I'm enamored with the smiles of the India people. G Adventures has managed to allow us to see a side of the country that I think is rarely viewed by foreigners. If the waving shop keepers and laughing children chasing our rickshaws is anything to go by, they are equally as happy to say hello to us as we are to them. Their smiling energy is infectious. I couldn't help but to wave back at all the school children we passed and all the pedestrians out for a walk. What started as a bike rickshaw tour through Madurai, India's fifth largest city, turned into a memorable event.
Sanjay took us on a walk around our hotel the previous evening, after driving 6 hours to Madurai, with a brief stop at the Ghandi Museum; where we learned the whole war history of India from the 1300's or so, to the East India Company's evil take over and slavery of the Indian people, to the mean British empire crushing the Indian people's rights, and eventual to Ghandi's inspirational theories of a peaceful protest to make India its own state and unite all the different religious sects. There was a lot packed into the small museum and much of it was Indian sided with slightly ambiguous facts on who did what. We had to ask Sanjay how Ghandi died because the museum just housed the shroud he wore when he died, complete with blood, but didn't explain how the blood got there. Apparently some disgruntled Hindi shot him, shouted two words about God,and then never said another word; later dying in prison.
Back to walking the streets the previous evening; we side stepped hordes of people awaiting massive buses that tried to kill us as they pulled to the curbs and numerous food stalls as mosquitos relentlessly drank our blood, undetered by the copious amounts of poisonous Deet slathered on our skin. We traveled down hospital row- at least six eerie, multistory buildings that might house a fair number of ghosts along with free medical help for all and lines of sick waiting inside. I'm not sure I want to go inside, unless it's to photograph what appears to be abandoned mental asylums from the outside, but is in fact, operating hospitals inside. We lasted about 45 minutes wandering through rush hour and being eaten alive before it held no interest for anyone anymore. No one was particularly impressed with the city that evening, but the next morning, it was revealed why we came to Madurai.
We visited the Thirumalai Nayakkar Mahal Palace in the morning, a structure that is 1/4th the size it used to be. It was worth it for the Chinese inspired Dragon carvings looking down at everyone who entered like cartoonish gargoyles and the numerous photogenic doors and windows. If only I had models to photograph, it would have been perfect. Moving on, we removed our shoes and walked barefooted through the largest and best looking Temple I've seen this whole trip. Meenakshi Amman Temple was built around the 6th century and every century or so, a new addition was added. This Temple is unique because every other Temple in India is built to honor the male Gods. This Temple honors mainly Shiva - the Destroyer and his wife, Pavarthi (who also goes by Meenakshi) - the Goddess of Power. There are also mini temples inside the main Temple that honor the other two major Hindi Gods and their wives: Brahma - the Creator and his wife, Saraswati - Goddess of Education, plus Vishnu - the Protector and his wife, Lakshmi- goodness of Wealth.
There are seven massive towers that shoot straight into the sky and are situated at the main entrances of the Temple grounds - East, West, South, and North. The grounds more so resemble a mini city with modern day shops and food vendors inside, a reflecting pond, various statues that Hindu's give offerings to, and a museum housing artifacts they've unearthed from the grounds. Most of the reliefs and etchings tell stories of the beloved Gods and Goddesses. There is a festival once a year that draws millions to the site and reenacts the carriage ride of Shiva going around the Temple walls as well as some kind of love story between Shiva and his wife - them sleeping together for seven nights, and then something happening on the eighth night. It was a little confusing trying to understand our local guide and I mostly just got that people waited seven days while a God had sex and then the God did something nice for the people.
There are a lot of weird Hindu stories, but the one I thought was great was the Story of Pavarthi. She was born from fire ( created by her mother, some powerful Goddess) and had three breast, which was considered sacred and wonderful (probably not for Pavarthi herself, but more so for the men that saw her). Pavarthi was told that her third boob would vanish when she met the man she was to marry. Now Pavarthi was the protector of a village, but this was a village that Shiva wanted. So like any egotistical male God, he flew down to Earth and challenged Pavarthi for the town. The minute she saw Shiva, her third breast disappeared and so Pavarthi found the love of her life. Since Shiva got to marry Pavarthi, he inherited the town, therefore getting what he came to Earth for in the first place, along with a little something extra - a beautiful wife.
Two hours later and after vigorously scribbling the dirt and unmentionable sludge off the bottom of our feet, we all got to window shop. I think if it wasn't so heat-strokey out, I might have enjoyed seeing 100's of seemsters and seamstresses inside one of the old temple courtyards. Luckily we were allowed a mini reprieve of the sun by lunching in a local restaurant and chilling in our hotel room until the afternoon. When it was considerably less hot, we boarded bike riskshaws for a tour of Madurai. Robby and I were slightly worried at the start because our bike driver was an older looking gentleman that had the illusion of needing to ride in the back of the rickshaw inside of pedaling too curry stuffed sods around in 90 degree heat. We didn't want to give him a heart attack, but after he started to pedal us around without huffing and piffling and we got a good look at his skinny, but muscle toned calves, we weren't so worried.
This bike tour actually turned out to be amazing and a definite highlight of the whole India trip. Madurai didn't look like much, but then we'd only scratched the surface of its brilliance. We passed the creepy hospitals and hung a left when we'd stopped exploring the night before. Heading through back alleys and down narrow streets, we ended up in the heart of the city. Villagers who barely saw foreigner smiled and shyly waved while their children shouted with glee and waved with gusto as we drove past. It was heart warming to see their smiling faces and know we were the reason they had a moment of joy. I also got to practice drive by shooting...with a camera.
We stopped for a while to visited Rumpelstiltskin's abandoned lair - a weavers workshop that housed spider web covered pieces of weaving wheels and spools of colorful, dust covered yard. Between the sewing decay was an old man fitted between white strings attached to a seven-foot wheel. He wound the strings and moved between them like the Faiths of Time, intimately knowing which to pull or turn in time with the spinning of the wheel. Stepping outside, and back into about the early 20th century, we visited a local metal pot maker. He received three pieces of metal from a manufacturer and using fire, a hammer, and tongs, he melted them all together, hammering out the shape of urns, and polishing them to look like a machine created water jug. It was pretty amazing to watch and no doubt a skill to learn. I just feel sorry for the worker because his workshop had to have been 90 something degrees and South India is still entertaining the concept of "winter". I can't imagine how he stays conscious during the summer months with physical exertion and stiffing heat in a small room.
Our lovely bike driver picked us up again and rode to a banana market. Under the canopy of tarps and wooden majors, we encountered rows upon rows of bananas. India grows about 170 different types of bananas and this market held at least 30 different varieties. We got to taste a red banana, which taste like a typical banana and a plantain's baby. Stepping out of the shade of the banana market, I captured a few great pictures of vegetable sellers and their customers in the veggie market. This one happened to look very clean, the veggies sitting on mats and bags instead of the dirt floor.
The bike tour lasted about 3 1/2 hours, way longer then anyone expected and vastly different then what we had imagined, but in a good way. Where I thought an old man was going to pedal us into his grave and we'd see dirty streets, weave between honking cars, and never stop to explore, we saw the heart of the city and the joy of the people. Madurai is now a must go for any Tourist in Southern Indian.
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