16+17/01/12
The Dhan foundation runs free tours for foreign tourists to visit rural villages during the Pongal harvest Festival. I couldn't believe it really! So it was organised that another foreigner currently staying with Dhan in
Madurai, Eri, and I would go on these tours. Mr Bharathi, a co-ordinator for the tourism for development arm of Dhan insisted that Eri and I go along.
About a week ago I briefly met Eri, a Japanese post grad student, who is doing some research on the 'tank' systems with Dhan, which are the traditional method for communities to store water for drinking and irigation. She was staying in a very nice apartment rented by them for guests, so I was to stay with her.
First however on Saturday I was taken along with Nagarathinam to her home village. Another very warm welcome from her mother, sister and nephew. Her nephew, 7, was very outgoing and had a best friend who was very keen to try out their English on me. Which for children is always discussing their and my name, my 'native place', and each others father, mother sister and brothers names (with adults this extends to what each of these people do as well.) Them and and two younger accomplices, loved to play 'school' and went out in the sunshine. N.'s mother's back is very bad, but her neighbours are very kind and help her get food from the shops and clean the house. I was asked to have a look at her back, but it was too out of shape for me to have any effect with one treatment, with the three lower vertebrae protruding alot. So I asked whether she had tried a steroid injection to manage the pain, as well as suggesting a position to lie in with a hot water bottle. It feels very difficult to suggest these things, so many people here have pain, and the one's I've seen so far have been more extreme and chronic than what I see back home, and that's not counting the people on the street with incredibly twisted hips giving then a rolling walk. She'd had a steroid injection before in her shoulder, but didn't want to take them regularly because she feared kidney damage (Nagarathanim studies homeopathy part time). Always with the weighing of costs and benefits.
N. told me a bit about growing up here, for 16 years, all with the same friends and a garden near by. Her neighbours house was a large grand building originally for one family, but now the family's four brothers live in different wings sharing the courtyard and garden. It was such a lovely environment, lots of brothers sisters and cousins living together. Here, after introductions, the kids proceeded to decorate me! I was given a necklace, had mehendi (the skin dye) applied (spots on the palm and back, and the tips of the fingers), my hair redone and toenails re-varnished a vivid dark purple. Far more satisfying than light blue. After that another beautiful meal from a banana leaf and a gripping tamil TV drama, I got most of the more slapstick jokes :)
No, that isn't me.....
-MONEY MONEY MONEY-
It is very difficult for me that Nagarathinam matter of factly paid for my bus fares to Madurai (about 80NZ Cents for just underan hour) and her home village, the 'auto's' (rickshaws) inbetween, accompanied me back to Madurai and then travled back an hour to her home village all on her holiday. Also, breakfast out of her own money! When it is so cheap for me, and I imagine an expense for locals, I have waves of guilt and uncertainty about what to do. The time's I've offerred to pay or go halves have all been turned down, however I did insist on paying for dinner with N. that night. But to be honest I'm not sure if that was an insult or not, also when I tried to give her some money for bus fares afterwards.... Although her and Mr Khader have alot of experince with foreigners it mgiht still be seen as insulting, or mayeb I'm SUPPOSED to insist? I think I might have to clarify with someone at some point.
(since clarified, yes is insulting to insist to pay. oops)
So anyway, back to the Post topic :)
I feel so lucky to have spent my time here so far, as a guest with real families. Having the chance to talk to people and see their homes and receive their hospitality, in villages and in the city. So this was quite a different experience.
The first day Eri and I got up early and were picked up to go to the tourist office by Mr Bharathi, programme leader of the tourism for development arm of Dhan, and a driver in one of their jeeps. So with about 50 other European, English, American and Aussie tourists we were off. I was imaging lots of chatting and connecting with other tourists, but this wasn’t really the case. We got taken in the Jeep to the village, not sure why but totally felt like a VIP :p.
Into Thirumalpuram village, 12 km from Madurai. Out of the bus and into a party! Crowds of locals and us, with three musical troupes. One with this kind of dancing….
“Karagattam, one of the oldest versions of folk dance in Tamil Nadu, defines the quintessential art of praising the Goddesses with fine balancing of decorated pots. Performed to please the rain and river deities, the dance form is aesthetically tuned by musical instruments and songs. With decorated pots filled with water on their head, the Karagattam dancers move with the rhythm of the music. The uniqueness of this dance form lies in the dexterous handling of pots by the dancers”
These ladies were really……. How can I best describe?.... cool and groovy?! Oozing with style?! Definitely.
They kind of reminded me of modern African American style dancing with really rhythmical subtle body movements.
They danced to three drummers with a guy dancer in puffy satin pantaloons- a low and medium two skinned drum, and a smaller once skinned drum. Joining in were one or two horn/clarinet type instruments with which it sounded like you could charm a few snakes.
The music, again, really groovy.
*LOVE*
Another group of musicians with a similar make-up, and another troupe of about 8 male dancers, which were playing mostly the one skin drum (one with two shakers, one with the large two skin. This drum/dancing is….
Also, there were two bullock carts, especially for grandly and bumpily carting tourists.
So we were in a crowd, which was forming pretty tight circles around the groups; to get a good shot one had to tiptoe around the bullock dung with one’s camera held high and take a good guess. Or, quickly see an opening and scoot around. We followed the jostling procession, down a side street to an open concrete area with lines of older women stirring pongal in pots. Invited (dragged) over, Eri and I were snapped by the local newspaper throwing rice into the boiling water.
*FAMOUS!*
This rice throwing was followed by exultant ululation (again reminding me of Africa, but with the tongue going side to side I noticed) and stirring.
More Soon!
