Last words

I'm home. Arrived this morning. So much I didn't get to write about - eg last weekend's trip to Periyar National Park. The last days, the goodbyes, the leave taking etc.
I'm at that point that many travelers experience when they come home - not wanting to let go of the experience, tightly clinging to the journey with a fear of losing it if I loosen my grip, not knowing how to integrate it with being home, not wanting to be home (but also looking forward to some things, especially reconnecting with loved ones) I loved the whole event so much. I loved the learning and the living and the connecting and the loving that I did. I liked who I was while I was away, and I'm nervous about whether I'll get to access that person now that I'm home. We'll see. I know I will be back to Aranmula and VKV (God willing) in December, for yet another different experience (not the same)
As I expected, my beautiful new mridangam was taken from me at customs and will be sent to Melbourne to be gamma-rayed, so I don't know what condition it will be in when I get it back. I tried to argue - Subhashji told me that his student from Melbourne had no problem when he brought his mridangam home. But like last time with the tablas that I brought home, my mridangam and I were parted. I won't see it for 4 - 6 weeks. In the meantime, the one I have at home is in a very bad state and sounds like the kind of drum kindergarten children make when they attach a balloon to an icecream container. My tablas are not in good shape either, but I hope some work on them will fix them.
Anyway, all will be well.
I had been offered to be met at the airport but chose to arrive in my own space and get a taxi home. The cab driver was a Punjabi sikh and he had Bangara music playing in the car, so that was a fun arrival.
For the first time in all my traveling, I come home to my own house. That's definitely a good thing (though should I sell it and quit my job and go back to India? Just joking)

And so, the last words of this blog are not profound - I don't have the energy to make a profound synthesis of what it's all meant. Talk to me about it when you see/communicate with me.

Tabla Tony

Ayyappa pilgrims dance at Eremely

Ayyappa pilgrims to Sabarimala, if they do the full pilgrimage, have their last stop before Sabarimala itself at a town called Eremely. In the main street of the town are 3 important places for the pilgrims - at one end of the street is a temple at which the pilgrims bathe and pay respects. Then they adorn themselves with coloured powders all over the head, face, arms etc and dance up the street to drumming, sometimes also wearing masks and carrying assorted props. It's wild and manic - Paula from Rio said it reminded her of Carnival. At the other end of the street is another temple and also (interestingly) a mosque which is also a holy place for the Ayyappa pilgrims. As January draws on, the amount of pilgrims increases and the amount of dancing in the streets of Eremely also intensifies, causing traffic jams. Here is something of what it all looks like:

Some photos

My 2 closest friends at VKV - Leonore from France and Yossi from Israel. We made a great team - all 3 of us emotional refugees searching and hoping for wholeness and healing and direction. Leonore was here when I arrived and just left yesterday. She studied yoga and Carnatic singing. Yossi came 2 weeks after me and will leave 1 week after I leave. He is learning tabla and Hindi. We shared a house and our lives. I will miss them both very much, and hope that there's a way to connect with them in the future.



































Since these photos are from Yossi's collection, he is in most of them. Here he is with darling Paula from Rio, Brazil - she is a professional dancer with a gentle spirit and big heart. She was
learning kathakali.









And here Yossi is with Lucy from England. She is studying mridangam and Carnatic singing. She is an amazing flautist and has been teaching flute to Yossi, Leonore and me.









On the steps of Aranmula Krishna Temple - the 3 of us again, and Evelyn from Scotland. Evelyn and her partner Laurence were doing the 2 month intensive yoga course (along with Leonore) and then stayed afterwards, while Evelyn did Carnatic singing and cooking and Laurence continued with yoga and also woodcarving. Evelyn and Laurence joined with me in French lessons with Leonore. Also Evelyn joined with me and others in learning beautiful gypsy songs from Leonore. Evelyn sang and played guitar often and it was a delight to discover she loves Joni Mitchell. She and I sang "A Case of You" and she played the guitar so much like Joni it was amazing.











My tabla guru, Ashok, with his favourite students - Yossi and me.












Ashok and me with my dear friend Santosh, the Carnatic singing teacher.

My mridangam guru, Subhash

Subhash's wife, Manju, who is a singing teacher. She was a student of Santosh, so the connections are all very web-like

Meals at teachers houses and New Year

Ashok, my tabla teacher, with his wife and 2 daughters. Yossi (another tabla student) and I went to his house for dinner. They live in a rented house in Chennganur (12 kms from Aranmula) and he comes to Aranmula ervy day by bus. Their house is very simple. It's interesting that Ashok, a Keralan, chose to be a scholar of tabla, which is a North Indian instrument and part of the Hindustani music tradition. Keral, being in the south, is a part of the Carnatic music tradition and so the tabla is not used in classical music - the mridangam is. We have see "fusion" music here where tabla players are includeed with Carnatic music, but to play real Hindustani classical music Ashok would need to live in the north. He likes Carnatic music but his love is Hindustani. He started playing when he was 10 and at something like 14 he left home to go to the north and live with a tabla guru to learn.

I also went to my mridangam teacher's house for a meal the other day. Subhash also lives in Chengannur but he comes to Aranmula on his scooter. Subhash's wife is a singing teacher at VKV. They both also teach local Chengannur students in their home, so when we arrived at their place Manju was teaching singing to a group of little kids in one room and Subhash was teaching mridangam to little kids in another room. We met a 10 year old boy who has been learning mridangam from Subhash since he was 6, and he will have his arangetram (debut concert) next month.

New Years Eve was an enjoyable time with VKV students and staff. Some of us went to Khozencherry (the closest town) to have a drink first (no alcohol allowed on VKV premises) and then we had a party in one of the centre's houses. I led African singing and taught an African dance, and (as I did last time I was here) played plastic bucket drumming which was fun. This turned into a drumming circle with staff and students playing plastic buckets in a mix of African and Indian rhythms as well as the universal sound of people banging on plastic buckets. We also had various dances and songs and some bopping. Just before midnight we all sat in a circle (Indian, French, English, American, Dutch, Brazilian, Israeli, Australian) and took turns saying words which conveyed some kind of hope for the coming year. At midnight Swami (the yoga teacher) suggested that we do some "Om" chants, and he led us in that. It was a good wholsome event. Some of the students said it was their first New Years Eve without alcohol and NY day was their first time of starting a new year without a hangover. Indians don't celebrate new year (except young groovy people in Mumbai or Delhi who want to be like westerners) so there were no other parties going on in the village. Walking home at 2am through the village with my two closest friends and housemates here: Leonore (from France) and Yossi (from Israel) was a warm and heartfelt moment in a silent village under a beautiful starlit and moonlit sky. Beginnings of new beginnings at the beginning of a new year.

Rituals

41 days of Ayyappa Sabrimala fasting has finished. The Sabrimala temple is closed for 3 days while the authorities work out how to get rid of thousands of tons of rubbish, and then the temple opens again until late January. I think poor Lord Ayyappa also needs a rest!!
So here in Aranmula the end of season was celebrated with 2 days of non stop loud loud loud music being broadcast from the temple all around the village. All night. No sleep. Silence at last after 2 days, but in late January when it is the temple festival, the same thing will happen for 10 days non-stop. I won't be here (this is the one and only reason I can say "Thank God I won't be here"). Last time I left just before this happened, but some of my friends who are reading this blog (Nancy, Jaxan) were here 3 years ago for that 10 day hell and only just survived to tell the tale.
Another end of season celebration was much more beautiful. Not far from the temple some Aranmula citizens set up a beautiful puja. After 6pm there were literally thousands of small oil lamps lining a laneway - lamps in the middle of the pathway and on either side of the path. Also there were many jars of incense so that a walk down the laneway was a magical journey through beautiful lights and mist / aroma of incense. I can't describe how beautiful it looked, and even a photo would not do it justice. Down the lane, towards the river, this trail of light went, to a place near the riverside which is used for special events as a small temple. Here the local people gathered for puja. At the climax of the puja, the door to the holy of holies is opened and the faithful can see the idol inside. At the moment that this happened, there was a gigantic round of explosions from fireworks, and at the same time, hundreds of piles of parafin pellets were lit to create small fires dotted amongst all of the oil lamps. It was breathtaking and such an amazing visual and aural announcement that the god is here amongst the believers. Maybe people get blaze about this when they've grown up with it, in the same way that Catholics can get bored by their rituals. But I found it exciting and moving to watch it and see the effect on the believers. I love the opportunty to witness and be welcomed into rituals like this. It reminds me how important communal ritual is.

Aranmula Christmas

It's mid afternoon on Christmas day and here in Aranmula there are some concessions to Christmas, but thankfully nothing like what it would be in Australia.
Some students have gone away for Christmas - the Belgian family have gone to Varkala for a beach Christmas (3 years ago Varkala was one of the beaches hit by the Boxing Day tsunami) A couple of students have gone to the ashram of Amma - she is a Keralan spiritual guru who is all the rage for westerners. She hugs everyone as her spiritual gift to her followers and people line up for hours to receive a hug from her. Some devotees talk about feeling an electric current flow through their body when she hugged them. Mumbo jumbo bah humbug as far as I'm concerned. Maybe I'm missing out on a god experience, but I get a bit annoyed with westerners (usually hippies) who think that all things Indian are deeply spiritual, and it's usually centred on one person. Amma (which means "mother") has travelled all around the world, including to Australia, giving hugs.
Anyway, those of us still at VKV had a special dinner last night (vegetarian of course) and all the teachers and VKV staff gathered with us. The eating area was decorated with streamers and balloons, and we had a few songs. Later most of the students gathered to sing together (some carols but mostly non-Christmas songs) and lit candles. We also played some silly games. It was a beautiful night with a stunning full moon.
There are many Christians in Kerala, especially Roman Catholic and Syrian Catholic. A tradition for the Christian youth for the week leading up to Christmas is to go "caroling" at all the neighbouring houses - but not caroling in any sense of what we know. It means playing very loud drums and chanting in Malayalam at people's doors until someone opens the door and gives them money. Apparently they raise money for a local sports club by doing this. I remember this from when I was here 3 years ago, but this year the young guys were much more aggressive - banging on our doors and yelling "Open the door!", looking in windows and being quite invasive. This goes on until about 1.30am and they may come to the same house several times in one night. Last night was the final night of this, and there were also firecrackers going off all night, people shouting and loud music playing over speakers all night. I don't think they were all necesarily Christians doing this - I think Hindus too were joining in the festivities.
All the VKV students were all individually asked if we would like our lessons on Christmas day and those of us still here all said yes. So today life goes on as normal, as I had hoped. I called my brother and sister not long after breakfast - my first communication other than email / blog with the outside world. My tabla teacher has invited me and another tabla student to his house this afternoon. This is not a Christmas thing - Ashok is a Hindu, but I think he always invites his longer term students to his house. Ashok lives in Chengannur - 12 kms (and a half hour bus trip) away, so we will catch the bus with him.
But here's my absolute Christmas highlight - a special and unexpected Christmas lunch:
I have been getting to know Aranmula's rickshaw drivers by smiling at them, gesturing and miming, and waving. Today as I was walking back to my room from my tabla lesson, I saw one of the rickshaw drivers walking along the lane towards me. It turns out he lives in the lane that I walk along every day to and from my tabla lessons. He took my hand to shake it, with a huge smile, and then led me to his house and took me inside. It is a very simple concrete house with not much furniture. He sat me down on a plastic chair and introduced me to his wife, sister and mother, and another guy who I think was his brother. They all spoke very very little English so most communication was via miming and a few English words. He got his mother to bring out food. I told him that VKV is vegetarian so he piled my plate with beef and keep adding to it as I ate. He sat and smiled at me saying "Happy Christmas" The family are Catholic (I surmised this from the Sacred Heart of Jesus and Pope pictures on the walls) so Christmas would have some cultural meaning for them I guess. The women of the house stood in the hallway looking in at me eat, and some small kids peeped in at the front door, giggled and said hello. My new friend kept smiling at me, trying to communicate with me in Malayalam. Shaking my hand, he said "friendship" and beamed. After eating I sat for a while until I had to go to my mridangam lesson. This was a special Christmas gift for me, and I am very grateful.

Another concert

Last Thursday night there was a concert in the temple here at Aranmula, for free of course. It was a performance by Santosh, the singing teacher at VKV, who has become a good friend of mine. He has an amzing voice. It was traditonal Carnatic music, which includes a lot of what we in the West might think of as singing in the cracks - notes between the notes that we use in western music. The singer sings a note (eg , the note of C) and bends it, kind of like my keyboard does when you turn the knob to change the pitch of a note. It also invoves the voice doing a lot of gymnastics which in the west would be seen as very strange and unbeautiful. Carnatic music is an acquired taste for the western ear, but I have learnt to love it. Santosh sings with passion and conviction.
He was accompanied by Subhash, my mridangam teacher. They have a long history of performing together and are long time friends, and it is through Subhash that Santosh got the teaching job at VKV. Also accompanying Santosh was Sharji. He is the wood carving teacher at VKV and also a good friend of mine. Some years ago Sharji decided that he wanted to learn Carnatic music, because as wood carving teacher at VKV he was surrounded by Carnatic music lessons. So he learnt mawsing (Indian Jew's harp) with Subhash as his teacher. There was also a violinist playing at the concert.
Many of the VKV students were in the audience, as well as some of the VKV staff. Not only was it wonderful to hear such beautiful and moving music, it was such a delight to see our teachers / friends on stage. Always in a Carnatic music concert, towards the end of the performance there is a piece which includes a percussion solo. Whatever percussion instruments are being used will each have 2 times of improvised soloing, within the confines of the talam timing pattern, and the singer keeps the talam clapping pattern going throughout it. So Subhash on mridangam and Shaji on mawsing both had 2 long, magical solo pieces. Then the fun starts because the mridangam plays an 8 bar pattern, and the mawsing immediately picks it up for 8 bars, reflecting but not necessarily exactly copying what the mridangam played. This interaction of 8 bars continues: 8 bars maridangam / 8 bars mawsing. Both instrumentalists are improvising at this stage, but there has to be an interaction between the 2. And it's a kind of a challenging game - the mridangam 8 bar pattern is saying to the mawsing "Can you match this?" After some rounds of this 8 bar game, then the mridangam plays 4 bars, followed by 4 bars of mwasing, etc. Then it becomes 2 bars, then 1 bar, then half a bar, and then the mridangam, and mawsing play together, developing a huge dramatic crescendo, until the singer and violin come back in to finish the song on a huge high. It is a very exciting part of a Carnatic concert. I was excited to watch Subhash, my teacher, soloing in full flight, his hands seemingly hardly touching the mridangam, they were moving so fast.
At my mridangam lesson on Friday I told Subhash how much I enjoyed the concert, and told him it reminded me how lucky I am to be his student. As I was saying this, I was embarrassed to find myself quite emotional, with tears in my eyes (which I hope he didn't see). He looked at me with a big grin, and then said "If you every day practicing hard, you can make concert on stage" Santosh told me some time ago that Subhash has great plans for me, and I know he believes that I can make my arangetram. So I am determined to come back next year, with mridangam my main subject (2 hours lessons a day) and hopefully I'll be good enough to perform.

Images

Typical laneways of Aranmula











Green green green







Aranmula temple elephants

Big Lord Jesus, small Lord Ayyappa

Mr Thomas (VKV staff) & his daughter

Rhythm of simple living

The rhythm of my life is the rhythm of my daily routine. I walk to and from my tabla classes along a dirt path, past the back and front yards of Aranmula villagers, and past gardens of banana trees and coconut trees. Some houses would not look too out of place in Australia (maybe Darwin) reflecting money in the family, perhaps because a relative or family member is working somewhere in the Persian Gulf and sending money home. Other houses are very very simple, the kind we might expect in an Indian village. I walk past free range chickens and cows. Of course there are kids who call out "What is your name?" even if I've already told them. One boy yesterday was wearing a Harry Potter t-shirt. I smile at men and women who are walking past, and almost always get a smile in return. A woman in a bright sari stands at the fence of her neighbour, chatting. In one front yard a man in a dhoti is washing himself, sluicing water over himself as he washes off the soap. A motorbike drives past me on the dusty little lane. I look up at the huge leaves that surround me - so much beautiful greenery. And at night the sky can be magnificent. Later I walk on the main road that disects Aranmula - here the traffic can be heavy and dangerous, and crazy drivers of buses, cars, trucks and rickshaws try to pass each other on the wrong side of the road as they charge through the village. I choose to walk close to the autorickshaw stand because I've been making friends with the drivers - a smile, a mimed joke. I enjoy the fruits of this as rickshaw drivers now wave at me as they drive past. I walk past the barber shop and the barber waves at me. I walk past the tailor shop and he also waves. I've made a miming connection with a group of Tamil guys who must be very poor and work with very heavy labour as a demolition crew. I wave and smile at them. One small shop is the "coffee shop" - where VKV students and Aranmula locals alike buy a glass of hot sweet coffee and sit on the porch watching the traffic go by. I know there's only a surface level to all of this, and at a deeper level I am and always will be a foreigner, but I enjoy feelings of belonging here.
And then I delight in being surrounded by artists who are amazing in their creative fields. My teachers - Subhash and Ashok are both masters. My friend Santosh, the singing teacher, is a master. I've recently been getting to know the painting teacher, Anil, who is also a master.
So I have the great fortune as a rich westerner to be here and have lessons in percussion. I heard a hippie-style philosophy conversation amongst some of the students the other day, claiming that we must have good karma from a previous life to be able to afford be here, and so we should not waste the opportunity. I intensely dislike this kind of quasi Eastern thinking, but I do appreciate that I am very lucky and I am very grateful that I have the opportunity, and no I don't want to waste it. If I could finance myself, I could imagine doing this for 12 months, just staying here, continuing to learn music (or maybe I'm getting caught up in the romanticism of the moment) Selfish? Probably. But it is true that I'm happy. Of course I have waves of sadness and anxiety etc, but I am happy more consistantly than I have been for a long time. I'm not sure how this will translate when I return to Australia in 3 weeks' time. We'll see.

Bah Humbug et al

The monsoon is only a memory- it's "winter" now - dry, dusty and at times hot.

Very happy to be surrounded by Hindu festivals rather than western Christmas commercial hoo har.

The pilgrims to Sabrimala are increasing every day, and many visit the temple here at Aranmula on their way. Last weekend one of the staff members went. He arrived at the Pampa river at the bottom of the climb at 4am, and by midday he was still waiting in the queue 1km away from the temple. He finally got into the Ayyappa temple at 5.30pm. Apparently one pilgrim died of a heart attack at Sabrimala within the last week. Matthew, who took us on the pilgrimage, left lasrt night to go a second time, this time walking through the forest for 3 days to get there. I asked Girish if he would go with Matthew for a second time, and he shook his head and said "tiger, tiger!"

Some of us went to another Temple Festival concert to see Carnatic singing, accompanied by mridangam, violin and gaudam. The more I'm immersed in Carnatic music the more I love it (and slowly, the more I'm beginning to understand it)

My name was in the newspaper again (a Malayalam language newspaper) and the photo of some of the other students - because it was unusual to have westerners in the crowd of the temple festival music concert. We're newsworthy everywhere we go!

A group of us went on Thursday to a concert at Varkala (that touristy beach place I went to in my first month here) The concert was of Prem Joshua, a German sitar player and flautist, and his band (made up of Japanese bass player, German keyboard player and tabla player from Calcutta.) Some of the students here have his recordings and raved about him and there has been prolific promotion of his concert in all places where westerners would hang out (the concert was clearly aimed at westerners rather than Indians) So a group of us did the 1.5 hour train journey to Varkala to go to the concert. It was expensive, more like the money we pay in western countries for a concert, and was held in the grounds of an upmarket resort. It turned out to be a bit of a dud - world elevator music as someone described it. Nice but not wonderful. They were very talented musicians, no doubt about it, but it seemed formulaic, and Mr Prem Joshua could have been seen as a tad pretentious. The free classical Indian concerts in a temple have been much more exciting and moving. Anyway, it was a bit of a holiday and we got to eat fish again. An entertaining aspect of the concert for me was seeing European hippies in their late 50s / early 60s dominating the audience, decked out in their Indian outfits and doing their hippie dippie dance moves. Is this what the future holds for me???

I'm 2 thirds through my time here and I'm sure the last month will whizz by. Some of the longer term students here are about to leave - Christmas in Goa has been a tradition for travelers in India for decades. So some of my friends who have been here since before I arrived will be leaving in the next few days. "Todo Cambia" (everything changes - a Mercedes Sosa song which my band performed)

As for me and Christmas, I'm hoping for Bah Humbug and just another day in Aranmula.

I love mridangam maybe more than tabla, which is a surprise. Not sure how I will use it in the future. Yesterday in my room I was trying to play a funky western groove on it. Maybe possible. But I am really enjoying learning the classical Indian rhythms. I'm now learning a talam (rhythm) which is counted as 1 2 3 4 / 1 / 1 2 3 If that means nothing to you, just accept that it's complex. Subhashji arrives at my lesson, I say "Namaste" to him and he touches his chest in acceptance of my greeting. He sits in front of me, looks at me without saying anything for a minute or so, and then asks how I am. Often he is chewing on beetel nut, and will get up several times during the lesson to disappear around the corner to spit out the red phlegm that beetel nut produces. He is a gentle and humble man. After asking how I am, there will be another minute or 2 of silence, and then he will point to a page of my notebook, indicating what I should play to him from yesterday's lesson. I play it, and sometimes he might say "good" or even "very good". Another silent pause. Then he uses his hand as if he is turning the page of a book, and says "Next one" When he gives me the next part of the rhythm he rarely plays it on mridangam, but instead tells it to me using the names of the different strokes - Looking at me in my eyes: "Next One. Tat Thom Kit Tha Thaka That Tha Chat Tha Kittha Thaga" I then play what he has told me. We go through a series of these until I think I can't possibly hold it all in my head, and then he gets me to play it all over and over. I struggle for a few cycles, but then surprise myself at my memory's ability. When he's sure I've got it, then and only then will he write it in my notebook, while I keep playing. After 2 months of learning, I'm getting to know patterns of how the rhythms tend to be structured and so it helps me pick it up quicker. If he does play anything on mridangam during the lesson himself, he always first touches the body of the mridangam reverently and then touches his chest - a gesture of respect and reverence to the instrument (and maybe by association, to the masters of mridangam past and present?? - that's my romantic interpretation) I really like this reverence for the instrument. We continue like this for the hour until Lucy arrives for her lesson, and I get up (struggle out of cross legged position) , holding my palms together in front of my chest and say "Namaste" to him again and he touches his chest, and we say "see you tomorrow" Or before I get up, he might say "Practice this many times"

Music heaven

Yet another spiritually / physically / emotionally / intellectually amazing experience last night.
My mridangam teacher (guru) told me some weeks ago that his guru would be performing in a concert and invited me to come. Currently there is a 2 week festival at a temple about 1 hour's drive away from Aranmula, and Subhash's guru's performance is a part of this festival. Last night 14 of us went to this concert, and it was such an amazing experience. It was a FREE concert, but the musicians were world class. We were told to go early so that we could get seats because this man is very famous and there would be many people there. So we got great seats at the front and took turns guarding them while we found fruit to eat for the evening meal (memories of WOMAD, reserving space on the fence at the front.)

My guru's guru is named Guru Kaaraikkudi R Mani, and it turns out he is one of India's greatest mridangam players, known world wide. He has schools set up around the world, including one in Melbourne. He has a website (the photo of him below is from his website), and on it I found that he has recently recorded with Paul Simon. He performs all around the world, and is held in great esteem here, obviously.

When his entourage arrived at the venue, my guru was with him, and they went backstage. Later Subhash, my guru, came to get me and took me backstage to meet the great man (I was watched enviously by hundreds of Indian fans as I was taken backstage.) He was a very humble man. His English is very good and he chatted to me for about 10 minutes. He asked where I am from and then told me that he performed at the Adelaide Festival of Arts 6 years ago with the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra, and he told me that he has had a long association with Paul Grabowski. He will be in Melbourne in February and then again in October, so maybe I can meet him there - when I left him he said "Next time in Melbourne"

The concert was stunning. There were 7 musicians on stage (I will include their names in case Uma is reading this, because he might know these musicians). In the centre was the mridangam master himself, and he was in control of everything. To his left were the other 3 percussionists: Sri V Suresh playing khadam (which is a clay pot, hit with fingertips and palms) Another musican (I don't know his name) on ganjira, a small tambourine (it was absolutely amazing and unbelievable the sounds he could make from this very simple instrument). Sri VV Madhusoodhanan played tabla, as well as several other percussion instruments and an electric drum kit. To Kaaraikkudi Mani's right were the melodic instrumentalists: Sri BV Lalasai on flute, Sri UP Raju on mandolin and Sri BV Raghavendra Rao on electric violin.

They played for 3 hours and I was in heaven. I can't express how amazing they were. The only problem was that the sound engineer needs to go to a basic sound engineering course. For almost half of the concert there were terrible screeches from feedback loops, until members of the audience started yelling out advice to the sound engineer, and a crowd of about 10 people formed an irate circle around the mixing desk. The whole performance was halted and a new sound check was done from scratch, which made significant improvements. But anyway, even under those conditions, the brilliance of the musicians was obvious (As I reread my last sentence to myself I chuckled because I've clearly been in India too long, and I'm starting to use flowery language like Indian English)

We were at the front, but in front of us was a roped off area for dignitaries and the press. There were lots of cameras, and guess where the cameras were often aimed - at the white people sitting in the audience. The khadam player was the one who spoke in between pieces, and at the end of the concert he thanked the audience and said that "there are even many foreigners in the audience" (ie those of us from VKV, Aranmula) We'll see if we make the papers again.

Tonight some of us are going back to the same place again, because there is a singing concert (also free). The vocalists are "The Karnatika Brothers" from Chennai (Madras) and they will be accompanied by violin, mridangam, khadam and moursing (Jew's harp)






Guru Kaaraikkudi R Mani, my guru's guru. There were many jokes from my co-students about "guru squared", or "MG2" (Mridangam Guru squared)

Sabarimala pilgrimage photos

Here's a few photos of the event, taken by Dan


Friday night roughly 9.30pm at Aranmula. A priest from the temple has come to officiate over the preparations for us to leave as pilgrims. The priest (in the middle of the photo, dressed in white dhoti and bare chest) helps us do various rituals including filling the coconut with ghee and putting all of the offerings in the cloth bundle to carry on our heads.

Friday night about 1am - we've reached the Pampa River at the bottom of the climb to Sabarimala. Our group of pilgrims prepare to wash in the river before the climb.

... and so we start the climb

Maybe 2am-ish. The incline has lessened but it's not necessarily kind to the bare feet. That's me on the left in the orange shirt, with my red cloth bundle slung over my shoulder.

Some time after 2.30am - we've reached the "queue" and this is how we will stay for the next 6 hours, inching our way forward

The sun has long ago risen and we are still in the queue to get into the temple. The line has moved into the "warehouse" and the line snakes around this building 3 times before it reaches the steps to go up into the temple compound. It's a good one to have, though.

We have entered the temple compound and now are in line to go up the 18 golden steps. Notice the policemen on either side of the steps, dragging people up the steps. Dan was very naughty taking this photo because you're not supposed to take photos inside the temple compound

We have completed all of the rituals and are now waiting, exhausted, berfore the decent back down the hill. Matthew, sitting next to me, is a staff member from VKV and the one who organised our group. He is a Christian and also one of the most enthusiastic of the Ayyappa devotees in our group - an interesting mix, I thought.

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"Mangalam" is a Malayalam language newspaper. In Sunday's edition of Mangalam there was a small article and photo of us, the 4 white people who went to Sabarimala. Apparently the headline of the article says something like "Foreign Ayyappa devotees go to Sabarimala" The article mentions the 4 of us by name and what county we come from and that we are studying music at Vijnana Kala Vedi at Aranmula. It says that the foreigners were led by Tony from Australia (that's what Matthew told the journalist)

A few photos and a book recommendation

Wednesday night outside of Aranmula temple - we buy the pilgrims' malas (chains to wear around our neck, with a picture of Lord Ayyappa) from this street seller

Wednesday night inside the Aranmula temple - the festival of Krishna. Priests drum and perform puja ceremonies.

Wednesday night: the line of people inside the Aranmula temple complex, waiting to go inside the sancum sanctorum.

Wednesday night in the Aranmula temple complex - the temple elephants

There are more photos I want to add - of Friday night preparing to go to Sabarimala, and Friday night / Saturday at Sabarimala. But unfortunately the uploading of images is taking forever today so I'll try again tomorrow.

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A book I'm reading at the moment: "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. I highly recommend it. She is an American woman who went through a terribly difficult divorce and then an on again off again addictive relationship (sounds familiar) and then decided to spend a year of her life attending to 3 areas of her life that needed healing: Allowing pleasure and savouring it (she spent 4 months in Italy, particularly savouring food, thus the "Eat" part of the title) Discovering and developing spirituality (She spent 4 months in an ashram in South India, thus the "Pray" part of the title) and finding a balance between pleasure and spirituality (She spent 4 months in Bali, and discovers how to love again, thus the "Love" part of the title) I'm finding much of what she writes very relevant, very moving and very familiar.

Sabarimala photos I found on the net

The 18 golden steps up to the next level of the temple complex (taken when there are no pilgrims there, obviously) Notice the blue "cattle fences" in the foreground - this is where the "queue" lines up

Pilgrims in the "queue" waiting to get into the temple complex, in the area that I described as a giant warehouse, where the line snakes around several times.

The golden temple with the Ayyappa idol inside.

Pilgrims in the queue waiting to file (ie be pushed through) the temple past the Ayyappa idol. Notice the pilgrims holding the cloth bundles on their heads.

Police trying to hold back the crush of pilgrims. This photo came from an online newspaper from some years ago.

Pilgrims carrying their cloth bundles on their heads as they walk on their way to Sabarimala. They are wearing their black lungis and the chains around their necks. We didn't have the flowers, and we wore shirts.

I hope to get photos that Francois took, but these might give you an idea of what it was like