Orissa is one of India’s poorest states; the proportion of people living below the poverty line in the state is nearly double the country’s average. It is located on the eastern coast of India, just below West Bengal (Calcutta). In the far western part of the state, tribes still live as they did thousands of years ago. I spent December 16-19, 2008 in Orissa, flying into the state capital of Bhubaneswar (which I still don’t know how to pronounce correctly) and proceeding the 1.5 hours to the coastal city of Puri. The airport in Bhubaneswar is small with only a few airplanes on the ground at any one time and passengers walk the 400 meters across the runway to board their plane directly. Interestingly, this small semi-rural airport also hosted the strictest security I’ve yet seen in India.
Unfortunately, Orissa was marred in August and September by violence and vandalism against the small Christian minority after they were blamed for the murder of a Hindu leader and some of his followers (see here). The majority of Christians in the state are destitute, illiterate, powerless tribal people who make an easy target for the machinations of politicians.
In contrast to media reports from other parts in the state, the city of Puri was relaxed and welcoming. According to two different sources, Puri is one of the four most sacred cities for Hindus (although my sources were conflicting on which cities constituted the other three). The city is home to Jagannath Mandir, a temple dedicated to Jagannath, whom Hindus believe to be the Lord of the Universe and an incarnation of Vishnu (Krishna). Built in 1198, the temple attracts hundreds of thousands of pilgrims from all over India each year. Non-Hindus such as myself are not permitted to enter; however, according to my guide book, within the temple can be found statues of Jagannath, his brother Balbhadra, and sister Subhadra (see here for images). “The brothers have arms but no hands, while smaller Subhadra, sitting in between, has neither. Priests continually garland and dress the three throughout the day for different ceremonies. Incredibly, the temple employs about 6,000 men to perform the complicated rituals involved in caring for the gods. An estimated 20,000 people—divided into 36 orders and 97 classes—are dependent on Jagannath for their livelihood. The kitchen, with 400 cooks, is reportedly the largest in the world.”
Each summer, Puri is home to a huge festival, called Rath Yatra, in which the statues of the three gods are placed on huge cars and pulled through the city. Again, according to Lonely Planet, “The main car of Jagannath (origin of ‘juggernaut’) stands 14m high. It rides on 16 wheels, each over 2m in diameter—in centuries past, devotees threw themselves beneath the wheels to die gloriously within the god’s sight. Four-thousand professional temple employees haul the cars, which take enormous effort to pull and are virtually impossible to turn or stop…Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims (and tourists) swarm to witness this stupendous scene, which can take place in temperatures over 40 degrees C [104 degrees Fahrenheit].”
Puri is also home to a beautiful beach (much cleaner than the beaches in Chennai). Also unlike Chennai, hundreds of Indians frequent the beach for swimming and relaxing and a carnivalesque atmosphere prevails. As the city’s main attraction doesn’t permit the entry of non-Hindus, the city and the beach are surprisingly free of foreign tourists. I was content to be the only white person wandering down the warm beach Wednesday evening, although the lack of foreign tourists means that the local hotels and restaurants aren’t so great at catering to Westerners and few people speak English proficiently (the hotel where I stayed doesn't stock toilet paper, for instance, but was nice enough to buy some for me when I asked).
On Thursday, I took a three-hour round trip ride on the back of a motorcycle (don’t tell my mom) from Puri to the small village of Danda-Mukundpur. I’m now convinced that the best way to see rural India is from the back of a motorcycle. We stopped along the way to buy a fresh coconut (costing about 13 cents) on the side of the road; the vendor sliced open the green fruit with a machete and placed a straw inside so that we could drink the refreshing juice. Afterward, he cut the hull in half so we could eat the white, slimy coconut flesh inside. This was my first trip into rural India and I found it beautiful and the people very friendly.
An enormous temple which is a place of spiritual power for thousands of devotees, beautiful beaches, and welcoming people make Puri a great place to visit—definitely worth a return trip. Next time I’ll be sure to bring my swimming suit. However, as the only white person on the beach, I’ll have to be careful that my iridescent glow doesn’t attract too much attention.
A beautiful, warm beach in December!
A Krishna Temple down the street from Jagannath Mandir.
Jagannath Mandir.
As non-Hindus are not permitted inside, this is as close as I could come to seeing the interior.
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