2/12/06: Dravid and the Goliaths and Smart Experiments

South India is the land of the Dravidians, the original residents of the subcontinent, driven out of their homes in the north by invading Aryans, and living in a climate resembling Miami Beach. We suspect this similarity between Jews and America’s 21st century Jews (Indians) is no mere coincidence. Their shared historical roots are also evident in the many Jewish words used in Hindi--so far, we had visited Hindu “temples,” met a Punam, heard about prayers and Shiva, and were about to see festive purams. Prabha and Rick wear the same size shoes and suits and exhibit the same photographic obsession…hmmmm.

We awoke at dawn, walked out the back door of our villa, past the hammock and palm trees, inhaled the fresh sea breeze, and watched the sun rise and light up the Bay of Bengal. Who needs sleep when the sun provides so much early-morning energy? Following a breakfast of yummy dhosas and juicy sweet papaya, we were picked up by Ramachandran and Dhruva, a local lawyer and part-time guide. The seaside and inland scenery on our two-hour ride to Kanchipuram showed us a whole new face of India. Along the way, we stopped to shoot the locals—fish merchants, workers in rice paddies, women outside their small village huts, and young children at play in the fields.

We visited two of the five impressive Dravidian temples in Kanchipuram. The first, a marvel of 16th century architecture, was an impressive complex containing a 59 meter gopuram (towering entry gate), halls lined with carved columns, 47 brightly colored “chariots” scattered amongst the pillars, more than 1,008 lingums (phallic shaped symbols of Shiva) along the walls, and a series of shrines to the Shiva family, including the sacred inner sanctum (off limits for non-Hindus), containing a bare-chested priest and a four foot long, black, 16-sided lingum. As we roamed the halls of the temple, Dhruva entertained us with fables about Shiva and his wife Parvathi, well represented in the temple’s carvings, and their tempestuous relationship, a cross between the War of the Roses and Mr. and Mrs. Smith. All of the stories have a similar theme. One angers the other, who throws a fit, does something stupid, feels remorse, and then performs some sort of retribution to bury the hatchet, at least temporarily. For example, we learned how Ganesh (their son) had lost his head after Shiva had lost HIS head in jealous rage, then promised Parvathi to replace the head with that of the next creature he saw, who, of course, turned out to be an elephant. If this sounds farfetched or confusing, a large, 14th century stone statue of the young god can be found in the back yard at 2428 Ewing. Our guide joked that many of the cities in South India are either male- or female-dominated, depending on whether their temples give precedence to Shiva or Parvathi (aka Meenakshi).

The second temple, a few kilometers across town, dates back to the 7th century, one of the earliest remaining masterpieces of Dravidian architecture. Facing a giant statue of a Brahmin Bull (Shiva’s transport vehicle of choice), and surrounded by a 6-foot sandstone decorative wall, most of the stone murals and 58 shrines are remarkably well-preserved replicas of bulls, elephants, and Hindu mythological tales and heros.

We headed back toward the seashore to visit another temple complex in Mahabalipuram, but first we stopped to snap a beautiful pastoral scene—men in loin cloths playing around in the mud—rice planting, of course. Along the way, we also learned more about the chief minister (governor) of Tamil Nadu, a rather matronly-looking woman whose saree-clad image is plastered (literally) all over the walls and billboards of the local landscape. An April election looms, and, like the Governator, Jayalalithaa is a former celluloid star, 30 years and 60 pounds earlier. Interestingly, she owes her political success to the dynastic nature of Indian politics (a la Indira Gandhi and her kids, who rode Mahatma’s coat tails, despite no blood relation). Jayalalithaa, it turns out, was the ex-mistress and screen co-star of the popular prior minister. Who knows, maybe our very own Lolita (aka Monica) has another future in the oval orifice.

The sprawling series of temple structures scattered around the coastal town of Mahabalipuram is a testament to the power of learning from smart experiments, as well as the timeless power of Mother Nature. We began our quest for the seaside temple with Rick saving hundreds of lives (.0000001% of the Indian population) by securing a giant boulder in place before it rolled down a hill and crushed innocent women, children, and chai stands. Dhruva then guided us through a series of temples, built in the 7th and 8th centuries, where all the king’s men tried out the full spectrum of architectural styles available at the time—monolithic (single rock), cave, bas relief, mortared stone carvings, dynamic gated entryways, and tiered structures. Many of these experiments were abandoned midway through construction, once the learning was completed. Others were magnificent temples on their own, including a number of carvings of Shiva and Parvathi stories and a reclining Vishnu (still searching for a sitting Shiva☺).

Our favorite site was the incredibly well-preserved, 10,000 square foot bas relief titled “Descent to the Ganges,” showing scenes and stories of daily life, elephants, warriors, and holy men, built so that rainfall collected above the relief and dripped down its walls to enhance the imagery. The final temple, incorporating the best of each technique, was located on a small mound, down by the shore, currently situated between two crowded beaches. The central tower and shrine, surrounded by bull statues, has remained intact through 1,467 monsoon seasons and the most recent tsunami, although the rain and sea have taken their toll on the carvings. In the end, smart experiments delivered man’s best, but mortals proved no match for Mother Nature.

Exhausted from a long day’s journey and the hot sun, we returned to our hotel to catch a few non-tsunami waves in the Bay of Bengal, and take a quick dip in the infinity pool. We ended our first day down south, with our first seafood dinner of the trip, barbequed bekti in Masala spice and seer curry, both delicious. “Southern Delights” was off to a great start.