of Bengal. It is a structure built of assembled pieces of stone, and was apparently at one time washed into the sea and reconstructed!

And finally, one last lingering look at yet another lingam . . .

Heading South

We landed in Chennai (formerly called Madras) in the state of Tamil Nadu in southern India on Monday, Feb. 14, and spent a day resting up before meeting up with the first of our hosts for the second phase of our India travels. We planned to meet up with Crissan's husband, Bob, who was scheduled to give a talk and to meet with several project leaders, scientists, extension workers and farmers involved in research and trials concerning the world’s major staple food crop, rice. There is an extensive array of academic institutions, research institutes, NGO’s and governmental departments and agencies working to introduce more efficient and effective methods for growing rice in an increasingly challenging environment.  Bob is the Director General of IRRI, the International Rice Research Institute, which recently celebrated its 50^th anniversary. Its mission is “to reduce poverty and hunger, improve the health of rice farmers and consumers, and ensure environmental sustainability through collaborative research, partnerships, and the strengthening of national agricultural research and extension systems.” <http://irri.org>

The next few days would prove to be an intensive education in the culture of rice, and in the culture of southern India, a very different place than what we had encountered in Delhi, Lucknow and Agra. I was extremely privileged to be allowed a close-up view of life in small, rural Indian villages, and to meet many very dedicated people who have devoted their entire working lives to the development of sustainable food crops for some of the poorest people in the world. I was also very honored and humbled to meet many farmers themselves, people who must struggle every day to produce the food that their families need to eat, and who wish to provide their children with a chance for a better life, the same for people the world over.

In the course of our travels, we visited several Hindu temples, one a very ancient site carved out of huge granite boulders and slabs where they rose up out of the ground, others built as much as a thousand years ago but still very much in use as spiritual centers of the community today. We visited research sites, farms, university agricultural and medical programs, witnessed farmers using bullocks to level their paddies in much the way that their ancestors did, the barefoot driver standing on a narrow plank being dragged through the slurry of mud. We saw combines and machine planters in use across a simple dirt road from a flooded paddy where the women were transplanting seedlings into the field, easing their back-breaking toil by singing out in rhythmical call-and-response melodies.

We met with academic officials and ordinary workers, most notably some who had hoped to become medical doctors but in India’s higher education system were diverted into a choice of agriculture or engineering instead. These young people, men and women alike, were devoted to their work in helping the farmers to grow higher yields and to learn sustainable approaches to farming, and seemed to give no further thought to the fact that this path was not their first choice.

We were ceremonially greeted at every new stop with customary rituals and offerings of food and the fresh milk of a coconut. A small group of wizened old farmers met us at one site with a chorus of drumming on ceremonial skin drums. A women’s collective met with us to show their learning about putting moneys from crops aside and voiced their hopes to be able to fund their children’s education.  We were invited to attend temple and experience puja, a ritual cleansing, by one of our generous hosts, a gentleman who wished for us to experience a part of life he finds personally meaningful.

We traveled with a group of professionals who lead projects relating to rice production or are involved in reaching out to farmers to introduce new stress-tolerant seed varieties with the hope that they will prove themselves as hardy in the field as they have in the lab. Stresses such as drought and full submergence for a period of only a few days can wipe out a farmer’s entire crop and leave entire communities destitute, but there must be a delicate dance of trust to enlist farmers willing to take on a trial of something that is not certain to yield the desired results.                                                               

We heard evidence that some of these varieties are showing early encouraging results in the field. At the same time, we witnessed a community gathered around their rice harvest, piled in mounds at a central location in a village, in the process of being sold and sent to the mill, yet the farmers had sad and anxious faces because their whole crop was infected with a fungal blight which would make the rice inedible. What then? Sale at a much lower price for use as rice byproducts, and loss of what might have been. And dwindling hope for their future.

I have many pictures to share with you from this time. I will add them as I am able, and hopefully you can gain some sense of what life is like in this far corner of the earth. 

Sari Shopping

Fruits and vegs

On our last day in Delhi after returning from Agra, we spent the day at a busy, crowded market which contained both storefronts and outdoor kiosks with vendors selling everything imaginable, from shoes and clothing to hardware and appliances, jewelry, both gemstone quality and fake, foodstuffs including corn on the cob, mung bean salad, cotton candy, and unidentifiable meats and soups; knick-knacks, sandalwood carvings, sculptures of every imaginable form on Hindu deities, carpets and textiles, plastic and stainless steel water jars for carrying on top of your head; leather coats and bags, and on and on and on.

There was one section of artists whose specialty is painting henna designs on the hands of women, a most beautiful form of personal adornment that will last for a month or so before it washes away.

Thankfully we started early in the day so it was not too overwhelming. The final stop of the day turned out to be a special treat, however. My friend Crissan has a very good friend, Usha, who used to live close to Crissan for many years, but now lives in Delhi. She agreed to meet us and take us to shop for saris, which in most such shops involves sitting on a bench before a raised platform on which the vendor sits lotus-style, with helpers pulling saris and pashminas off the very well-stocked shelves completely filling the wall behind him. Of course, I was just planning to sit and observe – where would I ever be able to wear a sari in my real life? Crissan at least has many trips to India and several more-or-less formal functions to attend in the course of a normal year.

Well, India is known for its culture of magical realism. To illustrate, it’s my understanding that, for example, any statue of Ganesha, the elephant-form deity of good fortune, is treated with honor when present in a home or office of a Hindu. It will be routinely dressed in flower garlands on a daily basis, and perfumed with the scent of ghee burning in an oil lamp set before it, because the statue is felt to be the real embodiment of the deity it represents. 

Ganesh

In no way does this contradict or impinge on the ability of this person to think and act in a sound and rational manner, as a research scientist, say, who must examine evidence in order to develop hypotheses and conclusions based on empirical reality. These attitudes exist in complete harmony and without sense of contradiction, as it has been described to me.  Perhaps this is a gross generalization, forgive me if you know better, and tell me if I’m wrong. But everywhere one looks, there are such enchanting scenes of devotion to a whole array of ideals, displayed with physical and spiritual beauty, and I found myself falling under the spell.

As luck would have it, then, I saw the most beautiful, enticing silk sari atop the growing mound of vivid silks, with a color and sheen of the most delicate shade of pale pinkish orange, with silvery threads woven in a pattern throughout that made the surface shimmer with the slightest movement or change of light. I was enchanted. I found myself suddenly subscribing to the magical-reality-based belief that I, in fact, NEEDED to possess this sari; would absolutely, without a doubt, have an event for which I could wear no other thing on earth; and simply was not yet informed of what that event might be. In all certainty, there would be one. By and by I would find a need to wear it. So, I did what any normal woman out shopping would do – I tried it on. And with that, it was done. Usha snapped photos of me as the seller draped the sari as it should be worn, and sealed the deal with her finely honed bargaining skills. And even if I never wear it anywhere I know I will always treasure this work of beauty from this most mysterious and fascinating part of the world. See for yourself!

Ta da!