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Entry
54 - India II: Madhurai - a temple in a swamp
Madhurai
at the end of the monsoon is not a pleasant place to be. Actually I
am not sure Madhurai is ever a particularly pleasant place to be, but
it does have a large and spectacular temple which is worth a gander.
Driving
into the town, a seldom-used adjective came to mind: febrile. Yes, Madhurai
has malaria written all over it. The town seems to be situated in a
swamp and has untold acres of stagnant standing water. Practically every
vacant lot is a foetid pond three inches deep, a potential mosquito
nursery. Perhaps this is why everyone tends to be a bit evasive when
the talk about the place. 'Oooh,' they say, ' that Madhuari, you either
love it or hate it
it's very full on.' I feel no need to be some
so circumlocutory. Liked the temple, hated the town. And I hated the
town more than I liked the temple.
We
found a hotel of bluntly functional design, which is pretty much the
norm in pilgrim towns. Although it did distinguish itself with a restaurant
which was visited by a bored looking elephant twice a day. This (vegetarian,
natch) eaterie could also rustle up a dish that tasted exactly like
beef, although I'm sure this is not what the Hindu chefs had in mind.
Curious, I asked the head waiter what the dish contained; I asked the
chef what the dish contained; I asked the man on the next table what
the dish contained, but nobody could tell me. Perhaps it was beef. If
not, these guys could certainly teach the manufacturers of Quorn a thing
or two about realistic meat substitutes.
After
eating we went to the temple, which, as billed, is pretty spectatcular.
It has over a dozen of those pyramidal deity-adorned towers favoured
by Hindus, one of which is meant to be older than time itself, although
radiocarbon dating had yet to confirm this. In the temple's outer chambers
- for it covers innumerable acres - are arcades of shops, like mini
souks, where almost everything from clay gods to gold is sold. The combination
of cool temple stone and devotional kitsch is an agreeable one.
I
also liked the sign on the way out, an appeal to pilgrims for, what
else, cash. "Give money generously," it said, "and receive
the blessings of God." I was rather taken by this upfront 'market
forces' attitude to religion. After all, poor people are generally reckoned
to be pretty good, whereas the rich, who, understandably are too busy
to be pious (camels, needles, etc.), have more money and more sin. Why
not give them the chance to buy down their badness? I shoved a medium
denomination note in the box and scored some blessings, a happy supply
side sinner.
Guidebooks
gush that Madhurai is a vibrant and colourful place - when applied to
Indian cities, these adjectives tend to be, well, euphemistic. When
we went for a pootle round the city, we discovered that the only thing
that keeps the mosquito population down to something approaching tolerable
levels is the air pollution. We had met a Danish bloke at our hotel
who had developed a respiratory complaint (a hypochondriac, he thought
it could be malaria; I told him his symptoms were more consistent with
dengue fever). But soon I had it too and it has everything to with the
city's atmosphere, which is the worst I have ever breathed.
We
enjoyed some respite as the tail end of the monsoon freshened up things
- briefly - before the drains overflowed and the place became an open
sewer. I think it was as I stepped into a cow pat, with one foot and
an overflowing drain with the other, while a beggar hassled me and a
rickshaw driver demanded twice the originally quoted fare, that I realised
there was no point in trying. Madhurai and I were never going to be
friends.
Fortunately
the American missionaries who had rather unsuccessfully tried to spread
the word here in the 19th century had the same idea. Malaria claimed
six of their number before they realized that Madhurai sucked. So they
built a hill station 100 km away 2100m up in the Western Ghats. Figuring
it was only a matter of time before we shared the missionaries' fate
(and without God on our side too) we headed for the hills.
November 2,
2003

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