Happy Diwali

I’ve never lived in a war zone, but I think I have at least an idea of what it would sound like if I did. Monday, October 27 (or Tuesday, October 28 for those in the north) was Diwali (or Deepavali), the biggest Hindu holiday of the year (observed also by Jains, Sikhs, and Buddhists). It is celebrated for different lengths of time in different parts of the country (up to a week or two) and as near as I can hear, it is pronounced Deevallee in Chennai. For Hindus, it celebrates the homecoming of Lord Ram after a 14-year exile and his victory over an evil demon-king, Ravan. The people of the city welcomed Ram home by lighting rows (avail) of lamps (deepa). Thus, Diwali has beautiful significance as the “Festival of Lights, where the lights or lamps signify victory of good over the evil within an individual.” It is also the celebration of the “new year of luck and wealth.” To commemorate the occasion, new clothes are purchased, gifts are given, and sweets are eaten throughout the day.

In importance it is comparable to Christmas, Eid ul-Fitr, or Yom Kippur, but the observance is closer to the Fourth of July, with the main activity consisting of exploding fireworks; the bigger and louder the better (Festival of Firecrackers may be more appropriate than Festival of Lights). Apparently, private individuals here can get fireworks normally reserved for city fire departments in the U.S. For several days the blasting lasted from dawn (or before dawn on Monday) to dusk. Several people got up early on Monday (well, actually, everybody got up early because of the noise, but some people actually chose to get up early) to perform a ritual bath and cover themselves with oil in a special puja (prayer) ceremony.

The holiday is especially fun for children. According to one source, your social standing at school is directly influenced by the amount that your parents are willing to spend to buy fireworks for you. Kids of all ages explode long strings of firecrackers and light various fireworks, generally in the middle of the street. This presented an entirely new reason for vigilance on the part of pedestrians and vehicles; the menacing streets were now also interspersed with various lit fireworks.

Although I didn’t love the constant noise, I do love the significance and imagery of light associated with Diwali. Light as a symbol of goodness/intelligence/truth with the power to overcome darkness/ignorance/evil seems to be a common theme across all cultures and religions. Interestingly, it is generally this time of year, as the days grow shorter across much of the northern hemisphere, that the lack of light feels most oppressive to me. Perhaps it is a good time for a festival celebrating light. Despite the dwindling daylight, may we all have a little more sunshine in our lives. Happy Diwali!!

Privately launched fireworks filled the night sky.


Later in the day, I saw a chain about 3 or 4 times as long as this one. Unfortunately, I didn't get a picture.


Fun with fireworks.


"Look at how many fireworks I have."


Remains of the day.

More pictures.

Monsoons

The monsoon (or rainy) season has started in Chennai. It hits different parts of the country at different times and, apparently, for the next three or four months it will grace us with its presence. It is characterized by torrential downpours at least once and sometimes two or three times a day. The storms are usually intense, and often accompanied by lightning and thunder, but brief in duration. Sometimes even when it is not raining the air remains thick with water; last week some drink mix that I'd spilled on the counter spontaneously became little droplets of Gatorade.

Add to this daily deluge uneven roads and poor or non-existent drainage infrastructure and the cleansing rain ends up producing mud and muck throughout the city. Huge puddles form instantly, sometimes blocking all available walking paths. Some puddles disappear just as quickly once the rain stops, while others stubbornly stick around to wait for the next storm. I arrived at work Monday morning with socks and shoes soaked clear through after wading through the remains of the most recent monsoon. This led to a moment of stark realization as I finally understood why most people here wear sandals or go barefoot everyday, no matter the degree of formality of the rest of their attire.

On the positive side, the temperature has come down a bit and the plants have never been more green. As I'm not a fan of the cold, I think I'll gladly take four months of warm rain to snow and freezing wind any day. As the leaves fall and the Charles River freezes I'll be looking for creative ways to circumvent puddles. I just have to get around to finally buying an umbrella and learn to wear sandals with dress slacks. Don't expect to see any pictures.



Smart not to wear shoes.


Water, water, everywhere.


Some streets turn into canals. Venice without the boats?

More pictures here.

Ayudha Pooja

October is holiday season in India. We had two work holidays last week (for the end of Ramadan and Gandhi’s birthday), one this week, and in a few weeks is Diwali, the biggest holiday of the year.

Yesterday was Ayudha Pooja (known as Durga Puja in other parts of the country). (A pooja or puja is a special prayer or worship ceremony, often performed with the help of a priest.) Today is Vijayadashmi. Ayudha Pooja celebrates the goddess Durga cleaning her weapons before killing the demons, which happened on Vijayadashmi (it also celebrates Rama killing the demon king Ravana). More on the origin of the holiday can be found here and here. Basically, it is a day set aside to consecrate the devices that are used to implement one's work, whatever they may be. Thus, an auto rickshaw driver will wash and clean his vehicle, decorate it with flowers and paint, and park it at the temple over night. Similarly, my co-workers will leave their computers in front of an idol overnight to be consecrated to the god (I suggested that this might be a good idea for all of us, even the non-Hindus, as all our computers seem to be possessed in some way or another).

At IFMR the day was celebrated with a special ceremony in the library. The room was cleaned and a table was arranged with pictures of gods, fruit, and flowers. When the priest arrived, he scattered the flower petals and other offerings in front of the pictures as he performed ancient Sanskrit incantations. The ceremony lasted about ten minutes as the room filled with incense. At the end, those who wished went forward and received a traditional mark of powder on their foreheads (representative of submission to the Almighty and also his omnipresence) and treats were distributed to everyone.

Here, the idea that everything has an essence manifests itself in respect, even for inanimate objects. Although the forms and rituals are vastly different, the idea of consecrating material possessions to God is a familiar concept in Mormonism. Although I’d gladly offer it, I’m pretty sure God wouldn’t want my computer, however; it would vastly decrease His productivity.

IFMR decorated for Ayudha Pooja.


Preparation for the pooja in the library.


The priest here is doing aarti, in which light from wicks soaked in ghee (purified butter) is offered to one or more deities.





Speakers are placed at many street corners during holidays to blare music through the neighborhood. Very festive.


Truck decorated for the pooja.





Auto rickshaw decorated for the pooja.


Manually powered Ferris Wheel.

More pictures can be found here and a video of part of the IFMR library pooja is on my Facebook video page.

The Legend of Onam

September 12th was Onam, a holiday in the state of Kerala (known for beautiful beaches and ayurvedic health treatments, Kerala is in the south west of India). Here in Tamil Nadu, we didn't have the day off work, but we did go to lunch and have traditional Onam foods.

Onam is an ancient harvest festival that celebrates a mythical leader of Kerala, King Mahabali. There are many versions of the legend (see here and here for a few), but as near as I can tell, it goes something like this:

In Kerala, there once lived a wise, generous demon king named Mahabali. A worshipper of Lord Vishnu, Mahabali was loved by his subjects and brought a golden age of happiness and prosperity to Kerala.

However, the gods were jealous of the popularity of Mahabali and sought help from Lord Vishnu. Vishnu took the form of a poor priestly dwarf (some say boy) called Vamana and went to Mahabali just after his morning prayers. The king was impressed by the priest and promised to give him anything that he desired. Sensing that this was no ordinary priest, an advisor to the king tried to persuade him to renege on his promise and send the dwarf away. However, Mahabali had made an oath and would not break it. He told his advisor: "I am prepared to face any consequence but will not go back on my word."

Vamana asked for as much land as he could cover in three steps and Mahabali agreed. Suddenly, Vamana grew to a massive size. With his first step, he covered the whole sky and with his next, he covered the whole earth. Fearing that the third step would destroy all of creation, King Mahabali asked that the third step be placed on his head.

Vishnu complied, placing his third step on the king's head and pushing him into the underworld (Mahabali means great sacrifice). Because of his deep attachment to his people, King Mahabali was permitted to visit the people of Kerala once each year. The annual visit of the king is celebrated during Onam when each family places elaborate designs, often made of flowers, in front of their house to welcome him. Some legends also say that Mahabali was promised that he would rule the earth in a future age.

When I first heard the story of Onam I was perplexed. My Western, overly logical mind couldn't reconcile the many contradictions in the story. Demons are by definition bad; how could a demon king be good and beloved by his people? How could gods be jealous of an earthly ruler and why would they want to depose a good king? How could a just god punish a righteous king who was intent on keeping his promise at all costs and willing to sacrifice himself for his people? It seemed a very irrational story.

However, I've since come to appreciate the legend of Mahabali a great deal. I now see it as a powerful story of doing what is right despite the consequences. It exemplifies a willingness to accept what God gives even if it appears that we are being punished for righteous behavior. Even more profound, in the story of a devil who became a great king, always to be remembered by his people, I find hope that I also can overcome the demons within and perhaps someday be remembered as a force for good. Perhaps there is a little of Mahabali in each of us; both demon and god in embryo.


A traditional Onam welcome to King Mahabali, made out of flower petals, outside of IFMR.


I'm not sure how long they spent on this, but it must have taken hours.

The Wild in Chennai

As the second most populous nation in the world, India is packed with people, everywhere. But even beyond the people, it is a country teaming with all kinds of life (most of which I try to keep out of my stomach).

I hope to see a tiger and ride an Indian elephant while here. In the meantime, everyday life in India is full of animals in various states of domesticity. They add to the vibrancy and vitality of the place as well as to the noise, chaos, and waste.

A tribe of goats live on my street and forage through the trash heaps next door, filling a role as both trash compactor and garbage disposal. Several new kids were born in the last few months and they are very cute. However, I have a dreadful suspicion that they will end up in the open air butcher shop on the corner, unfortunately.

Helping the goats in going through the garbage are hundreds of feral dogs; any truculence toward humans seems to have been beat out of them long ago. They vary in color from white to tan to black, but otherwise they all look the same, likely due to generations of interbreeding; purebreds here are very rare and a real curiosity.

This morning I woke up to find a cow tied up outside my compound. I didn't give it a second thought as I walked passed. People seem to leave their cows tied up all over the place. It is not uncommon to see them standing lazily outside of posh retail shops or pulling old wooden carts down busy urban highways, as buses, trucks, cars, auto-rickshaws, motorcycles, and bicycles whiz around them.

As a wanna-be economist imbibed with a profound respect for property rights, I've often wondered how people keep track of ownership of the various chickens, cows, and goats that wonder through the streets of Chennai. Back in the U.S., I think my mother still has nightmares (thirty years later) of chasing cows and chickens that got out of their enclosures while my father was at work; trying to prevent them from doing any damage or trespassing on a neighbor's lawn. Here, all sorts of animals seem to wander around, unconstrained and unfettered by human boundaries.

The porous boundaries and constant interaction between the worlds of many different species can be frustrating, but it is also enlivening. Much of the developed world is covered in concrete and buildings, sterilized to the point of tedium. Many humans encase themselves in temperature and air quality controlled cubicles, the extent of their daily contact with nature consisting of a scenic postcard on the wall. Sure life is more precarious here; it is not manicured, regulated, confined, encapsulated, safe. But that makes if feel more real, less easy to take for granted. Somehow, the threat of imminent bad makes me better appreciate the good times. Perhaps it is strange that a life of high peaks and low valleys seems preferable to me than a dull, easy, safe existence?

Not that I would mind a faster Internet connection or better air conditioning, however.

Along with the parakeets, I also again have "pet" geckos which live in and around my apartment. Thankfully, I don't have to feed these ones live crickets.


Crows are everywhere here. Luckily, I haven't read any Poe lately.


Some of my neighbors.


Unfortunately, I fear that this is where they end up. If I did need a daily reminder of how great it is to be a vegetarian, this would be it.


This guy was tied up just outside of my building. Notice the blue paint and metal tips on the horns.


Dogs mostly come in three shades: light, darker, and dark.


There must be some socially understood system to determine ownership of animals within neighborhoods; these chickens don't seem to feel any constraints about wondering wherever they please.


One of the kittens who frequents our cafeteria at work and successfully begs for food each day.


More pictures here.

Water is Life

Although I grew up in a desert under the cloud of constant drought, I've only recently come to realize the importance of water. I used to pride myself on my camel-like ability to run long distances on very little water. Here, I have to be constantly vigilante to guard against dehydration. Although I think summer humidity in Boston is probably worse than the humidity here, I lose a lot more water here due to stomach issues and more sweating (a consequence of less pervasive use of air conditioning and often being crowded into vehicles filled to twice or three times their capacity). I've also been more heightened to my water usage as I must pay for the water that I consume (my body can only handle bottled water). Compounding my awareness is the fact that the water in my apartment is so full of minerals (or something) that the constant leak from my water heater has left a permanent stain on the bathroom floor and any water left on dishes after I wash them leads to rust spots as soon as it dries. I really hope this caustic water isn't somehow damaging my skin...

Waterways that I've seen here in Chennai are mostly disgusting; noisome, putrid, fetid—like open sewers. I can often tell when I am riding over a bridge, even if I can't see the water below because of the intense noxious odor. Very sad, but not really surprising as I see at least four or five men urinating in public everyday and it isn't uncommon to see children defecating by the side of the road (it isn’t just puppy poo you have to be careful to avoid here). It makes me appreciate the public service announcements that I heard in Uganda encouraging people to use latrines. It also makes me a little homesick for the "pristine" Charles River in Boston.

Some have argued that water will be more important than oil before the end of this century. I'm not sure of all the details, but I do know that water is pretty basic to life in a way that oil is not. My father has made a really good return on investment on the water shares that he retained from the old farm. Maybe it is time for me to adjust my portfolio...in the meantime I'll be investing in Aquafina—one bottle at a time.


A typical waterway in Cheannai.





Elliots Beach in Besant Nagar is a little nicer than Santhome Beach, although still not suitable for sun bathing.


A cool Hindu temple.


Not sure why this elaborate design was outside a FabIndia (a chain store which sells clothes and household goods), but it was pretty cool.

As usual, more pictures can be found here.

Some scenes of the city

I haven't had much time to explore the city yet. As I do, I'll post pictures. Here is the first installment.


A Hindu temple with St. Thomas Basilica (Catholic Church) behind.



St. Thomas Basilica--one of the most beautiful buildings I've seen in Chennai. According to tradition, Thomas, one of the 12 apostles of Jesus Christ came to Chennai in 52 C.E. He was assassinated with a spear in 72 C.E. This is one of three Catholic Churches in the world that is said to be built on the tomb of an apostle. The other two are the Basilica of St. Peter, built over the tomb of St. Peter in Rome and the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela built over the tomb of St. James in Spain.



Although this is the tomb of Thomas, I believe that most of his remains were moved to the Middle East centuries ago.



Santome Beach on the Bay of Bengal. I've been told that there are nice beaches in India, just apparently not here in Chennai. Going to the beach to sunbath and swim is not really in the culture here.



Fishing.



Fishing nets.

More pictures can be found here.

Also, by special request from Sue, I've uploaded a short, very non-professional video of my apartment which can be found here. Although small, if local people were living here, this place could probably house a family of five (or more). Rich, spoiled American...I know.