Linda: The World in a Day

The World in a Day – Day 2

Yesterday, we walked down the main street of Chennai to the Bay of Bengal, a large beach approaches the sea with little fishing dinghies strewn in patches here and there. The beach is remarkably uncrowded and the water cool to the feet. As we walked down the street, I was struck by the little things that are so lovely: people washing the sidewalk in front of a shop or shrine and then drawing a simple, but beautiful pattern before the threshold. Flowers laying in the street – remnants from an offering at a shrine. And the glory of dress that is India. Everywhere, there are dotis on the men and exquisite saris and chalwar kemeez (tunic and baggy pants with a long scarf) on the women. Despite the disrepair of the streets and the litter, one sees the people in their beautiful clothing. Even women doing construction work were in colorful saris, holding a tray of bricks on their heads and swaying gracefully in their work.

As we meandered through this day, it was the clothing and decoration of the people that struck me the most. I have been so numbed by the sea of blue jeans, tee-shirts, and suits that is our world. It is as if we are afraid to be something or someone. We, in our quest for equality, have a tendency to be all the same – despite our immense freedom and liberty. It is an interesting thing here, for India is such a mix of many, many beliefs and ideologies. Here, there is no homogeneity. The modern western education is trying to instill this homogeneity through the media and political expedience, but what will the price be? Here, on every face, I see a commitment of attitude and dress to something. There walks a business man. Here is a devotee of Shiva with the tell-tale stripes on the forehead. Here is a follower of Vishnu, again with a distinguishing mark. Choices of sari, dhoti, chalwar keemez, western clothing all herald a people who are committed to some way of life and willing to be open about that commitment. Even amongst the very poor, one sees this commitment of attitude and dress. Indeed, every conversation we have had, from the person in a restaurant to the taxi driver, will inevitably end up revolving around the two taboo topics in American culture – religion and politics. And such conversations!! This is not just a cursory discussion, but an animated, detailed, intelligent, and enlightening conversation about many aspects of their own religion and all the others as well. Or about politics. Or technology. Whatever the topic, it is embraced fully so understanding can be met and is not limited to the “polite conversation” of weather and sport. All the differences require the utmost in concentration and understanding, and make for remarkable individuals.

There were two main stops of the day. First, after an altercation with the autobus driver (small three wheeled open vehicle) which did not go well (must gain more finesse in the bargaining department), we opted for a taxi from the hotel – more expensive but no argument). Our first stop was to St. Thom’s Cathedral near the beach. This has been a place of worship for 2000 years, though the present church was built in 1896 in a simple Neo-Gothic style with a lovely teak roof. The original church was probably built by Nestorian Christians from Persia in the 10th century. St. Thom’s marks the place where St. Thomas the Apostle is buried and is only one of three churches that is over the tomb of an apostle. The public has access to a room underground with a shrine to St. Thomas over his tomb. A glass on the ground in front of the lifesize statue of St. Thomas shows the dirt above the tomb. The ambience of the room is neutral, but there is an air of presence and piety that is quite profound. Quietly, one sees priests in robes and nuns in habits – something which I have seen only rarely since my earliest childhood. Such a helpful outward manifestation to an inner way of life, whose example is a light and help. What a loss it is that the Catholic Church hides its people behind modern dress. In addition to St. Thomas’s tomb, there is also a dark-skinned Virgin, Our Lady of Mylapore. Indian women quietly stand in front of her, saying prayers and supplications, much as St. Francis Xavier did many, many years ago. There are two other places in Chennai sacred to the memory of St. Thomas which we were unable to visit at this time. The first was where he was martyred and the second was a cave where he liked to pray. It is said that there are two handprints on the wall of the cave made by the holy apostle and that the spring was created when he struck a rock with his staff.

From Christian India, we venture forth to Hindu India, traversing the crowded streets on foot to the Kapalishvara Temple. There has been a temple here since at least the 7th century, but the present temple dates from the 16th century built in the Dravidian style of southern India with its rainbow colored gopura and pavilions in front of the temple. Things are so old here, that already I find myself saying, “Oh, 16th century. That’s new.” To get there, we passed the streaming, packed streets of Chennai. As warned, pedestrians are the last on the pecking order of right-of-way on the streets in India. We carefully crossed streets amongst 4-5 lanes of traffic (mind you, this is on a two lane road – small, two lane road), bus, car, taxi, autobus, bullock, bicycle, then us. Sidewalks, in various states of disrepair, are not for walking, it seems. The people walk on the edges of the street, and we learned to walk on the right side, facing traffic (opposite of the US) to avoid the autobus drivers stopping and asking if we need a ride. Everywhere, tiny little shops selling just about everything. The streets are so dirty, despite the efforts of the people to keep the dirt at bay, that it is hard to see past the dirt and into the shops, noting that they contain everything under the sun. As I learned to look more closely, one saw shops selling basic food next to shops selling toilets, next to shops selling cell phones, next to a shrine, next to a shanty home, on and on and on. Each shop has several inhabitants, all curious, watching us go by. And, because it was so warm, we’d forgotten that it was winter – the sun began to set.