Onam, the festival of unity

Onam lands on September 8th this year, and every Malayali heart wherever it is, will skip a beat that day. It’s a nostalgic season which takes us back to our childhoods, to the country lanes, swings hung on the branches of mango trees, green rice fields, blue skies and clear streams hugging coconut palm groves. Here’s the story behind it, a story close to our hearts.

Once upon a time  Keralam was ruled by the perfect Asura/demon King Mahabali /the Great Bali. During his reign all were equal. No cheating, lying, or thieving or plundering. No wars, diseases or famine. Happy, content, the people loved their King. The gods/devas got jealous, and worried that they maybe forgotten, rushed over to their chief, Maha Vishnu. A plan was devised to exploit the king’s famed generosity. Vishnu took the form of a dwarf Brahmin/Vamana, went to Bali, and asked for three feet of land, which Mahabali granted. The Vamana grew huge, as he measured all of earth with one step, and the heavens with the other. He looked at the king for the third, by then the King knew who this person was. The King bowed his head before the god, and Vishnu placed his third step on the King’s head. Before he was sent to the netherworld, Mahabali asked for one thing - could he come visit his people once a  year? Vishnu agreed. 

So every year on Onam day, Mahabali or Maveli returns. No matter how hard their lives are, people present  happy faces to their king. Onam is our harvest festival.The heavy rains gone, the harvesting will be ongoing, the roadsides green, heavy with wild flowers. Dragonflies assume their drone duties. Decked in  traditional outfits, we prepare our world for Mahabali. Depicted as a jovial, big bellied, big mustached man, in a yellow dhothi and wooden slippers, a golden crown on his head, a palm leaf umbrella in his hand, the return of the King, is the magical bittersweet foundation of the season. Following the Malayalam calendar, the festivities begin on Atham day, and on the tenth day, the grand finale of Thiruvonam occurs. Pookkalams, designs with fresh flowers appear in yards, along with clay Thrikkakarappans/Father Onams representing Vishnu. As the end of quarterly exams coincides with Onam vacation, children participate joyously.

Laughter, games, dances, and sadhya, the elaborate vegetarian lunch served on banana leaves. The star of the sadhya is our own brown streaked plump matta rice, accompanied by a number of  dishes, most embellished with coconut in various forms- ground, grated, dried, fried, milked, and spiced. A place is set for the King. We begin dipping daintily into parippu and neyyu/ daal and ghee, followed by a frenzied nosedive into Sambar, Aviyal, oalan, erissery, koottucurry, to a steady glide over kaalan, mezhukkupuratti, thoaran, injanpuli, varavukal, wading in pachadi, kichadi, pappadam, ripe plantain, coming up for air with banana chips, in several avatars, pickles/achar, relishes, a  gentle splashing in spiced buttermilk, and  rasam, and end in an exhilarating plunge into the  sweet oblivion of payasams. 

Apart from the sadhya, each region, each temple, and each Hindu family  has its own traditional rituals. Aranmula temple traditions come to mind, for instance . Pulikkali/tiger dance, Kummattikali, Onatheyyam are some of the various folk arts performed during Onam. Vallamkali, Kerala’s snake boat races, accompanied by its rhythmic vanchipattu/boat songs is a staple.

The paradox that is the story of Onam, where the good demon is  punished by  the good gods, is intriguing. And while Malayalis celebrate the return of our King, other Indians celebrate Vamanjayanthi, victory of Vamana/ Vishnu, the god over the demon. Kerala Hindus worship  Vishnu and Vamana, but they also celebrate Bali. We all do. And we don’t just give the devil his due, grudgingly, we give it wholeheartedly, gleefully, proudly.  Food for thought.

Significantly, now I am aware that things aren’t idyllic at all behind the scenes. Not sure if there was a real King named Mahabali, if the myth was real. I hear there is an Emperor mentioned in the Bhagavad Gita, on the banks of the Narmada named Bali. That his flaw was his great pride in his goodness, for which he was punished by the gods. Then I hear that Thrikkakara in Kerala was where his palace was, and that is where Vamana appeared. And then there is the other side. The Onam story, as with many romanticized holiday origin stories, has some legitimately sinister, very real hurtful, ugly truths behind it, the consequences of which are still experienced by many. History/her stories of domination and plundering of the indigenous people of a land, by newcomers. Whatever the story is behind the myth, I prefer the part of the story where we, as one, wait for our great and good King, showing our best sides to him. 

And While acknowledging all that pain and anger of the displaced and the dispossessed , and knowing that we have a long way to go to reach that perfect world, with love and respect, during Onam, we focus on our collective intermingled cultural and genetic ancestry. A culture that evolved out of a coexistence spanning over thousands of years. Bringing people together, Onam is a symbol of hope- for a better, equal world for all.

Happy Onam, everyone!

Onam is a feeling, many feelings

I have heard that before. And it felt right too. Now I agree with it —wholeheartedly. Well, it is a feeling of fullness, on the one hand. Of the stomach. 😀Kidding. But seriously, I had the good fortune to celebrate Onam with my mother and my sister’s family this year. It was perfect in every way, with the exception that some family members were absent, and one special one will never be there again. In fact there was some anxiety right before the day, as I hadn’t celebrated one for the last 10 years. My last Onam was the one we celebrated with my father. And exactly one month later, he was gone. And coincidentally, this year’s celebration fell on a September 6th, a Sunday, same as back then. A sensitive, disturbing time.

Like I said, it was a wonderful Onam. That little niggle of worry disappeared. Talked a lot, laughed a lot. Good times. Then as we were driving back to my place, the feelings started coming - in waves. It was a collage of memories, flashback scenes of old Onams, faces that were dear to me, the sheer happiness that seemed to envelope me. Onam is a feeling.

Memories

The brown checked border on my pattu pavada (long silk skirt) and the check blouse that my dad bought for me and my sister, as onakkodi. My baby sister was not born yet. Wonder what my brother was doing amidst all this! Like in a Hindu household, we started making pookkalam (flower design in the front yard) on Atham day. 10 days before the main day- Thiruvonam. We got up early, showered, picked flowers from the yard, wild and garden, and made simple designs enthusiastically. Meanwhile quarterly exams lent a different kind of excitement. Onam is the longing. For freedom, for good times, for gatherings. The anticipation.

The rains will have stopped by the time vacation started. That last day of the exams was the best, that feeling was the best! Smiling from ear to ear, we threw our bags down and set out to enjoy the season. The sun was shining, the world was bright and green. In the countryside, harvest season was in full swing. The heady aroma of harvested rice, going through the process of being threshed, boiled, dried.... .Ponds and little streams were overflowing and little fish jumped up and about. While little white “thumbappoo” and yellow mukkutti peeped shyly on the banks. And the dragonflies! They zoomed around like busy choppers and we chased them with abandon.

And on Onam day, the grand design of flowers that we planned on a notebook paper at first and then on the ground. And the memory of my mom letting us know, “ that’s enough of picking all the flowers in the yard, Appachan will get you flowers from town.“ And every year, he got us piles of flowers from the flower market,for Onam day. Marigolds, chrysanthemums, amaranths, ...we made our pookkalam. Our mother will be busy in the kitchen. Like a little whirlwind, she will be doing her magic shouting orders, directing others, and cooking away. Onam is family. The ideal.

And then the sadya. We sat on woven palm leaf mats and ate from banana leaves. My parents, my siblings and a few relatives. My father’s face as he smiled at my mom, at us.It was heaven. Contentment. All is well with the world! Carefree. Idyllic. That all encompassing feeling of loving and being loved. Safe and secure. Of belonging and being a part of something wonderful. It was Onam. The feelings of Onam. Onam is love. It is home.

And the lying around afterwards. As usual, mom would have gone overboard with the sadya items. (My mother who stood young and tall!) And we have a sneaky Onam on Good Friday, which , I hear , is now frowned upon by certain church authorities . Anyway, before all of today’s extreme pieties, we were fortunate to have had those days. So after lunch, we children lounged on the cool floors, tummies full and hearts bursting with joy. For a few minutes, then we were off jumping around again till tea time. As I sat in the car reliving those days again, I realize how dependent all that happiness was on my parents’ efforts! How they made it all so special for us. How hard they worked to make it so. And how we missed those days, and how we missed our father! I felt immense gratitude to them. Onam is a feeling - of gratitude. A blessed feeling.

Onam has its roots in Hindu mythology, but it is our national festival. Each Malayali regardless of caste and religion, wherever they are, observes it, celebrates it one way or the other. In awaiting our great King Mahabali, we are one. For me the last ten Onams were a blur. Somehow I pretended I was busy otherwise, and deliberately ”forgot” about it. But it was there at the back of my mind. In my heart. Maybe that is why it was so intense this time. I can never forget it altogether, as it is part of who I am, and how I feel. Such a feeling. Even without the sadya, or the new clothes, the Onam in my heart will evoke all kinds of warm feelings. Of wistfulness, of hope, and of love. And have to add, Appachan would have loved this Onam too.

about " The Story of India" by Michael Wood.

I did not want to write this for a long time because you might think oh here comes another of her whiny rants -- and because I thought it was a waste of time ,a  losing battle. But today I feel like I should. It's an all over the place rambling sort of piece, bear with me. 
 

"In this landmark six-part series for PBS and the BBC, Michael Wood embarked on a dazzling and exciting journey through today's India, "seeking in the present for clues to her past, and in the past for clues to her future".

That is the description of the 2 part movie about the story of India that was shown on PBS.  Many watched it and marveled at this "definitive"  telling of India's history. Most were ready to believe it as such -- as one would believe the Holy Scriptures, esp Northern Indians. Why? Because it perpetuates that myth about the Aryan-Dravidian/ High Caste- Low caste demarcation, that great North-South Divide of the British propaganda machine. The West in their highhandedness gave the natives of the "Americas" our name. But that is nothing when we see the divide among our own countrymen.

On the whole the movie is  spectacular, but there are some spectacular blunders too, especially when it comes to the beginning of the story. It shows people from Africa plodding along the western coast of India, and landing in Kerala, not stopping anywhere up there, or never going to the north. Forget that there is an eminently navigable sea -- which people have used since -- but these people chose land, I can understand. But it is hard to believe that it is a single event. Still, these are pre historic events. And there are the remnants of the hill tribes still in the hills and forests of Kerala, Tamilnadu etc. And remember,  there are hill tribes in the north too. And over the thousands of years they have been exploited, and pushed farther and farther into the woods, and at other times, pulled out into the so-called civilized world, when it fell convenient to the dominant group.  They were and are the so-called low caste, backward caste, scheduled castes of India. All the while, the newcomers mingled with them genetically, too. Again, not a single event. waves of migration, waves of mingling, breeding, pushing back and forth, up and down, east and west, in the course of ten thousand years. So it is commonsense to realize that there  is not a single" pure" high or low caste race in India now. Michael Wood never mentions any of this. 

 I get all that. People who want to, can read through the lines, see beyond the movie. But those who want to hold onto their "superiority" for dear life, they will not . Anyway, the biggest blunder to me was Mr  Wood's portrayal of the Brahmins in Kerala,  the southernmost state of India. He shows this ancient religious sect chanting the sacred mantras and compares it to cries in the wilderness. Tribal sounds, makes them out to be some primitive beings!  Maybe. But ironically, these" tribes" are "Aryan"! Sneakily showing an apparently intellectually or physically challenged man or boy, is just one way in which he manages to infantilize and lessen and divide  a culture and a civilization. Those mantras are in Sanskrit, that is what I have heard. Now Sanskrit may have originated from bird and animal sounds, but so did human speech. But it is this language that is supposed to be Aryan, which is shown to be used by a group of people in Kerala, a southern state. And how does that go with the superior Northern Aryanness? Those people who chant those mantras are Aryans -- only Brahmins were allowed to do that, I do not know if Michael Wood knows that.  He cannot have it both ways. oh, and then he jumps to some tribe in Andhra Pradesh and finds the African gene -- mind, he doesn't mention that it is in Andhra, he lets many a viewer think that he is still in Kerala. well, it is all South -- so it doesn't matter  to Wood. He just is too taken up with his own benevolence at giving us a magnanimous perspective of India.   so what if he got certain basic facts wrong, what if he mixed this and that,confusing one thing with yet another thing,  what if he sees  anjanam, and states categorically that it is as white as  turmeric? So what anjanam is black? Everyone believes his words - he is white! ( color play! :) It is like those blind men "seeing" an elephant. But my question is, if he can easily and with certainty blur the distinction between tribal people and other settlers of Kerala, and between Kerala and other southern states, and forget all the rest of the Meditrerranean, Arabic, Phoenician, Persian, Central Asian, and Chinese heritage of Kerala,  why can't he blur the same between north and south? why harp on a baseless, spurious distinction? Which is not that different from fanatically "upper caste" white commenter on the 23& me site. From what he wrote there I am pretty sure his father is an Indian from the North, but he does not like to acknowledge that. But he is ready to take the lesser of the evil as it is, by trying to insist that all the north is upper caste and all the south is lower caste!  Does he not know about the evil heights of caste system in the south? Upper caste elements came up with crooked, inhuman ways to keep the earlier inhabitants low ,and based it on their divine right to lord it over. Caste system has its origins in racism and feudalism. But there is one difference between the north and the south. The south is more enlightened and once it realized the evil of its ways changed its thinking. In these days, the "lower" caste of the south are not as low as those in the north. They are no longer in the background or underground. There are no bonded laborers here like in the North. The lower castes in Kerala for instance got land from their old landlords. The present generation occupy high posts in all walks of life. They are a strong group with powerful unions to back them. And of course they are not "they' - they are us. As the present day population is a mix of all people. Even the earliest of us all - the people who belong to the ancient hill tribes. So then all of India is low caste or high caste. And all of the Americas is native American or African, or low caste or high caste. Or all of the world is low caste. Since there is no pure race anywhere.

After seeing this movie, a curly-haired  Northern Indian , a very nice person otherwise, was raving about this. He is a firm believer in the Aryan invasion myth.(Read Michael Danini and Sujatha Nahar's The Invasion that Never Was ) His proof is the difference in appearance between northerners and southerners. I wanted to laugh. I did not argue  but in my mind,  I do not see any difference  -- that is, if there is any difference,  it is the same difference between 2 southerners, or any two Indians. Even that tribal man Wood showed as the first African had straight hair. Well, curly hair is said to be  one of the earlier/ ancient/primordial dominant traits that will never disappear. Is it the skin color? That is the sun, my dear friend (me to that person, in my mind).  The North enjoys cooler weather in the winter months at least, and more people from the North may have had relationships with the colonial Brits.,--sexual, that is, they  used you or you used them, --  which, by the way, is recent history.  and of course, bleach and fair & lovely. north had a headstart on that. even after all that -- the features of the Northerner and the Southerner are of the same mix. rich and varied. layered and complex mix.

Around 60,000 years ago, a second melting pot of humans happened in the Central Asian area of which India was an important part. I share DNA with the people of that area. Now what are we? People of the North and the South, the East and the  West, and  in between India? We are not just  black, we are not just white, we are not just one color. We are not just a rainbow. We are all colors and no color. We are all races, and no race. We are the race called or that should be called Indian. And next time, when you tell a South Indian that she doesn't look like a South Indian, or that she doesn't look like an Indian, please remember that you are insulting her, insulting yourself, insulting all Indians and all humanity. 

the Kochi effect

on my way to Kochi

Even though it had been 3 years since I'd been to India, sadly, I was not pining for it. This is coming from a typical Malayali whose eyes used to well up,  - whose heart played the drums with all its might, the moment she glimpsed  the green valleys of Kerala. After my dad was gone, I lost that longing for my homeland. I did not care what went on there, I did not care if I went there.

But this past month I had to. I was determined that the visit would be as short as possible, jet lag or not. So I went home for a week, and that included travel time. And I have to say I fell in love all over again. The day I landed I went to see one of my old professors. She is retired now and runs an old age home. She has a few smiling little nuns to help her. It is a home set on a hill in a rural area. A place which makes one stop and think. Along the way I saw the changes that have come to my state. The wider roads, the vanishing chimneys of the old brick factories, the churches, the temples... .

The next day I took the trip that really floored me, that changed the state of my mind. I went to Kochi to visit a few family members. Kochi, the Queen of the Arabian sea, known as Cochin, just a short while ago. I stopped to buy some fruits in a street. Just another old street in that old town. Narrow, crowded, bright and sunny. It was, and is still, a feeling that I can only describe as wonderful. Even magical. That a place can actually make me feel so vibrant. I have heard celebrities on the red carpet talk about the energy they could feel around them. At that moment I felt it. The energy. The life - in capital letters. It made me want to cry. As I stood there, unbelievably, I know, I could see the passing of time. I imagined the countless number of people who walked those streets, who lived like me, and died. People who were children there, and later, young men and women, going places. I belonged there. The place, the ambience, the people, the movement, the startling but sure ascent of a society, the burgeoning, electrifying breath of that land enveloped me  -- it could almost be called a mystical experience, and it was very real. This was home. This is home. A part of me that no one can take away.

Then I had the chance to talk with, and listen to someone who can only be described as the essence of Kochi, since he lives for that city, and my mind was full to the brim. With more and more room appearing, asking for more. Outwardly, I may have been the same old laidback Asha. But inside, I was like a child in wonderland, frantically, greedily, taking it all in. I heard about the gigantic strides the city was making in every field -- art, cinema, archaeology, science, technology. Kochi seemed to be the happening place. Its young and old, man and woman, are heading forward to a future of fulfilled promises, realized dreams.  Like its waterways, its skyscrapers, Kochiites are forging new ways of living, firmly based on the old. The quick, incessant exchange of ideas, of commodities, the constant movement of people to and from countries all over the world, the connections that had always gone on there -- Kochi was always globalized -- has gained new momentum now. It is a rebirth,  it is a metamorphosis. The butterfly is about to burst out.   Here is the infinite ocean of stories, the never ending, mesmerizing sagas of life and death, past and present. Here is where one could swim around, dive into, and drown in.  Like the old, empty, history-laden warehouses in that port town still said to be wafting the aromas of long gone spices,  that await for new life, and new ways of thinking, my mind seemed to be waiting. I miss it all. Terribly.And what am I doing here? I feel that  it is time to go back. There is nothing here for me that can compare to that. There is nothing here that made me feel what I felt on that morning on that street. What am I waiting for?

 a beat to dance to! :)

new Pope and thoughts of my Nazrani heritage

New Pope in the offing for the Catholics. Again, the Nazranis are forgotten. No candidate from the Syro-Malabar Church. It is fascinating to see the invisibility of these people. In spite of the fact their faith is over 2000 years old. In spite of all the earnest traditions and strict followings of the Church doctrines, more than any other Catholic group in the world. Why, the priest and nuns in my community back home wield more power -- for good or bad -- than any monarch, over their flock. All that exaltation of virginity in our women, demands of covering our heads (in shame for being born as women?) in Church, of compulsory removals of our slippers in the not very clean Church floors, of strict fastings and confessions, public humiliations and ostracizations of sinners, and manic Charismatic retreats,, making girls wear plain sarees, to college -- none of that helped, sadly.

I had written previously, that my ancestors' belief that we were high caste Brahmins converted into Christianity by St Thomas the Apostle, was erroneous. I based it solely on hearsay , and on Nehru's statement that there were no Brahmins in Kerala in 52 A.D. Now, I had thought Nehru's ulterior motive may have been a unified India, without the North-South divide. But I had also read about the Apostles' first mission of getting the news of the Messiah to those places where there were Jews already. According to historians, Jews from Kerala sent gifts to King Solomon, who, we know, ruled before the times of Jesus. Musiris, the present day Kodungallur, was a famous port from ancient times.Combined with the fact that people from the Middle East were called Mappilas in Kerala, I deduced that my ancestors were Jews, not Hindu Brahmins. Of course they must have intermingled with the other local people too. As for Nehru's motive, now I think it may not have been that benevolent. It must have been an urge to perpetuate that British-influenced myth of the superiority of the North Indian "Aryan" race.

But now, after  DNA analysis for my ancestry,  I realize that there may have been something to my ancestor's belief about their Brahmin ancestry. I should not have dismissed it so callously as due to simple vanity. I learn that there was a strong  reformist movement in Kerala --by  Buddhists and Jains. One of the factors that the newer movements opposed was the Hindu caste system. So it stands to reason that there were Brahmins in Kerala then. There are other clues too in history -- one of which is the fact that Chanakya/Kautilya, the brainy Minister of Emperor Chandragupta Maurya( Ashoka's predecessor), who ruled a large empire extending to parts of Central Asia, long before the times of Jesus, was a Brahmin  from Kollam, Kerala. It is all more complex than I thought, obviously. Thus, according to 23 and me, apparently my ancestors spread out from the Central Asian area towards eastern Europe, up to Finland. Then, surely, at some point,  some groups returned to India. Or, a group stayed put, while a part of that group migrated northward. And we are the descendants of that group, Brahmin or not, Jewish or not. More has to be known to find out exactly how and when my ancestors got to be in Kerala, (Silk Route?)incorporating all the above details, and more, I am sure, about Jewish and Hindu history.

And according to the 23andme results, I have Hindu relatives, and I share my paternal ancestry with my husband, whose gene pool, I had thought,  was very different from mine, (even though he is a Nazrani from Kerala too, he belongs to the Latin Catholic community, and we Trichur Syrian Christians think of them as different. yep! that's how focused we are on "difference"!). And now I see that he has .2% native American ancestry, and a bit of Neanderthal too! How amazing can this get!!! We are all related really. :) Along with Hindu relatives, I seem to have connections with Indians from the North and South. and I share my paternal  haplogroup with Ukkrainian, Polish, and Finnish persons! The people of the world are not as different from each other as some would want to make it.

Anyway, we Nasranis were under the Eastern Orthodox Church for a while. Then with the advent of the Portuguese to Kerala in 1498 A.D. after many splinterings, one big chunk came under the largely  white Roman Catholic Church. Now, if we have any pride left, in our heritage, our story, or just plain pride like any of those practicing Princes of the Roman Church in the West , we would start our own Church, and select our own Pope, and canonize our own saints galore. just sayin'!

Muziris : the Kerala -Roman connection

http://hindu.com/2004/03/23/stories/2004032303340500.htm

http://www.keralatourism.org/muziris/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indo-Roman_relations

a nostalgic bit ( for Malayalis)

remembering the evergreen Prem Nazir, the totally nonchalant, unselfconscious movie-romancer-lip -syncher.. master of "romancin' 'round the trees" --as we named it "maram-chutti-premam", got to admit -- he nailed it. Add to it the heavenly voice of K.J.Yesudas who actually sings these sweet nothings -- together they take us on a fantastic ride on that flying carpet they mention. :)

And let's not forget Jayabharathi. I mean, at least Prem Nazir has the singing to do. Poor Jayabharathi has to be there, doing sweet nothings, without bursting out in laughter. :) But seriously, she does such a commendable job. I always admired her great talent as an actress.

musings for no reason (mainly for malayalis)

There are some sayings  where i come from -- for instance, "two things that cause grief - gold and woman". something like that. possibly true. especially since this profound piece comes from a place where acne on a girl's face and fungus on a man's torso are seen as signs of beauty and virility respectively. :) If you don't believe me, just listen to the songs in this post - In the first one, actress Geetha sings her heart out about the handsomeness and masculinity of the aloof warrior (who by the way, has eyes only for another) she admires. In the second one, our evergreen "around -the-tree - romance" aficionado Prem Nazir lip-synchs his way through yet another extravagantly poetic and sometimes gagworthily descriptive love song( don't mistake me, Prem Nazir is one of my favorites no matter what ).  anyway, what I think is that it is the tummy that causes grief, seems to take a life of its own. and it is an equal opportunity matter. they say that the cessation of growth is one indicator of old age. but I say that growth may stop in certain areas, but certain other areas tend to flourish, a fact that I am made increasingly aware of, painfully.  This is also the time when everyone around you seem to be way younger than you are.

The other day I was thinking about death and such, and sighed and stated that we cannot bring back the dead. Promptly my son quipped, "of course, you can! you are just too lazy!". :) When he looked at me with a sly smile after that, I had to laugh. He was just giving back my own medicine. Isn't that  the basic understanding behind our traditional Indian parenting? Nothing is impossible, it is just for want of your trying that you don't get something. But then, that "unimpossible' thing has to meet with total parental approval, of course! to be contd. -- maybe.

On Mr Bourdain's visit to Kerala, -- and my wayward mind's workings

started off as a response to some comments on Kerala by a few facebookers, after Anthony Bourdain's visit to that state. this blog could be said to be  indirectly set off by all that.  Bourdain's sweeping statement about Indian food being not aesthetically pleasing, even though delicious, put my back up. Any food can be presented in a "cultured' way. I have tried to do it in my humble way, like my mom ( and many other moms do)  does it everyday without going overboard -- I am no professional. This ancient culture of mine has seen and done it all, and so called modern cultures are re-discovering it everyday --say,  in their adoption of vegetarianism, which has been a way of life for us for centuries.( well, my ancient culture is backward in one factor -- its treatment of its girls, but that's another story , or maybe not, come to think of it)

 ..

all right. It was interesting to find out what the thoroughly rebellious, but democratized Mr Bourdain would do to Kerala. Along with many other proud Mallus, I waited for the show to air.

After all, Kerala is the state with the highest rate of literacyin India. Because of the Marxist revolution, its people are relatively freer than their counterparts in some other states. No bonded labor here, a strong labor union etc. etc. There aren't many communal riots here, and our health care is on par with a wealthy European country. We have enjoyed trade relations with the known world from ancient times. This is  the fabled Malabar -the  spice land. This is the land about which Roman historian Pliny wrote, when Roman Senators complained about the flow of gold to India in return for  black pepper. You do not have to go far to look for the politics of food, if you look for the history of the need for black pepper and other spices. This is where the legendary port of Muziris was, from where gifts were sent to King Solomon! Where St Thomas the Apostle landed. We have defeated the Dutch in battle. Our Kings were more forward thinking and less flamboyant.  And it is not all Portuguese influence, as one person on Bourdain's show seemed to imply! Jews were there before Christ. I belong to that group - Nazrani. descendants of the ancient Jewish population in Kerala. Phoenicians, Arabs and Persians came there too. So did the Chinese. Kerala was from where they got their martial arts. Compared to all that the  Portuguese was a recent intrusion. And there was Christianity in Kerala before their arrival. They forcibly made us Roman Catholic, that is all. The Portuguese may have brought tomato to Kerala. But we already had various types of tamarinds, garcinia, and mangoes, so the cuisine did not suffer that much, I should say. Also, the Portuguese did not go empty-handed either. They took away more than they gave. Like all the rest of the  East India Company traders.
Kerala - Roman - Middle East connection http://www.keralatourism.org/muziris/

To see Kerala through Mr B's eyes, and stomach ( :) ) , was pleasantly engaging. of course, what he showed was just a little bit of street level Kerala. Very much a part of it, but just one part. But then we all know that is what Mr Bourdain does.And  I was happy, on the whole, as just seeing a bit of that greenery makes my day. He missed out on both Nazrani and Malabari/Muslim cuisines, along with all other traditional and also regional basics. So what if Mr B did not taste even the standard, run of the mill 'fish curry meal" , or notice the fact that we keralites eat a variety of rice that is different from most other states'? As it is, it is a special, nutritious and delicious rice which is not bleached but double-boiled with hints of  brown on it. Rich in thiamine. Or the "kanji" from that rice, with the Nazrani staple "beef and  green banana varattiyathu". Mr B did not savor the aroma or the taste of pearl onions sauteed in ghee, poured over the above mentioned rice. !! Or the numerous jackfruit dishes, with or without coconut. Nor did he see or taste our "upperis" or "thorans" and "mezhukkupurattis" -- our versions of salads, where we make use of all kinds of veggies and greens, from the crunchy, white inside of the plantain trunk, to the tender, green shoots of the bean plant -- another standard, basic food of Keralites. And all the "appams"!! Come to think of it, I wonder at whoever acted as guides for this show?!!! oh well!

Then I happened to read the comments, and  I started to remember certain "facts" Mr Bourdain made in passing. For instance, the assumption that all elections in Kerala are rigged,. 1957 's was not a rigged election. Mr B! In fact, it was some of the enlightened "upper" caste leaders who lead that revolution.


Along with that it dawned on me that some people only see what is shown here. They will never see the rest of Kerala or India, or wouldn't want to, if they had the chance. So this is the only lesson they get! And that set me thinking again. Again conveniently reinforcing their exalted ideas about themselves and the opposite about others.

Someone said India should be a parking lot for Asia and other derogatory stuff, I have to remind them that not all nations get to throw up their superfluous onto other nations, and not all superfluous get to kill off the natives and grab all their land, and start a new nation from scratch. Nor do they get to start up wars anywhere they like so that they can fill up their dwindling coffers, at the same  time make their citizens' jingoist hearts swell with pride and patriotism.

And the caste system -- as if they are new to that! the slavery and the aftermath has been swept under the rug? of course, most people are drugged senseless here, by TV and shopping.
India is an ancient country, and it has an ancient culture, (not to speak of a different climate!) its landmass has been reduced by hook or by crook, and its people are just waking up from centuries of colonial abuse.



As for the concern about  cleanliness, of course we are too, actually I haven't seen or tasted much of what Mr Bourdain ate!! (And we do have breaded beef and starch dishes,  if that is the epitome of "civilization" and prettiness!!.) There is a huge majority who eat only clean, healthy (and also unhealthy, fatty , since that is a criterion for an advanced civilization!!!)  homemade food.


Anyway  I guess it is much better than eating almost-touched -by fire raw meat, and fish. Or drinking milk from cows that aren't cows anymore. I mean a herbivorous animal fed on meat! or the sausages, and the chickens and the eggs and so on and so on.
Or the mush that they serve here in the name of "curry" or the "curry powder" that they sell as spice!!!
and they add that thing to everything, and call it Indian!!

I know it is a natural tendency of many of  the so called First World to assume that they are the superior ones in everything, and  smugly watch the misery of others, pretending all is cool with them and their lot. I would be ideal if people knew that every culture is different, and that India has a huge population, in which each state, each district, each community, and each family is different. There is no standardized, assembly line home style food making here, for good or bad. For a westerner, it is an almost incomprehensible unique individualistic but collective identity that is India. Also, talking about differences in culture, and a foreigner's perception and expectations when they visit India, in this case, Kerala, let me give an example, esp. since Bourdain is taking us not to high end restaurants but to the low end eateries. Well, there lies the rub. For instance take the beach culture that you can experience almost anywhere in the world. But come to Kerala with its beautiful beaches -- there is no such culture here. Not many outdoor eateries where the whole family or women can go. Yes, the class structure even thoug hit is slowly dissolving is still very much there. Does that mean people do not eat good food? They do, but mostly at home. If Bourdain wanted to see low-end eateries serving tasty Kerala food, he should have gone to college or university students, youngsters at workplaces. But even then, he may not srike luck, because again, these will be mostly the male sex, thereby missing a whole chunk of ideas from the majority of the population.( The reason for a  lack of a beach and outdoor and a commercialized foodie culture in Kerala can be traced to the traditional ways of controlling women. Sadly. That needless to say has many other consequences, least of all being that the people there seem to be idiots, again, sadly. Add to that the idea that has been ingrained in the patriarchal minds about cooking as a whole -- it is a woman's job. And a woman's place is in the kitchen of her own home. And the work she does there is not appreciated or valued or considered important. So there is no real incentive to take that cooking out to the public. Granted, there is an instance of untapped potential resourcewise and marketwise, with regards to local food taken to the public stage. As it is, it is mostly a man's world. Things are changing, of course, but slowly. But I still have hopes for my state -- not to blindly ape western habits, for example, please stick to drinking water! not Coke and Pepsi, and keep using those spices, and not cheese and salt and sugar -- but treat the women as human beings.)


 But I don't think Mr Bourdain meant that to happen. I hope not! Because I always admired his lack of condescension and ability to get along with everyone.  Accepting them for what they are, even respecting them, without that sense of superiority that plagues others. Which makes one distrustful... .He never seemed to  be one of those show persons who show only the Magnificent Miles of their own country, and went a-scavenging in others.(anyway, it is taken for granted that the white world is rich and happy, they needn't be afraid that people will misunderstand!) Showing just this bit of Kerala cuisine makes it rather representative of the whole state's cuisine, which is far from reality. Almost like me assuming that eating opossums and innards is representative of white American cuisine, thinking those are the the only things that the whites eat. Or that everything is porridgy or "custardly" and are in a rather dastardly manner pushed through various implements to form curls or swirls and slivers. Bourdain's disdain for simple food is unhealthy -- the less processed and breaded, the more nutritious. Anyway, reduction should stay as a culinary technique, not as a method to reduce the cuisine of a whole civilization. Like they did with the branding, 'curry".For the colonial powers it was a systematic reduction of everything that was Indian, of course, their history, philosophy, religion etc -- part of their exploitation agenda, and placing imperialist machinery of law, politics, and education in their place. for instance, see Macaulay's educational ''reforms' tailored for Indians, which we sadly follow even now.

But getting back to the Bourdain matter,  the boorish comments from the viewers color the whole thing for me -- negatively. makes me wonder if here is just another white guy pretending.....another phony.... or just human? after all, not everyone can be a Henning Mankell. could it be another instance of "all are equal, some are more..."? I want to be proved wrong.


Still, all this, including my reaction, ( because I know that I can't blame Mr B for the comments from a few of his fans, but that is what triggered these thoughts)  leaves a bad taste in the mouth, and I will stay clear off Bourdain's show  at least for a while.
Aah! that feels better -- end of rant.

And something else -- Mallu TV channels broadcast the "fact" that Mr B came all the way from America   in order to discover the favorite foods of Mammootty, Kerala's beloved actor. :D

Mammootty

PS: I just read this again. and my goodness! I wince! what an embarrassing rant! but there it is. :) I have to agree that things can be better.
I realize I have to work on this piece some more. later, when I have the time and patience. for instance why do I have pictures of our food here? Do I need to prove that our food is better and tastier than any other? but it is inevitable that the second rate world citizen gets angry, because in his mind, he is not second rate, but he knows that in their eyes he is, or they prefer to think he is so.
someone once told me that the proletarian and the feminist have one thing in common -- they whine.
I should also add, they become defensive too. and not just them -- well -- I guess it is a part of the  subaltern effect.




(UPDATE: $20 billion - Temple's secret vaults yield treasure - World news - South and Central Asia - msnbc.com
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/43629294/ns/world_news-south_and_central_asia/

wonder how the Brits overlooked this bit of treasure. one reason could be the lack of flamboyance on the part of Kerala kings. the British, and the others, did take a lot (an understatement, if I didn't make it clear) - one gets an inkling of the enormity of their loot from the kingdoms of India. .)

fish in coconut milk - nazrani mode

erissery

basic upperi/mezhukkupuratti

malabar pathiri

noolappam and malabar egg masala

Anyway  I guess it is much better than eating almost-touched -by fire rare meat. Or drinking milk from cows that aren't cows anymore. I mean a herbivorous animal fed on meat! or the sausages, and the chickens and the eggs and so on and so on.
Or the mush that they serve here in the name of "curry" or the "curry powder" that they sell as spice!!! haha
and they add that thing to everything, and call it Indian!!

I know it is a natural tendency of many of  the so called First World to assume that they are the superior ones in everything, and  smugly watch the misery of others, pretending all is cool with them and their lot.



beef cutlets and yogurt sallaas - nazrani's

kappayum meen vattichathum/ tapioca and fish in hot sauce

paalappam and mutton stew -- nazrani's

kerala egg puffs

But I don't think Mr Bourdain meant that to happen. I hope not! Because I always admired his lack of condescension and ability to get along with everyone.  Accepting them for what they are, even respecting them, without that sense of superiority that plagues others. Which makes one distrustful... .He never seemed to  be one of those show persons who show only the Magnificent Miles of their own country, and went a-scavenging in others.(anyway, it is taken for granted that the white world is rich and happy, they needn't be afraid that people will misunderstand!) Showing just this bit of Kerala cuisine makes it rather representative of the whole state's cuisine, which is far from reality. Almost like me assuming that eating opossums and innards is representative of white American cuisine, thinking those are the the only things that the whites eat.

But wrongly, maybe, such boorish comments from the viewers color the whole thing for me -- negatively. makes me wonder if here is just another white guy pretending.....another phony.... or just human? after all, not everyone can be a Henning Mankell. could it be another instance of "all are equal, some are more..."? I want to be proved wrong.
 As it is, the majority of commenters are gracious.

Still, all this, including my reaction, ( because I know that I can't blame Mr B for the comments from a few of his fans, but that is what triggered these thoughts)  leaves a bad taste in the mouth, and I will stay clear off Bourdain's show  at least for a while.
Aah! that feels better -- end of rant. ;)
 I just hope you don't come before my mom, Mr B! :))
And something else -- Mallu TV channels broadcast the "fact" that Mr B came all the way from America   in order to discover the favorite foods of Mammootty, Kerala's beloved actor. :D

Malayali's puttu and kadala



upma and payaru

a few nazrani x'mas dishes

malayali's sadya

malabar chicken biryani

kerala/malabar porotta



malabar mutton korma

Kerala- Roman - Middle East connection http://www.keralatourism.org/muziris/






A Reader on Mothers and Virgins

http://fictionfood.wordpress.com/2010/05/10/food-syrian-christian-style/


The only person who wrote at least something about my book - he gave up on it too when he shut down his site.