Pongal-ed Out

When planning my trip to India, I should've looked up holidays and celebrations for this area.  This past weekend was Pongal for the state of Tamil Nadu, and when Indian's have a holiday they celebrate for days and days and days.  I'm not really sure what day Pongal starts, and when it really ends.  Our favorite restaurant around the corner from us has been closed for 4 days now in honor of the holiday.  Since Friday, we have attended 3 different Pongal celebrations, two of which were with women's self-help groups, and have been invited to what seems like a million more festivals and gatherings.

Pongal is their Harvest Festival, similar to our Thanksgiving. On Friday, we were invited to attend our first celebration at one of the self-help group meetings.  We were treated almost as royalty, and I felt a little uncomfortable about it.  I suppose in American families we go out of our way to make sure our guests are doted upon, but I feel as if they went above and beyond.

We were among the few special guests to receive chairs while everyone sat on the concrete rooftop where the celebration was held.  We received flowered necklaces of wild jasmine and were anointed with sandalwood water.  There was a special introduction and thanks given for our presence, and Carmen (our new Canadian intern) and I were given the honor of lighting the oil lamps surrounding the Pongal centerpiece.  Or at least trying to and failing due to the fierce winds we were experiencing on the roof.

The celebration itself was beautiful.  First, three or so women worked together to pain a design, colum, on the rooftop with colored chalked powder made from rice.  Although they were working separately on different parts of the design, it was amazing to see how they were all in someway synced, even without looking at a patter or a picture, to create a unified piece of art.  No communication, just individually working.  Traditionally the Pongal feast is cooked in a big pot in the center of the colum.  But because we were on top of a roof, a few women prepared it inside then brought it out.  Once placed in the center, oil lamps, flowers, and four stalks of sugar cane were placed around it.


As guests we were some of the first to be served.  Pongal is made up of rice, lentil, ghee, and a brown sugary mix called jaggeri.  The jaggeri made it almost too sweet for me to handle. After the meal, the only three men present at the celebration who had been seated at the other end of chairs, approached JB and asked if we would stay a bit longer for some pictures.

Turns out a photographer from a local newspaper had been notified of our presence.  First a group shot, then once a few people started having individual photos with us, everyone assumed we were some sort of celebrities and wanted their photo too.  Even the photographer had to hop in for a shot.  I have no idea who these men were and what social status of importance they possessed, but it was so bizarre.  In the end, I felt terrible for taking the attention away from the beautiful celebration these women had put on.

We never even looked to see if we actually made it the paper.

Tuesday night we went along with the girls from the protection home and a few of the boys to a festival they were performing at.  We weren't told where it was, what it was, or how long we would be there. Just piled in and went. (Piled in meaning 25 people crammed into a 16 passenger van...)  On the way, the girls readied themselves in their matching sarees putting on makeup and jewels.  They looked absolutely beautiful.  The van took a turn off the main road and we started bouncing along a dirt road, swerving off the side to avoid oncoming trucks and buses, as we headed into the heart of a small village.  Intercoms were placed all along the main road, blasting to songs and music from the celebration from within.  We were bombarded by women the moment we stepped off the bus and quickly escorted to a small house, the staging ground.

The girls were apparently the headlining act, and Alex, a staff member at MCCSS was our MC.  I wasn't aware of the talent these girls had and the time they must have spent practicing and rehearsing their numerous routines.  We were escorted yet again to the front, given chairs along the side of the stage.  There was traditional dances, singing, and drumming.  Two of the small girls were even allowed up on stage for their own improv dance.  The final act was a 10 minute dance sequence while balancing what looked like mini Christmas trees on their heads.  A trick I attempted, and couldn't even balance it for a minute.  The crowd loved them.

We were then escorted out by a police officer, a little unnecessary probably, but also thankful to prevent another round of picture taking.  The whole event lasted well over five hours.  We were exhausted to say the least, and after a gracious meal provided by a family that Isabel didn't even know, we piled back in the van. This time with an extra passenger and more drums.

As much as would have loved to sleep on the drive back home, it was impossible.  Despite being well overcapacity, somehow a dancing party and dance off broke out.  Only in India.