Thanks Sunanda - the beach looks really jolly & colourful. Glad you had a nice time. I had a lovely Christmas with my family (managed not to get stressed for once :))

Yvonne xxx

James, the Indian visa situation is just too silly. The newest ploy is that anyone whose visa expires now has to spend two months out of India before they can get back in. Many many westerners spend long periods of time in India and in the past would just hop up to Nepal or over to Thailand or Sri Lanka for 48 hours to renew their visa. They can no longer do that.

A good friend of mine who more or less lived in India for many years has been found, by the new computers, to have once overstayed his visa and is now refused a new one. He has plenty of money to live on in India, bothers no one, is involved in no illegal activity - yet he can't get back into the country he loves.

Bizarre. Anyway, James, I hope you enjoy your journey when you finally make it!

Strange! Makes no sense to me - what is the purpose of this? who does it benefit?

If Thailand gives virtually everyone a visa on arrival, why can't india?

India could have several million more visitors and not even notice - they would all bring money into the country. The longer that the stay, the better it is for the economy.

Thanks for all your posts from over there!

Oh Sunanda, the beach photo looked great. So colourful and busy with lots of people. It really cheers me up on another cold Winters day here. I love reading your description of all your visits to the temple. Thank you for sharing them.

Hello Sunanda,

I've loved reading your posts since they started, although I have not posted due to not having the energy to think of anything origional to say I have been here, and I love all the photo's your descriptions are so brilliant I reckon you should write a book.
Glad you have the ants under control, the latest beach photo is fab, adding pictures makes all the fab things you write seem even more real and really bring it all to life.

Love and Happy Christmas

Rebecca xxx

The Coconut Man

It's 6pm on New Year's Day and I have been driven in from the balcony by a) mosquitos and b) rain. I've been home alone all day since an excursion to the dentist this morning and the extraction of two teeth. This was always on the cards - I posted before I left UK about my dental problems and I'm not going to go into them again. Suffice it to say that I feel I'm in good hands here and am happy to stay at home this evening, having shopped for supplies on the way back. (Lunch was a particularly good vegetable soup - I am soooo glad I brought my hand held blender from England - and supper is going to be a Spanish omelette.) An early bed is on the cards.
I wanted just to mention a visit I had the other day which would certainly not have happened in England. In England, if there's a knock on the door it might be the man who reads the meter or the delivery man wanting you to take in a parcel for next door but here there was a knock on my front door one lunchtime and it was the Coconut Man!!! Kerala is the land of the coconut - literally that's what the name means - and the whole state is simply covered with coconut palms. Well, this is a valuable crop: here everyone cooks with coconut oil and every other part of the fruit is used too - the outer husk for example becomes coir (rope) and the most refreshing drink is the tender coconut water. I really had no idea until I came here just what coconuts actually look like on the tree. My only encounters with coconuts came at the annual funfair when I was a kid and my Dad always won one at the coconut shy.
Anyway, there is a special caste of coconut palm climbers and these men shimmy up the palms, their only aid being a string which ties their feet together. At their wastes they carry a wicked looking machete to chop away the dead fronds and to chop down the ripe coconuts. Believe me, you don't stand underneath! My house was actually built around the two coconut palms which stand inside its perimeter and the landlord had sent this man round to harvest the nuts. The bonus for me was that I was given one which had its top hacked off by; the machete so that I could drink the water and then the coconut man chopped it in two so that I could eat the flesh inside, which if the coconut is young enough is full of nutrients. They don't come any fresher than that.
I took photos and will try to upload a couple but sometimes it takes so long I give up....
Anyway, Happy New Year everyone., Can't believe I've been here a month already.

Thank you so much Sunanda for giving us a glimpse into a different way of life. It has been so cold, snowy and icy here that it has been great to read of your experiences - even the ants. We used to protect beds and tables from safari ants by putting the table legs and feet of the beds into old tins with paraffin in them. They wont swim across paraffin! and when the ants have gone the paraffin can be used for its normal purpose again.

I can't believe it's been a month since you went away! Time flies ... :rolleyes:

Hi James

If you think India is bonkers with visas, so is Thailand. They may give out free 30day tourist visas but other silly visa arrangements. For example, you can get a 1 year visa, but you have to leave the country and reenter every 90 days. Each time costs more money and it supports a whole industry of visa runs to the border.

Hi Sunanda

Just got back from Thailand, indulgening (sp) in coconuts and other fruits, yum. Hope you are enjoying the new year out there.

Best wishes

RP

Hi RP, glad you enjoyed Thailand. I agree that the visa regulations in some of these Asian countries beggar belief. One would imagine that they would welcome our western spending power - not that it's anything like it used to be! - but no, we are sent in and out of the country and generally the regulations make it difficult for us. Here in India, the rule about having to stay out of the country for 2 months before re-entering came about because one of the Mumbai bombers apparently went in and out of the country on reconnaisance missions thus it appeared like a good idea to someone in authority to throw a blanket ban on foreigners re-entering India after leaving to renew visas. Talk about shutting the stable door!

Anyway, on to my next little subject which is:

HEAD CARRYING MEN

At every railway station in India, and certainly in every tourist resort, you will find a group of head carrying men. They are porters and they carry everything on their heads. They wear red shirts and often a cloth wrapped around their heads to protect them from their loads. Believe me, it's quite something to see a man walking along the boardwalk of the beach with a single bed balanced on his head - and I mean a proper bed. When I bought my second hand fridge, which I brought home in the boot of a taxi (see photo) the driver went off to find a couple of head carrying men. Well, he only found one; stick thin and by no means young, this superman got the fridge onto his head (with help from the driver and my landlord's ne-er-do-well brother who happened to be passing by and scented a tip) and then negotiated the narrow and winding pathway to my house - and received a well deserved 200 rupees for his pains.
One of the head carrying men is an especial favourite of mine, although after 14 years I'm ashamed to say I still don't know his name. I know he is Muslim and that he is dumb (I mean that he can't speak!) but he understands English very well and has never let me down when I have booked him to come and carry my luggage from my guesthouse to the taxi. He has never asked me for money but always seems genuinely pleased to see me each time I return. By such relationships is my life in India enriched. Another of the head carrying men is an old Muslim gentleman with an alcohol problem. He's a lovely old chap but he can't keep away from the booze. He has a gorgeous son whom again I've known since he was a kid - the boy has always been very pragmatic about his father's problem and has a very attractive and outgoing appearance and aura. Imagine my surprise when I encountered him this year and found that he's turned himself into a really cool surfing dude. He's in the equivalent of the Upper Sixth now, so going on 18; if only there was a way to get him a scholarship at a university in Hawaii!!! (Well, the universe may look favourably upon him - who knows? These things happen.)

Lovely stories and pictures, such an escape from the cold reality of England, what a lucky lady you are :nature-smiley-008:

Happy New Year Sunanda!

It's lovely catching up with you now and then and enjoying the photos. The good old Ambassador cars - once that's all you saw in India, though there are still plenty around. Your coconut man reminded me of my favourite holiday spot in Singapore, where I grew up. There was a government holiday bungalow at Changi (it's probably under the runway now) and was surrounded by coconut trees and there were always little men up there - partly to keep us safe, I suspect! Your beach looks wondrous!

Have fun

Love

Judy

Hi everyone
Thanks again for your all your lovely comments. I am still here and still well and taking things very easy. I had another appointment at the dentist to have the stitches out and a very thorough polish. On the 1st Feb I will go to be measured for my new false teeth (three of them!) They asked if I wanted implants but I couldn't afford them even though they are three times cheaper than they would be in England. I'm not sure I could take all the drilling and screwing, and anyway my other teeth would probably fall out in the meantime. But one thing is sure, I will never ever have another NHS mercury filling. Unfortunately, the dentist I'm seeing here doesn't seem to be au fait with the procedure for removing amalgam fillings - from what I've read, you need to use a dam of some sort to stop any of the mercury going down your throat - but next time I come I may shop around as there are some dentists who are more up to date than others. The practice I'm going to is a husband and wife team who were recommended to me by a German friend who is married to an Indian man. And I must say they seem fine.
Anyway, apart from that, and a spot of shopping for household items in the bazaar in the city (I bought an iron for £7.50) I've really not been doing much. A friend from England arrived yesterday with his partner, who's never been to India before. He (Ron) was one of the four friends I was with the first time I ever came here but he's more a work colleague than a close friend so he knows nothing of - what shall I call it? - my inner life, or my connection with the temple or anything like that. It may come as a shock to him to see me in a sari!
I had become friendly over the last couple of weeks with a Swedish woman, a little younger than me, a Kundalini yoga teacher who has been hooked by Kali and our little temple just as I was 15 years ago. It was her last day yesterday so we went back to visit a Shiva temple we had discovered about 10km from here. It overlooks the sea and is very beautiful. Tonight I am having a holiday from temples and pujas - an evening in with the computer and the Kindle. And I'm looking forward to a supper of fried eggs and tomatoes on toast. The toast will be made on a small round griddle which I also bought in the bazaar, it's what the local people use to make chapattis on. I'm also having another go at making my own yogurt, or curd as it's called here; I did try when I first arrived but I think the temperature actually wasn't warm enough then.
I treated myself to a 'treatment' yesterday from a young man who offers Shiatsu, Jo Shin Doh, acupressure, reflexology etc. It was a tad painful at times but I left feeling very energised and at £10 for an hour and a half it didn't exactly break the bank. I had to laugh at myself as I had asked him when making the appointment what I should wear and was told 'inner wear' which I took to mean 'underwear'. He was quite hunky but very proper - and no you don't detect a note of disappointment there!!!

Edited the next morning to say bah! My yogurt failed to set again. Yet I used exactly the same method that worked so well when I lived in Tamil Nadu on the other side of the country.

Bah, too, to the mini invasion of semi poisonous red centipedes (like leathery red worms) that I keep finding in the house. Luckily they're slow so if I spot them I can remove them to a place of greater safety for both of us.

But hooray - the electricity bill just arrived. Just over two quid for three months! Unbelievable. (And now we're having a power cut.)

Hi Sunanda

Thank you for your update. It's like reading a letter from an old friend (not aged!) and is just lovely.

I haven't said much..but just want you to know Sunanda I am reading enjoying your "blogging"

Hi Sunanda,

I really feel you should complain about the amount of your electricity bill - it's outrageous!! :p

I'm so happy for you that you're having such a well-deserved rest and restoration!

I used to make the most delicious fattening yoghurt with yoghurt culture and-wait-for-it evaporated milk. It always came out perfect every time, but my secret was to make it in a wide-necked Thermos flask. Perhaps you could try that - the Thermos, not the evaporated milk, although you might enjoy that as a treat!

Love

Judy

Cultural differences

I've been meaning for some time to jot down a few of the cultural differences between the West, as I know it, and India as I have experienced it over the last decade and a half. You see, when I first came to India I had this idea in the back of my mind that, as I knew many Indian people in England, Indian people in India would be just like them. I was really shocked to find myself in the middle of a totally alien culture and it is still not possible to wrap my head around some of the differences. A friend, who has lived here many years and who is married to an Indian, said once that unravelling India is like peeling an onion: each time you think you've reached the centre there's another layer underneath. Now, I have to say that some of my observations are going to come across as pretty negative; those of us who have spent long periods living on the sub-continent find a lot to moan about. And paradoxes abound. So please bear in mind that the following comments are my own personal opinion only and that I have only the greatest affection for India and its people.

One of the first things that strikes visitors to India is the complete anarchy on the roads. It's not quite so bad now and traffic lights have been installed (I'm talking of the South here) and are mainly obeyed, but overtaking on the brow of a hill and on blind corners is still obligatory. As is the use of the horn. In general, Indian men are fairly meek but put them behind the wheel of a car, bus or lorry and they turn into roadhogs. Roadhogs who have never heard of a highway code. 'After you.' 'No, after you.' simply doesn't happen in India. Crossing a city street is an exercise in blind faith. The only way to do it is to close your eyes and walk. Hesitate and you'll never get there!

Another major difference is that shoes (or chappals - sandals) are never worn indoors. Big shops are an exception but apart from that, you leave your footwear at the threshold of a building. Even the dental clinic that I've been attending has a sign at the door saying 'please leave your shoes here'. Actually, I remember an amusing tale from my first visit to India - I had bought a pair of blue rubber flipflops and gone up to the Kali temple one evening during the festival. I arrived early when there were only a few people there and left my sandals in the appropriate place. Well, being a festival lots more people arrived over the next hour or so and when I came to leave I discovered a pile of seemingly identical blue flipflops. Panicked, I found a pair that could possibly have been mine but I never did find out if they were my original ones or not! (After that I always tried to buy an unusual colour or leave my sandals in an isolated corner!)

Eating is always done by the local people, poor and rich, with the right hand, (The left hand is used for another purpose and is unclean.) Most places provide cutlery for foreigners but I once heard that there is a saying 'eating food with cutlery is like conducting a love affair through an interpreter.' The mistake most westerners make when they try it is to be squeamish about it and only use the fingertips. The idea is that you squidge a mouthful up in the palm of your hand before using your fingertips to put it into your mouth. Before you begin to eat you 'wash' your hands (only using water.) Every Indian eating place will have an area labelled 'handwash'. The poorer establishments will have a bucket of water and a pot to use to pour it over your hands. After your meal you again wash your hands and take a mouthful of water to wash out your mouth - then you spit. (Really it's not for the squeamish. Oh and hankies and tissues are considered unhygienic - you blow your nose onto the ground, usually not in the middle of the path but off to the side.)

Indian people's homes are a revelation. Given the variety and beauty of the textiles available, you'd think they would be beautiful - but no one seems to want to spend money on their interiors. Generally there is a lack of aesthetic appeal, as we would know it. There's also often a lack of order - clutter abounds. And while the floor is swept regularly, it's about the only surface that is. I have never, in any house except those occupied by westerners, seen a bed made up with sheets and pillows with matching pillow cases. And this despite the fact that you can buy the most beautifully decorated printed cotton sheets with pillow covers included. For very little money by our standards. There are usually some kind of bedcovers piled on one end of the bed and that's it. I'm told that Indian women sleep in their saris although they also wear 'nighties' which are kind of long shapeless housedresses that they wear at home for cooking etc. These garments will also get them as far as the local shops but no further. I have a couple and they are extremely comfortable. Mind you, the Indian ladies wear bra and petticoats underneath them. My researches lead me to the conclusion that neither men nor women are ever - ever - naked. They are really really modest, even in company with their own sex. When Indian families come to the beach the women go into the sea fully dressed. They are also completely non-tactile: small children and babies are shown physical affection by everyone but there comes a cut off age, probably puberty, and after that there’s no more cuddles. I’ve reached the point now with my Indian friends when they will offer me a hand to shake and the men and women whom I have a special bond with will take both my hands, but it’s taken years to reach that point. However, there are a handful of women – well just two or three actually – who have got used to me wanting to hug them hello or goodbye at the beginning and end of my stay and once they get over their reticence you can tell they really enjoy being touched. There’s one older woman though whose arm I inadvertently stroked as I was talking to her and she moved away and told me to stop; inappropriate behaviour you see. The young men in their twenties, whom I’ve known since they were children will sometimes punch me gently on the arm in the middle of some mild banter and at my birthday puja I insisted that a couple of them give me a kiss on the cheek; cue much laughter and jollity. (You have to bear in mind that I’m a silver haired sixty year old; if I were 20 years younger my actions could have been totally misinterpreted as I gather that there is something of a tradition of young men being ‘used’ by older married women, especially those whose husbands are away working in the Gulf. Mind you, this is hearsay – I know of no such instances.

I said that there are paradoxes: one of them is that while being very reticent about what they really think or feel (although they do have a lovely saying which seems to cover any deep emotion: ‘I am very feeling’) they can be very blunt. You will be asked not only your age but also how much you earn. If you give someone a gift, you might as well leave the price tag on it as you will be asked how much it cost. Your appearance will be discussed – and criticised – in front of you. I always get my hair cut really short before I come to India but usually go first to Tamil Nadu. This is the first time I have arrived in Kerala with cropped hair and a lot of people (men and boys) have told me how much they dislike it. One comment was simply ‘You must never ever cut your hair like that again!’ They don’t seem to get my point that by the time I leave it will have reached the length they’re used to. In Tamil Nadu quite a few people used to tell me ‘you are very dull’ which offended me mightily until I learned that they were actually telling me that I’d lost weight. Of course, being ‘lean’ is also frowned upon; spare tyres are not frowned upon here.

One last point: when you meet someone they will invariably ask ‘did you have your breakfast?’ I’m still unsure whether they would provide one if I answer ‘no’. Oh, and taking a bath never ever means what we think it does. In fact I think I’ve only ever seen one bathtub during all my travels, and that was in a posh hotel. A ‘bath’ here means pouring water over yourself from a bucket using a plastic pot. It’s actually a very nice way to get clean though I have reached an age when I draw the line at using cold water, apart from during very hot weather. Instead one of my most precious possessions is a large water heating coil – exactly similar to the kind you can take on holiday to heat a mug of water to make tea or coffee but bucket sized. Three minutes and the water is at just the right temperature. And that’s what I’m going to do now – take my bath.

I hope this hasn’t been too long. I’m sure I will think of some more stuff before too long.

Fascinating Sunanda.

Sometimes one has to remember that customs develop over sometimes hundreds of years - so because it is a custom, doesn't always mean it is obvious to outsiders! You must be enjoying it all from the tone of your writing.

I'm not refering to you, but sometimes (perhaps too often), and more especially in the past, we Westerners are remarkably blinkered, to our own detriment. Looking outside the 'box' brings great rewards!

Thanks, Caroline. It has always occurred to me that I have been remarkably blessed to have been given access to so many Indian homes and families and to have been in a position to make these observations. Most foreigners don't see beyond their hotel rooms. But there is stuff too that I find difficult to reconcile with my initial naive beliefs that all Indian people are, of necessity, versed in spirituality. Most are not.
Another point I wanted to make was that the vast majority of Indian people are totally dependent on allopathic medicine. Whenever anyone is ill it is called 'fever' and anyone who has a 'fever' takes themself off to the nearest hospital for an injection. They never ask what the injection is or what specifically is wrong with them. My resident German friend assures me that she has it on very good authority (a doctor no less) that the injection is simply a placebo, often a dose of vitamins. Otherwise antibiotics are not only freely prescribed but are available over the counter so very rarely is a full course taken.
Indians also consume a heck of a lot of white sugar and white rice: only where there are large numbers of alternative type Western residents (eg Auroville) are wholewheat and organic food items to be found. Indeed, many many Indians are diabetic due to their overconsumption of sugar. (If you buy a cup of chai - tea - at a roadside stall, it will come very well sugared unless you ask for it to be unsweetened or with little sugar.) Pesticides are widely used, it's actually not a very healthy country to live in!

Just read yesterdays post followed by todays Sunanda. How utterly fascinating your observations are. Will you write a book one day on your travels? I would think it will be very enjoyable if you did! Please may I have a signed copy??!!!

you describe it well Sunanda. North is different still. I have not been to South myself...India is Mary ~Mary all contrary! Either you love it or loathe it, I do both! enjoying your posts.
Hugs(I am from North!)
Ruby

Meanwhile back at the temple.....it's soap opera time! On Monday I descended into a little trough of mild depression; many little things contributed, I think. For example, I'd gone to see Amma at her Trivandrum programme on Saturday and was unable to get a personal hug as there were just too many people. They suggested I return at 5.30am the next morning and I realised I just couldn't be bothered, which in turn made me feel bad. Add to that I was missing being able to chat with old English mother tongue pals...my Indian friends mainly have quite good English but there's always that hesitation in the conversation when a word goes missing in translation. It's a tad frustrating. Anyway I phoned a friend, as one does(!), and he said he would come round at 6pm for a chat (he's Indian but his English is excellent and I've known him for nearly 15 years) and I finally got together the ingredients to make a yummy wholewheat pasta, as I'm sure my blues were fuelled by lack of food.
Thus, and I've taken a long time to say this, I didn't go to the temple on Monday evening. Well, I'm quite glad I didn't as I heard at lunchtime on Tuesday, from the temple President no less, that one of 'my boys' who's on the temple committee, had perceived an insult from the Secretary. He'd then watered his resentment with six bottles of beer and gone back to the temple roaring drunk and demanding a fight!!! His poor mother (my old old friend) had been called, along with his brother and it took them and six other people to hold him down and then get him home. The following day his resignation was demanded. It's a major scandal here though no one is talking of it openly. Drink is really looked upon differently: if you are a 'drinking man' you are probably an alcoholic and you will drink until you fall down. Some of the richer men will pass a bottle of whisky around after dinner and get quite merry but social drinking, as we know it, simply doesn't exist. And women never ever drink alcohol. The fact that I'm known to have the occasional beer is excused by my age and my foreignness. Another factor is that the Malayali people (people from Kerala) seem to be hypersensitive in many ways: long ago, I greeted the brother of a very close male friend with something like 'What's happened to you today? Aren't you going to say hello to me?' Just joshing. Imagine my horror when I learned that he'd taken to his bed and refused to go to work for three days as he was so upset by what I'd said.
The second part of the soap opera is really quite lovely: there's a young man - an auto rickshaw driver - who comes to the temple every night. He prostrates to the deity, offers a beautiful hand made flower garland, and sits respectfully through the chanting. It seems he's 34 and has been married about a year. Someone told me that his wife is a Muslim - interfaith marriage is quite unusual though not unknown. Anyway I asked him if his wife ever comes to the temple and he said he would bring her. A few days later she turned up, a beautiful 20 year old who joined in all the prayers. A few days later with very little language in common she opened up to me and told me their story. It seems theirs is a love match and that they are not actually married but are living in sin at his mother's house. His mother is OK about it (so she says) but her parents have disowned her. I surmise, though I could be wrong on this, that her husband's times at the temple are some kind of penance, also I think he feels she should be pregnant by now and maybe he thinks its a judgment that she's not. (I told her to make the most of having her handsome husband to herself and not to worry about having a baby who will take up all of her time and keep them awake all night. Of course, they don't see it like this but it made her laugh!)
So that's the latest. I am waiting to hear whether the Temple want to produce a festival programme in English this year - because if they do, I shall be writing it. Yesterday I had a day out to Kanyakumari, the very southernmost tip of India. I went with my two gay friends from England (well, one friend and work colleague and his partner) and on the spur of the moment invited Malu, the 11 year old daughter of the temple cleaning lady. She'd never been out of Kerala before and I'm not too sure whether she enjoyed the day or not, though now it's over she says she did! Her family is extremely poor but she's such a bright spark - oh for a big win on the Premium Bonds so that I could sponsor her education and see her into some unimaginable future. This is what my late Canadian friend did for the two sons of his cook - and now one of them is living and working in Vancouver and the other in Washington State. If not for David, they'd probably be rickshaw drivers by now.
My washing calls....
xxx

As ever, Sunanda, your musings make fascinating reading!

Thank you Sunanda so much for your last two missives! Makes me feel so homesick for India - I must get back there before too long.

During our last holiday there, when we were staying with Parsi friends, my husband Ian said, "Do you know what India is? Almost perfect." And that's sort of stayed with us - whenever we come across something odd or funny or quaint about it, we both say, "Almost perfect."

I agree with you about the interior decor - apart from millionaire apartments in Mumbai!
Very often you'll find old dark wooden furniture, with often hard, uncomfortable chairs, pictures so high up on the walls that you can't see them and (my biggest complaint) a single light bulb up on the ceiling, so there's no way of reading at night!

But that's not what I remember most - it's the incredible grace, hospitality and generosity of even the poorest Indian people I've met, from all walks of life.

Another great read, Sunanda. I hope this is all being saved for submission to a publisher!

Here Here Barafundle I really do think Sunanda should write a book not only because you are good at it Sunanda (you write in an earthy but interesting way) but because it's all very real, I should imagine thousands of people want to visit India but never do because they are apprehensive about so many things and the other travel books I have read lack that earthy, tell it like it is vibe.
Thank you for including the part about Indian homes Sunanda you have cleared up something for me which I have been wondering about for years, there used to be a programme on BB2 about the Indian railway this one family, had one grown up daughter and dad had worked on the railway since being a boy and was about to retire they freely admitted to having a disposable income but the inside of the home was so basic and I couldn't get my head round it there was so colour or decoration, nothing ornemental or comfy and like you say if there is a country on earth which is known for it's fabrics and beautiful nik naks, I've collected indian furniture (you are sooooo right Judy the chairs are rock hard with iron poking you in the back but what the heck it looks fab!) and go-with's for years I love the colour's, opulance and sumprtiousness of it all but I often have to travel to find it or pay rip off prices via the internet and when I watched the Indian railway programme it made me wonder why people would not want it when it's on their doorstep and I dare say much, much cheaper than the prices I pay for it here (imported from there).

Love

Rebecca

WEDDINGS

I was invited to a wedding last week and have another one to go to in a week's time so I thought it would be appropriate to write a little about Kerala weddings and the concept of marriage in general. You may not know that even in the 21st century arranged marriages are the norm in India; love marriages do take place but are generally frowned upon. It's very hard for most of us to wrap our heads around the idea of marrying someone we don't know and have hardly met, but here it happens all the time. The way it takes place is that the family of the man or woman who are deemed to be ready for marriage (here in Kerala the men are often approaching their late 20s or early 30s, while the girl is usually somewhere between 19 and 25) start looking for a prospective match. Far flung family are often called into the search and once a possible candidate is identified there may be investigations into their family background, character etc together with a consultation with a Vedic astrologer to see if the horoscopes look auspicious. It may only be after this that the prospective couple get to meet each other, and then only for a very short and very formal visit. A lot of my acquaintances in Tamil Nadu and Karnataka are from the priestly Brahmin class and are wealthy enough to be able to take their time about the choosing. One young man I knew, whose wedding I ultimately went to, would email me during the search, to tell me how he was getting on. One email said 'I have seen 6 girls so far; I rejected five and one rejected me' so you see, there is a certain element of choice involved. In Tamil Nadu, although first cousins can't marry I came across several instances where girls had married their mother's younger brother - their Uncle - usually to keep the money in the family and to save on costs. Here in Kovalam, everyone seems to be related to eveyone else anyway so it's more likely that the couple will at least know each other a little.

A wedding is a hugely costly affair and although it's been outlawed, the custom of the bride's family giving dowry still exists. Several of my male friends here in Kerala have made a point of telling me that their bride is coming from a poor family and they are not asking for dowry. However, she will usually bring some gold with her - in the form of necklaces, earrings etc - and the groom's relatives will know exactly the weight of gold she brings and will tut if it's just a small amount. The wedding I'm going to next week, of the 24 year old boy whom I've known for many years, is a very low key affair: only 600 invitations have been sent. (When I say sent, I mean hand delivered - and these are beautifully printed invitations, with embossed pictures of Ganesh and Krishna and Radha.) This one is taking place in the little temple - I've shown you pictures, so you imagine how 600 people are going to fit in there - but the norm is for the ceremony to be held in a purpose built marriage hall. This is like a large auditorium with a stage at one end where the bride and groom and their families sit while a Hindu pandit, or priest, performs the sacred rites. Usually there will be a video crew filming the whole thing (the resulting video is often shown to visitors after the wedding and, sorry, is hugely boring.) Afterwards people take it in turns to ascend the stage to have their photos taken with the newlyweds, everyone standing stiff as a board.

Most people are more interested in the marriage banquet: this takes place in an adjoining hall where long rows of tables are set up and laid with banana leaves upon which are placed little heaps of different foods: three different kinds of pickle, for example, plus various dollops of gloopy - but delicious - vegetables, a banana, a papadum, a sweet, blobs of different varieties of raita - and then comes the serious stuff: serving boys wend their ways along the far side of the tables, carrying between them buckets from which they ladle out huge scoops of rice, then dal, more rice, then sambar (vegetable stew), more rice, then rasam (clear, spicy soup), then spoonfuls of sweet, gloopy stuff (sorry, best description I can come up with), then a kind of rice pudding but made with vermicelli and finally ladlefuls of spicy buttermilk which they pour into your hand. All in all there should be 22 (I think I was told 22) items on the leaf. By the way, this is not a social meal - no one talks, they just shovel the food down then get up and head to the washbasins out at the side where they wash their hands and then wash out their mouths. They have to move quickly as the next sitting is waiting to eat! (Bear in mind that this all took place at about 10am.)

Now the afternoon before this particular wedding there was a pre-wedding party at the bride's house which also involved being fed great mounds of food, and very little else except for the opportunity to congratulate the bride to be in advance and donate 100 rupees to her mother, presumably to help towards the costs of staging the feast. This particular family pushed the boat out and served chicken to those who wanted it - the wedding banquet was pure vegetarian.

I have some photos which I shall try to put up for you - these of the marriage hall wedding last week. Something that has struck me whenever I've been to an Indian wedding is how very self conscious everyone seems and how inhibited. No one larks about (except for the children) and no one wants to draw attention to themselves. Conformism is the name of the game. Mind you, it has occurred to me that this is possibly down to the lack of alcohol which of course acts as such a social lubricant at most of our functions in the West!

Having said all that, I have to say that most arranged marriages seem to pan out pretty well in the long run. Mind you, you have to bear in mind that Indian people have a totally different idea of what a marriage actually is. Here a young woman marries a family, not just the man. She invariably moves into his parents’ house and will then take her place as another daughter to her mother-in-law, with whom she will spend most of her time. She will rarely go out socially with her husband, or spend time alone with him. He will carry on as he did before marriage, spending most of his time out with his mates, only going home to eat and sleep. Everyone will hope that the bride becomes pregnant as soon as possible and when she does she will return to her parents house to give birth to the baby, remaining there for a month afterwards. If they live at some distance from her husband’s home, it’s possible that he may not even be there for the birth. (I have been told that this custom is to protect her from her husband’s sexual attentions after the birth, the idea being that he could not be expected to restrain his urges if she were still sharing his bed!)

Fascinating, isn’t it? A whole different world....

Thank you again Sunanda for giving us an insight to customs that are different from ours. Lovely pictures!

What is the canopy decorated with - are they flowers? If so it would take a considerable time to construct!

Hello Sunanda

I completely missed your thread, I wondered if you had gone to India. Seeing it is in the travel section that is why I never saw it. I go immediately to General Discussions then not much further.

Anyway have skipped through your adventures and makes interesting reading, glad you are having a good time. When do you return back to Blighty?

You did of course did miss the biggest snow up since well, lets say last winter. Even us Londoners suffered badly.

When you mentioned about the washing bowls in restaurants it reminded me of what my dad told me about the army during the war. There were 3 buckets to be used after eating your meal.

Bucket 1 - rinse
Bucket 2 - wash
Bucket 3 - sterilize

as you can imagine after about 30 blokes had done their washing up all three buckets of water looked identical.

Hi Caroline, yes the canopy is covered with flowers. The marriage hall people take care of all the decorations, catering etc. Big business - and guaranteed demand!

Hi OB, you can't imagine how grateful I am to have missed all that cold, sleet and snow. I have Raynaud's so my fingers and toes just about fall off in cold weather. Even when I'm sitting here in the evening with sweat pouring off me, I'm still glad to be here. I'm back in UK on 1st March and a week later I'm going to start training to be a guide in the Houses of Parliament. Another string to my bow - but quite a challenge too. Hope I can cope.

xxx

Hey congratulations about the new qualification Sunanda! That sounds like a good job for when it's raining! :p

Love

Judy

Namaste everyone!

I'm back...and it really does feel like from outer space as I have spent the past week participating in the Kali festival at 'my' temple. In practice this has meant getting up around 5am each day and traipsing off to the temple for the first puja of the day...then spending the morning doing little things to help, and taking part in more pujas. Chatting a little with the young musicians (!) and getting to know the four little boys who spent the festival sleeping at the temple and being taught how to pranaam (prostrate), help the priests etc, before their big evening last Thursday when they led the little girls' procession down to the temple. I will try to sort out some photos, not sure if I have any actually as I was experimenting with taking videos but it quickly became impossible for me to use the camera - it puts such a barrier between you and what you are watching....I suppose if I get it together when I get home I could put them on youTube and you could all see how amazing the shamanic dance is and the drums....and the flowers and the lights.....:029: The final ceremony didn't happen until 1.30am last night and I came home totally hollowed out. Thankfully my little neighbour friend, Maloo, whose mother and grandmother clean the temple - and work their saris off during the festival - has been to get me a packet of milk so I've had a cup of chai but otherwise I'm sitting here in my 'nightie' catching up with emails, HP etc and wondering what I'm going to do with myself for the next three weeks until I come home. For a start I will have to think about lunch - during the festival a delicious free vegetarian lunch was provided every day for anyone who turned up. Plus the various bits and bobs of 'prasad' - food, sweet puddings and fruit that have been offered to the god and then shared out among the participants - have kept me going.

Anyway, slowly does it as I get back to 'normal' life. This year's festival was not altogether a happy one from my point of view but it certainly enabled me to witness the way my mind seeks to enmesh me in 'maya' - illusion - and what a cunning, sneaky little deceiver my ego is.

So maybe more later....when I become a little more bobulated!:)

xxxx