Wednesday 15th Jan 2014
from the last blog you will know yesterday was Pongal (Harvest Festival) here in Southern India, the date varies as its defined by the full moon, at bit like Easter. It was a joyous affair, the Mosque was decorated with miles of bunting stretched out from the minaret to the surrounding coconut trees to form a canopy of green flags which fluttered and bobbed in the light breeze.
Music blared out from a bank of speakers which had appeared on the car park at the end of our road not long after dawn prayers had finished at the mosque and there was an air of festival excitement building. As at home on bank holidays the morning had started with rain but unlike home by 10:00 the clouds had burnt back to revel a blue sky. It was obviously a big day , all the kids were off from school and were running around with big smiles on their faces. 2013's monsoon had been good and it was a good harvest.
From our balcony we watched the crowds build men, women and children all obviously out for a good time. What happened next took us by surprise as the women and children all began to head towards the mosque carrying buckets and containers, initially i thought they might contain the usual harvest festival donations of tins of fruit cocktail or salmon but they were empty.
Here, as we found out later, the custom is for the mosque to give rice to the community and the women were all queuing up for their share.
Next a troop of dancers, all boys this was a Muslim celebration, appeared dressed not unlike morris men at home complete with tambourines and sticks adorned with tassels and proceeded to delight the crowd with what i can only describe as a cross between energetic morris and line dance made all the more impressive in the now noon day heat and the whole community had turned out to watch. Muntaz and Ali who own our apartment and live on the ground floor below us were there and tried to explain what was going on, no doubt some was lost in translation but it was great fun to watch.
As the dancers finished their final dance we headed off for the beach only to discover it covered with dead fish. What kind of eco disaster were we looking at? pollution? some deep sea trawler dumped its by-catch just off shore? I was seriously concerned until i noticed they were all the same species of fish, all about the same size and had a curious hollowed out look to them. Then the penny dropped, we weren't looking at a scene of death and devastation but one of birth and renewal, it was a mass spawning triggered by last nights full moon. The fish had accomplished their goal and now spent had died and been washed up on the shore. Impressive but all part of life and death's cycle, even if a bit smelly until the crows and jackdaws had cleared them away.
On our return home Muntaz appeared with several bowls and containers, she had prepared a havest meal and wanted us to share in the day. Pilao rice, coconut and lentil sambal, a meat curry, raita and popodums. It was delicious or it was until i began exploring the meat curry. Don't get me wrong ir was delicious and made from chicken (I'd noticed the the number of chickens in Muntaz's yard had fallen by one but that was OK, that was what they were there for and made it an even more auspicious meal) it was what i discovered that made me squeamish. An un-laid egg. In India, chicken curry means it has chicken in it, this can entail anything from breast and leg to liver, heart , kidneys in fact anything which is edible. I realise that protein here is expensive (relatively) and if you are going to kill one of the birds you have feed and nurtured you want to make sure nothing and i mean nothing goes to waste but I'm afraid my inner western Waitrose shopper rebelled. As far as chicken offal goes i draw the line at chicken liver. It was a truly lovely thought on her part and after careful forensic examination of the rest of the curry i managed to eat enough to show gratitude. It was after all - delicious.
Tomorrow we are off to Munnar for 2 -3 days a tea town in the hills a 5 - 6 hour drive. According to my Weather App its cold up there, at night the temperature crashing to 16 C and day temp scarcely rising to 28 C. I'm considering taking a onesie for nights and a fleece for the day time.
I'll let you know how i managed in the cold when we get back.
Oh well Dosas are calling.... then off to the beach.
Have a good day
K&S
from the last blog you will know yesterday was Pongal (Harvest Festival) here in Southern India, the date varies as its defined by the full moon, at bit like Easter. It was a joyous affair, the Mosque was decorated with miles of bunting stretched out from the minaret to the surrounding coconut trees to form a canopy of green flags which fluttered and bobbed in the light breeze.
Music blared out from a bank of speakers which had appeared on the car park at the end of our road not long after dawn prayers had finished at the mosque and there was an air of festival excitement building. As at home on bank holidays the morning had started with rain but unlike home by 10:00 the clouds had burnt back to revel a blue sky. It was obviously a big day , all the kids were off from school and were running around with big smiles on their faces. 2013's monsoon had been good and it was a good harvest.
From our balcony we watched the crowds build men, women and children all obviously out for a good time. What happened next took us by surprise as the women and children all began to head towards the mosque carrying buckets and containers, initially i thought they might contain the usual harvest festival donations of tins of fruit cocktail or salmon but they were empty.
Here, as we found out later, the custom is for the mosque to give rice to the community and the women were all queuing up for their share.
Next a troop of dancers, all boys this was a Muslim celebration, appeared dressed not unlike morris men at home complete with tambourines and sticks adorned with tassels and proceeded to delight the crowd with what i can only describe as a cross between energetic morris and line dance made all the more impressive in the now noon day heat and the whole community had turned out to watch. Muntaz and Ali who own our apartment and live on the ground floor below us were there and tried to explain what was going on, no doubt some was lost in translation but it was great fun to watch.
As the dancers finished their final dance we headed off for the beach only to discover it covered with dead fish. What kind of eco disaster were we looking at? pollution? some deep sea trawler dumped its by-catch just off shore? I was seriously concerned until i noticed they were all the same species of fish, all about the same size and had a curious hollowed out look to them. Then the penny dropped, we weren't looking at a scene of death and devastation but one of birth and renewal, it was a mass spawning triggered by last nights full moon. The fish had accomplished their goal and now spent had died and been washed up on the shore. Impressive but all part of life and death's cycle, even if a bit smelly until the crows and jackdaws had cleared them away.
On our return home Muntaz appeared with several bowls and containers, she had prepared a havest meal and wanted us to share in the day. Pilao rice, coconut and lentil sambal, a meat curry, raita and popodums. It was delicious or it was until i began exploring the meat curry. Don't get me wrong ir was delicious and made from chicken (I'd noticed the the number of chickens in Muntaz's yard had fallen by one but that was OK, that was what they were there for and made it an even more auspicious meal) it was what i discovered that made me squeamish. An un-laid egg. In India, chicken curry means it has chicken in it, this can entail anything from breast and leg to liver, heart , kidneys in fact anything which is edible. I realise that protein here is expensive (relatively) and if you are going to kill one of the birds you have feed and nurtured you want to make sure nothing and i mean nothing goes to waste but I'm afraid my inner western Waitrose shopper rebelled. As far as chicken offal goes i draw the line at chicken liver. It was a truly lovely thought on her part and after careful forensic examination of the rest of the curry i managed to eat enough to show gratitude. It was after all - delicious.
Tomorrow we are off to Munnar for 2 -3 days a tea town in the hills a 5 - 6 hour drive. According to my Weather App its cold up there, at night the temperature crashing to 16 C and day temp scarcely rising to 28 C. I'm considering taking a onesie for nights and a fleece for the day time.
I'll let you know how i managed in the cold when we get back.
Oh well Dosas are calling.... then off to the beach.
Have a good day
K&S
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