Madurai

We took a 1st class overnight train from Varkala to Maduria. The estimated arrival time for the train was 6am, we had hoped the train would get in a little late as they almost always do, allowing us the few extra hours of shuteye. This time it was early, two hours early; inconceivable! So we stumbled into town half asleep. We went straight to the hotel with the highest rating in our guidebook, The Supreme Hotel and hoped they would take pity on us. We were so relieved when we arrived and let us check in so early. We went straight to our rooms, and grabbed a quick nap before heading out for breakfast. We had a mediocre breakfast in the hotel restaurant, then found a pharmacy for some cold medicine. Leon was still fighting a cold that he caught in yoga camp. He tried the Aryvedic stuff, but now it was time for some good old fashioned western medicine. Heavily sedated, Leon took another nap; while Rachel and I went out to explore the city.
Madurai is a temple town, and attracts all manner of pilgrims. The diverse crowd makes for an entertaining walk. Our first sight as we rounded the corner of the main street, was a little girl walking on an tightrope along the street. We kept walking, and explored some of the local shops. We were searching for the famous flower market, which didn’t seem to be where the map said it was. A local man saw us looking at the map in confusion, and told us that the flower market had moved 4 km outside of town. Disappointed, we were about to head home, when he lured us into his shop. “I make you any item of clothing, only 80 rupees!” Rachel was looking for new clothes, and he was so funny and helpful, so we went to check it out. Once in the store, he pulled out all of his samples for us to view. Rachel settled on a pair of pants. She picked out her fabric, and stood for her measurements. “I’ll have them ready for you in two hours for only 550 rupees.” What happened to 80 rupees you might be wondering? Apparently, the fabric is nicer, and more of it was required than he had put into his original estimate. Rachel talked him down to 500 rupees, and agreed to come back the next day to pick up her new pants. It was getting late, so we headed back to the hotel to check on Leon and get some dinner.
After another mediocre meal, this time on the Hotel rooftop, we settled into our room for a movie; when, all of a sudden, Leon jumped out of the bed screaming! Bed bugs! Again! It was 1 am but we marched straight down to the front desk and demanded another room. The immediately gave us the keys to another room, and helped us move our bags. We asked how soon we could send our laundry out. They told us to bring it down at 8 am and they would take care of it. We came down the next morning at 8, but since the second room seemed to be infested too, we decided to change hotels completely. We calmly explained the situation to the hotel manager, expecting some sort of service. Instead of apologies, he had the nerve to charge us for two nights accommodation! The hotel has a 24 hour check-in/check-out policy, and since it was past 5 am we were technically there for 2 nights. We were outraged! There was nothing we could do except move, so that’s what we did.
We moved two blocks over to Sree Devi, and were delighted to find that our room was the penthouse suite! We were the only room on the rooftop terrace, with an amazing view of the Madurai temple. We sent our laundry out immediately and laid our back packs out on the terrace to soak up the sun and chase out any bugs that might have stowed away in our stuff. The hotel staff was more than helpful, and even offered to bring us lunch on the terrace so that we could watch our stuff. He went to a local restaurant, and came back with a traditional thali (meal) for us to enjoy.
After lunch, Leon and I went out to search for some souvenirs. We found a shop across the street from the temple that had handicrafts from all over India. We found some cute items and headed back to the hotel to meet up with Rachel, then we went to pick up Rachel’s pants from the tailor. They turned out great, and Leon and Rachel each decided that they wanted a shirt. The tailor was delighted! More business! We chose the fabrics, and both Leon and Rachel had their measurements done for their shirts. As we left the shop, the jolly tailor pointed us toward the evening parade and shouted for us to always remember our fat Indian brother. We were starving, but the parade was starting in five minutes and we didn’t want to be late. We drank some chai, and sampled some fried bananas and Indian hushpuppies as appetizers. The parade was short, but sparkling, as the temple animals (one elephant and two camels) marched by in the finest attire, followed by golden statues of the temple deities. After the short parade, we ate dinner and then returned to the temple for the evening parade.
The main event at the temple in Madurai is a parade inside the temple gates at 9 pm. Non-Hindus aren’t allowed inside the innermost temple where the statues of Shiva and his wife normally rest. Each night, the statues are placed into cases and carried into the outer temple. The temple priests surround the statues and sing lullabies to the deities as they walk before tucking them back into the inner temple for the night. We decided to tuck ourselves in for the night, and headed back to our rooftop abode. The attentive hotel staff brought beer up to us and offered to clean our room. It was 10 pm, and they had obviously waited for us to get home so that we could tip them, but they were so eager to please that we couldn’t resist. After they left we sat, relaxed, and reflected on the hectic day.
For a change of pace, we decided to spend the next day at the Ghandi Museum. The museum gave a very detailed look at the struggle for freedom in India, ending with the influence of Ghandi. As is usually the case when we visit museums, there was a school group there. They were very excited to see Americans in India, and asked about our knowledge and interest in Ghandi. They were thrilled to know that their national hero was an honored figure throughout the world. We left the museum and stopped at the corner stand for some fresh mosambi juice (mosambi is a Indian fruit; kind of a mix between an orange and a lime). While enjoying our juice, we were approached by two rickshaw drivers looking to drum up some business. They drove the traditional rickshaws, the ones propelled by bicycle, instead of the auto-rickshaws that we were used to. At first we were reluctant to ride with them because they seem so small and we were worried that our weight would be too much for them, but after talking to them and viewing pictures of their families and houses, we couldn’t give our business to anyone else. Leon and I climbed into one rickshaw, and Rachel rode in the other. It took them about 30 minutes to pull us back to our hotel, and the whole time we felt like we were on a parade float. Cars were passing us on the street honking and waving. Children and vendors would wave as we rolled slowly past. The drivers were surprisingly strong, and though you could tell that they were working hard, they were able to pull us all the way home. When we got the hotel, we thought that the agreed upon price (about $1) was too low, so we gave them a big tip ($2) for their efforts. Our driver was thrilled, and happily accepted some of the bottled water we offered him. Rachel’s driver was just as hot. He refused the water that we offered, but used his doti (the skirt like wraps worn by men) to wipe the sweat off his brow. He must have been really hot, because he pulled the doti up all the way, and to our amazement, revealed that he was wearing NOTHING underneath it! Right on the middle of the busy street! We were the only ones who seemed to think that there was anything unusual about this, of course.
Our final day in Madurai we thought we should catch up on some errands. Since we had purchased souvenirs earlier in the week, we made a trip to the post office to mail them home. We have sent a couple of packages home already, but this was by far the most complicated process we have ever encountered. The post office doesn’t provide boxes or packing materials. Instead, they send you to have your parcels wrapped by one of the street vendors. They also don’t use boxes, well not really. They take scraps of boxes and wrap them loosely around your package, then wrap cheesecloth around the whole thing. They then start sewing the cloth together around the package, working their way around, pulling the fabric tight as they go, so the whole thing looks like a misshapen football type thing. Then they melt wax, and put it over the seams. You write the address on the material with colored pens, and they use stickers and stamps for postage (they sew those on too). The whole process was extremely complex. It involved waiting in line several times and waiting for our packages to be wrapped. All in all it took about 3 hours and cost about $30 for the two packages. I will be amazed if they make it in one piece.
We had a great time in Madurai, but the monsoon is getting closer every day and the heat is chasing us north. We booked a train and headed north to Trichy. Stay tuned for more Adventures In India!

Madurai