Thursday I took an afternoon train to Bangalore to visit with Dr. Nagarajrao Havaldar, the Hindustani classical singer I met last fall in Chicago. Havaldar had very kindly arranged for a hotel room near his home, and his son picked me up at the train to take me there. After a nice visit with son Omkarnath, we went off to Havaldar’s place for dinner. After some conversation, his younger son gave a wonderful demo on the tables, and then Havaldar offered the use of his “Magic Jack” (an internet phone) to talk to Virginia back home! Dinner was strictly vegetarian, but the food was all made from scratch with fresh ingredients by his wife, Sudha. I was very glad to have had some practice eating rasam rice and curd rice with Dr. Kausalya! While I didn’t embarrass myself too badly, they did kindly provide a spoon for future meals!!
On Friday, Omkar picked me up for some morning shopping. We started by browsing at an electronic musical instrument shop they often use—and I saw an electric veena for the first time in my life! I got a new flash memory card for the camera and went looking for some good books, but didn’t find much. We stopped at a really good shop for CDs and DVDs, though, and Omkar helped me pick out some good Hindustani classical recordings, since I don’t know the artists for the northern stuff as well as for the Carnatic music. Even though Bangalore is in south India, it is unusual in this regard—the Mysore maharajahs encouraged both Hindustani and Carnatic styles. Where most of India favors one or the other, both continue to be practiced here. Then it was back to Havaldar’s place for lunch and more talk. I asked him to tell me how he came to study with his gurus, and he gave me the whole story of his life as a musicians. It was wonderful! Havaldar is not only a gifted and knowledgeable practitioner, he is also a historian and storyteller at heart (with advanced degrees in both history and music!), and he knows countless stories about his gurus and all of the great Hindustani artists. He keeps talking about putting these in book form, and I can’t wait till he does! After watching a video of a performance by one of his gurus, it was back to the hotel for a rest. That evening I went back as a guest at a group lessons given by Omkar for some younger students. Virginia is dying to see the video recording of this; she is very curious to see how their work with younger students compares with Suzuki method! The room was full with four young students and their parents! The lesson proceeds in the traditional manner—the guru sings a phrase and the students answer. If they don’t quite get it, the teacher repeats it. If they’re way off, the teacher breaks the phrase into smaller chunks and students repeat those till they get it. Gradually they put together longer and longer sections. Part of the focus is on learning the melodic figures associated with a given raga, part is on learning actual tunes. After a nice home-cooked potluck dinner with the assembled parents and students (men in one room, women in another, and children who knows where!), it was back to the hotel where I stayed up too late watching TV movies!
Saturday morning Havaldar picked me up after breakfast for a driving tour of Bangalore. Once known as the “Garden City,” Bangalore has become a very busy, crowded city whose formerly-tree-lined streets have given way to the influx of people from all over India looking for work in the burgeoning IT industry (and cooler weather!). We stood still in traffic at several spots trying to get into the heart of the city to see Cubbon Park with its many government buildings, including the Karnataka state house and High Court buildings. Then it was off to one of the most unique concert halls I’ve ever seen—Chowdiah Hall (named for a great local musician) is build in the shape of a violin lying on its back! The hollow body houses the auditorium, surrounded by glassed-in hallways on all sides. There are side entrances with small courtyards at the waist of the instrument (between the upper and lower bouts), and the neck and fingerboard (there are even strings and pegs!) shelter a walkway that leads from a drive-up/drop-off spot (under the scroll) to the main entrance (where the neck is attached to the body). Just inside the entrance is a big picture of Chowdiah himself with a painting of the trinity or Carnatic music (Tyagaraja, Sastri, Dikshitar) displayed prominently nearby. Omkar will be giving the lead-off concert at their annual music festival in just a few days! Then it was home for lunch and more conversation, this time peppered with recordings and talk about some of Havaldar’s favorite movie songs (before going to college, he used to sing a lot of those songs for family and friends)! After taking some rest at the hotel it was back to see a lesson with a senior student, a fellow who is working full time at a very good job, but who is passionate about music. This time I got to see Havaldar himself at work with a student. Very enlightening! Dinner this night was my favorite of all. There was a really delicious dal dish, and we also had a small variety of eggplant that was very tasty. Good stuff!
Sunday was my last day in Bangalore, and it was a fitting finale! Havaldar picked me up again and we visited a book shop with a better selection of scholarly books than Omkar and I had found at Sapna. From there we went to see the work of a local painter who has worked closely with Havaldar, G. Jagadish. He does lovely work in several genres, including nature, religious themes, Rajasthani folk, and even abstract. He is also interested in interdisciplinary work, and has frequently been the guest artist at concerts, where he draws at his easel while the music plays! By an auspicious coincidence (again!?), we came in while Dr. Aralumallige Parthasarathy was visiting the studio. Havaldar had just loaned me a copy of this man’s biography of Purandara Dasaru, perhaps the greatest of south Indian composer-musician-saints, and the one who is often said to have “created” Carnatic classical music. Parthasarathy is especially interested in the spiritual side of his subject, and as a parting gift he presented me a copy of his latest book, an explanation and interpretation of the thousand names of Vishnu. No surprise that these three, artist, literary scholar, and musician have found each other—they all shar a common interest in art as a spiritual discipline! Then home for a tour of the new flat they are buying. Their flat just isn’t big enough for three practicing musicians to teach and rehearse, so they’re just now completing the paperwork to purchase a place that opened up in their building for use as a studio for their foundation. This will give much-needed flexibility, and even a guest room for people like me—next time! They dropped me off at the lovely Lalbagh gardens, a huge green-space built by Tipu Sultan and later expanded by the Brits. It was a lovely place to hang out on a Sunday afternoon, and it was just a ten-minute walk from there to the hotel. I rested, packed my bags, checked out, and waited for my ride to the concert. We must have traveled to the far northeast side of town to a small hall in one of the suburbs. They concretize about once a week, and they like to perform in various locations around town. It was a superb concert! Havaldar is a master, and his maturity and depth of expression were evident throughout! Omkar took the role of his backup vocalist. It is a difficult role. Even when you would like to shine, you have to stay in the background and make the lead vocalist sound good (though Havaldar needed no help with that!). It’s like being the guy on the volleyball team who sets up the ball so someone else can smash it. After the concert we had to pay respects to a family Havaldar hasn’t seen for awhile, and then off to dinner at the concert host’s home. Very nice time, but before I knew it, Havaldar said it was time to head for the train. He gave me a hug and paid a porter to make sure I (and my bags) got safely on the train.
If I have a new sister in Dr. Kausalya, I have a new brother in Dr. Havaldar. His generosity continues to amaze me. At one point during my visit he asked if it would be possible to do some kind of residency at Elmhurst College during one of his annual visits to Chicago. It didn’t take long to figure out how that might work! I teach a special topics course in music history every other year, and I’ve been threatening for some time to make Indian music the topic some year. That course comes up next in fall of 2011, and to do that course with an artist like Dr. Havaldar in residence would be phenomenal. He could talk about the great musicians and their music, he could explain raga and tala and other theoretical concepts, he could discuss the history and traditions of his music, and he could give singing lessons to the group and to individuals. What would have been an interesting course now looks to become a phenomenal experience for Elmhurst music majors! I am again humbled and amazed to be one the receiving end of such generosity, especially when (as I see it) I am giving so little in return. Still, this is a relationship I am growing to cherish more and more, and I sense once again the depth of our mutual understanding of music. We use different words and understand theoretical concepts in different ways, but when it comes to grasping deep musical expression and the depth of spirituality inherent in music, we are very much on the same page. I can’t wait to see him again next October and to begin making plans for 2011!!
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Mysore
After so many night trains, it’s always nice to take one in the daylight. As you get into northwestern Tamil-Nadu and cross the line into Karnataka, there are progressively more hills to see, some of them big, bald rocks jutting skyward out of the plain. Shatabdhi trains are very nice—you have A/C, they bring you a newspaper, some tea, and even a meal! There was a long stop in Bangalore, where it seemed like EVERYbody got off the train, and very few got back on. Bangalore certainly seems to be THE major destination for many travelers to this reason, especially the business types, as I might have guessed if I had stopped to think about it. So it was a nice quiet ride from there to Mysore, where I was immediately struck by the city’s beauty. The heavy traffic I’ve become accustomed to in Chennai was non-existent. The streets are lovely and tree-lined, and they do a nice job of keeping the place cleaned up (still not to Western standards, but sparkling compared to most places I’ve been in India).
I checked into the Green Hotel, an eco-friendly place that has converted a former palace (albeit a small one!) into a very nice hotel. There are only half a dozen (rather expensive) rooms in the “palace” itself, but there are plenty more in the adjacent garden house, a large, modern concrete structure. Rooms were simpler than I expected, but comfortable enough. No A/C, but it’s cooler in Mysore (thankfully!) and I never needed it. Spent Tuesday seeing the sights in Mysore, including the Jaganmohan Palace art gallery, the Maharajah’s Palace, St. Philomena Church, and Chamundi Hill with its temple, views of the city, and huge nandi. I also decided to splurge and have lunch at another former palace, built by the Maharajahs for the viceroy. It’s now a luxury hotel, and it was worth the splurge (expensive meal!) to see the inside of the place. They even had live musicians in the dining room! Best of all was the Maharajah’s palace, a very extensive, lavishly gaudy set of buildings in the middle of a large, walled campus with temples, shops, and a large central square. As with many tourist sites in India, foreigners pay a hefty admission fee, but there are occasional benefits. I was glad I turned down the guide who asked if I wanted assistance when I got to the palace itself and discovered that audio tours were free for foreigners! It was similar to the device we used at Westminster Abbey last March—put on the headset, punch in the number for each stop on the tour, and the device tells you all about it … in a very stiff British accent (maybe the same fellow who narrated the Westminster Abbey audio tour!). Some of the rooms inside the palace are really spectacular, the wedding hall, for instance, and the 30-odd murals that line many walls depict the Dassara festival that takes place every September/October (I couldn’t go because I was giving that paper in Tiruchi). Sadly, no pictures were allowed inside the palace buildings, but I was able to take a lot of photos out on the palace grounds.
On Wednesday it was off to Srirangapatna to see the sites related to time of Haider Ali and his son Tipu Sultan, Muslim rulers who displaced the Mysore maharajahs for 20-odd years in the late 1700s, and who provided perhaps the only serious resistance to the British in that century. They won quite a few battles against the Brits, forcing big concessions from them until Tipu Sultan was defeated himself (and killed in battle). Their island fortress in the middle of the Kaveri River stands in ruins now with remnants of the walls standing along many river banks. Within the fort walls you can see the mosque they built, the old Hindu temple, the water gate where the British managed to sneak into the fort undetected, and a couple of old prisons. Outside the walls are the tomb Tipu Sultan built for his father and mother (and where he himself is buried) and a little shrine at the southwesternmost tip of the island where the river is reunited and flows on through Tamil-Nadu (and Thanjavur!) to the Bay of Bengal. Most interesting of all is Tipu Sultan’s summer palace, where painted murals depict several battles and their defeat of the British! One in particular shows the British completely surrounded by the Indians (and French!). The Brits have looks of fear in their eyes, the British commander is sitting in a palanquin biting his nails, and even the horses look fearful! After a reasonably priced buffet lunch at another nice hotel, the Metropole (where they were playing Shostakovich in the background—who’d a thunk!?!), I took in a little-known museum on the Mysore University campus. It’s a museum of folk art, the Jayalakshmi Vilas, and it has an incredibly extensive collection of things from all over Karnataka and beyond. Since it’s a university collection, however, there’s not a lot of funding to provide museum-quality displays. Some things are very well labeled and/or very well displayed—the leather shadow puppets that are mounted and backlit to reveal an incredible riot of colors and patterns, for instance—but most of the signage was in the Kannada language only, and in many rooms, display items were clustered together right out in the middle of the floor, and many unframed paintings were lined up along a wall and resting on the floor. In spite of that, this is one of the very best collections of folk art I’ve seen in south India. Good stuff. Too bad nobody seems to know about it; judging by the guest book, I was the first visitor in the last 5 or 6 days!
I also did some shopping and vowed to visit only the government-run shops, but I ran into trouble with a driver who wanted to take me to every place but the one I really wanted to see (especially since they get a cut if you buy from certain shops). There’s a government emporium called Cauvery Arts & Crafts, but he took me to a place called Kauvery. It seemed like it was in the wrong part of town, so I asked if this was Sayyaji Rao Rd. He said he thought it was, and the doorman at the shop was happy to lie and say it was. I saw a sign inside that said something about the government of Karnataka, so I stopped being so suspicious and looked around. I should have continued to be suspicious, since the service was waaay too attentive for a government shop. The driver then took me to a couple of other locations of the same shop around town (none of which were on Sayyaji Rao Rd.). I ended up with a souvenir and a couple of souvenirs Christmas gifts, but it wasn’t till the end of the second day that we crossed the real Sayyaji Rao Rd., and there in big letters was the sign for the real Cauvery Emporium! The driver sheepishly asked if I wanted to stop, but by then I had to get to the university museum or not see it at all. Oh, well … grrr! At least he managed to find me a really good bookstore with Indian classical CDs and DVDs!!
I checked into the Green Hotel, an eco-friendly place that has converted a former palace (albeit a small one!) into a very nice hotel. There are only half a dozen (rather expensive) rooms in the “palace” itself, but there are plenty more in the adjacent garden house, a large, modern concrete structure. Rooms were simpler than I expected, but comfortable enough. No A/C, but it’s cooler in Mysore (thankfully!) and I never needed it. Spent Tuesday seeing the sights in Mysore, including the Jaganmohan Palace art gallery, the Maharajah’s Palace, St. Philomena Church, and Chamundi Hill with its temple, views of the city, and huge nandi. I also decided to splurge and have lunch at another former palace, built by the Maharajahs for the viceroy. It’s now a luxury hotel, and it was worth the splurge (expensive meal!) to see the inside of the place. They even had live musicians in the dining room! Best of all was the Maharajah’s palace, a very extensive, lavishly gaudy set of buildings in the middle of a large, walled campus with temples, shops, and a large central square. As with many tourist sites in India, foreigners pay a hefty admission fee, but there are occasional benefits. I was glad I turned down the guide who asked if I wanted assistance when I got to the palace itself and discovered that audio tours were free for foreigners! It was similar to the device we used at Westminster Abbey last March—put on the headset, punch in the number for each stop on the tour, and the device tells you all about it … in a very stiff British accent (maybe the same fellow who narrated the Westminster Abbey audio tour!). Some of the rooms inside the palace are really spectacular, the wedding hall, for instance, and the 30-odd murals that line many walls depict the Dassara festival that takes place every September/October (I couldn’t go because I was giving that paper in Tiruchi). Sadly, no pictures were allowed inside the palace buildings, but I was able to take a lot of photos out on the palace grounds.
On Wednesday it was off to Srirangapatna to see the sites related to time of Haider Ali and his son Tipu Sultan, Muslim rulers who displaced the Mysore maharajahs for 20-odd years in the late 1700s, and who provided perhaps the only serious resistance to the British in that century. They won quite a few battles against the Brits, forcing big concessions from them until Tipu Sultan was defeated himself (and killed in battle). Their island fortress in the middle of the Kaveri River stands in ruins now with remnants of the walls standing along many river banks. Within the fort walls you can see the mosque they built, the old Hindu temple, the water gate where the British managed to sneak into the fort undetected, and a couple of old prisons. Outside the walls are the tomb Tipu Sultan built for his father and mother (and where he himself is buried) and a little shrine at the southwesternmost tip of the island where the river is reunited and flows on through Tamil-Nadu (and Thanjavur!) to the Bay of Bengal. Most interesting of all is Tipu Sultan’s summer palace, where painted murals depict several battles and their defeat of the British! One in particular shows the British completely surrounded by the Indians (and French!). The Brits have looks of fear in their eyes, the British commander is sitting in a palanquin biting his nails, and even the horses look fearful! After a reasonably priced buffet lunch at another nice hotel, the Metropole (where they were playing Shostakovich in the background—who’d a thunk!?!), I took in a little-known museum on the Mysore University campus. It’s a museum of folk art, the Jayalakshmi Vilas, and it has an incredibly extensive collection of things from all over Karnataka and beyond. Since it’s a university collection, however, there’s not a lot of funding to provide museum-quality displays. Some things are very well labeled and/or very well displayed—the leather shadow puppets that are mounted and backlit to reveal an incredible riot of colors and patterns, for instance—but most of the signage was in the Kannada language only, and in many rooms, display items were clustered together right out in the middle of the floor, and many unframed paintings were lined up along a wall and resting on the floor. In spite of that, this is one of the very best collections of folk art I’ve seen in south India. Good stuff. Too bad nobody seems to know about it; judging by the guest book, I was the first visitor in the last 5 or 6 days!
I also did some shopping and vowed to visit only the government-run shops, but I ran into trouble with a driver who wanted to take me to every place but the one I really wanted to see (especially since they get a cut if you buy from certain shops). There’s a government emporium called Cauvery Arts & Crafts, but he took me to a place called Kauvery. It seemed like it was in the wrong part of town, so I asked if this was Sayyaji Rao Rd. He said he thought it was, and the doorman at the shop was happy to lie and say it was. I saw a sign inside that said something about the government of Karnataka, so I stopped being so suspicious and looked around. I should have continued to be suspicious, since the service was waaay too attentive for a government shop. The driver then took me to a couple of other locations of the same shop around town (none of which were on Sayyaji Rao Rd.). I ended up with a souvenir and a couple of souvenirs Christmas gifts, but it wasn’t till the end of the second day that we crossed the real Sayyaji Rao Rd., and there in big letters was the sign for the real Cauvery Emporium! The driver sheepishly asked if I wanted to stop, but by then I had to get to the university museum or not see it at all. Oh, well … grrr! At least he managed to find me a really good bookstore with Indian classical CDs and DVDs!!
Outside lectures, Mahabalipuram, Pondicherry
Looks like the time between blog entries has been increasing. If I wait this long again before my next entry, I’ll be home again with nothing but cold weather and good times with family to report!
So I made some mention earlier of long empty spaces filling in. Well .,, things got sooooo busy I’ve hardly had time to think about a blog! The lecture at University of Madras went very well. There were so many questions from students (and from Dr. Premeela herself) that I only got halfway through my talk, but since it was on the history of jazz, it was not hard to find a good stopping point. And the visit at A.R. Rahman’s K.M. Music Conservatory also went well. We met Dr. Jyothi and the managing director, Dr. Srinivasan, an interesting and very able fellow who spends half of his time in the U.S. as director of Miami University’s (Ohio) world music program and doing artist-in-residence spots at University of North Texas and other schools. Before I knew it, I had an invitation to lecture at KM as well—on American minimalism! Rahman is looking to build up a base of trained musicians right here in Chennai, folks who know Western, Indian, and world musics with equal fluency, and Srini has done a great job of bulking up the curriculum to accomplish that. The place was really buzzing with activity, students practicing, etc., reminiscent of music schools back home! That lecture also went very well with lots of questions and interaction with students. I was lucky I even had a video clip to play! Srini didn’t tell me till afterwards that Philip Glass is a friend! Probably just as well—I would have worried about it otherwise. Sounds like Srini is willing to give a nice talk to our students in January with lots of video of his work with Rahman. Should be very good!
The next day it was off to Mahabalipuram and Pondicherry. I’ve been to Mahablipuram many times, so I assumed there wasn’t much new to see, but we ended up seeing 2 or 3 cave temples I had not visited previously, and it was a gloriously sunny day after so much monsoon rain. The only problem came when one of the group leaders, a woman, told one of the hawkers, a man, to buzz off. He took such offence that he followed us for 20+ minutes, shouting at the leader and even telling Suri he shouldn’t be guiding our group! Very awkward, and a shame Suri was not able to reach any of his friends on the local police force. Got to see the Shore Temple as the sun was going down. The light was quite lovely! Our hotel’s main virtue was its proximity to the Shore Temple, but the bed was very uncomfortable and the remote control did nothing to keep the A/C from making the room colder and colder and colder. I had to manually get up and turn the unit on or off when it got to hot or too cold! An early morning walk to the beach to watch the waves helped a bit!
Then it was off to Pondicherry. As a former French colony, it’s a “union territory,” and you need a special permit to enter. The drivers had not told Suri that they did not already possess the necessary permits, so we waited on the roadside outside Pondi while they drove off to purchase them. As a result we were late for our visit to the Sri Aurobindo Society’s beach facility, but they were able to accommodate our late schedule. After a brief talk about the society’s aims (with lots of leading questions for the students), we had a simple but nutritious lunch at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram, a large, fairly modern facility equipped to feed hundreds and hundreds of followers of Aurobindo and “the Mother.” If I was expecting something akin to the Beatles’ experience at Rishikesh, this was not it! After lunch we checked in at the beachfront hotel run by the Aurobindo Society, a clean, comfortable, and VERY inexpensive place to stay. Suri had a fourth floor room with no A/C but a spectacular view of the ocean. I was on the first floor with A/C and a view of the garden. Hmmm … who got the better deal? While the group went off and pursued their own afternoon agenda, Suri and Juby and I went off to see Pondi. Stopped at a very nice Fabindia, had afternoon tea at a nice little coffee shop, and then found a few more shops in the business district. After a rest at the guest house, Suri and I were going to find a nice French restaurant, but by the time we were ready to go, the rain was coming down in sheets from the direction of the ocean. We found just enough of a break to walk over to Le Club, only to find a gi-normous puddle covering half the street in front of the entrance. We debated wading through the puddle, but on noticing that the puddle was likely flowing down the steps into the restaurant entrance (a few steps below street level), we decided to hail a motor rickshaw and find another place nearby … as the rains whipped in with renewed energy. The place nearby was not French, but the food was good enough, and we were happy to be out of the rain.
Next morning one of Suri’s friends took me to Auroville, the utopian community founded by “the Mother” and her followers around 1970 or so. This fellow lives there, and he took me on a driving tour followed by a stop at the visitor’s center where we were also able to check out some shops and have a spot of tea. We ran into the Furman group again at the shops, and after meeting their Auroville host (a musician!), my guide took me back to Pondi to a place where we could get a nice French meal. There may be more authentic French places in Pondi, but this was “close enough for jazz,” and we had a nice time. Then it was back to MCC by car (the Furman group was staying an extra day) so I could catch an early morning train to Mysore. I repacked my bags, found a bit of mold on some leather items (the monsoon was not over yet!), got part of a night’s sleep, drove into the city, and boarded the Shatabdhi Express to Mysore.
So I made some mention earlier of long empty spaces filling in. Well .,, things got sooooo busy I’ve hardly had time to think about a blog! The lecture at University of Madras went very well. There were so many questions from students (and from Dr. Premeela herself) that I only got halfway through my talk, but since it was on the history of jazz, it was not hard to find a good stopping point. And the visit at A.R. Rahman’s K.M. Music Conservatory also went well. We met Dr. Jyothi and the managing director, Dr. Srinivasan, an interesting and very able fellow who spends half of his time in the U.S. as director of Miami University’s (Ohio) world music program and doing artist-in-residence spots at University of North Texas and other schools. Before I knew it, I had an invitation to lecture at KM as well—on American minimalism! Rahman is looking to build up a base of trained musicians right here in Chennai, folks who know Western, Indian, and world musics with equal fluency, and Srini has done a great job of bulking up the curriculum to accomplish that. The place was really buzzing with activity, students practicing, etc., reminiscent of music schools back home! That lecture also went very well with lots of questions and interaction with students. I was lucky I even had a video clip to play! Srini didn’t tell me till afterwards that Philip Glass is a friend! Probably just as well—I would have worried about it otherwise. Sounds like Srini is willing to give a nice talk to our students in January with lots of video of his work with Rahman. Should be very good!
The next day it was off to Mahabalipuram and Pondicherry. I’ve been to Mahablipuram many times, so I assumed there wasn’t much new to see, but we ended up seeing 2 or 3 cave temples I had not visited previously, and it was a gloriously sunny day after so much monsoon rain. The only problem came when one of the group leaders, a woman, told one of the hawkers, a man, to buzz off. He took such offence that he followed us for 20+ minutes, shouting at the leader and even telling Suri he shouldn’t be guiding our group! Very awkward, and a shame Suri was not able to reach any of his friends on the local police force. Got to see the Shore Temple as the sun was going down. The light was quite lovely! Our hotel’s main virtue was its proximity to the Shore Temple, but the bed was very uncomfortable and the remote control did nothing to keep the A/C from making the room colder and colder and colder. I had to manually get up and turn the unit on or off when it got to hot or too cold! An early morning walk to the beach to watch the waves helped a bit!
Then it was off to Pondicherry. As a former French colony, it’s a “union territory,” and you need a special permit to enter. The drivers had not told Suri that they did not already possess the necessary permits, so we waited on the roadside outside Pondi while they drove off to purchase them. As a result we were late for our visit to the Sri Aurobindo Society’s beach facility, but they were able to accommodate our late schedule. After a brief talk about the society’s aims (with lots of leading questions for the students), we had a simple but nutritious lunch at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram, a large, fairly modern facility equipped to feed hundreds and hundreds of followers of Aurobindo and “the Mother.” If I was expecting something akin to the Beatles’ experience at Rishikesh, this was not it! After lunch we checked in at the beachfront hotel run by the Aurobindo Society, a clean, comfortable, and VERY inexpensive place to stay. Suri had a fourth floor room with no A/C but a spectacular view of the ocean. I was on the first floor with A/C and a view of the garden. Hmmm … who got the better deal? While the group went off and pursued their own afternoon agenda, Suri and Juby and I went off to see Pondi. Stopped at a very nice Fabindia, had afternoon tea at a nice little coffee shop, and then found a few more shops in the business district. After a rest at the guest house, Suri and I were going to find a nice French restaurant, but by the time we were ready to go, the rain was coming down in sheets from the direction of the ocean. We found just enough of a break to walk over to Le Club, only to find a gi-normous puddle covering half the street in front of the entrance. We debated wading through the puddle, but on noticing that the puddle was likely flowing down the steps into the restaurant entrance (a few steps below street level), we decided to hail a motor rickshaw and find another place nearby … as the rains whipped in with renewed energy. The place nearby was not French, but the food was good enough, and we were happy to be out of the rain.
Next morning one of Suri’s friends took me to Auroville, the utopian community founded by “the Mother” and her followers around 1970 or so. This fellow lives there, and he took me on a driving tour followed by a stop at the visitor’s center where we were also able to check out some shops and have a spot of tea. We ran into the Furman group again at the shops, and after meeting their Auroville host (a musician!), my guide took me back to Pondi to a place where we could get a nice French meal. There may be more authentic French places in Pondi, but this was “close enough for jazz,” and we had a nice time. Then it was back to MCC by car (the Furman group was staying an extra day) so I could catch an early morning train to Mysore. I repacked my bags, found a bit of mold on some leather items (the monsoon was not over yet!), got part of a night’s sleep, drove into the city, and boarded the Shatabdhi Express to Mysore.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Which way to the internet?
For over two months I’ve been waiting for the monsoon rains and the cooler temperatures they would bring. I was eager to experience a monsoon here in India, much as Indians coming to the U.S. are eager to experience snow. I imagined that with cooler weather I could extend my daily walks and visit West Tambaram’s shopping district on more regular basis, or just plain spend more time outdoors again. Somewhere in the midst of these longings lurked a suspicion that the monsoon would not be as simple as all that, but the romance of the monsoon swept away any such doubts. Well … the monsoon is here. If there were any questions about it last week when we got two days of rain followed by a couple of days of sun, they have now been answered. It rains off and on during the daylight hours, sometimes a hard rain, sometimes a drizzle (with or without sunshine!), and sometimes a dry spell (again with or without sunshine!). During the night the rain is continuous, and strong enough that I can hear the patter outside even with the A/C running. Indians often describe the temperatures here as hot, hotter, and hottest; for the past week it’s been rainy, rainier, and rainiest!
Has the monsoon lived up to my expectations? Yes and no. Though delayed by a week or two, it seems to be a good strong monsoon so far. Some of the local reservoirs are filling up again, and the local fauna is certainly reviving. This is the water this region will need for a whole year, so they need a lot of it. It’s certainly fascinating to watch the effects of the rains—how the campus animals respond, some of the new insects that have appeared, and the frequent disruptions to traffic due to “waterlogging,” the deep puddles that cover most of a street when drains are clogged or it’s just plain raining faster than the drains can carry it away. But I suspect the fascination may wear off long before the rains stop. If I was a prisoner to the heat in my first two months, now I am a prisoner to the rain. I can certainly get out and around in the breaks between rains, but I really don’t want to get caught in the midst of a drenching rain, where even the umbrella provides little protection when the wind whips the rain in every direction. That might have felt good when it was 95+ outside, but with daytime temperatures now running in the low to mid 80s, that doesn’t sound so appealing. Curiously, this feels quite cool, and I am sometimes tempted to put on another layer. Back in the U.S., temps in the mid-80s would be feeling a bit hot to me, but I realize I have gradually been adjusting to India’s heat. I’ve noticed that I’ve been notching the A/C up a degree every few weeks or so. But where I welcomed the cool breeze that accompanied the occasional strong storm in September or October, now it almost feels too cool (though not nearly so cool as Ooty!!).
Then there’s the humidity. It’s actually cool enough that I wouldn’t need to run the A/C regularly, but I leave it on anyway to take some of the humidity out of the air. Between the rain and the humidity, laundry has also become a problem. The dhobi can wash the clothes no problem, but finding a dry spell long enough to dry them out is a real problem, and for the last couple of days things never seem to dry out completely. The bath towel that was always dry the next morning is now damp, so I’m alternating towels and turning on the ceiling fan to help dry them and my hand wash items faster. (I hope the dhobi can do some of my laundry today again!) And then there’s the internet. With the few rainstorms we had earlier this fall (is it still fall? it’s certainly not winter here!), I noticed that internet service was often disrupted. With the monsoons, amplify that disruption by tenfold at the very least. Day before last it went out mid-afternoon and stayed out for the rest of the day. Yesterday I had internet for 20 minutes late in the afternoon, and it hasn’t been back on since (though there may also be some problem with the wireless router compounding the service interruptions!). I have come to rely on the internet here, whether for lecture preparation or to check the news back home or to look something up or whatever. When it’s not working, I quickly run out of things to do here! You can only read the newspaper or do puzzles for so long. So when one of the visiting scholars (from St. Olaf!) called yesterday to ask if I was busy, I told her the internet was down and I was a bit stir-crazy—come on over!
On the other hand, when the internet works, it allows many good things to happen. One of the highlights this week was my second grandchild’s third birthday. I had to get up early in the morning to Skype her, but the connection was working fine that day. I got to help them sing happy birthday and watch Kele-De blow out the candles on her cake. Not quite the same as being there, but pretty darn good! It’s not everyday you get to attend a birthday party from halfway around the world!! Kele-De’s older sister, Skiaya (now all of four years old!), is getting the hang of the daytime here/nighttime there thing, but I didn’t even try to explain that I was calling them the morning after Kele-De’s birthday! Gives a whole new meaning to belated birthday greetings!
I may yet reach some kind of personal truce with the monsoon, but I’m starting to feel somewhat frustrated and hampered by the limits it places on me. Long walks to West Tambaram may yet happen ... once the monsoon rains finish up ... whenever that will be! But it looks like it’s not going to slow things down too much. After Virginia left, I was starting to wonder what I would do with myself in an empty guest house with three weeks of break between MCC’s two semesters (they’re taking exams this week, on days when the exams don’t get postponed due to the heavy rains!). Well … I’m not wondering anymore. I finally scheduled my travel to Mysore and Bangalore, the most important cities in the southern state of Karnataka. That will eat up the final week of my break. Then my long-lost friend Kingsley showed up on Sunday and invited me to come to the University of Madras for a visit to the Music Department. Arrangements were made, and Mathivanan took me there Wednesday on the way to a concert. I got to meet the department chair, Dr. Premeela, a lovely person, and she brought me in to meet briefly with the students of her department. I talked a bit about Elmhurst College and we had tea back in Premeela’s office. She wants me to come down this Monday to give a lecture on American music, with emphasis on jazz, and there is also talk of a dance performance on Wednesday, a possible Saturday workshop for her students, her upcoming concert (she is a vocalist), and a scholarly conference at the tail end of December. I even got to meet Sowmya, who is now working on a doctorate at Madras University. I heard her sing in the U.S., and in 2007 we saw one of her concerts and took our students for a group voice lesson and tour at the Carnatica Foundation she helps to run. Unless I hear otherwise, the lecture is all arranged. It will fit perfectly into the trip Mathivan and I were already planning for Monday to visit A.R. Rahman’s school and studio. So we’ll start with the lecture, visit Rahman’s place, and then go hear an evening concert by Aruna Sairam. We’ve been trying to set up a visit to the university for some time, but it can be difficult to engineer such things from way out in the suburbs. I’m glad it’s finally happening; it’s always good to make contact with musicians in Chennai!
Two more pieces to help fill in the schedule—Sunday night, I’ll join some choir people, including Suri, Vimal, Juby, and Anand, along with Mike and Anne from St. Olaf, and we’ll go hear Handel’s oratorio, Israel in Egypt. I met the director when I visited Emmanuel Methodist Church a month or so ago, and they’ll be doing it with orchestra, a real rarity here in Chennai. I’ll be fascinated to hear what they do with it! Strange to think of this kind of performance here in India, but if it’s anything like the choral performances I hear at Emmanuel, this should be a very good performance. Can’t wait! And Suri had a brilliant idea. For two month, he’s been planning to take me down to Pondicherry some weekend, but things have been busy for all of us. Finally he says, Why don’t you come down with the Furman group next weekend? We checked it out with Claude and Veena, so it’s all set. I’ll ride down with them, spend a night in Mahabalipuram, spend the next night in Pondicherry, and then return by car on Sunday (earlier than the group) since I have to leave for Mysore very early Monday morning. Should be good!
So I thought I’d have long, dull stretches with the occasional trip into the city to break the monotony. Now it looks like I’ll be so busy for the next few weeks that I’ll be looking for breaks to catch some rest! I think I worried for naught. And once I get back to town, there will be 2nd semester lectures to give, December Season concerts to attend … and I guess I’ll even need to think about packing for the trip home. Yikes!
Has the monsoon lived up to my expectations? Yes and no. Though delayed by a week or two, it seems to be a good strong monsoon so far. Some of the local reservoirs are filling up again, and the local fauna is certainly reviving. This is the water this region will need for a whole year, so they need a lot of it. It’s certainly fascinating to watch the effects of the rains—how the campus animals respond, some of the new insects that have appeared, and the frequent disruptions to traffic due to “waterlogging,” the deep puddles that cover most of a street when drains are clogged or it’s just plain raining faster than the drains can carry it away. But I suspect the fascination may wear off long before the rains stop. If I was a prisoner to the heat in my first two months, now I am a prisoner to the rain. I can certainly get out and around in the breaks between rains, but I really don’t want to get caught in the midst of a drenching rain, where even the umbrella provides little protection when the wind whips the rain in every direction. That might have felt good when it was 95+ outside, but with daytime temperatures now running in the low to mid 80s, that doesn’t sound so appealing. Curiously, this feels quite cool, and I am sometimes tempted to put on another layer. Back in the U.S., temps in the mid-80s would be feeling a bit hot to me, but I realize I have gradually been adjusting to India’s heat. I’ve noticed that I’ve been notching the A/C up a degree every few weeks or so. But where I welcomed the cool breeze that accompanied the occasional strong storm in September or October, now it almost feels too cool (though not nearly so cool as Ooty!!).
Then there’s the humidity. It’s actually cool enough that I wouldn’t need to run the A/C regularly, but I leave it on anyway to take some of the humidity out of the air. Between the rain and the humidity, laundry has also become a problem. The dhobi can wash the clothes no problem, but finding a dry spell long enough to dry them out is a real problem, and for the last couple of days things never seem to dry out completely. The bath towel that was always dry the next morning is now damp, so I’m alternating towels and turning on the ceiling fan to help dry them and my hand wash items faster. (I hope the dhobi can do some of my laundry today again!) And then there’s the internet. With the few rainstorms we had earlier this fall (is it still fall? it’s certainly not winter here!), I noticed that internet service was often disrupted. With the monsoons, amplify that disruption by tenfold at the very least. Day before last it went out mid-afternoon and stayed out for the rest of the day. Yesterday I had internet for 20 minutes late in the afternoon, and it hasn’t been back on since (though there may also be some problem with the wireless router compounding the service interruptions!). I have come to rely on the internet here, whether for lecture preparation or to check the news back home or to look something up or whatever. When it’s not working, I quickly run out of things to do here! You can only read the newspaper or do puzzles for so long. So when one of the visiting scholars (from St. Olaf!) called yesterday to ask if I was busy, I told her the internet was down and I was a bit stir-crazy—come on over!
On the other hand, when the internet works, it allows many good things to happen. One of the highlights this week was my second grandchild’s third birthday. I had to get up early in the morning to Skype her, but the connection was working fine that day. I got to help them sing happy birthday and watch Kele-De blow out the candles on her cake. Not quite the same as being there, but pretty darn good! It’s not everyday you get to attend a birthday party from halfway around the world!! Kele-De’s older sister, Skiaya (now all of four years old!), is getting the hang of the daytime here/nighttime there thing, but I didn’t even try to explain that I was calling them the morning after Kele-De’s birthday! Gives a whole new meaning to belated birthday greetings!
I may yet reach some kind of personal truce with the monsoon, but I’m starting to feel somewhat frustrated and hampered by the limits it places on me. Long walks to West Tambaram may yet happen ... once the monsoon rains finish up ... whenever that will be! But it looks like it’s not going to slow things down too much. After Virginia left, I was starting to wonder what I would do with myself in an empty guest house with three weeks of break between MCC’s two semesters (they’re taking exams this week, on days when the exams don’t get postponed due to the heavy rains!). Well … I’m not wondering anymore. I finally scheduled my travel to Mysore and Bangalore, the most important cities in the southern state of Karnataka. That will eat up the final week of my break. Then my long-lost friend Kingsley showed up on Sunday and invited me to come to the University of Madras for a visit to the Music Department. Arrangements were made, and Mathivanan took me there Wednesday on the way to a concert. I got to meet the department chair, Dr. Premeela, a lovely person, and she brought me in to meet briefly with the students of her department. I talked a bit about Elmhurst College and we had tea back in Premeela’s office. She wants me to come down this Monday to give a lecture on American music, with emphasis on jazz, and there is also talk of a dance performance on Wednesday, a possible Saturday workshop for her students, her upcoming concert (she is a vocalist), and a scholarly conference at the tail end of December. I even got to meet Sowmya, who is now working on a doctorate at Madras University. I heard her sing in the U.S., and in 2007 we saw one of her concerts and took our students for a group voice lesson and tour at the Carnatica Foundation she helps to run. Unless I hear otherwise, the lecture is all arranged. It will fit perfectly into the trip Mathivan and I were already planning for Monday to visit A.R. Rahman’s school and studio. So we’ll start with the lecture, visit Rahman’s place, and then go hear an evening concert by Aruna Sairam. We’ve been trying to set up a visit to the university for some time, but it can be difficult to engineer such things from way out in the suburbs. I’m glad it’s finally happening; it’s always good to make contact with musicians in Chennai!
Two more pieces to help fill in the schedule—Sunday night, I’ll join some choir people, including Suri, Vimal, Juby, and Anand, along with Mike and Anne from St. Olaf, and we’ll go hear Handel’s oratorio, Israel in Egypt. I met the director when I visited Emmanuel Methodist Church a month or so ago, and they’ll be doing it with orchestra, a real rarity here in Chennai. I’ll be fascinated to hear what they do with it! Strange to think of this kind of performance here in India, but if it’s anything like the choral performances I hear at Emmanuel, this should be a very good performance. Can’t wait! And Suri had a brilliant idea. For two month, he’s been planning to take me down to Pondicherry some weekend, but things have been busy for all of us. Finally he says, Why don’t you come down with the Furman group next weekend? We checked it out with Claude and Veena, so it’s all set. I’ll ride down with them, spend a night in Mahabalipuram, spend the next night in Pondicherry, and then return by car on Sunday (earlier than the group) since I have to leave for Mysore very early Monday morning. Should be good!
So I thought I’d have long, dull stretches with the occasional trip into the city to break the monotony. Now it looks like I’ll be so busy for the next few weeks that I’ll be looking for breaks to catch some rest! I think I worried for naught. And once I get back to town, there will be 2nd semester lectures to give, December Season concerts to attend … and I guess I’ll even need to think about packing for the trip home. Yikes!
Company!!
To say that life at the guest house has changed completely would be a huge understatement. The group from Furman University (South Carolina) arrived last Sunday morning, and the guest house is now full—of people, activity, and a kind of constant hum. There are two Furman faculty members here with a group of sixteen students, exactly the same sized group Lynn and I will bring in January. I can’t help but think ahead to the experience we will have, and it’s good to see that this size group fits very nicely into the guest house with room to spare. Somehow they’ve managed to get all sixteen into the upstairs apartments, but since we’ll have more men (six, they have only one!), I think we’ll want to put some of our group in the double-room suite on the ground floor. Either way, this will be a big improvement over the group of 23 students we brought in 2007. With 16, there’s room for everybody to stay in the guest house, and there’s room for everybody to eat in the dining room. It’s also much easier for everybody to get to know each other!
What a transformation! I have occasionally grumbled about feelings of loneliness here at the guest house, especially at meal times, but I have plenty of company at meal times and ample opportunity for conversations on the porch or in the dining room at odd hours of day or evening. These are really nice people, and it’s been especially good to get to know the group leaders, Claude and Veena. But wait, it gets better! Nowadays, whenever there’s a group here, they bring in a chef and a couple of assistants from one of the local hotels (Taj Connemara, I believe). The food from the canteen has been quite good, on the whole, far better than many college cafeteria meals I’ve had back in the states. But the cooks for the Furman group are really wonderful. The flavors, the preparation, and the variety of dishes at every meal are great. I am going to get fat if I don’t watch out! And since the same team will be here in January, our students are in for a treat! Nice to have such a pleasant surprise.
The other night I was sitting on the porch reading my newspaper when a pair of Americans walked in to chat with the Furman faculty and some students. Part way into the conversation I began to hear frequent references to St. Olaf. Finally my curiosity got the better of me and I said, Did I hear you say St. Olaf? I’m an Ole! Well, first Mike and then Anne came over to introduce themselves and chat a bit. They are both professors in the Biology department at St. Olaf, and they are here as Fulbright scholars to teach at MCC for the second semester and to travel, make contacts with Indian scientists, and so on—similar to what I’ve been doing. They went back to the Furman group, so after a short while I pulled up a chair to join the conversation, and we had a lovely time. Talk about a “small world.” As I thought back on it, I realize that somebody some time back had mentioned a visit by St. Olaf faculty, but there was no context, and at that point it was a ways off. Now that they’re here, it will be really nice to have such tangible contact with an important part of my life back home. They also know Dr. Gabriel, since he was a visiting Kierkegaard Scholar at St. Olaf just three years ago, so we’ve got a regular St. Olaf club being established here at MCC. What fun! We’re heading into Chennai Sunday evening for a concert (Handel’s Israel in Egypt … with an orchestra!), and it looks like we’ll even have a Thanksgiving dinner together, something I didn’t think I’d be able to celebrate here! Juby commented the other day that it was good to see me looking so happy. I guess it’s good to have people around; I’m more of a social being than I give myself credit for. I think I’m going to like the next few weeks very much … very much indeed!
What a transformation! I have occasionally grumbled about feelings of loneliness here at the guest house, especially at meal times, but I have plenty of company at meal times and ample opportunity for conversations on the porch or in the dining room at odd hours of day or evening. These are really nice people, and it’s been especially good to get to know the group leaders, Claude and Veena. But wait, it gets better! Nowadays, whenever there’s a group here, they bring in a chef and a couple of assistants from one of the local hotels (Taj Connemara, I believe). The food from the canteen has been quite good, on the whole, far better than many college cafeteria meals I’ve had back in the states. But the cooks for the Furman group are really wonderful. The flavors, the preparation, and the variety of dishes at every meal are great. I am going to get fat if I don’t watch out! And since the same team will be here in January, our students are in for a treat! Nice to have such a pleasant surprise.
The other night I was sitting on the porch reading my newspaper when a pair of Americans walked in to chat with the Furman faculty and some students. Part way into the conversation I began to hear frequent references to St. Olaf. Finally my curiosity got the better of me and I said, Did I hear you say St. Olaf? I’m an Ole! Well, first Mike and then Anne came over to introduce themselves and chat a bit. They are both professors in the Biology department at St. Olaf, and they are here as Fulbright scholars to teach at MCC for the second semester and to travel, make contacts with Indian scientists, and so on—similar to what I’ve been doing. They went back to the Furman group, so after a short while I pulled up a chair to join the conversation, and we had a lovely time. Talk about a “small world.” As I thought back on it, I realize that somebody some time back had mentioned a visit by St. Olaf faculty, but there was no context, and at that point it was a ways off. Now that they’re here, it will be really nice to have such tangible contact with an important part of my life back home. They also know Dr. Gabriel, since he was a visiting Kierkegaard Scholar at St. Olaf just three years ago, so we’ve got a regular St. Olaf club being established here at MCC. What fun! We’re heading into Chennai Sunday evening for a concert (Handel’s Israel in Egypt … with an orchestra!), and it looks like we’ll even have a Thanksgiving dinner together, something I didn’t think I’d be able to celebrate here! Juby commented the other day that it was good to see me looking so happy. I guess it’s good to have people around; I’m more of a social being than I give myself credit for. I think I’m going to like the next few weeks very much … very much indeed!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Virginia's Visit
I haven’t blogged for two weeks now, but I have a really good excuse. Virginia’s been here since late on the 14th of October … forgive me, but I haven’t given the rest of you much thought! She left last night for Copenhagen (boo!), and I’ve got lots of time on my hands again, so here’s the news, and lots of it. To paraphrase a Virginia-ism, after her, you come first!
We had a wonderful two weeks. Virginia had a touch of flu two weeks before she arrived here, so between that and jet lag, she was still a bit under the weather with a sore throat. But with lots of room for rest around the edges, we managed to do quite a bit. During the first few days we stayed close to the MCC campus. Had a lovely lunch with Joseph, a trip with my favorite rasika Mathivanan into Madras for khadi (and a mandatory stop for lunch at Murugan’s Idli Shop—yum!), a wonderful evening and dinner with Suri and friends, daily walks around the campus, and a good visit and lunch with Gabriel and family. All of this happened as preparations were underway for Diwali, the Festival of Lights. It’s a bit like Christmas and Fourth of July rolled into one—Christmas for the lights and the exchange of gifts (usually sweets!), and Fourth of July for the “crackers.” My goodness, they love their firecrackers here! Starting the day before, there was a steady crescendo of bangs and pops, and by the time we reached Diwali Eve, there was so much noise from all directions that it sounded like a war zone! This continued through the night and all of the next day. When the car came after dinner on Diwali to take us to our overnight train, we got to see what we had been hearing for the past 36 hours—people were all over the streets, especially the narrow lanes, lighting all kinds of firecrackers. Our driver had to dodge people and explosions as we took a short-cut through the neighborhoods. Once we got to the main street into the city, we got to see fireworks as well. Wow! Lest you think I am exaggerating, as we were eating breakfast middle of the next week in Cochin, we heard bangs and pops in the distance. Virginia asked Rayson, our travel companion, if people were still celebrating Diwali. He said, no, that was the sound of military exercises being conducted at the naval base nearby!
So with Rayson Alex along for the ride we boarded the Allepey Express on Saturday night and took it all the way to … Allepey! Rayson did a wonderful job of making arrangements for our time in Kerala (and Ooty), and he was along as a companion and guide to make sure we got where we needed to go, but we especially enjoyed getting to know him better in several long conversations. He finished his doctoral thesis about eight months, but here in India there is an interminable wait for an outside reader (usually in England!?) to approve (or reject) it. Rayson has already been waiting 8 months, but 6 months to a year is pretty standard. Yikes!
Allepey is right in the heart of the backwaters region of the south Indian state Kerala, a place locals like to call God’s Own Country! Since I grew up in God’s Country (LaCrosse, Wisconsin), I had to see for myself. It’s nothing like LaCrosse, of course (surprise, surprise!), but it is a lush, tropical paradise. The Western Ghats, a mountain range that borders the eastern edge of the state, catch all of the moisture coming off of the Arabian Sea, and the frequent rains keep it green and beautiful. The town of Allepey is situated between the seacoast and the backwaters, a huge web of canals and lakes that span a distance of 75 km. from Cochin in the north to Kollam in the south. One of the big attractions for tourists is a backwaters cruise on a kettu vallam, an old commercial barge converted into a houseboat with thatched walls and roof and a covered deck from which you can watch the scenery on all sides.
Our train arrived mid-morning in Allepey, and we went straight to our boat for a two-night cruise! (This was our splurge!) Virginia and I were surprised to discover that Rayson would be spending time with friends during our cruise, but we were delighted at the prospect of some private time after two months apart! After leaving the dock, we putted out into the large lake just north of Allepey. Lovely enough, but we were far from shore, and there wasn’t much to see but water, distant palm trees, and the occasional water bird or flower. I started to think that two days of this might get tedious, but as we entered narrower and narrower canals and gradually became attuned to the rhythm and variety of life in the backwaters, it became a fascinating voyage of discovery. On many canals there is only a thin strip of land between the canal and a large field of rice paddies. Residents build their houses right on these narrow strips; some homes are simple thatched huts, some much more luxurious. Either way, there’s no place to hide from the boats on the canal, and as we cruised up and down the waterways, we got to see people as they lived their lives, did their chores, and carried on with their daily work. Our daily routine was simple: cruise for awhile, then dock in a shady spot for lunch and maybe a nap (lots of naps—A/C could only be used overnight, and the temperatures weren’t that much cooler than in Chennai!), cruise some more, then dock for dinner and the night (sunset at around 6 p.m. down here). Our first night we docked on one of those thin strips next to the home of the sister of one of our three boatmen. After a wonderful fish curry dinner we watched a movie they got just for us! It was The Last Samurai, and we’ve seen it before, but we really enjoy it, but there was some problem with the audio track, so we watched it with English subtitles! Halfway through it was time to close up the boat and go to bed, so we retreated to our A/C cabin and slept very soundly with the gentle rocking of the boat.
We woke to find a chicken scratching the earth to dig up breakfast for its brood of chicks. We watched a fisherman extracting his catch from the net, and we were even invited into the sister’s home for a brief visit! She had pictures of the wedding of one of her children, but even more prominent was the photo of her one-year-old grandchild! On the second day our cruise took us past several towns and villages and some much more upscale neighborhoods. We saw schools and churches (not many temples … that or we didn’t know what to look for here in Kerala—temple architecture is distinctively different here), pedestrian bridges and a highway bridge, boats of all kinds, high-end and simple resorts, and even the lake where the famous snake-boat races take place every August. Unbeknownst to us, we spent the second night docked back in Allepey where we had first boarded the boat, but we enjoyed getting out and walking along the canal looking at the businesses that lined the walk. We finally got to watch the end of the movie and enjoy another good dinner (food was very good on the boat—except for the first days breakfast of toast and jam only!?). The final morning we took a spin out into the big lake for breakfast, and then back to meet Rayson at the dock. Overall, it was a lovely, relaxing time with lots to look at and enjoy, whether it was the people, the wildlife, the water, or the vegetation. Very peaceful, very serene—just what we needed.
We climbed into the car with Rayson, and the driver took us north to Cochin, one of the old Keralan cities with many evidences of the Portuguese and Dutch who were there. We visited several of the standard tourist spots—the Mattancherry Palace with its elaborate frescoes, the oldest synagogue in India, the Chinese fishing nets, and St. Francis Church, the oldest English church in India. Then we checked in at the Green Woods Bethlehem Homestay, very lovely place surrounded by tall trees and all kinds of flowering plants. We had a very comfortable A/C room, hosts Ashley and Sheeba were very friendly and helpful, and the covered rooftop dining area provided lovely views of the trees that shaded us even two stories up. Then it was off to a long lunch at a place Joseph recommended highly, the Grand Hotel in Ernakulam (the modern city attached to Cochin). Joseph said we had to try the karimeen (a local fish) in moilee sauce … was that ever good! The sauce was mild and somewhat sweet, thanks to the coconut milk (virtually every Keralan dish has some part of the coconut in it!), and we ate every last bite. After a little shopping it was time to go see a program of Kathakali and dances at the Greenix Cultural Center. It was a sampler geared towards tourists that included different south Indian dance genres, including bharatanatyam, mohiniyattam, and theyyam, though we were especially interested in the scene from a kathakali dance-drama. Too bad we couldn’t stay in town long enough to see a longer kathakali performance, but this was a nice introduction. Next time!
Next day, after a lazy morning at Bethlehem, we headed out for lunch at the Fort House, an older, traditional hotel with a restaurant right on the water, shaded by a cluster of huge palm trees. It was a lovely place to sit and watch boats of all sizes (including ocean freighters) go by. To the right you could look towards Ernakulam, to the left the outlet to the sea, and on the far shore you could even see another set of Chinese fishing nets at work. After short visits to the Jain Temple (not open after 12:30!) and the Syrian Orthodox Church (Syriac Christians were the first to come to India, probably within the first century after Christ), we took a rest back at Bethlehem. Rayson left early to catch a bus so he could spend time with his friends at the NGO where he once worked, and after we checked out we took the car to the beach to watch the sunset over the sea. Sadly it was very cloudy to the west, so we didn’t see much color, but it was still nice to watch the ocean waves coming in! Then it was back to the Grand Hotel for dinner, a good choice not only for the food but for its proximity to the train station. A four-hour train ride got us to Coimbatore by about 1:00 a.m., where we had to wait another four hours on the platform. Some larger train stations have retiring rooms or at least A/C lounges where you can rest while you wait, but that’s not Coimbatore! We decided the train platform was comfortable enough, especially in the middle of the night, and it worked fine except for swatting the mosquitoes, especially when a young French traveler sat with us to wait for the same train. A one-hour train ride took us to Mettupalayam, and after a one-hour wait we boarded the “toy train” to Ooty (Udagamandalam … but who has time to say that?), a narrow-gauge cog railway that still uses steam locomotives as it climbs some pretty steep grades up into the mountains. One book called the ride bone-rattling, but I did not find it so. Now it did jolt and lurch its uncomfortable way up those steep grades, managing only 46 km. in a nearly five-hour-long trip, but if it’s bone-rattling you want, take the American Eagle, the old-style wooden roller coaster at Six Flags/Great America. Still, the views were fantastic, and with frequent service stops to let the old steam engine cool a bit and keep it in good operating condition, there was lots of time to look down into the canyon or up at the peaks, grab a snack, or snap pictures of the trees, flowers, tea plantations, monkeys, and mountain peaks. Virginia had a great time watching the Indian families in our compartment, seeing how Indian parents interact with their children.
We arrived in Ooty shortly after noon. Due to its elevation (about 7,500 feet above sea level), this was the place the British escaped to from Chennai during the hottest months of the year (much as they did from Delhi to Shimla in the north), and it still has some vestiges of British heritage. Just like Shimla, they build houses and neighborhoods right up the sides of the mountains, but Ooty is smaller, quieter, and somewhat slower-paced. We took a motor rickshaw up the mountain to our lodgings at King’s Cliff, former home of one of the British nobility with lovely views of the town below and the mountains around it. The building is quaint, and the grounds are immaculately maintained (how do they get that lawn so short and even?), with lots of flowers, shrubs, and trees. After lunch and a nap (more naps!), we took a little walk around the neighborhood and came back to sit in the parlor in front of the fireplace, read the newspaper, and finally get some dinner in their excellent restaurant. Virginia, who is trying to avoid carbs and sugar, had a bit of a run-in with the maitre d’ when he insisted more than once that she order rice or bread with her dinner (she has trouble in general with the frequent over-attentiveness of Indian shop keepers who mistake curiosity for a desire to buy something). There were some ruffled feelings on both sides, but the food was really good. Our room also had a fireplace, which made it a lovely place to retreat to, settle in, and warm up a bit … especially good in a building with no heating! Oh, did I mention that Ooty is delightfully cool due to its altitude? Average temperatures in October range from highs of 65 to 68 to lows of 45 to 50. Given that Chennai has been running at least 25 degrees hotter than that, this was a delightful and much-welcomed change!! I must say, though, that the nights really were on the chilly side. It got down to 58 degrees in our room overnight, and I was glad for the warm blankets and comforter … and my life companion in the bed beside me!
After a lazy morning (and another nap!), we headed into town. Got a few supplies at Charing Cross (very familiar sound to that!?) and had a wonderful veg lunch at the Hotel Nahar. Then we went for a good long walk. Up to the British church first, St. Stephens, then past the old British bank building in the most British looking part of town, then down a long stairway into the bazaar and municipal market, and finally past the train station to the Boat House on a lovely lake. Lots of Indians were there taking rides in motor boats or row boats or paddle boats or kiddie boats (one half of the lake reserved for non-motorized craft). Again, it was nice just to sit and watch the families, enjoy the water, and rest after a long walk. After another motor rickshaw ride up to King’s Cliff, we sat again in the parlor, visited with some other American guests (taking a short holiday from their yoga school in Mysore), and had another lovely dinner. Another fire in the room preceded another gloriously chilly night.
On the second Ooty morning, Virginia had wangled some cushions so she could sit on a chair out on the lawn and watch the dawn. After breakfast and another lazy morning, it was time to check out and make our way back to the train. On the way we stopped for an hour at the Botanical Garden, a lovely place that extends way up the mountain-side. We probably only went half-way up, but there was much to enjoy on a Saturday morning—the flowers, the topiary, the greenhouses, the elaborate displays (one shaped like India itself) … and the families! Then off for lunch at Fernhills Palace, former summer home of the Maharajah of Mysore and now a heritage hotel. Sitting atop a mountain on the other side of Ooty, it also afforded some wonderful views. The building itself is gaudily decorated in a style that owes a lot to the British, and the dining room offered nice views of the gardens in back. Then it was back to the train station for the ride back down the mountains and into the plains. The ride was much smoother and more comfortable on the way back town, taking only 3 and a half hours (partly because we didn’t need to stop so frequently). This time we had seats on the valley side of the train, making it possible to get some of the photos we missed out on coming up! For the final 10 km., the train was really racing along on the flat lands, so much so that our train car in the rear caught up with the engine’s smoke and ash before it could dissipate. In the fading light we could even see the sparks flying down the tracks behind us! Another hour’s wait at Mettupalayam and we boarded the Nilagiri (Blue Mountain) Express train to Chennai Central Station.
It was our third overnight train ride, but this one was going home. We arrived at 5:00 a.m. Sunday morning and our car showed up at 5:30. By 6:15 we were back in our room at the MCC guest house, grabbing some more sleep before the day began. After breakfast I spent some time with the college choir talking music history, and then it was off to the Principal’s Residence for a very nice home-cooked lunch with Alex and his wife. After another nap and a quiet dinner at the guest house, we took a long walk around the campus. Monday was another quiet day. We went over to the staff room to see who was there for tea. There was no tea (it’s reading week before final exams), but Nirmal was there with a doctoral student, so we had a lovely long chat that could have gone longer had lunch-time not intervened. It was a good chance for Virginia to catch up with Nirmal after his stay at our home last spring. After lunch it was time to pack and nap (again!), walk over so Virginia could meet Gabriel’s daughter, and then head to West Tambaram with Gabriel to visit the tailor. The khadi fabric we bought before our trip west was now soaked and washed (to get the shrinking done before the tailoring!), and we left instructions for shirts and slacks for Virginia and for two new kurtas for me. I’ll have to carry them all home myself in December, but they should make a nice birthday present for Virginia!
Sadly, we had to drop Virginia at the airport last night (Monday). It was an absolutely lovely couple of weeks that confirmed just how much I left behind to come to India for these four months. We are past the midway point now. Virginia arrived after 8 weeks apart, and two weeks later we are passing the 10th week. With 7 more weeks to go, it all sounds manageable, but now my room, the guest house, and the MCC campus are filled with wonderful memories of Virginia as well. It remains to be seen whether that will make these last (less than) two months easier or harder! Right now I’m very tender.
Virginia hoped to see some rain while she was here, but we saw none at all. Rayson said there had been a shower overnight in Cochin, but it wasn’t much of one. Everyone here in Chennai has been longing for the cooling effect of the monsoon, not the early summer southwest monsoon you always hear about, but the northeast, autumn monsoon that the eastern seaboard relies on for most of its water. With unusually hot temperatures well into October, everyone is especially eager to see the rain. I worried that heavy rains might keep Virginia from flying out on time (though more time with her would not have been a terrible thing!). Well, there was no rain last night to impede Virginia’s departure. After she left I heard thunder in the middle of the night, but no rain here. But today … when I came out for lunch I saw that the sky was unusually dark, and two minutes later, down came the rains, with lots of thunder to boot! It cleared out after about an hour, a mild start to the monsoon, perhaps, but a portent of things to come, with lots more rain in this week’s forecast. The plants need it, the people need it, and we all long for the cooling the rains will bring! And some of us also long for a December trip back home!!
We had a wonderful two weeks. Virginia had a touch of flu two weeks before she arrived here, so between that and jet lag, she was still a bit under the weather with a sore throat. But with lots of room for rest around the edges, we managed to do quite a bit. During the first few days we stayed close to the MCC campus. Had a lovely lunch with Joseph, a trip with my favorite rasika Mathivanan into Madras for khadi (and a mandatory stop for lunch at Murugan’s Idli Shop—yum!), a wonderful evening and dinner with Suri and friends, daily walks around the campus, and a good visit and lunch with Gabriel and family. All of this happened as preparations were underway for Diwali, the Festival of Lights. It’s a bit like Christmas and Fourth of July rolled into one—Christmas for the lights and the exchange of gifts (usually sweets!), and Fourth of July for the “crackers.” My goodness, they love their firecrackers here! Starting the day before, there was a steady crescendo of bangs and pops, and by the time we reached Diwali Eve, there was so much noise from all directions that it sounded like a war zone! This continued through the night and all of the next day. When the car came after dinner on Diwali to take us to our overnight train, we got to see what we had been hearing for the past 36 hours—people were all over the streets, especially the narrow lanes, lighting all kinds of firecrackers. Our driver had to dodge people and explosions as we took a short-cut through the neighborhoods. Once we got to the main street into the city, we got to see fireworks as well. Wow! Lest you think I am exaggerating, as we were eating breakfast middle of the next week in Cochin, we heard bangs and pops in the distance. Virginia asked Rayson, our travel companion, if people were still celebrating Diwali. He said, no, that was the sound of military exercises being conducted at the naval base nearby!
So with Rayson Alex along for the ride we boarded the Allepey Express on Saturday night and took it all the way to … Allepey! Rayson did a wonderful job of making arrangements for our time in Kerala (and Ooty), and he was along as a companion and guide to make sure we got where we needed to go, but we especially enjoyed getting to know him better in several long conversations. He finished his doctoral thesis about eight months, but here in India there is an interminable wait for an outside reader (usually in England!?) to approve (or reject) it. Rayson has already been waiting 8 months, but 6 months to a year is pretty standard. Yikes!
Allepey is right in the heart of the backwaters region of the south Indian state Kerala, a place locals like to call God’s Own Country! Since I grew up in God’s Country (LaCrosse, Wisconsin), I had to see for myself. It’s nothing like LaCrosse, of course (surprise, surprise!), but it is a lush, tropical paradise. The Western Ghats, a mountain range that borders the eastern edge of the state, catch all of the moisture coming off of the Arabian Sea, and the frequent rains keep it green and beautiful. The town of Allepey is situated between the seacoast and the backwaters, a huge web of canals and lakes that span a distance of 75 km. from Cochin in the north to Kollam in the south. One of the big attractions for tourists is a backwaters cruise on a kettu vallam, an old commercial barge converted into a houseboat with thatched walls and roof and a covered deck from which you can watch the scenery on all sides.
Our train arrived mid-morning in Allepey, and we went straight to our boat for a two-night cruise! (This was our splurge!) Virginia and I were surprised to discover that Rayson would be spending time with friends during our cruise, but we were delighted at the prospect of some private time after two months apart! After leaving the dock, we putted out into the large lake just north of Allepey. Lovely enough, but we were far from shore, and there wasn’t much to see but water, distant palm trees, and the occasional water bird or flower. I started to think that two days of this might get tedious, but as we entered narrower and narrower canals and gradually became attuned to the rhythm and variety of life in the backwaters, it became a fascinating voyage of discovery. On many canals there is only a thin strip of land between the canal and a large field of rice paddies. Residents build their houses right on these narrow strips; some homes are simple thatched huts, some much more luxurious. Either way, there’s no place to hide from the boats on the canal, and as we cruised up and down the waterways, we got to see people as they lived their lives, did their chores, and carried on with their daily work. Our daily routine was simple: cruise for awhile, then dock in a shady spot for lunch and maybe a nap (lots of naps—A/C could only be used overnight, and the temperatures weren’t that much cooler than in Chennai!), cruise some more, then dock for dinner and the night (sunset at around 6 p.m. down here). Our first night we docked on one of those thin strips next to the home of the sister of one of our three boatmen. After a wonderful fish curry dinner we watched a movie they got just for us! It was The Last Samurai, and we’ve seen it before, but we really enjoy it, but there was some problem with the audio track, so we watched it with English subtitles! Halfway through it was time to close up the boat and go to bed, so we retreated to our A/C cabin and slept very soundly with the gentle rocking of the boat.
We woke to find a chicken scratching the earth to dig up breakfast for its brood of chicks. We watched a fisherman extracting his catch from the net, and we were even invited into the sister’s home for a brief visit! She had pictures of the wedding of one of her children, but even more prominent was the photo of her one-year-old grandchild! On the second day our cruise took us past several towns and villages and some much more upscale neighborhoods. We saw schools and churches (not many temples … that or we didn’t know what to look for here in Kerala—temple architecture is distinctively different here), pedestrian bridges and a highway bridge, boats of all kinds, high-end and simple resorts, and even the lake where the famous snake-boat races take place every August. Unbeknownst to us, we spent the second night docked back in Allepey where we had first boarded the boat, but we enjoyed getting out and walking along the canal looking at the businesses that lined the walk. We finally got to watch the end of the movie and enjoy another good dinner (food was very good on the boat—except for the first days breakfast of toast and jam only!?). The final morning we took a spin out into the big lake for breakfast, and then back to meet Rayson at the dock. Overall, it was a lovely, relaxing time with lots to look at and enjoy, whether it was the people, the wildlife, the water, or the vegetation. Very peaceful, very serene—just what we needed.
We climbed into the car with Rayson, and the driver took us north to Cochin, one of the old Keralan cities with many evidences of the Portuguese and Dutch who were there. We visited several of the standard tourist spots—the Mattancherry Palace with its elaborate frescoes, the oldest synagogue in India, the Chinese fishing nets, and St. Francis Church, the oldest English church in India. Then we checked in at the Green Woods Bethlehem Homestay, very lovely place surrounded by tall trees and all kinds of flowering plants. We had a very comfortable A/C room, hosts Ashley and Sheeba were very friendly and helpful, and the covered rooftop dining area provided lovely views of the trees that shaded us even two stories up. Then it was off to a long lunch at a place Joseph recommended highly, the Grand Hotel in Ernakulam (the modern city attached to Cochin). Joseph said we had to try the karimeen (a local fish) in moilee sauce … was that ever good! The sauce was mild and somewhat sweet, thanks to the coconut milk (virtually every Keralan dish has some part of the coconut in it!), and we ate every last bite. After a little shopping it was time to go see a program of Kathakali and dances at the Greenix Cultural Center. It was a sampler geared towards tourists that included different south Indian dance genres, including bharatanatyam, mohiniyattam, and theyyam, though we were especially interested in the scene from a kathakali dance-drama. Too bad we couldn’t stay in town long enough to see a longer kathakali performance, but this was a nice introduction. Next time!
Next day, after a lazy morning at Bethlehem, we headed out for lunch at the Fort House, an older, traditional hotel with a restaurant right on the water, shaded by a cluster of huge palm trees. It was a lovely place to sit and watch boats of all sizes (including ocean freighters) go by. To the right you could look towards Ernakulam, to the left the outlet to the sea, and on the far shore you could even see another set of Chinese fishing nets at work. After short visits to the Jain Temple (not open after 12:30!) and the Syrian Orthodox Church (Syriac Christians were the first to come to India, probably within the first century after Christ), we took a rest back at Bethlehem. Rayson left early to catch a bus so he could spend time with his friends at the NGO where he once worked, and after we checked out we took the car to the beach to watch the sunset over the sea. Sadly it was very cloudy to the west, so we didn’t see much color, but it was still nice to watch the ocean waves coming in! Then it was back to the Grand Hotel for dinner, a good choice not only for the food but for its proximity to the train station. A four-hour train ride got us to Coimbatore by about 1:00 a.m., where we had to wait another four hours on the platform. Some larger train stations have retiring rooms or at least A/C lounges where you can rest while you wait, but that’s not Coimbatore! We decided the train platform was comfortable enough, especially in the middle of the night, and it worked fine except for swatting the mosquitoes, especially when a young French traveler sat with us to wait for the same train. A one-hour train ride took us to Mettupalayam, and after a one-hour wait we boarded the “toy train” to Ooty (Udagamandalam … but who has time to say that?), a narrow-gauge cog railway that still uses steam locomotives as it climbs some pretty steep grades up into the mountains. One book called the ride bone-rattling, but I did not find it so. Now it did jolt and lurch its uncomfortable way up those steep grades, managing only 46 km. in a nearly five-hour-long trip, but if it’s bone-rattling you want, take the American Eagle, the old-style wooden roller coaster at Six Flags/Great America. Still, the views were fantastic, and with frequent service stops to let the old steam engine cool a bit and keep it in good operating condition, there was lots of time to look down into the canyon or up at the peaks, grab a snack, or snap pictures of the trees, flowers, tea plantations, monkeys, and mountain peaks. Virginia had a great time watching the Indian families in our compartment, seeing how Indian parents interact with their children.
We arrived in Ooty shortly after noon. Due to its elevation (about 7,500 feet above sea level), this was the place the British escaped to from Chennai during the hottest months of the year (much as they did from Delhi to Shimla in the north), and it still has some vestiges of British heritage. Just like Shimla, they build houses and neighborhoods right up the sides of the mountains, but Ooty is smaller, quieter, and somewhat slower-paced. We took a motor rickshaw up the mountain to our lodgings at King’s Cliff, former home of one of the British nobility with lovely views of the town below and the mountains around it. The building is quaint, and the grounds are immaculately maintained (how do they get that lawn so short and even?), with lots of flowers, shrubs, and trees. After lunch and a nap (more naps!), we took a little walk around the neighborhood and came back to sit in the parlor in front of the fireplace, read the newspaper, and finally get some dinner in their excellent restaurant. Virginia, who is trying to avoid carbs and sugar, had a bit of a run-in with the maitre d’ when he insisted more than once that she order rice or bread with her dinner (she has trouble in general with the frequent over-attentiveness of Indian shop keepers who mistake curiosity for a desire to buy something). There were some ruffled feelings on both sides, but the food was really good. Our room also had a fireplace, which made it a lovely place to retreat to, settle in, and warm up a bit … especially good in a building with no heating! Oh, did I mention that Ooty is delightfully cool due to its altitude? Average temperatures in October range from highs of 65 to 68 to lows of 45 to 50. Given that Chennai has been running at least 25 degrees hotter than that, this was a delightful and much-welcomed change!! I must say, though, that the nights really were on the chilly side. It got down to 58 degrees in our room overnight, and I was glad for the warm blankets and comforter … and my life companion in the bed beside me!
After a lazy morning (and another nap!), we headed into town. Got a few supplies at Charing Cross (very familiar sound to that!?) and had a wonderful veg lunch at the Hotel Nahar. Then we went for a good long walk. Up to the British church first, St. Stephens, then past the old British bank building in the most British looking part of town, then down a long stairway into the bazaar and municipal market, and finally past the train station to the Boat House on a lovely lake. Lots of Indians were there taking rides in motor boats or row boats or paddle boats or kiddie boats (one half of the lake reserved for non-motorized craft). Again, it was nice just to sit and watch the families, enjoy the water, and rest after a long walk. After another motor rickshaw ride up to King’s Cliff, we sat again in the parlor, visited with some other American guests (taking a short holiday from their yoga school in Mysore), and had another lovely dinner. Another fire in the room preceded another gloriously chilly night.
On the second Ooty morning, Virginia had wangled some cushions so she could sit on a chair out on the lawn and watch the dawn. After breakfast and another lazy morning, it was time to check out and make our way back to the train. On the way we stopped for an hour at the Botanical Garden, a lovely place that extends way up the mountain-side. We probably only went half-way up, but there was much to enjoy on a Saturday morning—the flowers, the topiary, the greenhouses, the elaborate displays (one shaped like India itself) … and the families! Then off for lunch at Fernhills Palace, former summer home of the Maharajah of Mysore and now a heritage hotel. Sitting atop a mountain on the other side of Ooty, it also afforded some wonderful views. The building itself is gaudily decorated in a style that owes a lot to the British, and the dining room offered nice views of the gardens in back. Then it was back to the train station for the ride back down the mountains and into the plains. The ride was much smoother and more comfortable on the way back town, taking only 3 and a half hours (partly because we didn’t need to stop so frequently). This time we had seats on the valley side of the train, making it possible to get some of the photos we missed out on coming up! For the final 10 km., the train was really racing along on the flat lands, so much so that our train car in the rear caught up with the engine’s smoke and ash before it could dissipate. In the fading light we could even see the sparks flying down the tracks behind us! Another hour’s wait at Mettupalayam and we boarded the Nilagiri (Blue Mountain) Express train to Chennai Central Station.
It was our third overnight train ride, but this one was going home. We arrived at 5:00 a.m. Sunday morning and our car showed up at 5:30. By 6:15 we were back in our room at the MCC guest house, grabbing some more sleep before the day began. After breakfast I spent some time with the college choir talking music history, and then it was off to the Principal’s Residence for a very nice home-cooked lunch with Alex and his wife. After another nap and a quiet dinner at the guest house, we took a long walk around the campus. Monday was another quiet day. We went over to the staff room to see who was there for tea. There was no tea (it’s reading week before final exams), but Nirmal was there with a doctoral student, so we had a lovely long chat that could have gone longer had lunch-time not intervened. It was a good chance for Virginia to catch up with Nirmal after his stay at our home last spring. After lunch it was time to pack and nap (again!), walk over so Virginia could meet Gabriel’s daughter, and then head to West Tambaram with Gabriel to visit the tailor. The khadi fabric we bought before our trip west was now soaked and washed (to get the shrinking done before the tailoring!), and we left instructions for shirts and slacks for Virginia and for two new kurtas for me. I’ll have to carry them all home myself in December, but they should make a nice birthday present for Virginia!
Sadly, we had to drop Virginia at the airport last night (Monday). It was an absolutely lovely couple of weeks that confirmed just how much I left behind to come to India for these four months. We are past the midway point now. Virginia arrived after 8 weeks apart, and two weeks later we are passing the 10th week. With 7 more weeks to go, it all sounds manageable, but now my room, the guest house, and the MCC campus are filled with wonderful memories of Virginia as well. It remains to be seen whether that will make these last (less than) two months easier or harder! Right now I’m very tender.
Virginia hoped to see some rain while she was here, but we saw none at all. Rayson said there had been a shower overnight in Cochin, but it wasn’t much of one. Everyone here in Chennai has been longing for the cooling effect of the monsoon, not the early summer southwest monsoon you always hear about, but the northeast, autumn monsoon that the eastern seaboard relies on for most of its water. With unusually hot temperatures well into October, everyone is especially eager to see the rain. I worried that heavy rains might keep Virginia from flying out on time (though more time with her would not have been a terrible thing!). Well, there was no rain last night to impede Virginia’s departure. After she left I heard thunder in the middle of the night, but no rain here. But today … when I came out for lunch I saw that the sky was unusually dark, and two minutes later, down came the rains, with lots of thunder to boot! It cleared out after about an hour, a mild start to the monsoon, perhaps, but a portent of things to come, with lots more rain in this week’s forecast. The plants need it, the people need it, and we all long for the cooling the rains will bring! And some of us also long for a December trip back home!!
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Final Term 1 Lecture! Virginia's coming!!
It’s been another eventful week. I’ve now given three lectures since returning from Madurai. More on that later. Not lots and lots of concerts right now, either. Some folks like Sanjay Subrahmanian are on tour in the US, and others are laying low with December Season looming on the horizon. There was a special event to honor legendary violinist Lalgudi Jayaraman on his 80th birthday, and A.R. Rahman gave a benefit concert that drew 70,000 fans. I wasn’t able to go to either of those, but Dr. Mathivanan gave me a good report on the felicitations for Jayaraman.
Last Saturday at the Heber Hall Festival, Octavia, I met a couple of alums from some years back. The three of us ending up judging both the acoustic and the electric rock contests, a task that ended up taking from around 10 in the morning till nearly 4 in the afternoon. A long day! Thankfully they brought us some food midway through. These contests are historically supposed to be for non-MCC bands (as opposed to the Selaiyur Hall festival contest for on-campus bands). They’ve gotten a bit lax on this in recent years, though, and have opened themselves to charges of favoritism and lack of impartiality if one of the MCC bands happens to win. The two alums were especially concerned about this, so when it came time to announce the results for the acoustic contest (which took an extra long time because we wanted to be scrupulously impartial), they pointed out the issues and encouraged the hall council to rethink this in the future (to the applause of non-MCC musicians in the crowd!).
I never cease to be amazed by the absolute dedication of MCC’s alums. This may be typical of India in general, but it is an obligation with a deeply felt sense of duty (one’s dharma) to continue to serve the faculty members who were your gurus. One of these alums from the Octavia contest (and now a new friend) is John Mathew, a very bright fellow with a veddy proper British accent who has had an international career in business and the sciences that has taken him to France, Harvard, etc., and now on to London. He was a co-founder of the MCC Scrub Society (dedicated to the preservation of the endangered native scrub jungle within the campus walls), and he continues to be active in his concern for ecological issues. When asked to give a lecture for an economics forum on campus, he of course agreed, and I got to hear his very fine talk on economic and scientific aspects of environmentalism. He was very good about checking in periodically during the week of his visit, and I look forward to seeing him again at some future date … who knows where or when?
I gave a lecture last Thursday to students of the philosophy department, my home for the fall. This time the topic was Music and Emotion, with a look at music therapy and some of the recent research showing more and more clearly that brain patterns in response to music closely match brain patterns associated with human emotions, and one can even match the musical responses to specific emotions! I think back to the oral exams for my doctorate, and I remember vividly how they mostly pooh-poohed the idea that music expressed emotions. Of course, there’s the famous line from Stravinsky that music is incapable of expressing anything at all (except itself), and I think that colored the thinking of much of that generation. Fascinating that science is now on the verge of confirming common wisdom on the subject, that music does express emotions (or at least does an impressive job of evoking emotional responses in the brain). In my conversations so far with Indian musicians ranging from amateurs to skilled performers to musicians with doctorates, no one here (so far) has done anything but affirm the idea that music expresses emotion, and that each raga evokes a different kind of emotion. I’ve had some good discussions with several philosophy students since then. This seems to be a topic of great interest!
Friday it was off to Kalakshetra, perhaps Chennai’s most famous dance (and music) academy. Jospeh and I met the director, Leela Samson, and we got to talk about plans for a January visit with students. It may be too late to make it work now, but there may also be the possibility of doing a guest lecture there! We had a lovely tour—I got to visit several classes, including a violin class and a 4th year dance class (I was very pleased to recognize the dance had something to do with Krishna when I saw the flute playing gestures!). We also dropped in on the instrument library, a hut filled with violins, tanpuras, veenas, mridangams, and two very special pianos. One dates back to 1804 and belonged to the founder of Kalakshetra (in remarkably good playing condition!), and the other is a more recent gift from the estate of M.S. Subbulakshmi, one of the most famous Carnatic classical singers of the 20th century. As a young woman in the days when actresses actually sang, she had a career in film, and as Gandhi’s favorite singer, she often performed for him. She just died a few years ago, so it’s a recent gift. Anyway, I got to touch the keys of Subbulakshmi’s piano!!
Over the weekend I got to visit one of the older British churches here, the Andrews Kirk, which appears to follow the Scottish rite in its worship. This is the place where I saw the pipe organ a month or so ago, and I finally got to hear it! Arul Siromoney, the choirmaster there is the son of one of the most respected, illustrious faculty members ever at MCC, Dr. Gift Siromoney. He was a mathematician and long-time head of the department of Statistics, but he was also a Renaissance man with interests that ranged from science to art to music to birds to archeology and beyond, and he touched the lives of many students and faculty members at MCC, all of whom still speak of him with awe. So I got to see the service, hear the choir and organ, and then stay for the rehearsal. When I visited Women’s Christian College a few weeks back, I met Arul’s wife, Dr. Anna Siromoney, head of WCC’s Physics department. When I expressed interest in visiting the Kirk, she tipped me off that the choir was preparing to sing a Haydn mass on the 18th. I told her I’d be in Kerala on the 18th, so she suggested attending the rehearsal the week before. So that’s what I did. I got to sing along for the rehearsal, which was great fun, even if it was difficult to read the tiny notes in the Haydn score. Arul asked for some feedback for the choir, which I was happy to provide. Given that the choir is tucked into a high-ceilinged alcove with the organ behind the pulpit/altar area where it’s sometimes difficult to hear even the piano accompaniment, they do a very fine job. Arul has then singing with proper Classical inflections and phrasing, and they have a very lovely soprano to do the virtuoso solo work in the Benedictus.
And then we went off for lunch! Dr. Anna was hoping to welcome me to their home, but they are in the middle of having the place painted, so things are somewhat discombobulated, and when the power went out after church, we all decided to head for a restaurant. She asked if I was homesick for American food after two months in India, and I thought for a few seconds and said, yes, that would be very nice, thank you! So it was off to Sparky’s an American diner run by an American who has spent time in Madison, Rockford, and Chicago’s western suburbs! “Never trust a skinny chef” is the place’s motto, seen on the sign out front, the placemats, and elsewhere. The walls are covered with state license plates, American kitsch, and the kind of signage you would see at Famous Dave’s (mmmm!) back home. And the menu had four pages chock full of the foods you might see at a diner back home! This is the closest I’ve seen to real American food in all my time in India—hamburgers, Philly beef, lasagna, etc., etc. Yes, you can get a hamburger with chicken or with a veggie pattie, but here you can also get real beef! I usually feel uncomfortable eating beef in India, but after two months here it sounded really good, so I ordered the Philly beef with onions, green peppers, and extra cheese. Yum! Just a little sweet, as if there was a bit of teriyaki sauce, but otherwise very good! Joining us were the soprano soloist and her friend, Arthur, the philosophy student Gabriel asked to accompany me into the city, and Arul’s mother! She is also something of a legend at MCC, and I remembered enough of my MCC history to know which department she was in and that she had written an article mathematical relationships in kolam patterns (the rice chalk drawings you see on sidewalks and roads just outside of many front doors, especially elaborate and colorful for holidays like Pongal.) She was very pleased that I knew something about her and her work, and we eventually discovered that I had also spent time in the house they once lived in on campus—when I had been invited to Merlin Isaac’s house for dinner early in my stay. What fun!
The last few days have been back to the grind! Monday, I gave a lecture on Music and Numbers for the MCC Math Association—probably 200 faculty and students in attendance in Anderson Hall, the college’s biggest lecture hall, used for conferences, special lectures, and the like. And today I gave a lecture that had nothing to do with music! My good friend Joseph Sathiaraj asked for a lecture on U.S. Gender Equality (or the lack thereof!) for students in the college’s values education program. And now that I’ve finished it, I think that will be my last MCC lecture for Term 1, which ends soon enough anyway. (Term 2 begins the last week of November, and even is later than scheduled due to the college closing for 2 weeks in August over swine flu concerns.) But better than finishing off the semester or lectures or anything else … Virginia arrives late tomorrow night!!! It’s been a long seven weeks since I last saw her (Skype conversations, even twice-daily, still don’t count as seeing her!), and I can hardly wait. I’ll have time tomorrow to pick up around the room and get ready. Her flight comes in at 11:05 p.m., but it’ll probably be midnight before she can leave the terminal. It’s going to be a looooong wait at the gate! We get a few days on campus, lunch with Sathiaraj and a get-together with Suri, and then it’s off to Kerala and Ooty for a week—some real vacation, and cooler temperatures, especially in Ooty. Kerala is on the lush side of India, the place where the monsoon first hits in May or June. Beautiful beaches, vegetation, and mountains (the Western Ghats). The call it God’s Own Country! Since I grew up in God’s Country (LaCrosse, Wisconsin), we’ll just have to see about that! We’ll be on a houseboat for a couple of nights on Kerala’s lovely, serene backwaters. Ooty is at about 7,500 feet elevation, and they’ve been getting warmer than usual October weather this week … all the way up to 70 degrees Fahrenheit! Sounds really good about now!
Last Saturday at the Heber Hall Festival, Octavia, I met a couple of alums from some years back. The three of us ending up judging both the acoustic and the electric rock contests, a task that ended up taking from around 10 in the morning till nearly 4 in the afternoon. A long day! Thankfully they brought us some food midway through. These contests are historically supposed to be for non-MCC bands (as opposed to the Selaiyur Hall festival contest for on-campus bands). They’ve gotten a bit lax on this in recent years, though, and have opened themselves to charges of favoritism and lack of impartiality if one of the MCC bands happens to win. The two alums were especially concerned about this, so when it came time to announce the results for the acoustic contest (which took an extra long time because we wanted to be scrupulously impartial), they pointed out the issues and encouraged the hall council to rethink this in the future (to the applause of non-MCC musicians in the crowd!).
I never cease to be amazed by the absolute dedication of MCC’s alums. This may be typical of India in general, but it is an obligation with a deeply felt sense of duty (one’s dharma) to continue to serve the faculty members who were your gurus. One of these alums from the Octavia contest (and now a new friend) is John Mathew, a very bright fellow with a veddy proper British accent who has had an international career in business and the sciences that has taken him to France, Harvard, etc., and now on to London. He was a co-founder of the MCC Scrub Society (dedicated to the preservation of the endangered native scrub jungle within the campus walls), and he continues to be active in his concern for ecological issues. When asked to give a lecture for an economics forum on campus, he of course agreed, and I got to hear his very fine talk on economic and scientific aspects of environmentalism. He was very good about checking in periodically during the week of his visit, and I look forward to seeing him again at some future date … who knows where or when?
I gave a lecture last Thursday to students of the philosophy department, my home for the fall. This time the topic was Music and Emotion, with a look at music therapy and some of the recent research showing more and more clearly that brain patterns in response to music closely match brain patterns associated with human emotions, and one can even match the musical responses to specific emotions! I think back to the oral exams for my doctorate, and I remember vividly how they mostly pooh-poohed the idea that music expressed emotions. Of course, there’s the famous line from Stravinsky that music is incapable of expressing anything at all (except itself), and I think that colored the thinking of much of that generation. Fascinating that science is now on the verge of confirming common wisdom on the subject, that music does express emotions (or at least does an impressive job of evoking emotional responses in the brain). In my conversations so far with Indian musicians ranging from amateurs to skilled performers to musicians with doctorates, no one here (so far) has done anything but affirm the idea that music expresses emotion, and that each raga evokes a different kind of emotion. I’ve had some good discussions with several philosophy students since then. This seems to be a topic of great interest!
Friday it was off to Kalakshetra, perhaps Chennai’s most famous dance (and music) academy. Jospeh and I met the director, Leela Samson, and we got to talk about plans for a January visit with students. It may be too late to make it work now, but there may also be the possibility of doing a guest lecture there! We had a lovely tour—I got to visit several classes, including a violin class and a 4th year dance class (I was very pleased to recognize the dance had something to do with Krishna when I saw the flute playing gestures!). We also dropped in on the instrument library, a hut filled with violins, tanpuras, veenas, mridangams, and two very special pianos. One dates back to 1804 and belonged to the founder of Kalakshetra (in remarkably good playing condition!), and the other is a more recent gift from the estate of M.S. Subbulakshmi, one of the most famous Carnatic classical singers of the 20th century. As a young woman in the days when actresses actually sang, she had a career in film, and as Gandhi’s favorite singer, she often performed for him. She just died a few years ago, so it’s a recent gift. Anyway, I got to touch the keys of Subbulakshmi’s piano!!
Over the weekend I got to visit one of the older British churches here, the Andrews Kirk, which appears to follow the Scottish rite in its worship. This is the place where I saw the pipe organ a month or so ago, and I finally got to hear it! Arul Siromoney, the choirmaster there is the son of one of the most respected, illustrious faculty members ever at MCC, Dr. Gift Siromoney. He was a mathematician and long-time head of the department of Statistics, but he was also a Renaissance man with interests that ranged from science to art to music to birds to archeology and beyond, and he touched the lives of many students and faculty members at MCC, all of whom still speak of him with awe. So I got to see the service, hear the choir and organ, and then stay for the rehearsal. When I visited Women’s Christian College a few weeks back, I met Arul’s wife, Dr. Anna Siromoney, head of WCC’s Physics department. When I expressed interest in visiting the Kirk, she tipped me off that the choir was preparing to sing a Haydn mass on the 18th. I told her I’d be in Kerala on the 18th, so she suggested attending the rehearsal the week before. So that’s what I did. I got to sing along for the rehearsal, which was great fun, even if it was difficult to read the tiny notes in the Haydn score. Arul asked for some feedback for the choir, which I was happy to provide. Given that the choir is tucked into a high-ceilinged alcove with the organ behind the pulpit/altar area where it’s sometimes difficult to hear even the piano accompaniment, they do a very fine job. Arul has then singing with proper Classical inflections and phrasing, and they have a very lovely soprano to do the virtuoso solo work in the Benedictus.
And then we went off for lunch! Dr. Anna was hoping to welcome me to their home, but they are in the middle of having the place painted, so things are somewhat discombobulated, and when the power went out after church, we all decided to head for a restaurant. She asked if I was homesick for American food after two months in India, and I thought for a few seconds and said, yes, that would be very nice, thank you! So it was off to Sparky’s an American diner run by an American who has spent time in Madison, Rockford, and Chicago’s western suburbs! “Never trust a skinny chef” is the place’s motto, seen on the sign out front, the placemats, and elsewhere. The walls are covered with state license plates, American kitsch, and the kind of signage you would see at Famous Dave’s (mmmm!) back home. And the menu had four pages chock full of the foods you might see at a diner back home! This is the closest I’ve seen to real American food in all my time in India—hamburgers, Philly beef, lasagna, etc., etc. Yes, you can get a hamburger with chicken or with a veggie pattie, but here you can also get real beef! I usually feel uncomfortable eating beef in India, but after two months here it sounded really good, so I ordered the Philly beef with onions, green peppers, and extra cheese. Yum! Just a little sweet, as if there was a bit of teriyaki sauce, but otherwise very good! Joining us were the soprano soloist and her friend, Arthur, the philosophy student Gabriel asked to accompany me into the city, and Arul’s mother! She is also something of a legend at MCC, and I remembered enough of my MCC history to know which department she was in and that she had written an article mathematical relationships in kolam patterns (the rice chalk drawings you see on sidewalks and roads just outside of many front doors, especially elaborate and colorful for holidays like Pongal.) She was very pleased that I knew something about her and her work, and we eventually discovered that I had also spent time in the house they once lived in on campus—when I had been invited to Merlin Isaac’s house for dinner early in my stay. What fun!
The last few days have been back to the grind! Monday, I gave a lecture on Music and Numbers for the MCC Math Association—probably 200 faculty and students in attendance in Anderson Hall, the college’s biggest lecture hall, used for conferences, special lectures, and the like. And today I gave a lecture that had nothing to do with music! My good friend Joseph Sathiaraj asked for a lecture on U.S. Gender Equality (or the lack thereof!) for students in the college’s values education program. And now that I’ve finished it, I think that will be my last MCC lecture for Term 1, which ends soon enough anyway. (Term 2 begins the last week of November, and even is later than scheduled due to the college closing for 2 weeks in August over swine flu concerns.) But better than finishing off the semester or lectures or anything else … Virginia arrives late tomorrow night!!! It’s been a long seven weeks since I last saw her (Skype conversations, even twice-daily, still don’t count as seeing her!), and I can hardly wait. I’ll have time tomorrow to pick up around the room and get ready. Her flight comes in at 11:05 p.m., but it’ll probably be midnight before she can leave the terminal. It’s going to be a looooong wait at the gate! We get a few days on campus, lunch with Sathiaraj and a get-together with Suri, and then it’s off to Kerala and Ooty for a week—some real vacation, and cooler temperatures, especially in Ooty. Kerala is on the lush side of India, the place where the monsoon first hits in May or June. Beautiful beaches, vegetation, and mountains (the Western Ghats). The call it God’s Own Country! Since I grew up in God’s Country (LaCrosse, Wisconsin), we’ll just have to see about that! We’ll be on a houseboat for a couple of nights on Kerala’s lovely, serene backwaters. Ooty is at about 7,500 feet elevation, and they’ve been getting warmer than usual October weather this week … all the way up to 70 degrees Fahrenheit! Sounds really good about now!
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Madurai
It was a long, bumpy four-hour bus ride from Thanjavur to Madurai. It was my first ride cross-country on a public bus in India. Kausalya warned me never to leave my bag unattended and not to take any snacks from anybody. Occasionally these snacks are drugged, and they’ll steal your stuff once you fall asleep. The seats were really narrow, and with a broad-shouldered fellow next to me it was hard to keep from falling into the center aisle on the frequent sharp left turns. Fortunately, this fellow got off one hour into the trip, and his place was taken by a small boy! I was enjoying all the extra room to stretch out when suddenly I noticed the boy starting to barf. I was quick enough to move aside and avoid being hurled upon, but the odor was certainly pungent. There was no other place I could move to, so I just had to live with it. At this point the boy moved onto his mother’s lap on the next seat, leaving me with no one in the seat next to me. When a fellow standing in the aisle moved forward to take the now empty (but barfy) seat, I turned to let him in, resigned to have a full-sized seat mate for the rest of the trip. But when the mother pointed out the vomit on the floor, he decided he’d rather stand. At this point I realized a miracle had just occurred! Everytime anyone came forward to take the empty seat, someone would point to the vomit and they would turn back. For the rest of the trip, NOBODY was going to take that empty seat. And you know, as it dried up, the smell dissipated as well!
Kausalya put me on a very early bus so I’d be sure to arrive before the heat of the day. I made it to Madurai shortly after 11:00 a.m., and was checking in at the hotel by noon. After the heat of the previous few days in Thillaisthanam, I decided that a long, relaxing afternoon in the air conditioned comfort of my hotel room was exactly what the doctor ordered. I ate the buffet lunch and dinner at the hotel and got to enjoy some foods I had not eaten in a long time! (Outside of the occasional fish, chicken is definitely the meat of choice at MCC.) Another nice afternoon nap, time to check some internet—just a lovely, lazy day.
Next morning my guide and car arrived at 8:30, and we headed directly to the Meenakshi Temple, one of the most impressive temple complexes in all of south India. The old part of the city is arranged with the streets circling the temple like the petals of a lotus blossom, but it’s now so built up that you rarely see the temple’s towering gopurams until you’re right next to it. And it is spectacular! There are a dozen of the tall, tall gopurams over the temple’s gateways, etc., the tallest of which is 170 ft. high! They are profusely decorated with divinities of all sorts and brightly painted (by city ordinance from the 1950s!). You just have to see some of the photos in my Flickr Photostream! We spent two hours there roaming from pillared hall to pillared hall, past the Golden Lotus Tank, and on to the entrances to the inner sanctums of the two primary gods here: Shiva and Meenakshi, the fish-eyed goddess (a sign of beauty), herself a manifestation of Parvati, the consort of Shiva. Neither of these are open to non-Hindus, so all I could do was peek into the doorways and look back as far as possible. I could almost make out Meenakshi’s idol (I think), but could not see Shiva’s at all (I don’t think—hard to know for sure!). So much to see, and so hard to absorb even a fraction of it!
After the temple, we visited the Nayaks’ palace, a Catholic church, and the Gandhi Museum. Madurai was the place where Gandhi first adopted the lunghi as his typical garb, and 50 years ago (this year!) Nehru established this as the first Gandhi museum in India. The displays are very well done, giving a good picture not only of Gandhi’s life, protests, and accomplishments, but a history of Indian resistance against the British going back to the 1700s. It’s not as gross as sounds, but one of the display cases contains the blood-stained shawl Gandhi was wearing when he died. There are a few striking works of art as well, including a tableau commemorating the day Gandhi insisted the Harijans (his name for the Dalits, or untouchables) be allowed to enter the temple with all of the other Hindus! Well worth the visit!
Then back for a quiet afternoon. In the evening I took the guide’s suggestion and went back to the Meenakshi Temple about half an hour before closing. Non-Hindus can’t see the idols of Shiva and Meenakshi when they are in their inner sanctums, but every night they remove Shiva from his sanctum and parade him down the hallway in a silver palanquin. They take him into Meenakshi’s sanctum where they can spend the night in bed together. Their celestial lovemaking is supposed to keep the world (and universe) in balance and well-ordered. I came to watch the procession, and waited near the entrance to the Meenaskhi sanctum till about 9:15, when a procession came down the hall from the Shiva sanctum with tavil beating and nadashwaram blaring, the traditional auspicious instruments. The palanquin was set down at the entrance to Meenakshi’s sanctum, where the priests set down a silver step stool and proceeded to bathe it with milk and other fluids and cover it with garlands and flower petals while another fellow fanned sacred smoke in their direction. As the priests carried out their oblations, there was constant chanting or other music going on while many people circumambulated the palanquin (always in a clockwise direction). Eventually they carried the palanquin into the sanctum and out of my view with many Hindus following the priests inside to watch them put the idols to bed for the night. At the crack of dawn they will reverse the process and return Shiva to his own sanctum. I walked out of the temple with the sounds of the procession still ringing through the pillared hallways!
Next morning the guide and car came at 9:00 and we headed out to see a few temples. To the east of the city was Alagarkoil, a Vishnu temple, and to the west was Thiruparankunram. The sanctum of this temple is cut right into the huge rock hill that dominates the town, the hill itself said to be one of the abodes of Sri Murugan, son of Shiva. Unusually, there are five gods enshrined in the sanctum here. If I have it right, they are: Shiva, Parvati, Ganesha, Vishnu, and Lakshmi. There is a school for Hindu priests here, and we are in time to watch a bit of their classes before they break for the morning. Further around the hill you can climb up to see the Jain Caves. It’s a rugged climb, first up a long stone staircase, and then up several series of steps cut right into the rock face. The views are spectacular, but it is very windy. It is hard to imagine living in the very small caves that dent the hill’s rock face, though they are certainly cooler than the rock outside where the sun beats down all day. It is said these Jains would spend the day in the caves and go into town in the evening to preach and teach (not always very popular with the authorities!). Then back to the hotel for another relaxed afternoon, but now I have to pack and catch the 6:00 p.m. train back to Chennai. It will be good to get back to MCC—this has been a strenuous trip—but I return having had experiences I would not trade for anything in the world.
Kausalya put me on a very early bus so I’d be sure to arrive before the heat of the day. I made it to Madurai shortly after 11:00 a.m., and was checking in at the hotel by noon. After the heat of the previous few days in Thillaisthanam, I decided that a long, relaxing afternoon in the air conditioned comfort of my hotel room was exactly what the doctor ordered. I ate the buffet lunch and dinner at the hotel and got to enjoy some foods I had not eaten in a long time! (Outside of the occasional fish, chicken is definitely the meat of choice at MCC.) Another nice afternoon nap, time to check some internet—just a lovely, lazy day.
Next morning my guide and car arrived at 8:30, and we headed directly to the Meenakshi Temple, one of the most impressive temple complexes in all of south India. The old part of the city is arranged with the streets circling the temple like the petals of a lotus blossom, but it’s now so built up that you rarely see the temple’s towering gopurams until you’re right next to it. And it is spectacular! There are a dozen of the tall, tall gopurams over the temple’s gateways, etc., the tallest of which is 170 ft. high! They are profusely decorated with divinities of all sorts and brightly painted (by city ordinance from the 1950s!). You just have to see some of the photos in my Flickr Photostream! We spent two hours there roaming from pillared hall to pillared hall, past the Golden Lotus Tank, and on to the entrances to the inner sanctums of the two primary gods here: Shiva and Meenakshi, the fish-eyed goddess (a sign of beauty), herself a manifestation of Parvati, the consort of Shiva. Neither of these are open to non-Hindus, so all I could do was peek into the doorways and look back as far as possible. I could almost make out Meenakshi’s idol (I think), but could not see Shiva’s at all (I don’t think—hard to know for sure!). So much to see, and so hard to absorb even a fraction of it!
After the temple, we visited the Nayaks’ palace, a Catholic church, and the Gandhi Museum. Madurai was the place where Gandhi first adopted the lunghi as his typical garb, and 50 years ago (this year!) Nehru established this as the first Gandhi museum in India. The displays are very well done, giving a good picture not only of Gandhi’s life, protests, and accomplishments, but a history of Indian resistance against the British going back to the 1700s. It’s not as gross as sounds, but one of the display cases contains the blood-stained shawl Gandhi was wearing when he died. There are a few striking works of art as well, including a tableau commemorating the day Gandhi insisted the Harijans (his name for the Dalits, or untouchables) be allowed to enter the temple with all of the other Hindus! Well worth the visit!
Then back for a quiet afternoon. In the evening I took the guide’s suggestion and went back to the Meenakshi Temple about half an hour before closing. Non-Hindus can’t see the idols of Shiva and Meenakshi when they are in their inner sanctums, but every night they remove Shiva from his sanctum and parade him down the hallway in a silver palanquin. They take him into Meenakshi’s sanctum where they can spend the night in bed together. Their celestial lovemaking is supposed to keep the world (and universe) in balance and well-ordered. I came to watch the procession, and waited near the entrance to the Meenaskhi sanctum till about 9:15, when a procession came down the hall from the Shiva sanctum with tavil beating and nadashwaram blaring, the traditional auspicious instruments. The palanquin was set down at the entrance to Meenakshi’s sanctum, where the priests set down a silver step stool and proceeded to bathe it with milk and other fluids and cover it with garlands and flower petals while another fellow fanned sacred smoke in their direction. As the priests carried out their oblations, there was constant chanting or other music going on while many people circumambulated the palanquin (always in a clockwise direction). Eventually they carried the palanquin into the sanctum and out of my view with many Hindus following the priests inside to watch them put the idols to bed for the night. At the crack of dawn they will reverse the process and return Shiva to his own sanctum. I walked out of the temple with the sounds of the procession still ringing through the pillared hallways!
Next morning the guide and car came at 9:00 and we headed out to see a few temples. To the east of the city was Alagarkoil, a Vishnu temple, and to the west was Thiruparankunram. The sanctum of this temple is cut right into the huge rock hill that dominates the town, the hill itself said to be one of the abodes of Sri Murugan, son of Shiva. Unusually, there are five gods enshrined in the sanctum here. If I have it right, they are: Shiva, Parvati, Ganesha, Vishnu, and Lakshmi. There is a school for Hindu priests here, and we are in time to watch a bit of their classes before they break for the morning. Further around the hill you can climb up to see the Jain Caves. It’s a rugged climb, first up a long stone staircase, and then up several series of steps cut right into the rock face. The views are spectacular, but it is very windy. It is hard to imagine living in the very small caves that dent the hill’s rock face, though they are certainly cooler than the rock outside where the sun beats down all day. It is said these Jains would spend the day in the caves and go into town in the evening to preach and teach (not always very popular with the authorities!). Then back to the hotel for another relaxed afternoon, but now I have to pack and catch the 6:00 p.m. train back to Chennai. It will be good to get back to MCC—this has been a strenuous trip—but I return having had experiences I would not trade for anything in the world.
Asking directions
Odds and ends from the last 3 weeks—
It didn’t hit me till afterwards, but I guess I’m becoming something of an old hand on the MCC campus. Wednesday (a couple of weeks ago) I was taking a (hot!) longer than usual walk to use the ATM on the edge of the campus. I was on the last bit of road leading to the guest house when a two-wheeler (translation: motorcycle) pulls up and the fellow on the back seat asks for directions to the philosophy department. Bear in mind that I could not have helped one lick if he had asked for the departments of political science, economics, chemistry, or math (among others), but he was asking directions to my home department, and I could tell him the name of the hall and exactly how to get there! Up till now, I’ve been the one asking directions. Add to that a couple of notices in the MCC Newsletter—one alerting the campus to my presence here as “Scholar in Residence,” the other listing the lecture I presented in the Philosophy department 2 weeks back on a faculty accomplishments page—and I’m starting to feel like I belong. (Don’t fret, Virginia … you don’t know how glad I will be to come back home to you!!)
Got a nice visit from Vimal, director of the Heber Chapel Choir here on campus. I’ve been helping him acquire some music and books to help out the church musicians here on campus. We’ve been talking about doing some sessions with folks who are interested, perhaps some music history, perhaps some music theory. It was lovely to chat with a musician! We got to talking about the donation of a refurbished pipe organ for Heber Chapel. There’s a fellow who has been rehabing organs here in south India, and charging a pretty penny for the privilege. He’ll install this organ as long as they will maintain the instrument on a regular basis. Fortunately the donor is happy to provide this funding on an ongoing basis as well. As we talk, I am surprised to learn I was absolutely wrong (see One Week Down entry) about the number of pipe organs in India. Vimal tells me there are quite a few—most of them in disuse or disrepair, but lots and lots of them. They are another piece of the British heritage here; after all, how can you have a proper Anglican church service without a proper pipe organ? In turn, Vimal is very surprised to learn that the singers in my church choir back home are not all monster sight readers. I have to tell him that many of my music majors are not so good at this, either! He feels like he has to work so hard to get his singers to read notes, follow the director, produce a nice sound and blend, etc., etc. I can’t help but laugh as he talks, and I tell him that these are the things all choir directors struggle with everywhere. Certainly there are a few problems unique to the Indian context, but they are not huge problems compared to what we all face every time we step in front of a choir.
Before Vimal leaves, we agree to go out for pizza in the very near future, and when the day comes, we’re a foursome: Vimal, Suri, a friend of Suri’s celebrating his 25th birthday, and myself. We went over to Pizza Corner, a place some of my American students frequented in 2007. It may not have been the world’s best pizza, but it tasted like it to me!! I mentioned earlier how much I have missed cheese in my diet, so Suri made sure we ordered double cheese, and it was soooooo good. Best of all, it was wonderful to have company at dinner-time. Since then Suri has invited me over to his “pad” on a couple of occasions—some of the company I’ve been craving. Suri is such a kind man; he made a note of my cheese craving, and the next time I visited his place, he brought out a plate of cheese chunks! Suri also has a passion for American pop music of the 1960s (Beatles, Dylan, etc.), especially the more folk-oriented stuff. He helped coordinate a Beatles festival here on campus earlier this year with good performances of lots of classic songs. Like the historian he is, he knows an incredible number of those songs, many more than I do, and he’s even several years younger than I am!
It didn’t hit me till afterwards, but I guess I’m becoming something of an old hand on the MCC campus. Wednesday (a couple of weeks ago) I was taking a (hot!) longer than usual walk to use the ATM on the edge of the campus. I was on the last bit of road leading to the guest house when a two-wheeler (translation: motorcycle) pulls up and the fellow on the back seat asks for directions to the philosophy department. Bear in mind that I could not have helped one lick if he had asked for the departments of political science, economics, chemistry, or math (among others), but he was asking directions to my home department, and I could tell him the name of the hall and exactly how to get there! Up till now, I’ve been the one asking directions. Add to that a couple of notices in the MCC Newsletter—one alerting the campus to my presence here as “Scholar in Residence,” the other listing the lecture I presented in the Philosophy department 2 weeks back on a faculty accomplishments page—and I’m starting to feel like I belong. (Don’t fret, Virginia … you don’t know how glad I will be to come back home to you!!)
Got a nice visit from Vimal, director of the Heber Chapel Choir here on campus. I’ve been helping him acquire some music and books to help out the church musicians here on campus. We’ve been talking about doing some sessions with folks who are interested, perhaps some music history, perhaps some music theory. It was lovely to chat with a musician! We got to talking about the donation of a refurbished pipe organ for Heber Chapel. There’s a fellow who has been rehabing organs here in south India, and charging a pretty penny for the privilege. He’ll install this organ as long as they will maintain the instrument on a regular basis. Fortunately the donor is happy to provide this funding on an ongoing basis as well. As we talk, I am surprised to learn I was absolutely wrong (see One Week Down entry) about the number of pipe organs in India. Vimal tells me there are quite a few—most of them in disuse or disrepair, but lots and lots of them. They are another piece of the British heritage here; after all, how can you have a proper Anglican church service without a proper pipe organ? In turn, Vimal is very surprised to learn that the singers in my church choir back home are not all monster sight readers. I have to tell him that many of my music majors are not so good at this, either! He feels like he has to work so hard to get his singers to read notes, follow the director, produce a nice sound and blend, etc., etc. I can’t help but laugh as he talks, and I tell him that these are the things all choir directors struggle with everywhere. Certainly there are a few problems unique to the Indian context, but they are not huge problems compared to what we all face every time we step in front of a choir.
Before Vimal leaves, we agree to go out for pizza in the very near future, and when the day comes, we’re a foursome: Vimal, Suri, a friend of Suri’s celebrating his 25th birthday, and myself. We went over to Pizza Corner, a place some of my American students frequented in 2007. It may not have been the world’s best pizza, but it tasted like it to me!! I mentioned earlier how much I have missed cheese in my diet, so Suri made sure we ordered double cheese, and it was soooooo good. Best of all, it was wonderful to have company at dinner-time. Since then Suri has invited me over to his “pad” on a couple of occasions—some of the company I’ve been craving. Suri is such a kind man; he made a note of my cheese craving, and the next time I visited his place, he brought out a plate of cheese chunks! Suri also has a passion for American pop music of the 1960s (Beatles, Dylan, etc.), especially the more folk-oriented stuff. He helped coordinate a Beatles festival here on campus earlier this year with good performances of lots of classic songs. Like the historian he is, he knows an incredible number of those songs, many more than I do, and he’s even several years younger than I am!
Thillaisthanam
My goodness, it’s been a long while since I wrote anything in my blog! Needless to say, it’s been an incredibly hectic (and ultimately wonderful) couple of weeks. First it was a week with three lectures (ouch!) and not much sleep followed by a trip to read a paper at the OSLE-India International Conference, and then there was a good six days spent in Tiruvaiyaru (near Thanjavur) and Madurai. There’s no way I can get everything into just one entry, so I’ll go with highlights and fill in other details in later entries. And do I have some pictures! I’ll get some of those up as soon as I can, but first the blog!
I have to start in Tiruvaiyaru (actually Thillaisthanam, a small rural village 2 km. to the west), the real emotional heart of my journey south. I met Dr. Kausalya in 2006 when she was still principal of the Government Music College in Tiruvaiyaru. I had traveled there to see the place where St. Tyagaraja (south India’s Beethoven) had lived, composed his great music, and died. I was also keen on arranging a visit with my students to the Tyagaraja Aradhana, one of the most important and most sacred music festivals in this part of the world. At that time she welcomed me at the college, a venerable old building on the banks of the Kaveri River. She saw to it that I visited the Tyagaraja shrine, the temple, the art gallery, etc.; she prevailed upon a younger colleague to give me a complete tour of the college; she invited me to observe her veena class; and following a conversation about the joys and trials of running the college for so many years, she invited me to her home to see the work she was doing with children in her neighborhood, a project she was hoping to continue and expand after her impending retirement (mandatory at age 58 here!). I was deeply impressed by such hospitality, but I also came away feeling a deep sense of connection with a woman who only a few days earlier had been a total stranger. And when I brought my students to Tiruvaiyaru in 2007, she was magnificent! She got us into the inner sanctum of the Saraswati Mahal Library where the curator showed us some of the rarest treasures from the library of Serfoji II (1777-1832, last of the sovereign Maratha maharajahs). Over the protests of security guards who said it was full, she walked us into an evening concert at the festival. She brought one of Thanjavur’s best hereditary veena makers to do a demonstration. She arranged a concert at the resort done by a folk singer who is now a very big star. She even got us into the press box on the holy day itself, sitting right next to the musicians (hundreds of them) as they sang Tyagaraja’s Five Jewels—right after the procession arrived from the site of Tyagaraja’s home (torn down in 2006, sadly). But perhaps most impressive of all, we got to see the children she works with, singing and dancing in beautiful costumes, looking much different than the motley bunch I had seen the previous summer. Her hard work was paying off in visible, tangible ways.
Fast-forward to September 2009. I have not seen Kausalya since January 2007. Over the past year, I had sent a letter twice asking about our 2010 course, but had not heard back. Once I arrived in India in August, good friend Joseph provided me with her email address. She’s now online! We were able to set up a visit following my conference in Tiruchi, just an hour and a half away from her home. But then she reads an announcement about the conference (and my talk!) in the newspaper, and she writes that she would like to hear the paper, too! So sure enough, as I’m sitting on the platform waiting to give my paper, in walks Kausalya. Same as we saw in Thanjavur in January 2007, she is immediately recognized as a guest of importance and is escorted to a seat in the front row. After I finish my talk, the principal of National College in Tiruchi (our conference host) walks down and sits next to Kausalya—clearly he knows her well, too! We have a few minutes to chat, and I tell her I can leave earlier than expected, so I will be there for her students’ gathering that evening after all. She warns me there will be no A/C in her guest room, but can arrange for that in Thanjavur if I absolutely, positively must have it. We agree to decide that once I arrive, and she is off to make preparations!
After some warm farewells from my OSLE friends Dr. Nirmal, Susan, and Rayson, I’m off for a car ride cross-country from Tiruchi to Tiruvaiyaru. This is the Kaveri delta region, and there are many river channels to cross, small villages to pass through, and fields and rice patties to look at. A little rain on the way (always welcome here, both for the water it brings and the cooling effect it has), but finally we arrive. Keenly aware that I appear tired (and I am dog-tired after a couple of short nights and an overnight train to Tiruchi), she offers me a chance to lie down while. I come out almost too late to see the student gathering. They are there to celebrate Navaratri (the doll festival), gathered around a stair-like arrangement of shelves with dolls representing various gods, goddesses, etc. from the Hindu pantheon. There are dances and songs, similar to what I remembered from 2007, and while many of the children are new, a few remember me from 2007 (though at least one is no longer a child!). After some conversation and a simple dinner of idli and chutney, it’s off to bed.
Kausalya’s work with the children has definitely taken on new dimensions. She has created a foundation, Marabu, and acquired a house right across the street from her home in the village of Thillaisthanam. She has done significant work remodeling the place, adding Western toilets and an upstairs that will provide more guest rooms when finished. The foundation house of course provides space for her work with the children and the veena students she takes on, but she is also looking to provide accommodations and instruction for international students who wish to come and study veena in more-or-less traditional gurukulam fashion, where you live with your guru and devote your time to study. I hope this will catch on. She’s not going to charge the exorbitant fees a student would encounter in Chennai (in fact, there will likely be no tuition fee), and the calm, peaceful rural setting, wonderful home-cooked vegetarian meals, and the amazing musical heritage of this place could not fail to attract students looking for an authentic Indian experience. The trinity of Carnatic classical music—Tyagaraja, Sastri, and Dikshitar—all lived in this area in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, and one can still sense their presence here.
For three days and nights I managed to both survive the heat and get rested up for the trip to Madurai. Afternoon naps were a must, as it was too hot to do much else without the possibility of occasional retreats to air conditioning. Late afternoons and evenings were a time to observe her work with students or get out and poke around. One evening I took a walk down the street with a neighbor to visit the local school and schoolmaster and sit awhile with the neighbor and his son. This is a small rural village, and I’m not sure what I expected, but the people I met were very literate and well-educated, and many had good English skills as well. I was surprised, quite frankly. Another evening we visited the temple of the moon goddess, Chandran, another local temple in Thillaisthanam, and the Tyagaraja Samadhi on the Kaveri river (looking very different than it did during the festival in 2007!). On the way we were “delayed” by a street festival with musicians, and elephant, and a float in honor of a local poet-goddess. We got out of the car to look, and suddenly I was an honored guest decked with a shawl by one of the festival organizers!
Mornings were a time for poojas, or devotions. One must bathe beforehand, and on second morning we had to wait and do nothing between 7:30 and 9:00, when Saturn was in an inauspicious position! Poojas include chanting, gifts of fresh fruit and a broken coconut, floral garlands and flower petals to be sprinkled on objects in your home’s shrine, a camphor flame used to cense sacred objects, and kneeling and bowing (but never to the south). As the senior member of the household (I assume), her mother always took the role of chief ritualist. There’s almost a sense of a new year, or at least a new beginning, with the Navarathri festival. All of the tools of your trade must be presented as part of the pooja at the end of the festival, and so Kausalya’s veenas were also presented, beshawled, and sprinkled with petals. As I tossed petals on one of her veenas, the stem hit a string at exactly the right angle to make it ring. Her eyes got wide and she explained that this was a very auspicious, positive response from Saraswati (goddess of music, like St. Cecilia or one of the Greek muses), and that I would have a blessed year! The second morning she started dismantling the dolls, to be stored until next year (like Christmas ornaments and decorations). I did not see the pooja for her computer, but she invited me to see the pooja for the car, done by her driver. He censed the entire car—under the hood, inside the car, around and under each of the four tires. And when that was done, you had to go for a ritual drive, visit the local temple, and buy something auspicious. So off we went for a ride, and all the while she, the driver, and her brother (visiting from Chennai) were pointing out the numerous vehicles decorated with garlands, palm branches, etc. as part of the festival’s end. Also like New Year’s, once all the tools of the trade are blessed, it’s time to begin again: to take on new students, to start new courses of instruction, and so on.
Over the course of those three days, we had many conversations. Over meals I learned a great deal about rural Brahmin cooking and cuisine and how to eat these foods in the traditional way. I think the biggest laugh I got from Kausalya came when I asked what she would do for entertainment when I was no longer there to amuse them with my clumsy attempts at eating with my right hand! When I observed any activity, she was careful to explain what was going on to help me understand. In quiet moments between things or in the evening, we had some longer conversations that ranged through various topics. Of course, there were many conversations about January and the arrival of my students. She welcomes our plans to take video of her work with the children and to interview her about various aspects of the foundation’s work. But she also wants us to learn some songs and dances from her children, to take a beginning veena lesson with her (where there is interest), and eat some traditional home-cooked meals. And now that January is not so far away, she is brainstorming other possibilities around town—visits to the temple, the Aradhana, the art gallery, the newly-renovated Durbar Hall (magnificent, she say!), and maybe even a visit with the Prince (descendant of Serfoji II)! I suspect that whatever happens in January will be far beyond what I can imagine—even though I’ve been here three times now!
We also had opportunities to talk about our families, she about the many relatives in the photos hanging on her walls, I about my concerns for my father and sister and my plans to be home for Christmas, more important for my family than any other time of year. Early on, her mother asked if I was English or German, since they are often “stout,” and I had to tell her that while I am an American, she had it just about right. I’m German on both sides and English/British Isles on my father’s side. She only missed the Polish from my mother’s side!
On the last night Kausalya told me I was unlike any American she had ever met: soft-spoken, thoughtful, and even somewhat child-like. It is true that I am frequently in awe of her; she is a strong woman with a big heart and a big vision. In her presence (and on her turf) I also often felt like a student with much to learn, walking around with my eyes and ears wide open. Even after four previous visits, so much is still foreign and unfamiliar, and this was my first real experience spending this much time in a rural setting, so very different from the MCC college campus I have come to know so well. Still, I think we each know where the other’s heart is, and that night she called me her brother. Even now I cannot begin to explain the bond we have had since our first meeting, for it is something deeper than words. There may be an element of mutual curiosity, but there is certainly an abundance of genuine respect and affection. Whatever it is, it is something wonderful and touching. On the final morning, her mother said, “Please come back!” And as I waved goodbye to Kausalya and her driver while my bus to Madurai pulled out of the station, unexpected tears welled up in my eyes. If there is an emotional heart to my journey so far, this was it. In the meantime, I am instructed to give her warm greetings to my mother and father, to my brother and sisters, to my wife and children, and to my grandchildren. Virginia is already telling family members that I have a new sister, and I shall greet them all for Kausalya when I get home for Christmas.
I have to start in Tiruvaiyaru (actually Thillaisthanam, a small rural village 2 km. to the west), the real emotional heart of my journey south. I met Dr. Kausalya in 2006 when she was still principal of the Government Music College in Tiruvaiyaru. I had traveled there to see the place where St. Tyagaraja (south India’s Beethoven) had lived, composed his great music, and died. I was also keen on arranging a visit with my students to the Tyagaraja Aradhana, one of the most important and most sacred music festivals in this part of the world. At that time she welcomed me at the college, a venerable old building on the banks of the Kaveri River. She saw to it that I visited the Tyagaraja shrine, the temple, the art gallery, etc.; she prevailed upon a younger colleague to give me a complete tour of the college; she invited me to observe her veena class; and following a conversation about the joys and trials of running the college for so many years, she invited me to her home to see the work she was doing with children in her neighborhood, a project she was hoping to continue and expand after her impending retirement (mandatory at age 58 here!). I was deeply impressed by such hospitality, but I also came away feeling a deep sense of connection with a woman who only a few days earlier had been a total stranger. And when I brought my students to Tiruvaiyaru in 2007, she was magnificent! She got us into the inner sanctum of the Saraswati Mahal Library where the curator showed us some of the rarest treasures from the library of Serfoji II (1777-1832, last of the sovereign Maratha maharajahs). Over the protests of security guards who said it was full, she walked us into an evening concert at the festival. She brought one of Thanjavur’s best hereditary veena makers to do a demonstration. She arranged a concert at the resort done by a folk singer who is now a very big star. She even got us into the press box on the holy day itself, sitting right next to the musicians (hundreds of them) as they sang Tyagaraja’s Five Jewels—right after the procession arrived from the site of Tyagaraja’s home (torn down in 2006, sadly). But perhaps most impressive of all, we got to see the children she works with, singing and dancing in beautiful costumes, looking much different than the motley bunch I had seen the previous summer. Her hard work was paying off in visible, tangible ways.
Fast-forward to September 2009. I have not seen Kausalya since January 2007. Over the past year, I had sent a letter twice asking about our 2010 course, but had not heard back. Once I arrived in India in August, good friend Joseph provided me with her email address. She’s now online! We were able to set up a visit following my conference in Tiruchi, just an hour and a half away from her home. But then she reads an announcement about the conference (and my talk!) in the newspaper, and she writes that she would like to hear the paper, too! So sure enough, as I’m sitting on the platform waiting to give my paper, in walks Kausalya. Same as we saw in Thanjavur in January 2007, she is immediately recognized as a guest of importance and is escorted to a seat in the front row. After I finish my talk, the principal of National College in Tiruchi (our conference host) walks down and sits next to Kausalya—clearly he knows her well, too! We have a few minutes to chat, and I tell her I can leave earlier than expected, so I will be there for her students’ gathering that evening after all. She warns me there will be no A/C in her guest room, but can arrange for that in Thanjavur if I absolutely, positively must have it. We agree to decide that once I arrive, and she is off to make preparations!
After some warm farewells from my OSLE friends Dr. Nirmal, Susan, and Rayson, I’m off for a car ride cross-country from Tiruchi to Tiruvaiyaru. This is the Kaveri delta region, and there are many river channels to cross, small villages to pass through, and fields and rice patties to look at. A little rain on the way (always welcome here, both for the water it brings and the cooling effect it has), but finally we arrive. Keenly aware that I appear tired (and I am dog-tired after a couple of short nights and an overnight train to Tiruchi), she offers me a chance to lie down while. I come out almost too late to see the student gathering. They are there to celebrate Navaratri (the doll festival), gathered around a stair-like arrangement of shelves with dolls representing various gods, goddesses, etc. from the Hindu pantheon. There are dances and songs, similar to what I remembered from 2007, and while many of the children are new, a few remember me from 2007 (though at least one is no longer a child!). After some conversation and a simple dinner of idli and chutney, it’s off to bed.
Kausalya’s work with the children has definitely taken on new dimensions. She has created a foundation, Marabu, and acquired a house right across the street from her home in the village of Thillaisthanam. She has done significant work remodeling the place, adding Western toilets and an upstairs that will provide more guest rooms when finished. The foundation house of course provides space for her work with the children and the veena students she takes on, but she is also looking to provide accommodations and instruction for international students who wish to come and study veena in more-or-less traditional gurukulam fashion, where you live with your guru and devote your time to study. I hope this will catch on. She’s not going to charge the exorbitant fees a student would encounter in Chennai (in fact, there will likely be no tuition fee), and the calm, peaceful rural setting, wonderful home-cooked vegetarian meals, and the amazing musical heritage of this place could not fail to attract students looking for an authentic Indian experience. The trinity of Carnatic classical music—Tyagaraja, Sastri, and Dikshitar—all lived in this area in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, and one can still sense their presence here.
For three days and nights I managed to both survive the heat and get rested up for the trip to Madurai. Afternoon naps were a must, as it was too hot to do much else without the possibility of occasional retreats to air conditioning. Late afternoons and evenings were a time to observe her work with students or get out and poke around. One evening I took a walk down the street with a neighbor to visit the local school and schoolmaster and sit awhile with the neighbor and his son. This is a small rural village, and I’m not sure what I expected, but the people I met were very literate and well-educated, and many had good English skills as well. I was surprised, quite frankly. Another evening we visited the temple of the moon goddess, Chandran, another local temple in Thillaisthanam, and the Tyagaraja Samadhi on the Kaveri river (looking very different than it did during the festival in 2007!). On the way we were “delayed” by a street festival with musicians, and elephant, and a float in honor of a local poet-goddess. We got out of the car to look, and suddenly I was an honored guest decked with a shawl by one of the festival organizers!
Mornings were a time for poojas, or devotions. One must bathe beforehand, and on second morning we had to wait and do nothing between 7:30 and 9:00, when Saturn was in an inauspicious position! Poojas include chanting, gifts of fresh fruit and a broken coconut, floral garlands and flower petals to be sprinkled on objects in your home’s shrine, a camphor flame used to cense sacred objects, and kneeling and bowing (but never to the south). As the senior member of the household (I assume), her mother always took the role of chief ritualist. There’s almost a sense of a new year, or at least a new beginning, with the Navarathri festival. All of the tools of your trade must be presented as part of the pooja at the end of the festival, and so Kausalya’s veenas were also presented, beshawled, and sprinkled with petals. As I tossed petals on one of her veenas, the stem hit a string at exactly the right angle to make it ring. Her eyes got wide and she explained that this was a very auspicious, positive response from Saraswati (goddess of music, like St. Cecilia or one of the Greek muses), and that I would have a blessed year! The second morning she started dismantling the dolls, to be stored until next year (like Christmas ornaments and decorations). I did not see the pooja for her computer, but she invited me to see the pooja for the car, done by her driver. He censed the entire car—under the hood, inside the car, around and under each of the four tires. And when that was done, you had to go for a ritual drive, visit the local temple, and buy something auspicious. So off we went for a ride, and all the while she, the driver, and her brother (visiting from Chennai) were pointing out the numerous vehicles decorated with garlands, palm branches, etc. as part of the festival’s end. Also like New Year’s, once all the tools of the trade are blessed, it’s time to begin again: to take on new students, to start new courses of instruction, and so on.
Over the course of those three days, we had many conversations. Over meals I learned a great deal about rural Brahmin cooking and cuisine and how to eat these foods in the traditional way. I think the biggest laugh I got from Kausalya came when I asked what she would do for entertainment when I was no longer there to amuse them with my clumsy attempts at eating with my right hand! When I observed any activity, she was careful to explain what was going on to help me understand. In quiet moments between things or in the evening, we had some longer conversations that ranged through various topics. Of course, there were many conversations about January and the arrival of my students. She welcomes our plans to take video of her work with the children and to interview her about various aspects of the foundation’s work. But she also wants us to learn some songs and dances from her children, to take a beginning veena lesson with her (where there is interest), and eat some traditional home-cooked meals. And now that January is not so far away, she is brainstorming other possibilities around town—visits to the temple, the Aradhana, the art gallery, the newly-renovated Durbar Hall (magnificent, she say!), and maybe even a visit with the Prince (descendant of Serfoji II)! I suspect that whatever happens in January will be far beyond what I can imagine—even though I’ve been here three times now!
We also had opportunities to talk about our families, she about the many relatives in the photos hanging on her walls, I about my concerns for my father and sister and my plans to be home for Christmas, more important for my family than any other time of year. Early on, her mother asked if I was English or German, since they are often “stout,” and I had to tell her that while I am an American, she had it just about right. I’m German on both sides and English/British Isles on my father’s side. She only missed the Polish from my mother’s side!
On the last night Kausalya told me I was unlike any American she had ever met: soft-spoken, thoughtful, and even somewhat child-like. It is true that I am frequently in awe of her; she is a strong woman with a big heart and a big vision. In her presence (and on her turf) I also often felt like a student with much to learn, walking around with my eyes and ears wide open. Even after four previous visits, so much is still foreign and unfamiliar, and this was my first real experience spending this much time in a rural setting, so very different from the MCC college campus I have come to know so well. Still, I think we each know where the other’s heart is, and that night she called me her brother. Even now I cannot begin to explain the bond we have had since our first meeting, for it is something deeper than words. There may be an element of mutual curiosity, but there is certainly an abundance of genuine respect and affection. Whatever it is, it is something wonderful and touching. On the final morning, her mother said, “Please come back!” And as I waved goodbye to Kausalya and her driver while my bus to Madurai pulled out of the station, unexpected tears welled up in my eyes. If there is an emotional heart to my journey so far, this was it. In the meantime, I am instructed to give her warm greetings to my mother and father, to my brother and sisters, to my wife and children, and to my grandchildren. Virginia is already telling family members that I have a new sister, and I shall greet them all for Kausalya when I get home for Christmas.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
“Steal Away” & “I am your Arjuna”
Had a wonderful experience on Sunday. I was taken to Immanuel Methodist Church down in Egmore, in the heart of Chennai, IMC has one of the best church choirs in Chennai, and I was invited to attend their noontime rehearsal and then stay for the evening service. I didn’t really know what to expect, but I am now thinking that church choirs here must be the same as church choirs in the U.S. Here was a bunch of folks gathered together because they love singing (and love singing praises to God)—and who love being together. So much good-natured joshing and laughter, and still a great seriousness about singing well and cohesively as a good choir must. Over the years I have sung with many choirs, and I felt right at home at IMC. First they ran through some music they are preparing for Christmas—“And the glory of the Lord” from Messiah and other assorted anthems—some of them very difficult with lots of chromaticism, yet they were managing very well. I sat there thinking these could use some polishing and shaping, but when they pulled out the spirituals for the Sunday evening service, I realized that this would certainly happen in the two months before Christmas. The spirituals were very definitely well polished and shaped, in fact, surprisingly well so. Back in the U.S. choir directors (myself included) often grumble about how hard it is to get a white choir to sing African-American gospel music in an authentic manner. It’s hard for us to forget our reserve and sing with the vocal and emotional abandon the music requires. Now, I’m not saying that the IMC choir had totally absorbed the idiom, but they were way ahead of any white choir I’ve ever been a part of. The director used rhythm very creatively (swung rhythms and occasional triplets) with introductions and repetitions back and forth between sections—things that were not in the printed score, but all very stylish and effective. Good stuff! The same collegial spirit that filled the rehearsal carried over to lunch at the diner about ten of us walked to. They were surprised I wanted to eat dosai and uttapam rather than some kind of fried rice or Chinese noodles (not knowing I had spent a little time here before), and they were also amused I wanted to have a glass of steamed milk as my “dessert.” They were interested in and concerned about the state of Christianity in America. I was surprised to find they were impressed with Bush and very worried about Obama, and I felt compelled to point out that in spite of Bush’s public statements and certain actions, Bush had done some things that did not strike me as the actions of a committed Christian. The choir director was talking about a quartet he sings with—they sing a lot of spirituals and other sacred music—that has toured many locations around the world, including an appearance some years back at the Chicago Gospel Fest on the lakefront. I said, so that’s how you know the gospel tradition so well, and can get your choir to sing spirituals so idiomatically! He said yes, but that as a youth he had also listened regularly to the jazz show on Voice of America radio. What fun to find such a person in India! After lunch we retired to private rooms (mine with A/C, I don’t know about the others!) for a nap in the heat of the day (and it was hot!). Afterward the choir reconvened to warm up, and then the service. It all started with contemporary praise songs accompanied by 2-3 guitars, electric bass, piano, and violin, led by the choir director himself. The choir sang 3 spirituals before the sermon, and another 2 afterwards. I got to sing with the one male chorus number I had rehearsed with them earlier, “Steal Away,” and since I stand out like a sore thumb, the director had to introduce me to the congregation before we sang. Lots of warm greetings afterwards, and then off for dinner at a local Christian restaurant that was showing a Michael W. Smith video on the big screen. They serve somewhat more American-style food, including chicken burgers, fries, milkshakes, lasagna, etc. (no Coke, Pepsi). I had been lamenting the lack of cheese in my diet just a day or earlier in a phone call to Virginia, and the lasagna sounded like just the thing. Not Italian, particularly, but it tasted very good. Just what the doctor ordered!
On Monday, I was again an honored guest, but this time at MCC, my current home away from home. Every year the philosophy department has an endowed guest lecture in honor of distinguished alumnus Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan, rather like Elmhurst’s annual Niebuhr lecture. Radhakrishan was a distinguished professor of philosophy at Oxford for many years, and then after independence, India’s first vice president and its second president (not the same as their first prime minister, Nehru, but that’s another story). A highly-respected philosopher from Kerala was brought in to speak on contemporary views of the nature of consciousness, one of the thorniest areas of inquiry in all of philosophy. Well, Dr. Gabriel decided to honor me as well by inviting me to preside over the lecture. This meant providing very brief remarks at the beginning (following a host of other speakers providing words of introduction and felicitation) and serving as a respondent at the end. While I very much appreciated the honor, I certainly felt as though I was in way over my head! When it was my turn to speak, I said as much, and at the last minute was inspired to use a quote I had read while prepping for the event.
Gandhi and Radhakrishnan often worked together, and Radhakrishnan often deferred to the great man’s wishes. One day Gandhiji decided enough was enough, since he very much wanted Radhakrishnan’s full input, so he said to his friend, “I am your Arjuna, and you are my Krishna!” This is a reference to the Bhagavad-Gita, where the soldier Arjuna surveys the battlefield just before the battle is to begin. He questions why he should even bother—there will be much killing and death, and he has many family members on both sides of the battlefield. The god Krishna appears to Arjuna to explain the nature of existence and the importance of dharma (duty, but understood more broadly). At the very end, to put any lingering doubts to rest, Krishna appears in his cosmic form, and Arjuna has a terrifying, humbling vision of Krishna in all times and all places (their conversation has striking parallels to Job’s talk with God at the end of the Old Testament book of Job). In other words, Gandhi was a mere servant next to Radhakrishnan’s godlike presence.
Well that certainly described my feelings at that moment, so I used the quote … and got a good response! As expected, it was a difficult talk. Thank goodness Gabriel suggested I do a little advance reading on the topic. Even so, I couldn’t come up with anything very detailed as a respondent, something they would expect here. I said something about feeling like Arjuna after experiencing the cosmic Krishna—later I realized I should have said, “You are still my Krishna, but now I am only the horse pulling Arjuna’s chariot!” Thankfully, Gabriel came to the rescue and took on the role of respondent for me. The guest speaker, Dr. Kanthamani, must have appreciated what I did say, though. We had a very nice conversation afterward and then over the lunch table with other philosophy faculty members. Not a flawless performance on my part, but good to have had the experience … and another good dose of the Indian love for ceremony!
Changes are afoot at the International Guest House (IGH), too. Just last week I saw a new fellow at the guest house, and before I had too much chance to wonder what he was doing there, he introduces himself as Pravin, the new housekeeper. It was his first day on the job, and he had just left a job at the Hotel Meridien, one of the really ritzy Western-style hotels here in Chennai (and around the world). I gather MCC wanted someone with experience in the hospitality industry to supervise things at the IGH and create a more welcoming climate, especially for Western guests. So far, so good. When they changed my bed linens today, he showed Benjamin how to put on both a bottom sheet AND a top sheet! (On previous visits it’s been a bottom sheet and a thin blanket only.) And he even showed Benjamin how to turn down the top sheet at an angle like they do at the fancy hotels! I’ll know we’ve really arrived when I see a mint on my pillow as well!! Today I came home from tea in the staff room to find Benjamin washing the numerous windows on the east and south walls of the IGH dining room. The place really sparkled! By the time Lynn and I return with students at New Year’s, we may not recognize the place. Best of all, Pravin is a really nice fellow … and his English is excellent. Now I can make my needs known without always pestering my friends on the faculty.
And in the meantime, prep work to do for two lectures in an English department postcolonial literature course taught by good friend Nirmal Selvamony—one on post-slavery African-American music (with emphasis on the blues), the other on Caribbean music (he wants reggae, and that will require some scrambling on my part). More on that later!
On Monday, I was again an honored guest, but this time at MCC, my current home away from home. Every year the philosophy department has an endowed guest lecture in honor of distinguished alumnus Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan, rather like Elmhurst’s annual Niebuhr lecture. Radhakrishan was a distinguished professor of philosophy at Oxford for many years, and then after independence, India’s first vice president and its second president (not the same as their first prime minister, Nehru, but that’s another story). A highly-respected philosopher from Kerala was brought in to speak on contemporary views of the nature of consciousness, one of the thorniest areas of inquiry in all of philosophy. Well, Dr. Gabriel decided to honor me as well by inviting me to preside over the lecture. This meant providing very brief remarks at the beginning (following a host of other speakers providing words of introduction and felicitation) and serving as a respondent at the end. While I very much appreciated the honor, I certainly felt as though I was in way over my head! When it was my turn to speak, I said as much, and at the last minute was inspired to use a quote I had read while prepping for the event.
Gandhi and Radhakrishnan often worked together, and Radhakrishnan often deferred to the great man’s wishes. One day Gandhiji decided enough was enough, since he very much wanted Radhakrishnan’s full input, so he said to his friend, “I am your Arjuna, and you are my Krishna!” This is a reference to the Bhagavad-Gita, where the soldier Arjuna surveys the battlefield just before the battle is to begin. He questions why he should even bother—there will be much killing and death, and he has many family members on both sides of the battlefield. The god Krishna appears to Arjuna to explain the nature of existence and the importance of dharma (duty, but understood more broadly). At the very end, to put any lingering doubts to rest, Krishna appears in his cosmic form, and Arjuna has a terrifying, humbling vision of Krishna in all times and all places (their conversation has striking parallels to Job’s talk with God at the end of the Old Testament book of Job). In other words, Gandhi was a mere servant next to Radhakrishnan’s godlike presence.
Well that certainly described my feelings at that moment, so I used the quote … and got a good response! As expected, it was a difficult talk. Thank goodness Gabriel suggested I do a little advance reading on the topic. Even so, I couldn’t come up with anything very detailed as a respondent, something they would expect here. I said something about feeling like Arjuna after experiencing the cosmic Krishna—later I realized I should have said, “You are still my Krishna, but now I am only the horse pulling Arjuna’s chariot!” Thankfully, Gabriel came to the rescue and took on the role of respondent for me. The guest speaker, Dr. Kanthamani, must have appreciated what I did say, though. We had a very nice conversation afterward and then over the lunch table with other philosophy faculty members. Not a flawless performance on my part, but good to have had the experience … and another good dose of the Indian love for ceremony!
Changes are afoot at the International Guest House (IGH), too. Just last week I saw a new fellow at the guest house, and before I had too much chance to wonder what he was doing there, he introduces himself as Pravin, the new housekeeper. It was his first day on the job, and he had just left a job at the Hotel Meridien, one of the really ritzy Western-style hotels here in Chennai (and around the world). I gather MCC wanted someone with experience in the hospitality industry to supervise things at the IGH and create a more welcoming climate, especially for Western guests. So far, so good. When they changed my bed linens today, he showed Benjamin how to put on both a bottom sheet AND a top sheet! (On previous visits it’s been a bottom sheet and a thin blanket only.) And he even showed Benjamin how to turn down the top sheet at an angle like they do at the fancy hotels! I’ll know we’ve really arrived when I see a mint on my pillow as well!! Today I came home from tea in the staff room to find Benjamin washing the numerous windows on the east and south walls of the IGH dining room. The place really sparkled! By the time Lynn and I return with students at New Year’s, we may not recognize the place. Best of all, Pravin is a really nice fellow … and his English is excellent. Now I can make my needs known without always pestering my friends on the faculty.
And in the meantime, prep work to do for two lectures in an English department postcolonial literature course taught by good friend Nirmal Selvamony—one on post-slavery African-American music (with emphasis on the blues), the other on Caribbean music (he wants reggae, and that will require some scrambling on my part). More on that later!
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