February 17 - 18, 2006 - Mamallapuram
February 17, 2006
We arrived in Mamallapuram mid-afternoon. The UNESCO World Heritage Site of Mamallapuram was once a major port city, built in the 7th century by the Pallava king, Narasimha Varman I, known as the “Great Wrestler.” This spectacular place is situated on the Bay of Bengal and extends across a boulder-strewn landscape and consists of rock-cut caves and monolithic shrines, structural temples and huge bas-reliefs. The stone-carving tradition that created these amazing wonders is still alive in the many workshops scattered around the town.
We were staying at the Mamalla Heritage Hotel, a nice hotel with a friendly staff. My room was air conditioned, though the A/C unit put out only minimally cool air. I was feeling sticky, so I decided a nice, warm shower was in order, despite the heat. I turned on the hot (YAY!) water, peeled off my grimy clothes and stepped into the small shower stall. After I soaped up, washed my hair and rinsed myself off, I just stood for a minute enjoying the feel of the warm spray on my body. It didn’t last long as the water quickly started to turn cool, so I emerged from the shower into the now steamy bathroom. I dried off and was reaching to retrieve my glasses, which I had laid on the top of the toilet tank during my wash, when I just happened to glance into the toilet and saw something that I knew shouldn’t be there. Upon closer inspection, I deduced that there was a small octopus lying at the bottom of my toilet! I was, to say the least, somewhat freaked out!
I put on my glasses, hastily dressed and swiftly made my way to the hotel reception area, where I told Rushad, the young man behind the desk, that there was an animal in my toilet and that I thought it was an octopus. Rushad knew just enough English to figure out that there was something wrong with my toilet, so he grabbed two of his co-workers and they all followed me to my room. I’m sure they were all thinking that I was some kinda crazy American woman! I led them into the bathroom, where we all stood and stared at the “creature” laying in the bottom of my toilet. Rushad and the other men then commenced conversing loudly among themselves in Hindi, looking closely and pointing into the toilet while periodically glancing at me. After a couple minutes of this, Rushad looked at me and, in his sing-song Indian lilt, said, “Watchie watchie,” while bobbing his head from side to side. Thinking this was the Indian word for whatever was sitting at the bottom of my toilet, I gestured questionably with my hands and shrugged my shoulders. Rushad repeated, “Watchie watchie.” I bent my head over the toilet bowl and looked intently at the strange animal, but I still couldn’t figure out what Rushad was saying. Turning to look at Rushad, he once more repeated, “Watchie watchie,” but this time he also tapped his left wrist. I was looking back and forth at his wrist and mine, when it suddenly dawned on me that the “creature” sitting in the bottom of the toilet was my WATCH! Not one to be embarrassed, I burst out laughing, and the others promptly followed. Rushad quickly reached into the toilet, pulled out my gold watch and handed it to me. None the worse for the wear, it was still working. (Gotta love a Timex!) I dried it off and put it on. For the next 24 hours, whenever I came across someone working at the hotel, they looked at me and chuckled while pointing at their wrist saying, “Watchie watchie.” Hilarious!!
Okay, so you’re probably asking yourself how I could mistake a watch for an 8-legged octopus. All I can say is that the way my watch was situated in the toilet in such a way, the steaminess of the bathroom after my shower and my poor vision, it really did look like an octopus to me!
We were staying at the Mamalla Heritage Hotel, a nice hotel with a friendly staff. My room was air conditioned, though the A/C unit put out only minimally cool air. I was feeling sticky, so I decided a nice, warm shower was in order, despite the heat. I turned on the hot (YAY!) water, peeled off my grimy clothes and stepped into the small shower stall. After I soaped up, washed my hair and rinsed myself off, I just stood for a minute enjoying the feel of the warm spray on my body. It didn’t last long as the water quickly started to turn cool, so I emerged from the shower into the now steamy bathroom. I dried off and was reaching to retrieve my glasses, which I had laid on the top of the toilet tank during my wash, when I just happened to glance into the toilet and saw something that I knew shouldn’t be there. Upon closer inspection, I deduced that there was a small octopus lying at the bottom of my toilet! I was, to say the least, somewhat freaked out!
I put on my glasses, hastily dressed and swiftly made my way to the hotel reception area, where I told Rushad, the young man behind the desk, that there was an animal in my toilet and that I thought it was an octopus. Rushad knew just enough English to figure out that there was something wrong with my toilet, so he grabbed two of his co-workers and they all followed me to my room. I’m sure they were all thinking that I was some kinda crazy American woman! I led them into the bathroom, where we all stood and stared at the “creature” laying in the bottom of my toilet. Rushad and the other men then commenced conversing loudly among themselves in Hindi, looking closely and pointing into the toilet while periodically glancing at me. After a couple minutes of this, Rushad looked at me and, in his sing-song Indian lilt, said, “Watchie watchie,” while bobbing his head from side to side. Thinking this was the Indian word for whatever was sitting at the bottom of my toilet, I gestured questionably with my hands and shrugged my shoulders. Rushad repeated, “Watchie watchie.” I bent my head over the toilet bowl and looked intently at the strange animal, but I still couldn’t figure out what Rushad was saying. Turning to look at Rushad, he once more repeated, “Watchie watchie,” but this time he also tapped his left wrist. I was looking back and forth at his wrist and mine, when it suddenly dawned on me that the “creature” sitting in the bottom of the toilet was my WATCH! Not one to be embarrassed, I burst out laughing, and the others promptly followed. Rushad quickly reached into the toilet, pulled out my gold watch and handed it to me. None the worse for the wear, it was still working. (Gotta love a Timex!) I dried it off and put it on. For the next 24 hours, whenever I came across someone working at the hotel, they looked at me and chuckled while pointing at their wrist saying, “Watchie watchie.” Hilarious!!
Okay, so you’re probably asking yourself how I could mistake a watch for an 8-legged octopus. All I can say is that the way my watch was situated in the toilet in such a way, the steaminess of the bathroom after my shower and my poor vision, it really did look like an octopus to me!
February 18, 2006
Boy, was it ever hot in Mamallapuram. . . over 100⁰. The heat was very hard to cope with. If we did not constantly drink water, we would quickly get dehydrated and sick. So far, though, everyone in my little party had been okay.
Despite the heat, we all woke early to go explore the many wonderful sights of Mamallapuram. We walked a short way down the street to a bicycle shop where you can guess what we did next. Yeppers! Each of my fellow travelers and I climbed onto a bike and away we went. Almost immediately I was dripping with sweat and felt overheated, so I opened my bottle of water. Thank goodness a liter of bottled water in India costs only 10 or 20 rupees, the equivalent of 20 to 45 cents U.S. With this heat, however, I was going through an average of one liter of water an hour.
Our first stop this morning was a Hindu temple. As required, we removed our shoes and entered this holy place. It felt like I was walking into a blast furnace! The heat inside the temple was unbearable, and the air was stifling. It had to be at least 20 degrees hotter inside than outside. Already soaked with perspiration from my bike ride, I couldn’t fathom how it was possible that I could get any soggier, but somehow my pores managed to pump out even more sweat! After a couple of minutes, I felt like I was going to pass out. I could see daylight at the far end of the temple, so I made a beeline for the light. This part of the temple was open to the outdoors, but there was a large chain link fence blocking a person from actually stepping outside. There was, however, a slight breeze coming through the barrier, so I stood there with my face pressed up against the chain link to catch the warm puffs of air; it didn’t help. Not being able to stand the heat another moment, I turned and staggered back to the front of the temple and exited. Never had 100⁰ felt so welcome!
[I suffer tremendously from the heat. Back in 1996 or ‘97, I took a group of Cub Scouts to Philadelphia on what just happened to be the hottest day the “city of brotherly love” had experienced in years. We spent about 10 hours traipsing through Philly. By the time we made our way to the train station in the late afternoon for our return trip home, I had a horrific headache and was feeling nauseous. I spent the next two hours in the train bathroom alternating between throwing up and lying on the floor, my head pounding the entire time. It turned out that I had suffered heat exhaustion, which subsequently messed up my body’s internal thermometer. Now I cannot tolerate heat or humidity very well, and I become overheated very easily.]
Before I made my hasty exit from the temple, however, I did listen to our guide tell a very interesting story about the Hindu god Shiva and his consort, Parvati. The story goes that after Shiva and Parvati married, they made love day and night. The other gods were afraid that if Shiva and Parvati had a child, the offspring would have unbelievable powers, so the god of fire prevented Shiva from being able to complete the sexual act, thereby preventing Parvati from becoming pregnant. Parvati, hoping to give Shiva a son, was so enraged that she put a curse on the wives of the gods that they would never be able to have children. Shiva then placed his semen in the god of fire, rather than in Parvati, imputing the ritual act of throwing an offering of butter into the consecrated fire that carries the offering to the gods.
And so, at this particular temple, barren women hoping to have a child make offerings to Parvati by throwing butter – in the form of butterballs – onto a large statue of her in the hopes that their offerings will appease her and allow them to get pregnant. Thus, the statue of Parvati was literally covered with greasy trails of butter, and the heat made the whole area stink with the rancid smell of spoiled butter.
Despite the heat, we all woke early to go explore the many wonderful sights of Mamallapuram. We walked a short way down the street to a bicycle shop where you can guess what we did next. Yeppers! Each of my fellow travelers and I climbed onto a bike and away we went. Almost immediately I was dripping with sweat and felt overheated, so I opened my bottle of water. Thank goodness a liter of bottled water in India costs only 10 or 20 rupees, the equivalent of 20 to 45 cents U.S. With this heat, however, I was going through an average of one liter of water an hour.
Our first stop this morning was a Hindu temple. As required, we removed our shoes and entered this holy place. It felt like I was walking into a blast furnace! The heat inside the temple was unbearable, and the air was stifling. It had to be at least 20 degrees hotter inside than outside. Already soaked with perspiration from my bike ride, I couldn’t fathom how it was possible that I could get any soggier, but somehow my pores managed to pump out even more sweat! After a couple of minutes, I felt like I was going to pass out. I could see daylight at the far end of the temple, so I made a beeline for the light. This part of the temple was open to the outdoors, but there was a large chain link fence blocking a person from actually stepping outside. There was, however, a slight breeze coming through the barrier, so I stood there with my face pressed up against the chain link to catch the warm puffs of air; it didn’t help. Not being able to stand the heat another moment, I turned and staggered back to the front of the temple and exited. Never had 100⁰ felt so welcome!
[I suffer tremendously from the heat. Back in 1996 or ‘97, I took a group of Cub Scouts to Philadelphia on what just happened to be the hottest day the “city of brotherly love” had experienced in years. We spent about 10 hours traipsing through Philly. By the time we made our way to the train station in the late afternoon for our return trip home, I had a horrific headache and was feeling nauseous. I spent the next two hours in the train bathroom alternating between throwing up and lying on the floor, my head pounding the entire time. It turned out that I had suffered heat exhaustion, which subsequently messed up my body’s internal thermometer. Now I cannot tolerate heat or humidity very well, and I become overheated very easily.]
Before I made my hasty exit from the temple, however, I did listen to our guide tell a very interesting story about the Hindu god Shiva and his consort, Parvati. The story goes that after Shiva and Parvati married, they made love day and night. The other gods were afraid that if Shiva and Parvati had a child, the offspring would have unbelievable powers, so the god of fire prevented Shiva from being able to complete the sexual act, thereby preventing Parvati from becoming pregnant. Parvati, hoping to give Shiva a son, was so enraged that she put a curse on the wives of the gods that they would never be able to have children. Shiva then placed his semen in the god of fire, rather than in Parvati, imputing the ritual act of throwing an offering of butter into the consecrated fire that carries the offering to the gods.
And so, at this particular temple, barren women hoping to have a child make offerings to Parvati by throwing butter – in the form of butterballs – onto a large statue of her in the hopes that their offerings will appease her and allow them to get pregnant. Thus, the statue of Parvati was literally covered with greasy trails of butter, and the heat made the whole area stink with the rancid smell of spoiled butter.
Back on our bikes, we rode to Arjuna’s Penance, an incredibly large (about 50 feet high and 100 feet long) and extraordinary relief carving on the face of a huge rock. In the middle of the rock is a natural vertical fracture, which the sculptor used to symbolize India's most holy river, the Ganges. The relief, also known as the Descent of the Ganges, depicts the story of the sacred river’s descent from the heavens. The elaborate carving, done out of solid rock, dates back to the 7th century, and portrays animals, deities and other semi-divine creatures from the Hindu Panchatantrabooks, a collection of ancient Indian animal fables. All of the carved figures are shown facing the rock fissure in stances of worship. On the left side of the cleft is carved a small shrine showing the god, Shiva, who was responsible for the Ganges descent, standing, with Bhagiratha bowing before him. Above the temple, the emaciated Arjuna, one of the best archers and a superior warrior in the Mahabharata, one of two Sanskrit epic poems of ancient India (the other being the Ramayana), is shown balanced on one leg with his arms raised doing penance, which in the Hindu religion does not mean repentance, but rather a gaining of power over the gods. Arjuna’s motive was to gain possession of Shiva’s sword in order to destroy his enemies. On the other side of the cleft are carvings of two almost life-sized elephants and a sleeping baby elephant. A cat amusingly imitates the ascetic posture of Arjuna, with mice at the cat’s feet. Nearby are remarkably realistic carvings of deer, a monkey plucking fleas from its mate and a deer scratching its nose.
We parked our bikes and started walking up a gently rising stone escarpment toward a lone, round boulder as big as a small house. As we got nearer, I noticed the boulder’s precarious position and wondered how it didn’t just roll down the hill. Really—it looked like one little push and the whole thing would come barreling down the hill, crushing everything and everyone in its path. However, several elephants were once used in an attempt to dislodge it, but it would not budge; it is immovable. Krishna’s Butter Ball, as the monstrosity is called, got its name because in Hindu mythology Lord Krishna had an unquenchable appetite for butter (here’s that butter theme again!), and as a child he would often steal a handful from his mother’s butter jar. Hence, the huge boulder represents a hunk of butter.
Actually, one of the most remarkable things about Krishna’s Butter Ball was the small tribe of about a dozen goats that had taken refuge from the sun in the minimal shade provided by the boulder. (Yes, a bunch of goats is, indeed, called a “tribe.”) Some were standing, but most were lazily laying in the shade provided by the rock.
Once we had finished gawking at the giant butter ball and goats, we continued along the escarpment into a rocky, hilly area consisting of meandering trails up and down the slopes leading to a large number of “cave temples,” Hindu temples that had been carved into massive rocks. While exploring this area, we came upon a recently deceased dog lying on the side of one of the trails. Not wanting Betty to see it, I diverted her attention elsewhere until we were past the poor dead pooch.
Many times during my travels in India I came upon prostrate bodies laying on the ground out in the middle of nowhere. At first I always thought that I was seeing a dead person, but I soon discovered that many Indians – almost always men – just stop and lay down to sleep wherever they happen to be. So these bodies I was coming upon were actually live human beings just zonked out with sleep.
Many times during my travels in India I came upon prostrate bodies laying on the ground out in the middle of nowhere. At first I always thought that I was seeing a dead person, but I soon discovered that many Indians – almost always men – just stop and lay down to sleep wherever they happen to be. So these bodies I was coming upon were actually live human beings just zonked out with sleep.
We explored the Pallava cave temples, some of them dating back to the 7th century. Simple and plainly adorned, they were all fairly small, but fascinating nevertheless. While at the most notable one – Varaha – we came across a group of school children on an outing. The large group of students, all dressed in their green uniforms, were sitting on the ground in a circle enjoying lunch. They were so excited to see us that a minor riot seemed possible. Their adult chaperones appeared to be as equally eager to interact with us, so the children were permitted to break rank. They jumped up, ran over to us and started asking all kinds of questions. My somewhat smaller group of friends stopped and chatted with them for a little while, also taking advantage of the photo opportunity thus provided.
Next stop was the Five Rathas, a set of five freestanding monolithic rock temples located in a large sandy patch of ground encompassing an area about the size of a football field. Carved in the 7th century, each of the small temples is sculpted of rock, cut from one continuous granite outcropping. Each spectacular temple resembles a chariot, which in Hindi is ratha, and is associated with one of the characters in the “Mahabharata,” an epic ancient Sanskrit poem dealing mainly with the conflict between two rival families, the Pandavas and the Kauravas, and containing the notable Bhagavad-Gita. However, none of the temples was ever finished, so they were never consecrated or used for worship. In addition to the five temples, there are three large animal sculptures—an elephant, a lion, and a bull—all carved from monolithic rock.
When we arrived, the site was crawling with people, most of them children. It looked, once again, like many schools had arranged field trips to the Five Rathas for their students, and, just like at the Pallava cave temples we had visited earlier in the day, most of these children were wearing school uniforms. They seemed to be completely unsupervised and, consequently, acting like typical mischievous children will when there are no adults in authority around to stop them, were running around the temple complex kicking up sand and dust and climbing onto the rathas and animal sculptures. It was annoying for two reasons: 1) they were running into people, and 2) they could damage the ancient structures, though, if one really thinks about it they’ve already stood for over a thousand years without being destroyed. That’s quite a testament to their sturdiness.
Suddenly, as if some silent bell rang, the temple complex cleared out! All of the school children departed, and the only people left were a few dozen Indians, my traveling companions and me. What joy! I leisurely explored the temples undisturbed. I marveled at the scenes from the Mahabharata intricately carved into the granite façades. I walked inside the temples where the air was significantly cooler than outside.
As I wandered around the temple complex, I began to notice a repeating sound--maa, maa. As it progressively got more intense, I became curious as to what the racket was about. I followed the sound and soon discovered a mother goat frantically running back and forth outside the fence that surrounded the Five Rathas complex, while her tiny baby goat (called a kid) ran back and forth along the inside of the fence. It seemed that the nanny goat’s baby somehow had become trapped inside the temple complex and could not get out. There were several Indians sympathetically observing this sad scene, but no one was doing anything. With momma goat bleating loudly and appearing more distraught by the second, I realized I had to do something. I think the little kid must have been worn out from its ordeal because it did not put up any resistance when I walked over to it, picked it up and lifted it over the fence to its waiting mother. After a quick nuzzle, momma and baby trotted off without even a glance back at me. I was quite pleased that I was able to help, and apparently many other people felt the same way. As soon as the goats were on their way, I heard clapping behind me. I turned around and saw several groups of people, including my traveling companions, applauding my successful efforts to reunite the little family. It seemed that I was the hero of the day, thank you very much!
Still blistering hot, we climbed back on our bicycles and rode to the area of Mamallapuram where the stone carvers are located. I was so grateful that the long street housing these craftsmen was lined with large trees, creating a most welcome shady covering under which I rode. On one side of the street were stone carving establishments, each one presenting its wares on the large outdoor dirt "patio" in front of its shop. Most items displayed were related to the Hindu religion, from minute elephants carved from marble to bigger-than-life Hindu gods sculpted from granite. Craftsmen wearing lungis either sat or squatted on the ground chiseling away at what would soon become carved deities.
Still blistering hot, we climbed back on our bicycles and rode to the area of Mamallapuram where the stone carvers are located. I was so grateful that the long street housing these craftsmen was lined with large trees, creating a most welcome shady covering under which I rode. On one side of the street were stone carving establishments, each one presenting its wares on the large outdoor dirt "patio" in front of its shop. Most items displayed were related to the Hindu religion, from minute elephants carved from marble to bigger-than-life Hindu gods sculpted from granite. Craftsmen wearing lungis either sat or squatted on the ground chiseling away at what would soon become carved deities.
On the other side of the street were groups of
carvers sitting under thatched roofs. Whether they were independent craftsmen or overflow carvers from
the other side of the street, I couldn’t tell, but these artisans were carving
much smaller statues than their fellow carvers across the street.
As I stood watching one of the men meticulously chip away at what was looking like some kind of Hindu deity, I heard a commotion. Being ever inquisitive (some would call it being nosy!), I turned to see several men pulling a large statue of Ganesh down the lane by a rope tied around the elephant god’s neck and using four logs as rollers. There was a lot of yelling and gesturing as the comical (to me) scene unfolded. It was a very slow process, one I was sure would end disastrously. But, much to my surprise, Ganesh continued to slowly make his way down the street all in one piece. Whether he made it to his final destination intact, I will never know.
Leaving the comfort of the shade, I hopped back on my bike and headed toward my next stop: the Shore Temple, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Aptly named since it is located smack dab on the shore of the Bay of Bengal, it was built in the early eighth century out of blocks of granite. The Shore Temple is actually three temples, or shrines, that are built on one platform. The five-story main temple, as well as a smaller temple, is dedicated to the deity Shiva. The third temple, which is located between the two Shiva shrines, is dedicated to Vishnu.
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Because of its location, the Shore Temple was affected by the tsunami that was a result of the major earthquake in the Indian Ocean on December 26, 2004. During the tsunami as the water receded from the temple complex, several structures believed to be an ancient city and part of another temple were uncovered. But once the water returned, they were again covered by sea. However, a small cluster of long-buried sculptures – an elaborately carved elephant head, a horse and a lion – remained. It was a little thrilling to know that I was standing on the exact spot where the tsunami hit and to see first-hand the effects of it.
Back at the hotel, I got word via an email from my mom back in the U.S. that my sister Susan’s cat, Natousha, had to be euthanized this morning. My parents had been taking care of elderly Natousha for the past couple months in anticipation of my sister moving back to America from Germany a couple weeks after our India trip was over. Since I was the one to receive the email, I passed the news onto Susan, and she was very upset, as we all knew she would be. She was feeling guilty that she was not there for Natousha, but I tried to console her as much as possible. It was hard, however, because she was so sad. Natousha's life was definitely prolonged by being in the U.S. with my parents (instead of Germany), and at least that gave Susan some comfort.
Email
This message is for Susan. We have some sad news. Natousha took a turn for the worst on Wednesday. She would not eat and had trouble walking. We tried for 2 days to get her to eat, opening many different cans of cat food, but she wouldn't have any part of it. She finally got to the point where her back legs would no longer support her. However, through all this, she never seemed to be in pain. We kept giving her infusions but we could see she was getting weaker and weaker. She got to the point where she no longer went to the bathroom and so we took her to the Vet this morning. After examining her and observing how weak she was, Dr. Neville said her kidneys were so bad that it would be best to put her to sleep. She was not in pain and I said goodbye to her for you. Please be thankful that she had such a good life with you and that we took excellent care of her these past 2 months or so. We'll miss her very much and I have her resting in my freezer until you get home and we can find a nice spot to put her to rest. I hope this news doesn't put a damper on your trip and we want you to have a wonderful trip and just think of all the good times you spent with Natousha. We love you all pray that you have a safe and good trip. Love, Mom and Dad
This news was heartbreaking for Susan and she was quite distraught. She asked to be left alone so that she could be with her thoughts, so we had dinner without her. We then loaded up in taxis to head to the Chennai railway station for the overnight train ride to Mysore.
NEXT: MYSORE
This message is for Susan. We have some sad news. Natousha took a turn for the worst on Wednesday. She would not eat and had trouble walking. We tried for 2 days to get her to eat, opening many different cans of cat food, but she wouldn't have any part of it. She finally got to the point where her back legs would no longer support her. However, through all this, she never seemed to be in pain. We kept giving her infusions but we could see she was getting weaker and weaker. She got to the point where she no longer went to the bathroom and so we took her to the Vet this morning. After examining her and observing how weak she was, Dr. Neville said her kidneys were so bad that it would be best to put her to sleep. She was not in pain and I said goodbye to her for you. Please be thankful that she had such a good life with you and that we took excellent care of her these past 2 months or so. We'll miss her very much and I have her resting in my freezer until you get home and we can find a nice spot to put her to rest. I hope this news doesn't put a damper on your trip and we want you to have a wonderful trip and just think of all the good times you spent with Natousha. We love you all pray that you have a safe and good trip. Love, Mom and Dad
This news was heartbreaking for Susan and she was quite distraught. She asked to be left alone so that she could be with her thoughts, so we had dinner without her. We then loaded up in taxis to head to the Chennai railway station for the overnight train ride to Mysore.
NEXT: MYSORE