Field work with WolfDad

WM: So the Wolfgang has been on tour around Southern Tamil Nadu, failing in our role as WD’s field assistants and whinging quite a bit over the last 3 days.  We have though, I hope, gained an increased understanding and respect for how tough it can be for him - and all those years I spent imagining him idly drinking chai and chatting to temple priests! It’s a non-stop exhausting whiz round dusty temples in forsaken, stinking, noisy towns, working around temple closure times (10-4 daily) and limited eating options (all on banana leaves) whilst trying to make cogent analyses of these places.  Yesterday I had definitely hit that jaded, disgusted phase of being in a different country – it probably shows…

A false start

WM: We decided to spend an extra day in Madurai after a false start (booked driver was poorly, replacement driver spoke no English, turned up very late and his car did not fill us with confidence – missing wing mirror, leaking oil in the back seat – and WD had already missed his morning temple slots). 

Actually this was a blessing in disguise as we had a chance to appreciate Madurai further and for my guts to stop their acrobatics.  So we went to the Gandhi museum to take in a holy relic (the loin cloth he was wearing when assassinated) and to enjoy the uncritical curation.  We have tried to explain Gandhian non-violence to the children – ‘an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind’ – but it has had little impact on L&W’s fighting.

Next door was a children’s play park. The kids are now getting quite good at assessing  risk (missing rungs, fatigued metal, unsound hinges on swings, raw metal edges on slides…), whilst enjoying some off-the-leash time.

Tea with Rasiya

In the afternoon, we went back to the temple and drank tea with WD’s lovely friend,Rasiya, in her shop in the temple arcade. She showered the children with gifts that were impossible to refuse or to turn into purchases (the girls are genuinely thrilled with their ankle bracelets and you hear them jangling gently as they turn over in bed).  We looked at photos of her grandchildren and heard of her family’s shifting fortunes since WD was last in Madurai. 

A Bad Day….

WM: So we finally set off yesterday (Tuesday). Nice driver (Ati) turned up at 6.30 am with a very smart red Indica (equivalent in size to a Golf Polo), turbo-charged and with tinted windows! WD and Ati communicate in a pigeon English and Tamil hybrid. It’s a squeeze in the back seat with L and W seat-belted together and maximum opportunity for sibling fighting to relieve the boredom.  This may have contributed to why yesterday was not such a great day….plus the grey overcast heat, unrelenting especially sitting outside temples waiting for WD to finish. Everything was especially filthy and the rubbish and environmental degradation just consumed me….

We travelled country roads where peasant farmers were threshing their lentils on the road, infuriating our driver as the vines wrapped round the car’s undercarriage, and main roads through industrial towns and hinterlands.  We visited Sivakasi, Cracker City, famous for producing most of India’s fireworks, explosive industrial accidents and its (in the past?) child labour force. I watched woman after woman carry off a brand new boxed TV on their heads from one electrical store and another queue fighting to reach subsidised food.

Even when we tried to salvage things – a picnic at a beautiful archaeological site next to a lake! (Kalugumalai) – actually what happened was we were savaged by monster mosquitoes (I bled profusely for about 20 minutes from one bite), L got heat stroke (and was rendered speechless until she’d cooled off) and M got scared by local boys showing off and throwing gravel… A shame since there was a rather wonderful rock cut temple and Jain sculpture in amongst trees growing up a hill with views down over the Tamil plains.

When we reached Couttralam, a Tamil ‘holiday’ resort with waterfalls and more temples, things didn’t really improve.  We schlepped around looking for somewhere to stay.  We have definitely fallen off the Lonely Planet or Rough Guide map and are now officially the only foreigners in town. Many of these places may have seen the odd foreigner (WD knows of one who’s passed this way recently) but essentially this is unadulterated Tamilnadu.

The state run hotel was empty except for staff – the main building looked as though it was about to collapse and the ‘annexe’ was dismal and in a more desolate location than can be described.  So we opted in the end for the newest place in town which was also empty – not without its problems as M will describe:

M: Today we moved out of a really smelly hotel.  I’m terribly sorry to say so but I am most certain that I will not miss that horrid place.  The Resort hotel may have been the poshest place in town but it still was a failure – it was dirty, nobody was very friendly and there was a major monkey problem.  (We wonder if there is a monkey rating on Trip Advisor?) The macaques pooed and weeed wherever they fancied, all over corridors and stairs; they tipped over all the bins and tried to come into the rooms.  They looked quite vicious as they tore up the pot plants with their sharp canines.  I was more than happy when Dad said we would be staying just one night and would go back to Madurai a day early instead.  [WD: I’ve stayed in much worse – I thought it was quite nice! The sheets were white and water came out of the tap.]

To top it all, L has also begun turning into an officious nightmare every evening at about 9pm. “Mum and Dad, you are not allowed to watch television, read your books, use the computer, kiss, ….If I’m not allowed, then you’re not allowed.  If you want to be tired in the morning then it’s your own silly fault!”  She huffs and puffs in her authoritarian, pleasure-killing way, most reminding us of the Khmer Rouge children who would denounce their own parents for some minor infringement.  It’s a bit disconcerting but is strictly time-limited as she usually falls asleep within about 10 minutes of the tirade.

L: It’s so unfair when they stay up waching star trek. I just need to ask you is star trek good? They stay up to 12 oclock reading waching films, writeing blog, drinking beer, eating oranges, having showers, winding torchs and KISSING! That’s toxic isn’t it? [by the way snoging is a leagle. well I think so]

[WM&D: It’s lies, all lies!  Don’t believe her!]

A Better Day

WM: The clouds had gone, there was blue sky and the landscape was lush along the river we were following.  WD was nostalgically remembering Enfield mishaps along the same road.  The children had eaten Special K (brought from Madurai) with hot sweet milk for breakfast, we’d managed some school time whilst WD went out templing this morning and things were looking better.  I also am not beyond bribing the younger two to have an afternoon nap with cash inducements (‘I bet you 10 rupees you can’t go to sleep’) when this seems the best solution to back seat politics.

We have reached Tiruchendur at peak pilgrim time and it’s a mad but fabulous place.  Huge excitement going down to the beach (the temple is right on the beach) and the children’s first sight of the Bay of Bengal.  The sea was awash with happy pilgrims – mostly men but some girls and even the odd wife risking it in her sari.  Hawkers selling plastic bird hooters, bamboo recorders and candy floss and fortune tellers added to the carnival atmosphere.  We met a large group of Tamils from Sri Lanka doing pilgrimage – amazing to see them so far from home and with visas…

The very talented hamster

 L: BEACH! WEHAY YAY!  We went to the beach. Lots of people were having fun jumping in the waves. There was a group of pilgrams. There were 30 of them. We had a paddle in the waves too.  We saw a fortune teller hamster* and parrot. The parrot picked up cards.

We have collected beauty things from hotels to put in cases. Here they are: tooth brush, five packs of soap, moisteriser and shampoo. BYE BYE.

*Unbelievably, a real live hamster in a cage (not W’s green battle-attack hamster toy that says, “Here we goooo! Rrr,bang crash!”), used to do horoscopes….India is just plain strange sometimes.

M: We arrived at the new place (Tiruchendur) we are staying in time to wander around and to have a look at the temple so that dad could come back tomorrow and see what he would like to concentrate on tomorrow when he goes without us.  The temple smelt of dust and bat poo so L found it hard to not cover her nose in disgust.  

Happy Murugan pilgrims

WD: I’ve travelled these roads in the far south of Tamilnadu many times. To the west are the high hills that separate Kerala from Tamilnadu with a few rivers flowing down to the east coast, bringing some precious water to this parched landscape. The fields of rice along the river Tamraparni are bright green with coconut and areca palms between.

Right on the seashore is one of the great pilgrimage temples to Murugan, the Tamil name for Shiva’s six-headed son Skanda. He’s a child god, who carries a spear and rides a peacock – so not dissimilar to W? – and appropriately enough there are lots of peacocks sitting on walls and adding to the volume of the place. Murugan’s hugely popular among Tamils and, this being pilgrimage season, the roads are lined for miles with people walking barefoot in green lungis with a small bag of belongings on their head on their way to Tiruchendur or other Murugan sites, especially the hill temple at Palani. Some of them are carrying a kavadi, a wooden arch decorated with flowers and peacock feathers. Others have thin metal spears up to three feet long piercing both cheeks in devotion to their beloved God. The children were appalled but fascinated.

The temple and the beach alongside were very busy. We opted for the Rs.20 ‘special darshan’ which allows you to queue-jump the very long, winding free line and walked along fenced passages and bridges to get rapid access and a precious sight of Murugan, deep in the heart of the temple. It’s frenzied inside as people clamour to see God, and the air is hot and thick with sweat, burning camphor and smoke. I was quite pleased that the temple requires men to take their shirt off (L rather likes this bit too). The priests were so pleased to see us and, as a special treat, we were shoved through a tiny door and followed a very low and narrow stone passage to see five small lingas, the small stone marks of Shiva, covered in sacred ash with the dusty handprints of earlier devotees all over the walls. The heat was intense and with little air we beat a hasty retreat.

Outside the atmosphere was similarly intense. Ash-smeared devotees were rolling sideways around the temple. A decorated elephant led a procession by a gold palanquin with images of Murugan and his two consorts, with over-excited people clamouring for a sight. Men danced wildly to very loud drumming, and others supported their friends with spears piercing their cheeks around the temple. ‘Ecstatic religion’ (as at least two of you know is the title of a book). It’s great! The children took it all in their stride and got the buzz. A fortune-telling hamster was the oversweet icing on the cake.

W is now building a festival chariot with pillows.  

Hmm, I’m not sure taking everyone on my fieldwork was such a good idea. I do move around fast and then stay too long for others’ needs in some ropey places. But Tiruchendur was well worth a visit, even if it meant a lot of tedious driving. So, let’s all go to another dusty, remote pilgrimage site by the sea, shall we? Off to Rameshvaram tomorrow, on the island facing Sri Lanka, where Rama paused to worship Shiva before crossing the sea to defeat Ravana and rescue his wife Sita.

WM: Apologies this is such a long blog but we've been away for what seems like ages and everybody needed to write their bit.  Please do leave us comments or send us emails because we love hearing from you.