12-31-08

That’s it, I’m moving to India. Today was a rest day and, after a slow morning, Mom, Patrick, and I headed for the sari shops. Patrick, it turns out, has excellent taste in Saris. We took our first auto-rickshaw, which was very bumpy – so bumpy in fact that I had a touch of asthma. The streets of Kanchi are quite different from those of Chennai. They are generally smaller. There are many more animals. In addition to dogs and cats, there are also numerous cows, goats, and even the odd horse-drawn cart. The sides of the roads are covered in posters, advertising so many various shops and encouraging the purchase of so many various items that it is difficult to know where to focus. I was very glad the rickshaw diver knew where he was going, because I would never have picked the sign of our desired silk shop out of the hundreds in view.
Buying a silk sari is an experience that no one should forego. We must have viewed well over a hundred saris, of different quality, color, price, pattern, and material – all had silk, but some were mixtures of silk and some other type of material; the amount of silk decided the price. They began by asking what price-range we were looking at, to which we replied that 1500-2500 rupees (~$30-50) would be best. They acknowledged this, but insisted on beginning by presenting us with their masterpiece. It was a deep blue, pure silk sari, and it was stunning. The tail, the last part of the sari which drapes over the shoulder and is in clear view, depicted each of the 108 poses of Shiva dancing Barata Natyam. Once we were truly ready to begin, they asked which color I would like to look at; I asked for green. They then paraded a series of saris in front of me, light green, dark green, green with a red border, orange saris with a green trim, saris with intricate embroidery, saris that changed color in the light. We selected a few, as in about fifteen, for the second round.
Sometime in the middle of our sari viewing session, we were joined by the man who weaves the saris. Tea and coffee was ordered and we talked for at least 45 minutes. He was very interesting – intelligent, knowledgeable, and humble, but eager to pass on what he knew to those who were interested, namely us. We discussed many thing – the Ramayana, dharma, the insignificance of any individual, the role of the Brahmin in a traditional Hindu society, his education at Amherst, the usefulness and lack thereof of an American degree in Business Management in India, the structure of family life when he was a child and ho it has changed, etc. He pointed out that dharma, any good or correct action, changes through time. He provided an example in marriage. In the Ramayana, King Dasharatha, Rama’s father, had over 5,000 wives. Rama, the incarnation of the god Vishnu, had only one wife, demonstrating that the dharma of marriage in his time was to unite one man with one woman. However, in the Mahabharatha, things have changed. The Pandavas, the five virtuous sons of Pandu, are all married to the same woman, Draupadi while Krishna, another incarnation of Vishnu, is the husband of quite a number of women. The sari-weaver, whose name I never discovered, explained that Krishna’s time was a time of war. There had been wars before his life, there were wars during his life, and there were wars after he passed on. His approval of the Pandavas marriage and his own actions demonstrate that dharma in his time accepted any number of men and women in a marriage.
Because dharma is ever-changing, the role of a Brahmin was to decide what dharma is in a given situation. They would roam from village to village, arriving in the morning, eating, and then passing judgment on whoever wanted to present their dilemmas. No Brahmin would stay in one place because they could then become influenced.
We also discussed his life as a child. His grandfather, the oldest male in the house, was apparently an absolute dictator-his word went, no matter what. He grew up in a house with 17 children and 8 adults, and no one had any personal space. To even want personal space was considered a sin. There was the radio room, the telephone room, the kitchen, the birthing room, the room where women went during that time of the month, etc., but there was not a single bedroom because a bedroom is a place for someone to go to be alone. He said that this structure of family life was common throughout India, but that it is virtually non-existent now. He did not, however, pass judgment on whether he thought this to be a good thing or not, although he did say that if he were a grandfather, he would be more loving and interact with his grandchildren more than his own grandfather.
After much more painful decision making, we eventually picked out six lovely saris, three more than we had intended to buy. I got one that is green and turquoise, one that is orange and green, and another that is dark blue and green. The first two were about 2500 Rs and the third was 800. Mom and I then got measured for sari tops from the same materials as our saris, to be delivered tomorrow morning. I can’t wait. I will have to try on at least one sari tomorrow before we depart for Mamalapuram (a.k.a. Mahabalipuram), which Dad may not be overly enthusiastic about, but I think he will survive. We were then lured into the other room, after having just made a several thousand rupee purchase, to look at ready-made skirts, tunics, etc. I noticed one skirt that was particularly beautiful and pointed it out to Mom, after which I was encouraged to try it on for size. I was quite surprised when a girl, probably a few years younger than me, followed me into the changing room and strated undressing me! I suppose it is considered a great honor to have someone undress you, as though they were your servent, but I found it quite disconcerting...
Until Later,
एलानोर - Eleanor