March-2013 by Projects Abroad

e e r F

March 2013

Volume 2, Issue 40

Sponsored by:

Kolukkumalai Tea Estate: The World’s Highest Tea Garden Plus: Eminent Field Biologist Dr. Clifford Rice’s Indian Connection YouTube Cooking Sensation Srirangam Radhu

Contents Editor

March 2013 | Issue No. 40

Dr. Nandini Murali

EDITOR’S CORNER Copy Editor Bhuvana Venkatesh Journalism Supervisor B. Pooja

01 Wisdom on the Road COVER STORY

02 Two Leaves and a Bud A DAY IN THE LIFE OF...

10 On the Tea Trail Journalism Administrator G. Durgairajan Designer & Technical Support T. Jesuraja

HERITAGE

13 The Way of Tea REVIVAL

16 Malligai: The Pride of Madurai CONSERVATION

Reporters & Photographers Adele Eude Florian Thomas Hanae Araki Isabelle Brotherton-Ratcliffe Krysten Maier Loretta Dean 2

Salome Fleur Becker

18 Nilgiri Tahr: Mountain Acrobats 22 Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary: Bonding with Nature PROFILE

26 The Tahr and I: Eminent Field Biologist

Dr. Clifford Rice CULINARY CORNER

29 Home is Where the Food is CELEBRATIONS

32 A Cross-cultural Pongal PHOTO ESSAY Cover Photograph G. Durgairajan

35 All that Glitters HEALING ARTS

38 If Music Heals, Play On BOOK REVIEW

Sivakasi Projects Abroad Pvt. Ltd., Contact: editor@maduraimessenger.org MADURAI MESSENGER No. 17, T.P.K Road Pasumalai Madurai – 625004 Tamil Nadu India Tel. 0452-2370269

40 A Black and White Era of Tea 42 A Mountain Saga FILM REVIEW

44 The Elephant Whisperer 46 A Seamless Blend of the Real and Magical

EDITOR’S CORNER

Wisdom on the Road

hen he first called me up to ask directions to my residence, he sounded no different from any other call taxi driver. I live in the outer fringes of Madurai. Despite my clear directions, it always irritates me that drivers never seem to get it right and ring me up not once but several times. Manoharan seemed no different from others like him. As he called once again to confirm the directions, I quelled the familiar irritation in my tone. Here I was, racing against time to get ready and such phone calls added to the delay. However, when I saw him, I sensed he was different. He exuded a gentle presence and old-world courtesy. Even more unusual, I spotted a well-thumbed copy of the Bhagavad Gita (Tamil version) on the dashboard of the car. At a traffic bottleneck, I saw him delve into the book and mutter something in a low voice. Intrigued, I strained my ears to catch his chant. Unable to contain my curiosity, I asked him what he was reading. The resulting conversation with him has made a lasting impact on me. For Manoharan, reading the Gita daily was an inspiration and a sadhana. Even if he is very busy, he makes time to read at least one verse from the sacred text every day. I was amazed. Here was I, wanting to read the Gita but always finding a thousand reasons that came between me and my aspiration. Manoharan was an instrument to help me learn one of life’s best kept secrets— whether its success, mastering a skill, completing a task or following a dream— it’s the baby steps—one small step a day—that takes you closer towards your destination. Nothing is accomplished overnight. Inspired by Manoharan, I too have begun to read the Gita daily—at least one verse a day. I have now almost completed the second chapter of this spiritual classic. He has also earned my admiration because of his wonderful parenting. The father of two teenage daughters, he has encouraged them to excel in academics and follow their dreams. A graduate in English literature, he is an avid reader, fond of reading widely in Tamil, especially spiritual classics. His older daughter is an engineering student, and the younger one, is appearing for her Class 12 exams and wants to become a Chartered Accountant. Since the last month, I try to ensure that it’s Manoharan who drives me at least one way. To share space with a deeply spiritual, kind hearted and good human being is indeed a privilege and honour.

VILLAGE VOICES

48 Chinnakanal: Mountain Meanderings FIRST IMPRESSIONS

53 A Fine Balance 54 One of the Herd, One in Every Crowd LAST IMPRESSIONS

55 Sayonara, Madurai 56 Bumpy and Dusty Indian Roads Paved with Wisdom

Dr. nandini murali Editor

I wanted to find out more about the journey of the tea leaves from the exotic locations of India to the shelves of a London shop, and to understand the difference between drinking tea in the land of its growth, and in England where people buy it for the warmth and comfort a cup of tea brings on a blustery and cold winter evening

Madurai Messenger Cover Story March 2013

Two Leaves and a Bud Isabelle Brotherton-Ratcliffe, who formerly worked in one of London’s best known food shops, famous for its connoisseur tea brands, decides to discover for herself the missing links in the tea production process from leaf to packaged product. She travels to Kolukkumalai Tea Estate, the world’s highest tea garden in the Munnar Hills in Kerala, that provides her vital clues in the chain that connects this mountain top haven with the cup of tea in her London home By Isabelle Brotherton-Ratcliffe United Kingdom

A green harvest - the drying troughs filled with tea leaves, stage 1 in the tea making process

Johnnynava Kumar pointing out a tea bud to the writer Isabelle Brotherton-Ratcliffe amidst the mountain tops

Whatever the situation, whatever the race or creed, Tea knows no segregation, no class nor pedigree. It knows no motivation, no sect nor organisation, It knows no one religion, nor political belief. - Ray Davis

or a few weeks in the autumn of 2010, I worked in one of London’s most famous food shops, best known for selling tea. For an avid tea drinker like me, it was not a job but a vocation and I was thrilled to hear the names of so many kinds of tea. Customers would ask us if the monsoon in India had affected the tea harvest, and the shop’s experts would know if the tea had come from one particular plantation.

Have a cuppa tea I realised that there was as much to know about tea growing as about grapes or apples and I resolved one day to go to the places I was learning about and see the tea bushes for myself. I wanted to find out more about the journey of the tea leaves from the exotic locations of India to the shelves of a London shop and to understand the difference between drinking tea in the land of its growth, and in England where people buy it for the warmth and comfort a cup of tea brings on a blustery and cold winter evening. Many of the teas we sold bore the names of the regions in which they grew – Darjeeling, Assam, Ceylon come to mind - but there was no tea named after Munnar. As I came to discover, this less famous area of India, amongst the

mountains of the Western Ghats, is a source of high quality and high value tea, so its absence from the pantheon of the greats is surely an omission awaiting correction. Now Munnar is emerging from the shadow of Ooty (Udhagamandalam), its better known neighbour to the north, and is finding its place on the map with increasing numbers of tourists coming to enjoy the beauty of its landscape, the purity of its air, and its tea. Up to a few years ago, Munnar had been known only as a prestigious honeymoon destination for couples from Tamil Nadu, but now the honeymoon couples are coming from further afield and there is a new kind of tourism – to see the tea. I went to Munnar to find out more about its growing tourism and found tour companies offering trips to tea plantations and factories. Throughout the town, there are small souvenir stalls selling not postcards, but packets of tea, herbal medicines and spices brought down from the hills encircling the town. There are signs of construction everywhere as more and more hotels are being built to keep up with what seems to be a rocketing demand for accommodation, and a spate of new shops jostle with the traditional stores

on the streets. Suddenly, in Munnar, everyone’s lives are about tea.

A Tradition of Tea Tea itself is nothing new in Munnar – there have been plantations here since the late 19th century – and in a nod to the history of the area, there is a Government Guest House here. In architectural style, it is the epitome of a plantation bungalow, sitting above a terraced and manicured garden with windows running along one side. In some towns, the govenment guest houses can be rented, when not in official use, by tourists, but the Munnar Guest House has the look of a building with its own purpose. To me, it also spoke of the elusive glamour of the world of the tea planters, and the age of clipper ships racing to get the tea to Europe. In tune with this nostalgia, the uniform of local school boys referred to another age; they wore smart blue blazers and ties and looked more like a visiting cricket team than the teenagers they were. Near the Government Guest House stands the East End Hotel, one of the most formal and attractive buildings in Munnar. The hotel’s design seemed derived from the 1930s and also had something of suburban England in its

Madurai Messenger Cover Story March 2013

5 Stage 2 - the dried tea leaves being ground in the century-old machines

Throughout the town, there are small souvenir stalls selling not postcards, but packets of tea, herbal medicines and spices brought down from the hills encircling the town outlines, but when I spoke to Pranav P., 21, who has worked at the hotel for two years, he told me the building is in fact only 19 years old. Nevertheless that makes it the oldest, or first, hotel in Munnar, he said. At the time of my visit, Pranav reported they had six honeymoon couples staying, but in December, an auspicious month for weddings, the hotel had been fully booked. Owned by Varkitchen, it too is now expanding to meet the new demand, adding an extension building with 60 more rooms. I gazed at the carefully kept garden and the grandeur of its interior which characterised a time of exclusive travel and wondered if that would remain amongst the buzz of new Munnar.

But what of the other parts of town – I spoke to a restaurant owner and a small shop keeper, both of whom looked back six years to their start in the town. The restauranteur’s clients were predominantly men taking a break from their jobs driving around the mountains. Wearing long trousers, jumpers and headscarves, they were a contrast to the men of Madurai in their light dhothis, and as they came in, they brought the cold air of the night and with it a sense of fortitude, of hard driving on uncertain roads and the knowledge that they too were essential parts of Munnar’s tea story.

Mistress of spices In the shop I visited, the shelves were

Stage 3 - Foreign particles being removed from the ground tea leaves

stacked with packets of tea. There was little resemblance here to the packets I had sold in London, but these have come straight down from the plantations in the hills above. The type of tea is confined to the individual plantation’s crops but the variety lay in the choice between leaves, broken leaves and dust, all in colourful bags and packets, ready to stand with a household’s other groceries in the kitchen. The shop’s goods could also stock a bathroom cupboard with oils, unguents and powders for aches, headaches and other ills. The ubiquitous spices and nuts – cardamon and cashews – and the welcome sight of mountain chocolate made shopping in the small shops and stalls quite an undertaking.

The world’s highest tea garden Tea is king though, and to find out more about it, I went to the Kolukkumalai Tea Plantation, local tea estates which

is also the highest tea garden in the world. The Kolukkumalai land rises from 6,300 to 8,000 feet and driving up to its upper terraces is not for the faint hearted – or faint liver-ed - as it was without doubt the roughest road I have ever travelled on. More a series of uneven stones in the earth track, like a cobbled street with three-quarters of the cobbles missing, the road wound upwards in chassis challenging bends and turns, up and on and up and on until we reached a ridge above the clouds. I will remember the view from there all my life, looking down on the gently dispersing clouds below us and across immense ranges of unpopulated hills and valleys. I also wondered how it could be possible to live at the end of such an inaccessible route and, even more, how difficult it must be to get the tea down it to its purchasers.

Uphill all the way

I talked to the manager of the estate, N. Johnnynava Kumar, 43, who has worked in the area since 1997, and

Cultivating tea at such a height may seem a challenge now, but the tea bushes in Kolukkumalai were first planted in 1930 and the factory on the

who six months ago, was promoted to the post of manager of the estate. The Kolukkumalai Estate is 500 acres which makes it a small presence in the hills where there are only four local plantation owners, the other three all larger than Kolukkumalai. Only 200 of Kolukkumalai’s acres are under cultivation while the rest are left wild or are the uncultivatable mountain tops themselves. Tea grows easily on the lower terraces but at 6,000 ft, it is much slower growing, but higher grade – it seems that inaccessability translates into better quality. Kolukkumalai’s land is also too high to grow cardamon or coffee, which are part of the output of many other estates, and in some places, the slopes are too steep to be manageable at all.

estate was built in 1935. The only way to reach the building was by the road we had come up, or narrow footpaths, so all the building materials were brought up manually; heavy machinery on bullock carts and steel girders as “head loads.” In this age when even a suitcase does not have to be carried, but can be wheeled, it is difficult to imagine both the determination and the confidence in their task which drove the factory’s builders to complete the work. At that time, the machinery was made in Brtiain, with the makers’ names embossed in the metalwork, and much of it still stands today. Lanarkshire Steel Co. Ltd, Scotland made the girders which hold up the wooden floors and roof, and Marshall & Sons of Gainsborough, England, who were specialists in agricultural machinery, and now no longer in business, made the Marshalls Tubeless Empire Tea Dryer – a successful product, for every estate in India needed a dryer.

Madurai Messenger Cover Story March 2013

“Tea is not a high income business,” Johnny told us and cetainly there are other hazards which can disrupt a plantation’s output. Tea itself is a fairly resilient plant and other than occasional frostbite at high altitudes, the bushes can withstand the buffeting of monsoons and other weather onslaughts. The bushes are not attractive to animals so there is very little human-animal conflict other than the root gnawing tendencies of rodents and porcupines. Forest fires are always a danger but soil erosion, which many conservationists worry about, is counteracted by planting Acacia trees which are fast growing and can act as wind barriers before being cut for fire wood in factory kilns.

Tea cultivation in times of change Stage 4 - Quality Control - dried tea leaves undergoing a grading process

The Kolukkumalai land rises from 6,300 to 8,000 feet and driving up to its upper terraces is not for the faint hearted – or faint liver-ed - as it was without doubt the roughest road I have ever travelled on Stage 5 - the finished product waiting to be packed near the storage hoppers

I asked Johnny about the changes he had seen in the years he has known this area and his first reply was the number of jeeps everywhere. When he first came, he said, there were only two but now there are many more. Most of them are in gleaming new condition and they buzz around the hills ferrying parties of tourists to the hilltop views, tea estates and wildlife areas like a swarm of bees: ever working but returning to the base in the town several times a day. It is the same thing with cars and auto-rickshaws whose numbers he has seen escalating in the last two years. A more serious problem for Jonny is that fewer and fewer people want to become tea pickers. There is so much building work available in Munnar that men can earn more in a day on a building site there than they can in several days in the fields. His estate used to have more than 150 workers, but now there are only 60, and with easy access to television that shows workers the world outside, people are inclined to live their lives beyond the confines of the tea estate. The Kolukkumulai Estate, by commercial standards, is a small operation with just one factory, at the exit to which is a small packing room where an employee decants the tea from the hoppers

where it is stored into the packets carrying the Estate’s name, and the all important stamp of recognition from the Tea Board of India. Tea from all the surrounding estates is sent to nearby Kochi in Kerala where auctions are held every Tuesday and the tea brokers set the price of the crop based on the samples they have tasted. Kolukkumalai is applying for fully recognised organic status which will give its tea an edge in the market. However, they do not sell their tea overseas, sadly for me: I had nurtured the hope of placing regular orders from London to my own private tea supplier, but economics hold sway over sentiment and, as Jonny explained, the cost of sending tea to me would outweigh the cost of producing it. There are clearly many more links I have not seen in the chain that connects this mountain top haven with the cup of tea in my London home.

View from the top - terraced tea gardens nestled among the High Ranges

Passing the baton In a clearly evident contrast to the individualism of Kolukkumalai, I also visited the offices of Kanan Devan Hills Plantations which exude corporate professionalism. This company originated in 1877 when land around Munnar was ceded to British planters and by the 20th century, it had become The James Finlay Company, an important national tea company. In 1976, the Indian goverment restricted foreign ownership of companies in India so the Finlay Company joined with Tata, the well known steel corporation, for their first tea venture. In 2005, the Tatas withdrew from most of their plantations in Munnar and since then, the Kanan Devan Hills Plantation (KDHP) Company Private Limited has become the largest tea corporation in South India. The size of the company’s land holding is impressive – it owns 58,000 acres, which represents approximately 96 percent of the tea growing land in the Munnar area. Around 23,000 acres of this is under cultivation for tea and 20,000 for the firewood which is used in the factory furnaces. The rest of the land is either left wild or is unsuitable for cultivation. There are 18 factories

dotted around the hills producing tea commercially and the company is an institution in the area. I met two representatives of KDHP in their boardroom, replete with trophies for the company’s achievements in tea production and corporate management. With 12,000 employees, this company’s fortunes could have a far reaching impact on the area and I asked the company spokesmen about the problems they might be facing, in particular the lack of interest in tea picking jobs affecting

Kolukkumali. They told me that many of the company’s tea estates are close to the town so the tea pickers do not feel so isolated, and in addition to accommodation on the estates, there are medical benefits for the workers, a school with where 50 percent of the students are the children of company workers (managers and manual workers alike) - working for the company is therefore an attractive option. Employees of KDHP also have shares in the company, and in an unique trend for India, the company is 70 percent owned by its workers.

Madurai Messenger Cover Story March 2013

Now I can go back to the tea shop where I worked and ask whether the tea I buy is from a higher or a lower slope, a broken or a tipped leaf and perhaps, more importantly of all, if it is from Munnar T is for Teamwork - KDHP spokesmen, with the Golden Tea awards in the background, explain the role that the workers-share holders play in the company

Packed, Processed and Packeted

8 Packed for business - the final product ready to be shipped

Corporate Environmental Responsibility As a major landowner, KDHP has assumed responsibility for some of the environmental concerns of the area. The Eravikulam National Park, home to the Nilgiri Tahr, a rare mountain goat, incorporates some of their land, so they coordinate with the Forestry Department over its upkeep and contribute to the cost, paying for twelve of the tribal watchmen employed there. The spokesmen told me about a water cacthment

A shop showcasing Munnar’s diverse tea collection

area which has been turned into a special pool for elephants, its location kept secret to protect the animals’ habitat. Other animals prevalent in the region are deer, bison, panthers and elephants. The latter two have been known to cause problems such as a panther killing domestic goats or dogs and, surprisingly, elephants seeking ash and salt, both of which can be found around tea pickers’ homes. Johnny told the story of a number of workers being alarmed to find their doors being pounded in the night by a single elephant who was going from house to house in search of more salt.

A tea for every person and every taste KDHP, as a large scale producer, also sends its tea to the auctions in Kochi, although disappointingly they told me that even this last bastion of the tea establishment is modernised and much of the auction is conducted by email. In a shop selling the KDHP brands, I was able to see packets with wide ranging prices – the most expensive White Tea and Fannings Silver Tips, and the most popular Clonal Leaf. The shopkeeper could break down his customers’ likes and dislikes into the regions they had come from and I was intrigued to find,

Tea itself is a fairly resilient plant and other than occasional frostbite at high altitudes, the bushes can withstand the buffeting of monsoons and other weather onslaughts

Here is a breakdown of the orthodox* transformation process of a bright green tea leaf into brown flakes or powder sealed in a packet. All the processes are conducted on site in the tea factories dotted around the mountain sides. I asked Jonny how long it would take a leaf I picked today to become the leaf at the bottom of a cup of tea. Here is how it works: 1. The sacks of green leaves are emptied into drying troughs where hot air is blown through them for approximately 8 hours. At the end of this process, the tea leaves will have lost 50 percent of their moisture. 2. The tea from the troughs is fed down a shoot in the floor to rolling machines below. The rolling refers to the action of the machine, not the result on the leaf, and takes about 45 minutes. 3. Fermentation – this is when the leaves are broken, allowing sap to emerge which reacts with the oxygen in the air to turn the leaves brown. Duration 3 hours.

for the first time, a packet of the English favourite; tea bags. For every person and every taste, it seems, there is a tea. World tea price is at a healthy level so things are looking good for Munnar and I felt a little safer knowing there would still be tea in the shops in London, but as I drove away from the magnificent

4. Drying, again – 30 minutes or so, once again reducing weight by half. 5. Fibre extraction – leaves are shaken for 1 hour on power driven meshes to remove twigs, leaf stems and other debris. About 5% of the bulk is lost and the tea is graded at this stage by the size of the meshes it falls through.There are sacks at the side of the meshes to catch the finished product. 6. The tea is stored in hoppers ready to be packaged and distributed for sale. Driving around the hillsides I was occasionally overwhelmed by the aroma of tea in the air; it is as evocative a smell as jasmine or damp earth. In fact, fresh tea does not smell and it takes about three weeks after processing for the tea to mature and the well known aroma to emerge. * There is also an unorthodox process known as CTC – cutting, turning and curling.

mountain scenery I thought of all the people I had met. The graceful women picking tea, the kind jeep driver, Johnny and the cloud high views of Kollukumalai, the cheerful shop keeper, the quiet workers in the factory, the hotelier and the restauranteur and the band of unseen tasters and auctioneers and all the others in the chain that carry tea from these hills

to all the places of its consumption. It is a vast international enterprise and clearly putting a packet of tea on the shelf of a London shop does not happen by chance. Now I can go back to the tea shop where I worked and ask whether the tea I buy is from a higher or a lower slope, a broken or a tipped leaf and perhaps, most importantly of all, if it is from Munnar.

Madurai Messenger A Day in the Life of March 2013

On the Tea Trail Getting to the bottom of the tea story, Isabelle Brotherton-Ratcliffe meets the tea pickers, the most indispensable link in the tea chain and finds that though they are very happy with their simple and humble lives in the clean mountain air, like everyone else, they also have bigger dreams for their children By Isabelle Brotherton-Ratcliffe United Kingdom

No time for tea breaks - tea picker Anjana Devi speaks to MM on her job

Lightening the burden - modern tea picking tools which increase efficiency and reduce drudgery

Ready for the grind Anjana Devi’s day begins at 5.00 a.m. when she gets up to prepare breakfast for the family, and the rice she will take with her for her lunch, and walks to whichever part of the estate she is required to work at that day. Tea pickers generally work in the areas of the estate closest to where they live, but in the larger plantations, this can still mean commuting some distance. Today Anjana Devi has walked three kilometres to reach her assigned location, and is ready to start work at 8.00 a.m.

Tea picker - volunteer Hanae Araki tries her hand at tea picking

riving around Munnar, the views all around is of the lime green tea terraces and the wilder mountain tops above them. Among gleaming acres of bright green, there are spots of other colours, reds, yellows and browns, seen on the hillsides - the brigades of women tea pickers at work. They are the first workers in the chain of those whose lives are shaped by the tea growing around them; picking the

leaves which will be transformed in the factories to brown dust, sealed in packets and sent to quench the thirst of tea drinkers in every continent. I wanted to learn more about the life and work of these women and talked to Anjana Devi, 35, who works as a tea picker on the Matappatty Tea Estate, part of the larger Kanan Devan Hills Plantation Company in Munnar. Anjana Devi’s husband also works on

the plantation, (working with tea is his family tradition) and they live with their two children in accommodation provided by the company on the estate. Anjana Devi is originally from Tamil Nadu but she came to Munnar ten years ago following her marriage and has been working here ever since. She is a tall, soft spoken and graceful woman, looking younger than her years, and answered my questions with courtesy and patience.

Tea picking is traditionally a job for women, while the men on the estate are employed in the heavier work of digging, manuring, irrigating and preparing fields to be uprooted and re-planted. Anjana Devi and her colleagues report to their supervisor, who has received instructions from the estate manager about the fields to be picked today. The picking rotation follows a 21-day cycle which is the time it takes for a tea bush to sprout a fresh growth of young green leaves.

If the field she is working in is close enough to her home, Anjana Devi returns home for lunch but otherwise she and the other women make a colourful group for any passing motorist to see – and serve as a reminder of the source of the tea we all drink so often Anjana Devi has dressed for work in a simple cotton sari, but then has a protective apron made of thick plastic wrapped around her to prevent her clothes being torn by the twigs and branches of the bushes she is leaning over. If the tea bushes were allowed to grow to full height they would become trees, but in the early days of tea cultivation, it was discovered that pruning the bushes improved their growth, and eventually an optimum height for the bushes was established combining the most productive growth rate and easiest picking level. The height at which the bushes should be maintained forms the plucking table, and is generally at a fairly comfortable waist height which eliminates too much

back bending for the pickers. Anjana Devi’s shoes are flip fop sandals which she needs to protect her feet among the densely packed bushes and their thick roots, and finally, to protect her head from the sun she has a long scarf wound around her head. Tea picking is a year-round job so there is employment throughout the year for the pickers, although there are variations between the months. In winter, the new leaves are smaller and in February, March and April the picking is done by hand, while for the rest of the year, pickers use specially designed shears. The shears have a small metal box attached to the right blade, which collects the clipped leaves. Anjana

Madurai Messenger A Day in the Life of March 2013

The Way of Tea Japanese national Hanae Araki was just 7 years old when she participated in the famous Japanese tea ceremony. She recalls her grand mother, an expert in the tea ceremony, tell her that fellowship, hospitality, harmony, and the attitude of gratitude are what this timeless Japanese ritual is all about By Hanae Araki Japan

t all started with one cup of powdered green tea. Only 7 or 8 years old at that time, I awkwardly picked up the tea cup and rotated it clockwise twice. As the unique aroma reached my nostrils, it made me sit up straighter. I slowly drank the steaming tea and soon the bitterness spread through my mouth. The whole experience tasted rather bitter for such a young child. I had trouble finishing off my tea.

12 Freshly collected sacks of tea being collected in the evening

Japanese Heritage Devi and her fellow workers have their own individual nylon bags lying either on top of the bushes or on the ground nearby, which they fill from the shears’ clippings. When the bag is full, it weighs about 40 kilos and Anjana Devi carries it on her head down to a weighing station. Pickers are paid Rs. 185 per day for 22 kilos picked, with 40 paise for the next 10 kilos; 60 paise for the next 10 kilo and 150 paise for any kilo or 10 kilos ? after that.

improved upon in this well worn skill. Some plantations have introduced a form of mechanised harvesting but as the tea bushes are too densely planted to allow any machinery between them, the most that is possible is using electric trimmers to shear off the tops of the bushes. For Anjana Devi, the shears and nylon bags are the tools of her trade and she uses them with the skill of practice and assurance of experience.

Gone are the days of the traditional image of tea picking women with baskets on their backs. The baskets were used because the leaves collected in them remained unbroken until they reached the factory and the flavour was retained but became heavier as the women’s day progressed. The nylon bags emulate the basket’s advantage quite well but do not have to be carried by the women at all times. This may not seem like a big change in working procedure, but there is little that can be

Tea picking struck me as quite an interactive job as Anjana Devi and her colleagues are able to work in groups together and chat as they work their way across the field. At noon they stop for a lunch break and gather on the grassy banks or roadside to eat and rest before returning to work at 2.00 p.m. If the field she is working in is close enough to her home, Anjana Devi can go home for lunch but otherwise she and the other women make a colourful group for any passing motorist to see – and serve as a

Fellowship of Tea Pickers

reminder of the source of the tea we may drink with our own lunches. At 5.00 p.m. Anjana Devi’s day in the fields is done and she takes her last bag to the collection point to have it credited to her total. Then it is a long walk home, preparation of supper, and bed. For myself, I could not imagine an evening at home without a cup of tea but when I asked Anjana Devi – and her friends – if they drank much tea themselves, they all laughed. We don’t have time, they said. Anjana Devi said she was happiest in her job, perhaps understandably, when the leaves were abundant and also when she could work on the lower rather than the upper slopes of the hills. She agreed that it is a healthy environment in which to work, but when I asked her whether she would like her children to follow in her footsteps, she shook her head. She hopes they will become engineers or doctors. I wonder if they will remember, every time they drink a cup of tea, their mother’s life in the fields.

Yet, I loved being part of a tea ceremony, especially the moment when I got to savor the powdered green tea. It made me feel as if I were a woman, not a mere child. In that moment, I became conscious of my Japanese heritage. That moment was my initiation to the world of the Japanese tea ceremony. It was similar to the moment an Indian girl starts learning how to cook using various spices or herbs, which opens her to the world of tradition and culture of Indian food. Just as Indians have been using spices and herbs since ancient times, from food to Ayurveda massages, the history of the tea ceremony in Japan dates back 1200 years. Around that time, tea was introduced to Japan from China, and since then the Japanese have found various ways to enjoy powdered green tea. The green tea powder itself, which is usually dissolved in hot water to drink, can be used as an ingredient in not only Japanese sweets and cooking but also in

Preserving a tradition - the hostess wears a traditional Kimono while making the tea

Western sweets. Its unique bitterness is essential for the Japanese just as spices are to Indian food.

A health drink Because of the popularity of powdered green tea as well as non powdered green tea, Japan has become the second largest producer of green tea after China, producing 83,000 tons annually while India produces only 9,000 tons. Just as black tea is very popular in India or U.K., green tea itself has been quite familiar in Japan. It really complements Japanese food and is said to be good for health. For instance, the catechins (a group of flavonoids) in the tea help to

lower cholesterol within the blood and in the prevention of cancer, which is the reason green tea is becoming more and more popular all over the world.

A spirit of harmony Although an old proverb says “good medicine tastes bitter,” some people might find it difficult to adjust to the bitterness of powdered green tea itself. And yet, you can enjoy a tea ceremony in many other ways. For there are various aspects to a tea ceremony: the flower arrangements for a tea ceremony room, the traditional Japanese clothes which usually consist of ceremonial clothing, tea utensils such as tea cups

Madurai Messenger Heritage March 2013

or tea ladle and sweets to be served along with the tea. All these different aspects harmonize with each other and show the host’s accomplishments and attitude toward the tea ceremony. A tea ceremony, therefore, is not only about making and drinking tea but about the ambience as well. A good hostess chooses tools and sweets and plans the assortment according to the day’s scheme, the season or guests.

Thank you so much! The hostess serving a cup of tea to a guest

The essence of a tea ceremony

The tea cup and other utensils used in the tea ceremony

Only 7 or 8 years old at that time, I awkwardly picked up the tea cup and rotated it clockwise twice. As the unique aroma reached my nostrils, it made me sit up straighter

“In a tea ceremony, creating this harmony is really difficult,” says my grandmother who used to work for a company making Japanese traditional sweets and has attended many tea ceremonies as one of the hosts. She recalls the experience of serving a cup of tea to a person of rank when she had not yet been fully trained in the tea ceremony. Her hands quivered with anxiety and she had nearly spilt the tea! What helped her may have been the daily lessons and the essence of a tea ceremony - the spirit of hospitality. “While making and serving a cup of tea, I am made aware of the gratitude for everything, even the smallest things! We tend to forget this, don’t we?” said my grandmother, explaining why she loves the tea ceremony.

“While making and serving a cup of tea, I am made aware of the gratitude for everything, even the smallest things! We tend to forget this, don’t we?” said my grandmother, explaining why she loves the tea ceremony

Traditional sweets called chagashi which are served with the tea

A spirit of fellowship On the other hand, guests are supposed to feel the earnestness of the person hosting the tea ceremony and enjoy it together. Even the conversation and behaviour of both the host and guests is a part of the tea ceremony. For both the host and the guest, there are many rules to follow in a tea ceremony, from the moment you cross the threshold of a tea ceremony room till the moment you leave it. Rotating a tea cup clockwise twice is also one of the rules, the purpose of which is for people around you to appreciate the design of the teacup while you are drinking tea. But, what is more important than those rules is the attitude to the ceremony itself. Factors such as attending many tea

ceremonies help one to get used to the atmosphere and enjoy it. Of course, it would be desirable that you show impeccable manners. But if you lack this while enjoying a tea ceremony, you will end up only with exhaustion. If you are a beginner, you can behave like one. Or if you don’t know how to behave, you can ask the people sitting nearby. As what is most important for the hosts is the spirit of hospitality, the only thing you need to have is simply the correct attitude to enjoy and appreciate a tea ceremony. Thus, both the hospitality of hosts and the appreciation of guests are essential for a tea ceremony to become a comprehensive art. Through just one cup of tea, we can see the depth

of Japanese culture: the spirit of harmony and the beauty to be found in simplicity. As I began to participate in more tea ceremonies, I found myself enjoying the bitterness of the powdered green tea which was difficult for me to enjoy at the beginning. Likewise, the more tea ceremonies you attend, the more you learn to enjoy them. The difficulties you experience in a tea ceremony can turn into enjoyment as time goes by. Just as you don’t know how spicy a spice is until you eat it, you don’t know how bitter and tasty it is. Unfortunately, how much ever a good writer I can be, I cannot get across to you the real taste: Everything starts with one cup of powdered green tea!

Madurai Messenger Revival March 2013

Malligai: The Pride of Madurai

buds which they then weave into garlands. Others however see it as a lowly task which they do not wish their children to take up, but many women appreciate the independence the money they earn gives them.

Isabelle Brotherton-Ratcliffe chats with Dr Uma Kannan, whose recent book Madurai Malligai: Madurai and its Jasmine, is a tribute to a floral tradition epitomized by the malligai or jasmine that is synonymous with Madurai By Isabelle Brotherton-Ratcliffe United Kingdom

ho has not seen the flower sellers of Madurai? They are as integral a part of the city as the Meenakshi Temple and the flowers they sell impart fragrance to the air while the strings and garlands of jasmine hanging from their stalls are as familiar to Madurai-ites as rickshaws and cows.

Madurai Malli: Celebrating Jasmine

Madurai malli has recently been awarded the Geographical Indication label that gives legal protection to the jasmine growers and entitles them to label their produce Madurai jasmine – a byword for quality

Dr Uma Kannan, long-time Madurai resident and Secretary of Thiagarajar College, felt the story of jasmine was worth recording and has recently published a book Madurai Malligai; Madurai and its Jasmine.

Reviving endangered tradition Dr Uma Kannan explained that her project began in 2005 when she and fellow members of the Madurai branch of INTACH (Indian National Trust for Art and Cultural Heritage), an organization supported by volunteers who seek to preserve endangered traditions and crafts, felt it was necessary to promote the old skill of stringing jasmine. In the face of new flowers being imported to Madurai, it seemed the popularity of jasmine might decline. She proposed a series of workshops, to be conducted by a master jasmine weaver from Coimbatore, to teach flower sellers of Madurai new kinds of knot tying in order to vary and renew their techniques. Uma researched different representations of jasmine in designs taken from textiles, paintings, floor tiles and other sources to find new ways of showcasing the flower,

Author Dr.Uma Kannan

and supplied the flower sellers with enough buds for them to practice new knot tying skills. From this focus on the skills of the jasmine weavers, Uma found there was a bigger story to explore and undertook research on further aspects of the flower’s story, as well as the lives of its sellers. In particular, Uma was keen to raise the profile of the jasmine sellers who are so much a part of the Madurai

flowerscape, but are often ignored by the people who pass them daily. The many-splendoured jasmine Jasmine has been grown around Madurai for many years and thrives on the moist and sandy soil of the area. In a region where food production is at a premium, jasmine may seem a less important crop, but in fact, it brings prosperity at many levels of the community. For farmers, jasmine is a

In particular, Uma was keen to raise the profile of the jasmine sellers who are so much a part of the Madurai flowerscape, but are often ignored by the people who pass them daily

profitable crop, and its only pest is the stick-bug, against which it can, to some extent, be protected.

on to Singapore, Malaysia, and Dubai where the flowers are in demand for temple decoration.

There are over 80 species of jasmine in India but in Madurai there are three main types; two are used for flower sales and a third which is used for perfumery. Some of the big European perfume manufacturers visit Madurai regularly to obtain jasmine for their products, but in her book Uma has chosen to concentrate on the local uses for jasmine. Some of this is taken up in locally sold cosmetics such as soap, shampoo and oil, or for incense sticks, but the bulk of the crop is sold as flowers.

The buds sold locally are wrapped in banana leaves which keep both the scent and the flowers fresh. Traditionally the flowers are then packed in palm leaf baskets. Inevitably modernisation is creeping in at all stages of the process and Uma laments the current move away from the traditional baskets. If they are no longer required, it will mean a loss of employment for the weavers as well as the loss of another old skill. They are still as effective as they ever were, she argues, and preferable to plastic which causes a problem when it is discarded.

Jasmine flowers all the year round so there is constant employment for the pickers: their day starts at 4.00 a.m. in order to pick the buds before they open. Jasmine must be sold on the day it is picked as it can only be kept fresh for 24 hours; the transport network, therefore, has to be extremely efficient. There are regular flights to Chennai and

In addition to researching the history and business of jasmine, Madurai Malligai also contains detailed sections on knot tying –with illustrations for those who may wish to try it themselves—and on weaving. There are many photographs demonstrating the different ways jasmine garlands are used to decorate temples and houses and finally - unexpectedly for me –a section on using jasmine in cooking! I had heard of jasmine tea, but Madurai Malligai goes further with intriguing recipes for jasmine syrup and the ways in which this can be used. In a fitting finale to the jasmine story, and a neat coincidence of timing, Madurai Malli has now been awarded a Geographical Indication label. This gives legal protection to the jasmine growers and entitles them to label their produce Madurai jasmine – a byword for quality. Farmers were pleased with this endorsement of their crop, which will be confirmed in a presentation ceremony in April.

An intricate art

In her introduction, Uma Kannan writes, “Very few places in India, or elsewhere, are as closely linked with a flower as Madurai is with the malligai.” It seems fitting therefore that there should be a publication recording this relationship and the book is the first of its kind. It serves as a valuable document of Madurai jasmine as well as a tribute to the skills of the people who work with the flower. It is lavishly illustrated with splendid photographs, all taken in the Madurai area, and will be a welcome addition to the books on Madurai’s cultural heritage.

It is at this stage that the flower sellers come into the story, and this is perhaps the heart of Madurai Malligai. The flower sellers have many different backgrounds, life stories and attitudes. Some were particularly proud of their dexterity in tying the strings of jasmine

Madurai Malligai: Madurai and its Jasmine by Dr. Uma Kannan is published by Thiagarajar College and is available from the college and from bookshops in Chennai. Price: Rs. 600

Madurai Messenger Conservation March 2013

Nilgiri Tahr: Mountain Acrobats Loretta Dean writes about her first encounter with the shy elusive mountain goat—the highly endangered Nilgiri Tahr in Eravikulam National Park, Munnar that has the largest viable population of these ungulates. After her close encounters with these fleet footed hoofed animals, she says that she agrees with field biologist George Schaller who described them as “Mountain Monarchs” By Loretta Dean United Kingdom

Eravikulam National Park - the last refuge of the Nilgiri tahr

There is something fitting about the tahr and its territory. An air of grandeur is maintained by both species and setting

Face to face with the Tahr As we climb further up the sun-baked tracks to the high rolling plateau that forms the main body of the park, our bus shudders to a stop. Tourist traffic is brought to a halt as the legendary tahr struts before us. A welcome, I’m sure, but the majestic creature has already shown us who the real “mountain monarchs” are. We oblige. Stationary, awe-struck subjects, desperate for a better view of this elusive mountain goat.

The Nilgiri tahr, ‘monarchs of the mountains’

s we make the vertical ascent through the High Ranges of Munnar, Kerala, around the vast, undulating slopes of the teeming tea plantations, you must forgive me for thinking that I have entered the sculpted garden of a prized landscaper. After all, the Eravikulam National Park is renowned for being “the cleanest park in India” and a home to stunning views, rare foliage and, let’s not forget, the endangered Nilgiri Tahr (Nilgiritragus hylocrius),endemic to the Western Ghats.

The steep slopes contained in the 97 square kilometers of Eravikulam National Park provide a sanctuary for the shy, skittish Nilgiri Tahr. But don’t make the mistake of thinking that this extraordinary creature is a mere goat. Rather, this special species shares an evolutionary link between the primitive goat antelopes, sheep, and true goats. With instinct as a guide, the endangered Nilgiri tahr execute acrobatic leaps as they seek refuge in the steep terrain of the park which protects them from their natural predators: the leopard and the wild dog.

There is something fitting about the tahr and its territory. An air of grandeur is maintained by both species and setting. The curved crescents that protrude from the crown of the tahr emulate the contour of the hillocks carpeted in tea. Ashgrey, it is clear that the relationship between tahr and terrain continues through the camouflage of coarse fur that coats its stocky frame. The Tahr moves on, munching at a clump of grass and our vehicle pulls away reluctantly. Stark mountains tower above us and rocky outcrops jut from the vast, surrounding grasslands that are interspersed with thickets of stunted shola forests. High elevation evergreen forests interspersed with grasslands provide a shola paradise that is unique to this altitude of

Face to face with an enigma - a Nilgiri tahr at close quarters

Madurai Messenger Conservation March 2013

An interesting relationship appears to have developed between the tourists and the tahr. “The goats come to watch the humans and the humans come to watch the goats,” laughs R. Raju at this unexpected inquisitiveness

As I strain for a final glimpse, I can’t help agreeing with conservationist George B. Schaller that the Nilgiri Tahr are true “mountain monarchs”

Tourists pose a continuous threat to the endangered tahr

21 over 2000 metres; a magnificent habitat for such a majestic creature. Perhaps, then, it is no wonder that the Eravikulam National Park is home to the largest surviving population of Nilgiri Tahr. Visitors filter from the bus at Rajamala in the tourism zone and we find ourselves at the forefront of an extravagant display of colour. Sunlight and chlorophyll is in abundance, and an array of shades engulfs us in a sea of green. A light breeze stirs the long, dried grasses that trace the line of the path. My skin is tickled by the golden stems: lustrous embellishments for the abode of the majestic tahr. A bridle path leads us up into the mountains. “No noise” reads one of the many signs bordering the tracks, a reminder of the delicate balance of the surrounding beauty and the danger we pose. “The problems are with the college students” informs R. Raju, a 24-year-old Forest Watcher currently employed by the Animal Forest Development Agency and KDHP (Kanan Devan Hills Plantations Private Ltd.) Tea. Up to fifty watchers have been deployed by the Forest Department and KDHP (which succeeded Tata Tea Limited in 2005 as the largest tea corporate in South India), in a Forest Alliance, a joint forest management program. One of the twelve watchers paid by KDHP, it is R. Raju’s duty to manage and protect the surrounding area for eight hours every day. Although there are visual warnings, watchers are particularly concerned about noise pollution. “The tahr do not like noise and are easily disturbed,” says Raju.

Conservation Efforts In response to the growing concern surrounding the tourist’s presence, action was taken and the Chief Wildlife Warden of Kerala ordered the closure of the Eravikulam National Park for the calving season of the Nilgiri tahr. During the early months of each year, the park remains off limits during a two month period. “This gives the young kids a chance to grow before April,” explains R. Raju. Nilgiri tahrs give birth to just one young at a time during a single birthing season which occurs every year. With research indicating that mortality is highest during the month of birth, closure of the park during the calving period is clearly integral to the survival of the tahr population and an important measure in the protection of this endangered species, red listed by the IUCN (International Union Conservation of Nature).

Tahr-human Inteface At the moment, however, it seems that current warden, B. Sariju, is right in his belief that the park is “perfectly balanced” with a “carrying capacity” in all areas. Although natural control plays its part as predators curb the population to a “natural balance”, an interesting relationship appears to have developed between the tourists and the tahr. “The goats come to watch the humans and the humans come to watch the goats,” laughs R. Raju at this unexpected inquisitiveness. Raju’s observation appears to be true and the Nilgiri tahr have remained approachable since research scientist, Dr Clifford G. Rice, conducted a two-year study of the species, habituating

them to his constant presence in order to study them from a closer range. In his article, To Be One of the Herd, Rice describes how he gradually coaxed the skittish ungulates near enough to be studied. “It took a little salt and lots of patience,” he writes. As we see this incredible beast bask in the sunlight that shrouds its mountainous fort, it is difficult to believe that, in 1880, a writer once disclosed his concern that, “the day is not far when they would become extinct.” Common victims to the poacher’s snare, it was only by 1972 that the tahr received protection by law, with Eravikulam National Park declared as a sanctuary for the endangered mountain goats in 1975. Today, with the help of conservation, education, awareness building and the strict enforcement of protection measures, the results have been positive. The current population of Nilgiri tahr in the Eravikulam National Park is estimated at around 700 and fears of extinction have gradually diminished. While issues remain, such as the disturbing presence of tourists, pollution, the spread of disease and the encroaching of already fragmented, specialised habitat, tourism is helping fund conservation efforts to counter these concerns. We turn out of the tourist centre to find ourselves graced again by the presence of Eravikulam’s most esteemed inhabitant. The magnificent creature looks on, guarding its territory, and as I strain for a final glimpse, I can’t help agreeing with conservationist George B. Schaller that the Nilgiri Tahr are true “mountain monarchs.”

Warden, B. Sariju, explains the natural balance held in the National Park Watchers keep post at the Eravikulam National Park

Madurai Messenger Conservation March 2013

Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary: Bonding with Nature Florian Thomas wanders around Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary and discovers that bonding with Nature and sensitivity to sustainable conservation initiatives and issues are more important while visiting a wildlife sanctuary rather than just the thrill of sighting animals in the wild By Florian Thomas France

Baby Kurian, the beat Forest Officer at the Chinnar Wildlife sanctuary

A bird’s eye view of the Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary

he Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary, nestled among the Western Ghats mountain range in Idukki district of Kerala, was created in August 1984 to protect the fauna and flora of the region, including several endangered species. It is one of the five parks in the region, along with Eravikulam National Park, Kurinjimala Sanctuary, Anamudi Shola National

park and Indira Gandhi Wildlife Sanctuary. The Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary is situated 60 kms from Munnar in the southern Western Ghats and lies between Kerala and Tamil Nadu. Due to its presence in the rain shadow area of the Western Ghats, the climate here greatly differs from the other sanctuaries in Kerala. The climate as well as the vegetation

varies according to the altitude with the plains being generally hot while the higher altitudes experience cooler climatic conditions. The rich vegetation ranges from dry forests, to the sholas and the grasslands and supports a variety of fauna. The altitudes vary between 500 metres at Chinnar and 2300 metres in Nandala Malai. The area is fed by the Pambar and Chinnar rivers.

The Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary is ideal for trekkers with around 90 sq. kilometres of the park demarcated for tourists to explore and enjoy while the rest is left wild and untouched. Walking alone is not permitted, and tourists have to be accompanied by a guide. Machans or tree houses enable tourists to stay overnight and allow them to enjoy seeing the different wild animals when they come to the water pools to drink at dusk or at dawn. A watchtower in the park provides visitors a panoramic view of the sanctuary. The park is open from 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. so that visitors who don’t prefer to stay in the tree houses, can come early in

the morning to see the animals drinking from the water pool. But there are some animals which come to drink only in the evening, so it’s better to make inquiries beforehand. The park is controlled by the national government, through the state Forest Department and is funded by the government together with contributions from the World Wildlife Fund. In 2006, India applied to the UNESCO MAB (Man and Biosphere Programme) to include the Western Ghats in the list of World Heritage Sites. In July 2012, 39 sites in the Western Ghats including 20 sites in Kerala were accorded ‘World Heritage Site’ status at a meeting of UNESCO members at St. Petersburg.

Sustainable conservation initiatives Baby Kurian, the Beat Forest Officer working for the Kerala Forest Department told us that there are 34 species of animals, including 118 elephants, 120 sambar deer, 240 grizzled giant squirrels, 6 tigers, 12 leopards, 227 chital and 93 barking deer in the reserve. Moreover, there are also 245 species of birds, 52 species of reptiles, 42 types of fish and 156 kinds of butterflies. The Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary is also one of the main habitats of the grizzled giant squirrel, which is endemic to the Western Ghats. The grizzled giant squirrel, a species which has been accorded a Near Threatened (NT) status by the International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN), has pride of place in the Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary and is also the symbol of the park. The fauna and flora are diverse and the job of the forest officials is to protect the ecosystem of this zone, including the valuable sandalwood trees, which are often the target of smugglers.

Madurai Messenger Conservation March 2013

Bonding with nature - Members of the Thaiyankudi tribe with their head Thayan (extreme left)

Elephant Walk - an elephant matriarch with her calves

The head of the community, Thayan, told us, “We are living in close harmony with all the animals and with mutual respect” In order to implement this, there are 65 employees in the park, 25 of whom work in the area around the entry point. Littering inside the park is totally forbidden and one of the jobs of the park staff posted at the exit point is to check that visitors don’t steal any plants!

Monkeying around - a pair of common langurs at the Chinnar Wildlife Santuary

Sustainable conservation and development continue to be the main objective of the park and the members of the tribal settlements which dot the fringes of the sanctuary are also involved in the conservation efforts through Eco Development Committees. As the park also consists of dry forests, the Forest Department, in addition to preventing poaching of the wildlife, also guards against the threat of forest fires. The tribal groups are also enrolled in this task, acting as fire watchers and animal watchers and thanks to them, the Forest department has a good idea about the movements of the animals in the park.

In return, the Forest Department runs programs to help the tribal people have a sustainable livelihood. The tribals are allowed to raise crops such as maize, ragi and lemongrass inside their settlements.

Bonding with Nature We met some members of the Thaiyankudi community, one of the tribal settlements inside the Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary. The head of the community, Thayan, told us, “We are living in close harmony with all the animals and with mutual respect.” They said that they don’t harm the wild animals and the animals are not a threat to them either. Pointing out that the only animals which show no respect to anyone are the monkeys and they warned us against the thieving simians which jump on the cars of visitors and may try to steal food if you leave your car doors open! They also told us that it is very difficult to see animals like tigers within the 90 sq metres area reserved for the tourists. Apparently there are a lot of wild animals which never come here. In

their settlements, the tribals can spot the tigers at such close proximity as to enable them to distinguish between the various animals. As the tribals have an intimate knowledge of all the watering holes within the sanctuary, it is easy for them to find the wild animals. The places which the tigers frequent are not accessible to visitors and special permission from the Forest Department is needed to visit these areas. There are several foreigners who come to see the wild animals in the Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary. We met Mr.Dan from Birmingham in England who is on a four-month trip to India. He was one among a group of French and German tourists who were planning to spend the night in a tree house in the hope of spotting a few of the wild animals. According to the Forest Warden, the most popular animals, the ones people want to see the most, are the wild elephants, a group of which we could only get a glimpse of in the distance. Our solitary encounter with the wildlife in the sanctuary was some wild bison which we saw lurking among the trees

as our car sped past them. Ecotourism activities are organized jointly by the Forest Department and the Eco Development Committees of the tribal communities. The program offers visitors a unique opportunity to see wild animals, besides providing a means of sustainable livelihood for the local tribes. The ecotourism activities include trekking to the riverside, to the dolmens, which are the megalithic burial sites of the tribal communities and to Thoovanam falls. There is also a nature trail to the watch-tower, a safari trail across Chinnar valley and a conducted tour. You can stay at log houses at Churulippety, Kootar and Thoovanam or at machans at Koottar and Karakkad. The Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary is a little cocoon, away from the polluted cities and concrete jungles, where the unique fauna and flora of the region can thrive in their own habitat. It is also a haven for those tourists who want to discover the wild with respect; but a word of advice to visitors, it is not a zoo and you may not with certainty be able to spot all the animals that you hoped to see.

Madurai Messenger Profile March 2013

The Tahr and I: Eminent Field

sought a solution which would enable him to observe the creatures from a close range.

Biologist Dr. Clifford Rice

The Indian connection

In an exclusive interview to Madurai Messenger, eminent American field biologist Dr Clifford Rice, an authority on wild mountain goats across the world, talks to Loretta Dean, about his fascination for the Nilgiri tahr, the high altitude mountain goat in Southern India—a fascination that dates back to three generations of his family who had lived in India By Loretta Dean United Kingdom

The Tahr and I - a young Dr Clifford Rice with his pet fascination, the Nilgiri Tahr

Rice had always held a strong connection with India, becoming the third generation in his family to work here. His grandfather, Ray Rice, had been the first and had travelled to Damoh, Madhya Pradesh, in the late 1800s as part of a famine relief mission. In 1917 Donald Rice was born, later attending Kodaikanal School before he began a career as a medical missionary where he served as the sole doctor at Mission Hospital, Damoh until 1955. A short stint in Berkley enabled Donald Rice to obtain his Masters in Public Health before he returned to India. In Punjab, Donald Rice taught at the Christian Medical College in Ludhiana until 1960, which he followed up with various medical projects, including work in Delhi on Family Planning with the Ford Foundation. Perhaps it is no wonder then that Clifford Rice’s interest in wildlife conservation and the Indian subcontinent began at an early age. Born in Bilaspur, Madhya Pradesh, Rice grew up in India where he attended Woodstock School in Mussoorie until the age of ten, when his family returned to the US. Much of his childhood was spent immersed in nature, and Rice enjoyed hunting, camping and fishing, and exploring the wilderness that surrounded him. It was only while studying Wildlife Management at college that Rice realised much of the wildlife, so familiar with him back in India, had not yet been studied.

n the early 1980s, a young American field biologist embarked on a two-year study of the endangered Nilgiri tahr. High in the elevations of the Eravikulam National Park, Kerala, Clifford Rice spent his days navigating the lush green hillocks of the Indian plateau, interposed by jutting outcrops of rock, in search of the fleet-footed ungulates. Equipped

with his spotting scope, Rice would venture from his cottage in the middle of the park, braving the onslaught of galeforce winds and torrential rain that drove down from the moody, steel-grey sky of the monsoon, in the hope of finding a herd. It took almost a year before he was finally able approach the skittish creatures and observe them up close.

“Theory and practice do not always mesh,” wrote Rice in his article, ‘To Be One of the Herd’, for the International Wildlife magazine, “Especially when the theory does not account for monsoons.” So when the veil of mist and rain fell across the High Ranges, hindering any advance in the observation of the Nilgiri tahr, Rice

Following his B.A. in Biology, Rice completed his M.Sc in Zoology at Colorado State University, before travelling to Nepal as a Peace Corps Volunteer for a national park assignment. From Nepal, Rice travelled on to India, scoping locations for research. Kashmir (Dachigam), Assam (Kaziranga, Manas), Maharashtra (Gir, Velavadar), Madhya Pradesh (Kanha), and Tamil Nadu (Mudumalai), were all

Balancing act - a Nilgiri Tahr perches precariously on a rock at the Eravikulam National Park

reviewed. However, it was only after visiting Kerala that Rice decided upon his station for research; Eravikulam National Park. Located in the High Ranges on the crest of the Western Ghats, this location was, “pretty unique” containing the highest density and largest surviving population of endangered Nilgiri tahr.

An act of faith Dr Clifford G Rice is a remarkable biologist with an equally remarkable story. During a period that spanned until 1983, Rice succeeded in habituating a subpopulation of tahr in the Eravikulam

National Park, Kerala, in an effort he was to call an “act of faith.” This sense of conviction, teamed with great dedication to his subject and the resourceful use of salt enabled Rice to complete his study, despite the forces set against him. High on the crest of the Western Ghats where “it really pours,” Rice contended with the monsoon’s assault, while his observation of the tahr required him to work in the elements with up to 4 metres of rainfall per year. Habituation gradually enabled Rice to move among the herd of tahr with the novel use of salt. Meanwhile planters

Just born - A Nilgiri Tahr kid at Eravikulam National Park

Madurai Messenger Profile March 2013

Home is Where the Food is Loretta Dean meets Geetha and Radhakrishnan, popularly known as Radhu Maami, co-hosts of Srirangam Radhu, a culinary video show on YouTube that has millions of Tamil NRI fans across the globe By Loretta Dean United Kingdom

T 28 Across the oceans- Loretta Dean skyping with Dr.Clifford Rice

from the surrounding tea plantations had been putting out salt to attract the tahr for years and seeing this, Rice realised he could use the practice to good effect. “They have a tremendous appetite for salt,” says Clifford Rice. The slushy salt solution provided an essential lure, coaxing the timid ungulates closer and habituating them to his presence.

The rewards of persistence and patience It was only after using the salt that work accelerated for Rice and his observations became particularly successful. The efforts of Clifford Rice clearly demonstrate the importance of commitment. “You have to be committed,” explains Rice. “You won’t get positive feedback during the short term and you have to wait long enough to accomplish you goals.” After a full year of his study, Rice had begun to achieve results, and the success of the habituation process became evident. Rice was finally able to move among the tahr, with or

without salt. The “act of faith” had brought its rewards.

On neutral ground When asked whether he felt accepted by the herd, Rice laughed, choosing “ignored” as a “better word.” But this was the “neutral relationship” he strove for, wanting neither to attract nor distract the creatures. To accurately observe the behavior and ecology of the Nilgiri tahr, Rice became a “fly on the wall” and immediately stopped putting out salt when he identified an association they had begun to develop between him and their favorite saline solution. “It was having an impact I didn’t want,” concedes Rice. Upon subsequent visits, Rice has found the Nilgiri tahr at Eravikulam National Park to be “just as flighty.” Although tourists are often able to get close to the creatures, Rice believes the practice of using salt as a lure is to be discontinued, which is “just as well,” he adds. Dr Clifford Rice’s determination, focus

and dedication to conservation and research development is impressive, not to mention his talented control of prose manifest in the large collection of work he has authored, featuring in various scientific publications. His project on the Nilgiri tahr alone resulted in over ten scientific publications and became the focus of his Ph.D dissertation at Texas A&M University, delivering invaluable contributions to the field which provided the scientific community with new information on the elusive species, endemic to the Western Ghats. Scientific knowledge alone was not all Rice acquired from the years spent tracking tahr at the Eravikulam National Park, and he would never forget his years among them. “Whatever I learned about the animals,” wrote Clifford Rice in reflection, “my inability to communicate with the tahr, along with the unrelenting baptism of the monsoon, taught me the great rewards of patience.”

he catalyst for a multitude of contemporary success stories, You Tube, has been behind some of society’s latest stars, supplying cyber screen hits to a global audience. With over 3000 subscribers and almost 2.5 million video views, it may be difficult to believe that Radhu Mami’s story is different. But it is. Rather than searching for fame or fortune, Geetha and her husband Radhakrishnan, collectively known online as ’geetradhu’, are a modest, friendly couple who stumbled across an international fan base of NRI (NonResident Indian) Tamils after posting their first cookery demonstration on the video-sharing website.

Nostalgic cravings In February 2008, the couple uploaded their first video, documenting the preparation of aviyal, a delectable South Indian vegetable medley. Their son Ranga Prasad (33), a mechanical engineer, had immigrated to Canada with his Canadian wife and was yearning for Tamil cuisine. With a growing nostalgia for his mother’s delicious recipes and the traditional South Indian food of his youth, Geetha and Radhakrishnan’s son bought them a pocket camcorder, instructing his parents on how to record their step-bystep cooking demonstrations. It is with their small pocket camcorder that the couple have been able to record a backlog of over 590 videos. From traditional South Indian dishes such as Ven Pongal, to Keerai Kootu, Vatha Kuzhambu to Mysore Rasam, the

Cooking up a storm - Radhu Maami in the kitchen

’Srirangam Radhu’ You Tube archives are bursting with new ideas, traditional tastes, experimental variations, and familiar favourites. A quick search on You Tube for ’Srirangam Radhu’ prompts a link to the couple’s channel that boasts an impressive array of videos set to teach the attentive viewer. Hundreds of dishes fill the computer screen as row-upon-row of thumbnail screen shots are displayed, ready to set taste buds tingling. Whenever a new dish is prepared in Radhu Mami’s kitchen, Radhakrishnan is on hand, ready to record. “I do a lot of uploading of videos, at least twice a week - and we get so many viewers,” he says with a proud grin, while still displaying a disbelief of their immense popularity even after five years of their online success.

Bantering over food Geetha and Radhakrishnan provide a perfect balance. While Geetha steps up to the role of the mother-figure, calmly leading her viewers through her recipes with methodical demonstration and her encouraging smile, Radhakrishnan plays the funny father. “I’m the guinea pig,” he teases. “He is very jovial,” says Geetha fondly, “He makes the programme livelier and he talks a lot.” “I’m allowed to talk,” insists Radhakrishnan with a mischievous grin. ”Our viewers feel it is very homely”, says Geetha with a warm smile, welcoming us into her kitchen. ”People like the atmosphere,” agrees Radhakrishnan. ”The videos are in real time so they can see pipes burst, they

Madurai Messenger Culinary Corner March 2013

can hear babies from neighbouring houses cry,” and from time-to-time, Radhakrishnan himself is sure to pipe up with questions like, “Maami, do we have sugar?” These familiar and ’homely’ aspects are unique to the couple’s videos and for Radhakrishnan, they are behind the popularity of their demonstrations, setting them apart from the countless stove-side shows which provide instruction but little else, ”It is as if the viewers are with their parents,” he explains.

“Children inherit education,” she explains, “Educate girls and you educate the whole family”

A taste of home

By delivering a taste of home with words of warning, support and caring encouragement, Geetha is often seen by her viewers as a mother-figure. “They see us as their own father and mother,” informs Geetha. The couple have received much appreciation from their global audience and feel “close to them.” “We have lots of children now,” she says. From taking the time to pray for particular viewers requesting their support in their daily puja rituals, to responding to comments that ask for advice on ingredient alternatives, the couple continue to interact with their online community.

Radhakrishnan, guinea pig in the kitchen, master of questions on screen, and the man behind the camera The Culinary Corner - Geetha commands the kitchen

Everybody’s favourite mom, Radhu Maami

”It is only for the viewers, we are doing it only for them,” explains Geetha. ”I feel really very proud when people ask for more recipes and immediately reply or comment,” she smiles. ”They express lots of doubts or ask for substitutes and because we have been abroad, we are able to provide apt suggestions. We know where to get items, or what substitutes would work. I love all of this,” she continues, “I feel it makes others happier and like they have a home away from home.” ”We often demonstrate recipes sent in by others,” says Geetha whose ’Srirangram Radhu’ inbox has been full of requests and suggestions. Many people have sent the couple details in the hope that their dish will be displayed on You Tube, a global platform for thousands of others to view. Recently a grandmother from Mumbai contacted the couple with a recipe that she

wished to share. Without the facilities to broadcast it herself, the 87 year-old was able to see her recipe prepared and uploaded onto the SrirangramRadhu channel where it would remain in the You Tube archives for thousands of viewers to consult.

Everybody’s favourite Maama and Maami Since they began uploading their You Tube demonstrations, the popular Maama and Maami have been able to help countless people, and not just with their cooking skills. “It is just a small help that we offer,” insists Geetha as she explains how they have been able to educate five children through fulltime educational courses with the $200 a month of income generated through advertisements on their channel. The proud parents of two children that were

able to study from scholarships, Geetha and Radhakrishnan decided to support the education of poor, deserving students. Education has always been important to Geetha and, having studied Biochemistry, she went on to achieve her bachelors and masters in education. From 1985 to 2005 she was a faculty at Shankara Higher Secondary School and was able to see, first hand, how valuable education can be. ”We have chosen to educate girls,” says Geetha, “Children inherit education,” she explains, “Educate girls and you educate the whole family.” The prospects for Srirangam Radhu look bright and, with a constant stream of new ideas to trial and record, the fans are yet to be disappointed as the archive of appealing videos continues to grow. Approached by Vijay TV, Geetha has

But just when I think the generous couple have shared enough, Radhakrishnan is quick to remind me of a forgotten question, “You should have asked when lunch is ready!” been asked to judge a cookery show. ”I couldn’t do it,” she confesses. “You shouldn’t hurt others and I wouldn’t know how to say if something wasn’t good.”The antithesis of the modern day celebrity that would fight their way through the cut-throat industry, Radhu Maami is a true role model and motherly-figure. Open minded and an advocate for tradition, Geetha’s viewers are sure to be picking up more than advice on just how to get the correct proportions for the perfect, pillowsoft idly. But just when I think the generous couple have shared enough, Radhakrishnan is quick to remind me of a forgotten question, “You should have asked when lunch is ready!”

Madurai Messenger Celebrations March 2013

A Cross-Cultural Pongal

“We should not forget our culture and tradition.” In a society of “differentiation” and “disorientation,” Premalatha hopes that the celebration of festivals such as Pongal can help uphold Indian traditions

The harvest festival of Pongal provides a perfect opportunity for cultures to come together and bubble and froth; like the delicious Pongal that assimilates and absorbs everyone present in a cultural osmosis. Loretta Dean on a cross cultural Pongal celebration at Mahatma School with students from the University of Iowa, US By Loretta Dean United Kingdom

All smiles - Premalatha Paneerselvam, the founder of Mahatma School

Drumming up support - Students of Mahatma School perform the Thappattam to wish their guests a ‘Happy Pongal’

oi Soi…Soi Soi… We are drawn to the folksy music from a recent popular Tamil flick, moving towards the melody of harmonizing voices which accompany the building beat of drums. Under the draped streamers we pass, ducking beneath hanging leaves of organic origami and silver tinsel which glitters under the sun’s glare. An energy is carried through the soft afternoon breeze that whispers lightly in my ears. Excitement exudes. The crowd moves as one, following the Carnatic refrain, unsure of its exact direction. The pungent smell of manure begins to invade our senses. Have we arrived? Ahead a cloud of terracotta powder billows into the air. Saffron, jade, crimson, teal - rich shades follow, landing in a vibrant display as the thick, creamy hide of blessed bovines becomes an artist’s palette.

Carnival time Founder of Mahatma Schools, Premalatha Panneerselvam greets us with a beaming smile. Dressed in a bright sari of fuchsia, fern green and gold, Premalatha is an exuberant image of joy. Bubbling with energy, she leads a crowd of students from the University of Iowa towards the pongal pots that are already brimming with their sweet, celebratory concoction. “We have been working with Mahatma Schools for over two years now,“ explains Professor Mitchell Kelly, Associate Professor of Clinical Educational Psychology at the University of Iowa. Through the university-led ‘Indian Winterim Programme’, around 60 American students and faculty members have undertaken a three-week educational trip to

Madurai where they have received a warm welcome from the Mahatma School. But the cross-cultural experience doesn’t stop here. “They’ve come to Iowa too,” explains Kelly, “It’s not just a one way thing.”

considers it to be her role as a teacher to demonstrate to her students the importance of their culture and background. “We have to prepare them for life,” she explains, “Otherwise we are not teaching...”

It has taken a team of 50 coordinators to organise the Pongal celebration and Premalatha holds a strong belief that, “We should not forget our culture and tradition.” In a society of “differentiation” and “disorientation,” Premalatha hopes that the celebration of festivals such as Pongal can help uphold Indian traditions. “Thanksgiving is a must because nature has given you so much potential to live life,” she says. Up to 70 percent of India‘s population lives in villages, and a vast majority of people solely depend on agriculture. Although she identifies that “city life is totally different,” Premalatha

“I am very keen to give these children a taste of India. You must know your country, your tradition, your practices, the rituals and the celebrations as well,” she adds. A role-model for her students, Premalatha has not failed to make an impression on her American visitors. “She’s unbelievable,” admires Professor Mitchell Kelly. “She’s so open and you just feel so welcome. She’s very smart, she’s driven and she’s built up an empire, helping tonnes of people.” Graduate student, Drew Matzen is in agreement, “I’ve never met more hospitable, kind people before,” he insists, hoping to take

“It’s been great,” reflects Professor Mitchell Kelly, “We bring students together; you learn from the teachers, learn from the students, and they can learn from us.” And the cross-cultural relationship only seems to be strengthening

East meets West - Students and faculty members from Iowa University with Mrs Premalatha Paneerselvam

Madurai Messenger Celebrations March 2013

All That Glitters Adele Eude goes gaga as she and the other MM volunteers flit from display to display, admiring the exquisite craftsmanship of the scintillating jewellery in Art Karat’s ‘Temple Collection’ exhibited at the Urban Spice Art Gallery in the Temple City recently By Adele Eude France

The rise of the rice - The auspicious moment arrives as the pongal pot begins to boil over

Woman behind the show - Premalata Paneerselvam, founder of Mahatma School

35 all that he has learnt from his experience in Madurai, “from the few things that I’ve seen and the kindness of heart of the people, bringing that back to America.”

Thanksgiving in America we’re giving thanks for a good harvest, whereas here it seems like an opening ceremony to the planting season.”

Energy everywhere

The lively display of energy transferred to the soft swell of singing prayers. Puja had begun and the crowds moved through the air, thick with incense, to gather around the pongal pots and harvest offerings. A symbol of a bountiful harvest, the overflowing pots brought sprits alive as everyone exchanged Pongal wishes. Good luck, good fortune and good cheer was passed around along with the delicious sweet Pongal.

This ‘kindness of heart’ can be easily observed and is present is the smiling faces of students and staff at the Mahatma School who eagerly assist the crowds towards the rows of seating. Entertainment awaits. A lively pulse of music bursts from the speakers and a group of young girls begin to sashay forward, swinging scarlet scarves to the rhythm as they rearrange into a linear formation for the folk dance; Oyilattam, dance of grace. The Thappattam follows as dancers adorned with ankle-bells leap to the stage, each wielding their thappu, beating the flat instruments with their palms before assembling together to form the words ‘HAPPY PONGAL’. Without warning, a boy disguised in a mask and striped costume springs before us and the Puli Attam begins. ‘A play of the tigers’, this dramatic dance was filled with energy and performers in sunset yellow saris swirled amongst their leaping classmates, as boys in painted faces mimicked the majestic movements of the tiger. The audience was enthralled by the vibrant display of folk dancing, another facet of the tradition held here in Madurai. “Everywhere you go there is a pride in music, pride in dance, pride in tradition; it is just a beautiful thing,” exclaims Professor Mitchell Kelly. Graduate student, Dan Klauitter, found the cultural variations particularly interesting, “With

“It’s a two-way learning experience,” describes Tawanda Owens, a 2nd year PhD student from the University of Iowa. “Just the same way that we were shocked and culturally shocked to see them, they were culturally shocked to see us… Its weird admiring their customs and culture as they too are admiring our culture and customs, just trying to figure us out as we try to figure them out as well.” As the students trail away for a final feast, flitting between each other as a vibrant shoal of glimmering saris, embroidered scarves and bold, emblazoned tunics, it is clear to see the exchange of cultural traditions that have been embraced by all. “It’s been great,” reflects Professor Mitchell Kelly, “We bring students together; you learn from the teachers, learn from the students, and they can learn from us.” And the cross-cultural relationship only seems to be strengthening. “I’d like to do something a little more long-lasting,” admits Kelly.

C’est magnifique - a combo of gold, red and off-white

magine an array of sparkling, gem studded necklaces and bracelets fit for a queen, with equally intricately crafted ear studs and jumkis beckoning from their display cases, inviting you to try them all on. That was the feeling that overwhelmed me as I walked into the Urban Spice Art Gallery in Madurai on January 9, 2013. The gallery was hosting the Jewellery Exhibition by Art Karat, a group of companies which was started in 1986 with a vision to create an alternate line of jewellery. In this exhibition titled “Temple Collection,” the organizer, Vikas Gupta presented the collection used by the classical dancers of India.

Go green with envy - dressy necklace with a tinge of green

The jewellery, primarily made of silver plated with gold vermeil, contains diamonds and other precious/semi-precious stones, which have been used to craft a range of necklaces, bracelets and earrings. The collection displays exceptional craftsmanship making every piece unique. While only four people helped Vikas organize this exhibition, the actual making of these scintillating pieces of jewellery involves around 1000 individual craftsmen. The aim of this exhibition is to promote the traditional art of jewellery making which is slowly dying due to the onslaught

Madurai Messenger Photo Essay March 2013

Tantalising! Model Shankari poses with a magnificent necklace

From Left- Volunteers Krysten, Manon and Adele Eude admiring Shankari, the model

Oceanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s treasures - coral eardrops fit for a queen!

Like a Princess- Model Shankari showing off the breathtaking designs of Art Karat

Cynosure of all eyes -A beautiful kundan and pearl necklace

The aim of this exhibition is to promote the traditional art of jewellery making which is slowly dying due to the onslaught of mechanisation, and to make jewellery affordable in every part of the world

of mechanization, to make jewellery affordable in every part of the world and to make the people of the country, who mostly find only pure gold jewellery attractive and appealing, aware that this type of jewellery can also be aesthetically pleasing. The price range is from Rs 5000 to Rs 20,000 depending on the craftsmanship, the stone work and the material used. Pieces from this collection have adorned many famous personalities, including Princess Diana, Alicia Keys and Rani Mukerjee.

Triple treat - three well crafted and attractive necklaces

Golden opportunity - a hoarding of the Jewellery Show placed at the entrance to Urban Spice art gallery

Madurai Messenger Healing Arts March 2013

If Music Heals, Play On

with the same aim—to bring Israelis and Palestinians together. Her own work is with individuals, in attempts to bring people together on a personal level.

Isabelle Brotherton-Ratcliffe meets Ayala Gerber Snapir, well-known music therapist from Israel, who specializes in using music as a therapeutic intervention to heal trauma survivors. She was passing through Madurai while on a visit to India, a country which is special to her By Isabelle Brotherton-Ratcliffe United Kingdom

O 38

ur car drew up to join a cluster of vehicles outside Urban Spice, the new art gallery on Taj Hospital Road in K.K. Nagar in the city and I realised that there would be a full house for the musical morning I had been invited to join. The Madurai chapter of Soroptimist International, a service club of women professionals, had arranged the event for their members to learn about the therapeutic use of music as a healing tool, and to participate in a music workshop conducted by Ayala Gerber Snapir, 67, a qualified music therapist from Israel. Intrigued by the novelty of the concept, the first thing I noticed was 18 Israeli women, travelling with Ayala, and an equal number of Indian women chatting animatedly as familiar faces were found and introductions made. Then our session began and we took a moment for deep breathing and relaxation before Ayala played five differing pieces of music for us. We were asked which one we preferred and to gather in a group with those who had chosen the same piece. Once in the group, we wrote down how the music made us feel and the emotions it embodied and shared this with our neighbours. The variety of responses emphasised the power of music, and the extent to which people can be affected by it. Then we all joined hands (the right palm down to give and the left palm up to receive) and danced to invigorating festive music. The room became a swirling mass of women dancing in pairs, circles, lines and groups,

Messianic Zeal - Ayala Gerber Snapir explaining her passion for music

The Magic of Music - at the end of a lively morning, the ladies of Israel and the Soroptimist Club pose together

and eventually in one tumbling mass of movement and laughter. After such an uplifting session, I felt I understood a little better the nature of Ayala’s work and the role music therapy can play in overcoming inhibitions and repression.

A musical heritage Ayala comes from a musical family—her mother was a musician and she grew up in Israel surrounded by music—and in the course of her life, she has learned to play the piano, guitar, Celtic harp, accordion and flute. Clearly music is an intrinsic part of her life as well as her work. Ayala always knew that music would be her profession so she trained as a music teacher, and rose to become the headmistress of the school in which she taught.

At the time of her early studies in music, training for music therapy was not available in Israel; as soon as it was, she enrolled and became one of the first students to embrace this form of healing. For Ayala, it was always about the music rather than the healing process, but she came to understand how music could play a part in this. “Music is [available] for everyone,” says Ayala, “Music works when words do not.”

Music as a release One of the most significant areas of Ayala’s work is in cases of hidden memories (those of which the person is not aware, sometimes because they come from a very young age). It has been found that rather than repressing

these memories, bringing them to the conscious mind and analysing the cause of the distress which caused them brings a greater peace of mind to the person. Ayala has found music, and songs in particular, act as a trigger to bring back forgotten memories and give the therapist and the patient a base on which they could work. Ravel’s Bolero, a piece of music which is well known in Europe, is sometimes mentioned in connection with music therapy and I asked Ayala about it. She explained that it has an extremely insistent and repetitive rhythm and this makes it easy for anyone to react to, and to beat time to it, thus establishing a connection between the listener and the music. Once this connection is made, it becomes a starting point for the patient to express their reactions and, sometimes in musical improvisation, to express themselves in a way which they are unable to do with words. This gives the therapist an idea of the problems the patient is suffering from, on which basis a diagnosis can be made.

Positive Vibes - music and dance bringing two cultures together

A balm for trauma survivors

Ayala herself has experienced the coming together of family members when she came to India in 1997 to meet her daughter who was then living in Australia. They chose India as a mid point between their two locations but found that it gave them much more than they had expected. Starting in Mumbai, they travelled for 50 days together, during which time they learned a great deal about each other as individuals, beyond the mother daughter relationship. Ayala has always been grateful to India for that and has come back here many times since. She says, “India teaches me something, something else, something new, something spiritual.” I asked her if this had led her to an interest in Indian music and she agreed, explaining that she had spent some time learning the sitar, and studied a variety of ragas (Indian music tunes).

Ayala has also specialized in using music therapy to heal trauma, and particularly the childhood traumas of those who survived the holocaust of the Second World War. Ayala said, “In Israel, there is always trauma referring not only to the past traumas of historical events, but also those engendered by the current conflicts.” Indeed Ayala has so much experience in this field that she was asked to go to Japan following the recent earthquake and to Sri Lanka after the tsunami of 2004.

Another aspect of travelling in India is the undeniable poverty and images of distress. Ayala said, “When I come to India, I can understand what is suffering and from this I understand the patients [and their suffering]. Here I learn wisdom, simple but clever wisdom, and meditation,” she adds. I asked her if she had also learned yoga, but she replied that she found the disciplined postures too restrictive and preferred a form of T’ai Chi.

I asked Ayala about the problem of the Israeli Palestine situation and whether she was familiar with the work of Daniel Barenboim who co-founded the WestEastern Divan Orchestra. This is a youth orchestra made up of musicians from countries in the Middle East with the aim of promoting understanding between Israelis and Palestinians in particular. Although Barenboim’s work is wellknown, Ayala herself does not work with orchestras and such large groups, but is involved with a university project in Israel

My time with Ayala was limited as she was travelling in India with a group of Israeli women, and it was time for their group to move on to their next visit. Ayala had in fact taken time out of their group programme to give us this morning’s practical insight into her work and subsequent interview. It seems that Ayala and India have a relationship of mutual benefit; India has given much inspiration to Ayala and Ayala in turn has encompassed this into a form of healing accessible to all.

Madurai Messenger Book Review March 2013

A Black and White Era of Tea It all speaks of a time which seems longer ago than it may be in years, a time of professionalism, resolve and dedication, and of camaraderie among the men whose lives were spent in the service of tea

An anecdotal and reflective account of a pioneer tea planter, ESJ Davidar, Tea and Me is also a requiem for a lost time of professionalism, and dedication of many planters whose lives were spent in service for tea By Isabelle Brotherton-Ratcliffe United Kingdom

ea and Me is a memoir written by Eddy Davidar who worked for over twenty years as a tea planter in the Nilgiri hills. The book, published in 2008, is divided into two halves with the first, longer, section covering the administration and management of what had become the immense tea producing business at that time. The second section is more anecdotal and reflects different aspects of a tea planter’s life.

is and how hierarchically it was controlled. Davidar writes of the “weekly letter from London:” in which the chairman of the company would convey any queries he had about the individual estates and brief the managers on his requirements from them. They in turn, in their replies, could discuss new machinery, labour issues and plant growth rates.

What comes across very strongly in this book is just how professional an operation tea production is and how hierarchically it was controlled

Davidar joined Tea Estates India Limited, a Brooke Bond tea company, in 1953 and in so doing became a pioneer for the post Independence policy of transferring the management of British owned (sterling) tea companies to Indian employees. He remained with them until 1977. I found it sad to note, however, in his Epilogue, that while Davidar says, “I was lucky to have been able to follow the two careers that appealed to me, [the army and tea planting] …. I cannot say with a clear conscience that I was deliriously happy in either of them much of the time.” This element of dissatisfaction underlines the book in which there are many references to slights and unfair treatment and the continuing theme of resentment leaves a bitter taste.

A Requiem for tea In the first section, Davidar lapses into a sometimes pedestrian attention to detail and his meticulous recording of full job titles, exact conversations and accurate chronology impedes the flow of prose. I was nevertheless intrigued to learn of an attempt to keep geese to eat the weeds between the tea bushes (sadly unsuccessful), the small scale fraud attempts for which the manager must keep a keen eye and the incidental aspects of the business, such as buying lubricant for the tea factory machines and protective blankets for the tea pickers to wear. I was also impressed by the in depth knowledge tea planters evidently have of their crop and their domain, spending days out in the open on motor bikes to reach every part of the plantation they manage, understand every kind of threat to the crop, and every nuance in its quality. Davidar’s story is centred on the three estates which made up the area for which he was responsible, near Coonoor. He and his fellow managers seem to have led peripatetic lives moving in and out of one another’s bungalows as they were posted to the various estates in a rotation of promotion and provision of cover for those on leave. What comes across very strongly in this book is just how professional an operation tea production

Title:

Tea and Me, A Memoir of Planting Life

Author:

E S J Davidar

Publisher: EastWest books Year:

2008

The book is divided into two parts – the first covers Davidar’s work for Tea Estates India from 1953 to 1977 when he left, disillusioned, it seems, with a new management in London, new policies and, in particular with a mis-managed invitation for him and his wife, in recognition of their work over many years, to visit London which was then retracted. During these years, there were immense changes in world travel and communication but curiously these did not seem to filter down the tea chain then as much as the subsequent changes with computers and telephones have done now.

A Life for tea In the early days of Davidar’s career, the estate managers’ bungalows were only very basic and equipped for the simple bachelor life of those who would occupy them. Davidar

describes the enduring loneliness of living so far away from others, without a radio and often without electricity which precluded evening reading. There is frequent mention of the quantity of gin which he and his colleagues took to drinking, in order to ward off the suffocating boredom of the long evenings. One of his colleagues kept a record of planters who tried life in the hills and left, and gave up when the numbers seemed overwhelming. It struck me as interesting that even in the 1950s and 1960s, most of the estate managers came from Britain and invariably returned there in retirement. After a life of such freedom, bestriding a landscape of open skies and mountain grandeur, the support of domestic help and the unfettered childhoods for their offspring, I wondered if they ever re-adjusted to the more mundane and circumscribed life of the home counties. Certainly Davidar chose to remain in the area; his family was based around Chennai but in retirement he settled in Wellington, near Coonoor, so the area, if not the life, must have retained its appeal for him. The second half of the book brings out a softer side to the author covering a number of themes, such as hunting, servants, and the London based directors of the tea company and their visits to the source of the company’s income, the tea fields. Davidar is a keen reader and it seems a lifelong scholar of literature while his wife is an accomplished cook; they have two children and a number of pets; they are part of a social club in the nearest town, Peermade, where Davidar is a keen tennis player, and clearly a well known, and integrated, member of the tea producing community. It all speaks of a time which seems longer ago than it may be in years, a time of professionalism, resolve and dedication, and of camaraderie among the men whose lives were spent in the service of tea.

Madurai Messenger Book Review March 2013

A Mountain Saga In a scathing but informed review, Krysten Maier argues that despite its linguistic brilliance and epic scale, The House of Blue Mangoes is as much a product of clever packaging and marketing from an author who is a publishing legend By Krysten Maier Canada David Davidar - the author

he intention behind The House of Blue Mangoes (2002) is clear. David Davidar set out to create a comprehensive and prolific portrait of life during three key generations to India’s history in Tamil Nadu; he meant to write the next great Tamil novel, if I may borrow the expression. It was perhaps a necessary novel, and met every goal and expectation, generally well received and accepted without question as a pillar of Indian literature. However, it is not importance of topic alone that should dictate a novel’s merit. The prose is clean and at times very beautifully descriptive, but uneven and lacks the depth and innovation of a true gem of literature.

The inheritance of gain David Davidar has been a monolith in the Indian publishing industry for years, as a journalist and more famously as a publisher, editing and publishing now world-renowned authors like Salman Rushdie and Kiran Desai, allegedly credited with putting India on the map of world literature. In his first foray into authorship with Blue Mangoes, Davidar obviously set out to insert his own voice into this fellowship with what some have called an autobiographical account, having grown up in Tamil Nadu and Kerala himself. If not a strict account of his family tree, the novel certainly pays homage to his inheritance. The author’s father, ESJ Davidar, is clearly manifested in the character of Kannan, ESJ having himself written a memoir called Tea and Me of his experiences working in Kerala on a tea plantation.

Passing the baton Title:

The House of Blue Mangoes

Author:

David Davidar

Publisher: Penguin Books Year:

2002

Price:

Rs. 425/-

This novel follows three generations of Andavar men of the village of Chevathar in Southern India, starting with the stubborn, combative Solomon Dorai, the headman of the town. While Soloman is the main character, the narrative changes hands several times, following the thoughts and actions of his wife, a Catholic priest, his sons Aaron and Daniel, the town’s deputy, among others. Told through

the eyes of these various fixtures of the community, these multiple angles fill out the central conflicts in region— caste rivalries, the role of and mistreatment of women, and clashes in religion and tradition. In part two, the focus of the novel and family burden in the plot shifts to Daniel, the eldest but least favourite progeny. The narration continues to change hands as the main focus becomes the colonization by the British and rise of Mahatma Gandhi. As India changes, the family struggles to hold together, revisiting and renewing the lost grandeur of Chevathar after years of exile. The third and final part follows Daniel’s son, the aforementioned Kannan, a misguided, headstrong boy with neither interest in taking up responsibility as head of the family and nor pride in his ancestral “house of blue mangoes” in Chevathar. Instead he blazes his own trail in life, marrying for love and working on a British tea estate. But can one ever really escape one’s heritage? This brief summary serves to illustrate that The House of Blue Mangoes is an ambitious little book. The content is fascinating and plunges into another age, extremely exotic and intriguing for the average reader. The novel has certainly been impeccably researched and does well to paint an accurate picture of Indian life in this time. However, the plot attempts to cater to half a century’s worth of history, and the strain is noticeable. At times it delves so deeply into the region’s factual particularities that the pages transform into those of a history textbook, utterly shattering the engrossing landscapes and settings that Davidar delivers exceptionally. Marvelously flowing and poetic phrases are often punctuated by flat facts.

Perpetuating stereotypes I also found the effort to be “the next great Tamil novel” transparent in its overuse of “Indianisms.” In the same way that Arthur Golden packed his best-selling novel Memoirs of a Geisha with metaphors and imagery that feed into the

general public’s conceptions of Japan, Davidar perpetuates Indian cliches without really tapping into India’s voice. Must India continue to be represented by mangoes and biriyanis, tea estates and skin whitening cream? These are some of the key elements chosen as symbols and foils all throughout the text, and they cultivate a forced Indianess. Surely a book like this, whose strong undercurrents are the impermanence of the Indian identity and paradoxical nature of the country, should not have to rely on such basic analogies. As previously alluded to, I found it difficult to sink into the world of the story during the first two parts because of the constant shift in omniscient narrator. The characters seem to be mere vessels for advancing the plot and not relatable souls with which the reader may connect. Davidar commences to weave intrigue with certain stories and characters, picking up multiple connecting threads, but then abandons them just as quickly. The novel reads like a buffet at which the reader may nibble awkwardly at a vast array of topics, rather than a carefully constructed three course meal that would allow the reader to whet their appetite, feast, and conclude with satisfaction and unanimity. I think the novel hits its stride in the third part, as I would happily read this section as a stand-alone piece. Despite all this, The House of Blue Mangoes is a great read for those who love historical fiction and leaves the reader with more knowledge than they had when they set out, as well as a profound sense of a time and a place. Its vignetted portrayal of life serves the cause of encapsulating the three generations of the Dorais, but fails to ensnare the reader into empathy with the characters or to challenge the literary reader with its straightforward prose. David Davidar is not a poet, nor a spinner of story worlds, nor a sage. He is a smart author with the mind of a publisher who wished to capture his ancestry in a book, and has succeeded in this, unquestionably becoming a part of the Indian canon.

Madurai Messenger Film Review March 2013

Kumki: The Elephant Whisperer The recently released popular Tamil flick, Kumki is a touching story about the bond between an elephant and its mahout By Salome Fleur Becker Germany

Title: Cast:

Vikram Prabhu,

Lakshmi Menon

Director:

Prabhu Solomon

Language:

Tamil

2012

Year:

A still from the film

Kumki

The Mathie theatre in a busy area of the city

fter his great success Mynaa everyone was excitedly awaiting Prabhu Solomon’s new movie Kumki. The Tamil movie was produced by director N. Lingusamy and released on December 14, 2012. Kumki was also the stage for Vikram Prabhu’s debut on the Tamil screen. As a third generation actor, there were high expectations from the debutant.

The two ends of a rope The movie begins with a scene of a wild elephant destroying the crops in a village and killing some of the women of the village. Accompanied by an overwhelming soundtrack, the first gory minutes are promising, and they cause goose bumps and excitement. Alli, the daughter of the village leader, witnesses the events, but is able to escape the marauding elephant. The village is in a fix, as the people have to decide whether to leave the place or fight the wild elephant. Finally they decide to pay a mahout of a kumki (an elephant especially trained to ward off wild elephants from human habitations) elephant to fight against the intruder.

The highly catchy songs are one of the assets of the film. The scenery is another reason why “Kumki” is worth watching. With breath taking pictures of Kerala’s natural beauty and impressive perspectives, the camera work through the movies remains extraordinary and is a feast for the eyes

Meanwhile, the other characters are introduced. In a second storyline, Bomman (Vikram Prabhu) and his uncle Kothali (Thambi Ramaiah) make their living by renting their timid elephant Manickam to temples. There are lighter moments in the film supplied by the uncle. Besides there are also touching scenes of Bomman as a boy with the baby elephant. It is easy to believe that they have a deep relationship, probably because Prabhu had spent time at an elephant camp before he acted in the film. Through a strange coincidence, Bomman hears about the need for a kumki elephant in the village. Since the

actual kumki mahout is not available, Bomman decides to pretend to be him and thereby obtain the money from the people in the village. Thus by the end of the first half of the movie, two entirely different stories get connected, with the elephant playing the central role, holding every strand together.

Love, music and breath taking pictures Of course everyone knows right away that the finale will be the fight between the two elephants. This also might be the reason, why the second half suffers in some places. The viewer is impatient for some action, while the most of the second half is dominated

by the love story between Bomman and Alli. Predictably, Bomman falls immediately in love with the daughter of the conservative village head. From the beginning, it is a doomed match as Alli would never be allowed to marry a non-villager. To be able to stay near her, he decides to remain in the village, even though he has no idea how to fight the wild elephant. His feelings and the developing relationship between him and Alli are well portrayed. The highly catchy songs are one of the assets of the film. They animate the film and the feet tapping music stays in the mind even days later. The scenery is another reason, why Kumki is worth watching. With breathtaking pictures of

Kerala’s natural beauty and impressive perspectives, the camerawork through the movie remains extraordinary and is a feast for the eyes. Nevertheless it seems like Prabhu Solomon is unnecessarily losing the focus in this part.

The finale In the end Bomman tries to teach Manickam how to fight, but his timid and peaceful friend is just not able to resort to violence. The problem appears to stay unsolved, until Bomman recognizes that Manickam enters musth when male elephants are very aggressive. The wild elephant returns and attacks the raised dwelling of Bomman and his uncle. The fight

between the two gigantic animals is again staged with impressive camerawork and sound effects. In the end, as expected, Manickam kills the wild elephant. But again Prabhu Solomon surprises his audience. Different from most Tamil movies, Kumki ends tragically. The beloved and protective Manickam dies of his injuries and Bomman discovers that his uncle was killed by the wild elephant as well. Although Kumki suffers from a predictable storyline, it is an entertaining and absorbing film, that touches your heart and stays in your mind even after the red velvet curtain comes down.

Madurai Messenger Film Review March 2013

A Seamless Blend of the Real and Magical Seldom do celluloid versions match their print versions. But the Life of Pi, is an exception, avers Krysten Maier, in an analytical and informed review of the sublime cinematic masterpiece, based on the novel by Booker Prize winner, Canadian Yann Martel By Krysten Maier Canada

Title:

Life of Pi

Cast:

Suraj Sharma, Irrfan Khan, Tabu,

Adil Hussain

Director:

Ang Lee

Language: Year:

English 2012

irector Ang Lee promised a piece of stunning visual achievement, based on a book that promised author Yann Martel elevation to a status of literary stardom, with a story that promised to make you believe in God. That’s one tall order for a single piece of art, But the Life of Pi delivers on all accounts. Seldom do we get to enjoy a Hollywood film that so fiercely breaks the formula of monotony and predictability in movies today, which presents a fresh new insight into cinematic storytelling. After the smashing success of the novel by Canadian Yann Martel, including the awarding of the prestigious Man Booker Prize (2003), there was much speculation as to how this masterpiece could even translate to film. The story follows young protagonist Pi Patel from early childhood growing up at his father’s zoo in Pondicherry (now Puducherry) , through his spiritual awakening through Hinduism, Catholicism, and Islam alike, to his first love, and finally the sea passage with the zoo animals that will change his life forever.

An epic journey of adventure and discovery When the ship sinks in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, it is only Pi who manages to survive, stranded in a lifeboat with a wounded zebra, a hyena, an orangutan, and a fully grown Bengal tiger dubbed Richard Parker. From here the story gives way to the fantastical, to the improbable, to the wondrous and strange and what, I thought, made an excellent piece of literature, could not be articulated in film. The key to its brilliance, I thought, was that the reader be able to surrender the words to his or her own imagination. It didn’t seem possible for a film to portray this freedom. However, the meticulous process and attention to detail by Ang Lee makes the impossible possible. He sketches out the film as if it were the imagination itself unfolding by employing a dynamic and innovative skill set of cinematography. The method of filming provides a haunting, jarring use of negative space contrasted against decadent and inviting colours—a love

letter to the Indian cinematic tradition. Each shot is careful and deliberate. This adaptation selects the key points from the book perfectly and practices economy in editing—no scene is a filler and each holds its weight to the overall success of the film.

Brilliant cinematographic elements The film contains a brilliant use of water and sky—the two elements often blending into one—as canvases on which to paint the narrative, from Pi’s uncle gliding through a sky blue swimming pool, to the haunting visual of a sinking ship, to Richard Parker’s face reflected in a calm night’s sea. Water is such an essential part of the film, representing the central conflict between logic versus feeling, doubt and faith, manifested as religious cleansing of the soul but also the harsh realities of the world that make one question the gods. Water and sky hold a mirror to the young hero on his path to know himself and provides a window into his soul and what troubles it most. The film would not have been as successful as it did without the immaculate animation used to bring the various animals to life. You believe that there is really a tiger in the little life raft, and in fact a real tiger was used for several shots, integrated seamlessly with the animated one. The sheer beauty and realism of this animation draws the viewer in and makes them believe; it tears down one’s guard and tosses logic to the side. Another key factor to the sublimity of the film is the music. The sound track does not provide the usual crutch for the actors’ performances, nor does the film use much musical scoring to embellish the emotional landscape as in both Hollywood and Bollywood films. The scoring is minimal and only comes in when it adds to the scene. Silence is appreciated during a large portion of the film, as it keeps the viewer present and allows for the

personal reflection that this script demands. Much of the score is produced instead by the cacophonous symphony of the rumbling seas against straining metal and the pizzicato animal cries, or the hum of insects in duet with a thousand meerkats, or simply the lullaby of the washing waves.

A powerful performance I would be much remiss if I did not talk about the performance of Suraj Sharma in his on-screen debut as the title character. This role is such a challenge; acting primarily against a CGI tiger rather than fellow human beings is difficult even for the most experienced actor. Sharma comes through with a strong performance of self-reflection and much heart. He shows utter commitment to the role, as he grows thinner and more bedraggled, and his eyes lose that naïve gleam and harden with each trial he must face. The film provides such a pure and poignant emotion, through the acting and all other aspects mentioned that by the heart-wrenching end, the audience feels they have been through the ordeal themselves. Overall, this film is very literary in spirit and rekindles the tradition of oral storytelling and frame tales that are prevalent in India’s heritage. It creates a self-contained mythology by blurring the lines of true and false and crossing the boundaries between man and animal, almost like the many gods of Hinduism. At the end of the film, we find ourselves at a similar crux as young Pi in his exploration of religion, and we must decide for ourselves just what we believe. What I believe is that Life of Pi is one of the strongest, most creative and enthralling films of 2012 and possesses the ability to capture the imagination and heart of even the toughest critic.

Madurai Messenger Village Voices March 2013

Chinnakanal: Mountain Meanderings Krysten Maier meanders around Chinnakanal, a picturesque little village tucked in the Munnar Hills and weaves a portrait of a village that is a hub for tea and cardamom cultivation, and of course, in recent years, tourism By Krysten Maier Canada

M. Balasubramanian, 53, the president of Chinnakanal, speaking about life in the village

One of the issues surely facing many villages like this is how to raise and educate the youth in a remote, rural area in a time when India’s modernization demands a whole new set of skills than just trades and labour

Chinnakanal nestling among the vast mountain ranges of the Western Ghats

e were a company of ten, packaged into two tiny jeeps, braving the bumpiest road I had ever personally encountered. Getting shaken up like paint cans in the box of the vehicle as we wound around the pathways of the Munnar hills, I had no idea where we could be heading, how there could possibly be a town among all this foliage. And

then, we soon came upon the village of Chinnakanal. That‘s a big name for such a small town, but what it lacks in size it makes up for tenfold in community pride, work ethic, and heart. We spoke to members of the town council, or panchayat, including the president M. Balasubramanian, about the village‘s past and present, what has been and what is on the horizon.

Place and Population Chinnakanal nestles in the hills of the Western Ghats, a range of mountains situated in the Idukki district of the Indian state of Kerala. There is a very peaceful atmosphere about the place, encircled by a striking natural landscape, undeveloped and largely untouched by human hands. The surrounding hills and valleys comprise

tea estates and other plantations, tracts of eucalyptus, and waterfalls, boasting unpolluted water and fresh air. The population is currently around 25,000, but the numbers are steadily increasing as the village continues to offer employment opportunities. Additionally, the population more than doubles every year in the form of tourists; approximately 33,000 visitors

flock to escape the heat or the buzz of the city and enjoy this peaceful hideaway.

Production and Labour In the history of the village, the citizens mainly comprised poor plantation workers employed by one of the many tea estates found in the Western Ghats, and little else. Today,

the area has diversified to meet the changing demands of the region. While tea is still the largest of the village‘s products, efforts have been made to expand agricultural ventures and increase production, and thereby livelihood, in the village. The primary production consists of cardamom, ginger, and tea of course, as well as coffee, pepper, and vegetable seeds. More specifically, about 40 percent of the land is invested in tea and cardamom, leaving 40 percent for residential and cultivation purposes. The village also makes use of its other natural resource, the trees, for forestry, with much of the product going on to the manufacture of newsprint. It is refreshing to see the village make use of its wealth of natural resources sustainably, and also attempt to cultivate new outlets through different agricultural products.

Madurai Messenger Village Voices March 2013

Volunteers waiting outside the building of the villageâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s panchayat to speak with the president and other members

While tea is still the largest of the villageâ&#x20AC;&#x2DC;s products, efforts have been made to expand agricultural ventures and increase production, and thereby livelihood, in the village. The primary production consists of cardamom, ginger, and tea of course, as well as coffee, pepper, and vegetable seeds production

In addition to the agricultural outlets, more and more jobs have become available in tourism in the past ten years, since the opening of a luxury resort in the town. The village recognized the demand for tourism in the area and met it full force. The opening of the resort became a turning point for Chinnakanal. Such work is preferred by many of the citizens and they have had many job opportunities. Where a tea picker would typically earn as little as Rs. 200 per day, jobs in the many facets of the hotel and resort business are much higher paying. The village seems to have a renewed flourish of prosperity with this burgeoning window of opportunity.

People All the people we encountered met

us with warm smiles and greetings, even though our verbal interactions were restricted by language. M. Balasubramanian welcomed us into his office to speak with a couple of the thirteen members of the panchayat, including R. Valliammal and M. Manimekala. They had all grown up in the village, and therefore have a very deep attachment to the place. Balasubramanian was a labourer for years before he took up working for the local government, where he will serve a 26-month term. Most of the common people have their origins in the valley, their families living there for generations. It seems as though no one wants to leave the little oasis in the hills, with its cool breeze and fresh water they describe as sweet, hygienic, and even medicinal. One might wonder if

there was not risk of outsiders coming in to take the jobs of some of the locals, but they assured me that there was no risk of this happening. The town assemblage is a diverse collection of young and old, men and women, Christian, Hindu and Muslim. Despite differences, the village emphasizes the promotion of a tightknit community. There are many extra curricular activities and sports for the youth, highlighted by a lively football league. Some form of community festival regularly takes place once a month, such as the Grama Panchayat Kerala Festival, where villagers are encouraged to interact with one another and celebrate their heritage. Another way that the community extends support to the various other

members of the society is through the many nurseries and creches, which allow new mothers to maintain employment without compromising the well being of their children.

Problems and Prospects The town council seemed to have all the answers, with well-thought out solutions for the problems facing the little village. One of the issues surely facing many villages like this is how to raise and educate the youth in a remote, rural area in a time when Indiaâ&#x20AC;&#x2DC;s modernization demands a whole new set of skills than just trades and labour. The town currently has two high schools and plans on instituting a college in the area to support the rise in education and pursuit of higher learning in order to secure better jobs.

Madurai Messenger Village Voices March 2013

A Fine Balance Despite her initial misgivings, Loretta Dean is surprised to discover a level of harmony and balance that underscores her engagement with India and Indianness By Loretta Dean United Kingdom

A towering trapesium at the Sri Meenakshi Temple, Madurai

“T

ake no expectations; India is nothing you can imagine.” I had thought I knew what this advice was about. I had seen the poverty captured in photographs; I could imagine the heat, baking the dry, dusty ground. I could still remember the traffic, the noise, and my silent prayer that I would somehow manage to arrive at my hotel unscathed. So I stepped off the plane at Madurai airport packed with this sense of assurance, an open mind, and some heavy luggage. Bundled into the back of our taxi, I wasn’t surprised to find the absent seatbelts, the families that we dodged, balanced on their motorcycles, the fight for space with the decorated TATA buses, or the bare-footed cyclists that wove between the chaos. I was, however, surprised by my reaction. Gone was my jetlag. Gone was my fear of travelling in India, and gone was my previous concern that I would feel unsettled here.

It was at this point that I formed a newfound trust with India. She was already an intricate pattern of brilliant colours and running threads; somehow I believed that she would take life into her own hands. I discarded my initial fears, identifying a new sense of order hidden behind a façade of chaos.

Tea plants, one of the primary products of Chinnakanal, being harvested for processing

It is refreshing to see the village make use of its wealth of natural resources sustainably, and also attempt to cultivate new outlets through different agricultural products

There are expected improvements in the school system itself, such as the implementation of school uniforms and the provision of healthy food in schools. Also, the village is actively receiving support from the Kerala government to protect their water supply, improve electricity, create street lighting, and build more roads, making the village more accessible and increase the standard of living. There are also housing initiatives on the horizon to deal with the present issue of homelessness, though poverty is currently under control and not as

large a problem as it had been in the past. With such an outlook, in addition to the rising job opportunities and the expansion of agriculture, this village seems to be well on its way to a prosperous and harmonious future, in a little corner of paradise in the mountains. I am glad to have had the privilege of being welcomed into such a village, where the citizens are successful and productive and, more importantly, happy to live where they do.

A level of harmony is prevalent here. The cool evening breeze and shaded walkways relinquish you from the powerful sun. A spicy sambar provides the ideal accompaniment to the steaming portion of rice that lies in the palm of a banana leaf: dinner awaits. Skin, coated in a layer of dust and dirt, will seek sanctuary in the delicate silks on offer that whisper a Carnatic refrain. The soft scent of jasmine moves languidly through the air, relieving your senses from the astringent petrol fumes that burn your nostrils, while notes of incense surround you in a comforting aroma. The balance doesn’t stop here. At night you can discover the strangest of lullabies. Distant horns will join peals of bells; the low buzz of insects provides a constant rhythm while the beat ascends from the railway line, building up to a crescendo as the great orchestra delivers its chorus.

I was, however, surprised by my reaction. Gone was my jetlag. Gone was my fear of travelling in India, and gone was my previous concern that I would feel unsettled here One cannot help but feel alive here; there is a constant energy that, at first overwhelming, inspires excitement. Nothing is predictable, especially your first impressions, even on return.

Madurai Messenger First Impressions March 2013

One of the Herd, One in Every Crowd

Sayonara, Madurai

Krysten Maier describes her mid air encounter with a group of Hindu pilgrims from Sri Lanka to Sabarimala and concludes how one flight gave her her first impression of India

Lasting Impressions is a new column that captures the experiences of volunteers in Madurai. Japanese national Hanae Araki, one of our most committed volunteers, describes her growing familiarity with Madurai, a city that she says has embraced her like a loving grandmother, despite not being related by blood

By Krysten Maier

By Hanae Araki

Canada

Japan

magine yourself in an enclosed airline terminal filled with dark-skinned, barefooted, multicolored foreheaded men in black shirts and sarongs, and you are the only white, fully dressed, shoe-wearing woman. This was the first hint of what I had in store for me in India as I sat there waiting for a plane to Madurai in the Colombo airport. It was unsettling being stared at by a hundred pairs of black-brown eyes. What soothed my unease was that the room jingled and tinkled as they moved about, for they each had on some kind of anklet with tiny bells. I was inevitably seated next to two of the said group and, though still unsure about conduct and the fine line between polite conversation and an invitation to make conversation, I decided to have a chat with the man to my right to inquire as to what I perceived to be a very strange appearance. In fact, they were a group of Hindus making a spiritual journey to the famous Ayyappan temple in Sabarimala in Kerala. For two months prior they had not cut their hair, beards, or fingernails, worn anything but black shirts and dhotis nor worn shoes. Their fingernails were evil incarnate and I had to politely refuse a lot of handshakes. This was also the first time most of these men had been on a plane, so for the first ten minutes of the flight the sound of clicking seat belts resounded like a field of locusts. They were not shy in leaning over me to snap pictures out

hree days. Just three days. This is all that I have for me in Madurai. In about 70 hours, I will be at the airport to catch my flight to Chennai, missing all the people and places I have met or visited here.

Innocent abroad

A few of the religious group I encountered on my flight, at their destination, the Sri Meenakshi Temple in Madurai

the window with their camera phones, nor inhibited in singing aloud in throaty, quavering tones. I heard several little tunes break out during landing, rousing me from a short nap. And when the plane touched down with that everanticipated rumbling boom that I often find uncomfortable, the plane was filled with the melodic tinkle of a thousand wind chimes or cascading metallic tones from around the ankles of every passenger on board. It was a beautiful welcome to the country. As we were leaving the aircraft, being shuttled to the terminal, and standing

in line at immigration, the stares turned into pointing and even laughing. Confused, I couldn’t fathom what was so wrong with me. Then a particularly bold one of the company came up to me and said, “So you have decided to join us then, yes?” and gestured at my face with a wide grin. I ran to the bathroom as soon as I could and discovered that I had a long blue streak on my forehead, just like their painted marks. I had fallen asleep on my journal and, apparently, on my pen as well! How’s that for making a first impression?!

I will never forget the day I first arrived in Madurai. I had to wait alone for almost an hour for the Projects Abroad staff who was supposed to welcome me. My Japanese phone couldn’t reach his number and I had no choice but to wait in the darkness. Taxi drivers kindly helped me a lot by making calls but I was in panic and desperate to reach my host. Later it turned out that the car had been involved in a traffic jam. My first encounter with Madurai was so thrilling that I didn’t expect to get so attached to this city. Now I can say that Madurai is another home for me. My first home is Japan, where I was born and raised. It may be compared to a “mother,” who has watched me affectionately as I grew up for 18 years. The second home is Tokyo where I lived for two years before coming to India. It may be a “father,” who is almost always busy but has taught me a lot of things and let me think what I want to do in future. The third home is of course Madurai, where I have been living for four months. But when it came to Madurai, it took longer for me to get figure out what Madurai means to me.

Loving grandma - volunteer Hanae Araki with some villagers near Madurai who welcomed her as one of them

At home in Madurai During these four months, I have visited many Indian towns and cities for interviews or weekend trips. I found that compared with them, Madurai is traditional, where almost all women wear saris, no one goes out after 10 P.M. and there are comparatively fewer people who drink alcohol or smoke. In addition to this, I have felt that here time passes more slowly than in other Indian towns. Children have enough time to stop to say hello and ask me many questions, regarding my nationality, name, my family, etc. People have enough time to answer my questions on directions and to talk about themselves or Madurai. Even though at first Madurai seemed a difficult city to get used to, it has changed gradually and acquired the status of a

home. As time passed by and I got used to it, I became a part of this city. Now I know what Madurai is for me: A “Grandma.” At first she had a severe expression and rarely smiled. But once we got close, she sometime gave us a special smile and sometimes a big hug, even though I am not a “grand child” related by blood. Some Indian women have embraced me like this. “Grandma” has brought me up in many ways instead of “parents.” Now I, who totally panicked being alone at the airport four months ago, can enjoy walking freely in Indian towns by myself. Three days. In about 68 hours, I have to say good bye to Madurai. I have already started to miss “grandma.” But someday I will come back here to say “I’m home,” and give her a big hug.

Madurai Messenger Lasting Impressions March 2013

Bumpy and Dusty Indian Roads Paved with Wisdom Captivated by the charm and spirituality of India, Salome Fleur Becker is certain that the bumpy and dusty Indian roads are paved with wisdom. She is grateful that it was destiny that had led her to India and concludes that she will soon return to India By Salome Fleur Becker Germany

Volunteer Salome Fleur Becker, immersed in Indian culture and celebrating Pongal

fter spending three months in Madurai, it feels like leaving my home. I still remember how people reacted in Germany, when I told them about my trip to India. The most common question was a simple “Why?” Unfortunately I had no answer to this very reasonable question. In fact, even I wasn’t sure why I wanted to go to India at all costs.

A strange familiarity It was the first time I was traveling abroad on my own and I was surprised that I was so relaxed about it—no mental breakdown on the evening before the flight. Not even excitement. When I turned around for the last time at the airport gate to say “goodbye” to my family and friends, who were waving with tears in their eyes, all I could think of was a simple and natural, “See you in a couple of months!” It would be a lie, if I say that I loved India from the first second I arrived. In fact, it was one o’clock in the morning after a sixteen-hour journey. So I was just awfully tired and thirsty, when I stepped into Chennai airport. But as soon as I boarded the aircraft to Madurai I was totally awake, marveling at the beautiful golden and green landscape beneath me. I know it sounds very stereotypical but it is the truth: gazing out of the small window, I knew that destiny had brought me here and I could feel that I had already lost my heart to this country.

Simply beautiful My stay in Madurai was lightened up by the great optimism which was floating through every cell in my body. I don’t know why, but it was just impossible to be in a bad mood. Everything was simply so beautiful: the colour of the sun, and the green palm leaves swaying to the sound of chirping birds. While I’d loved to walk around the area of my new home and the office, I got slightly distressed when I entered Madurai city. The traffic, the dust and too many people in a place too small, made me claustrophobic. Nevertheless, after a weekend trip, stumbling tired out of a bus, it always felt like coming home again. But most of all I will miss the people here. Not only my lovely host family and

colleagues, but also the inspiring people I met. Partly through interviews, and partly on the street, I was confronted with the most interesting thoughts of extraordinary characters. So if you say that people believed the streets of America were paved with gold, you could say that India’s bumpy and dusty roads are paved with wisdom. Yes. There is no other place in the world where spirituality and wisdom just linger in the hot air as in India. So I am happy that I have at least one month of travel left to discover more of this extraordinary country. For the moment there is nothing more left to say than “Panpoam”?? and “Auf Wiedersehen!” Because I will come back some day.