When Jarrod & I were planning our trip to India, we didn't do any planning. Well...that's not entirely true. We had some vague idea of where we wanted to go and what we wanted to see, definitely what we wanted to get out of the experience. But we only had one date and focus on the calendar for sure: to spend October 2nd in Kanyakumari for Gandhi's birthday.
Kanyakumari has a temple at the southernmost tip of the town - the southernmost tip of India - where Gandhi's ashes were laid. Every year on October 2nd, on Gandhi's birthday, a ray of sunlight comes through the roof of the temple and shines on his gravestone. It is a very special and important day for the people of India - how important we did not know until the day arrived.
We had decided a week before that we wanted to be as traditional as possible when visiting the temple on this special day, so the morning of Oct. 2nd we asked the cleaning lady in our hotel to help me fit my saree and Jarrod's lungi. She showed us the traditional southern way to wear our clothing. We both felt a little silly all dressed up and weren't sure how folks were going to react to us, but we decided to give it a shot and head out that way anyways.
Everyone stares at you when you're white in India, but the stares were double on this day, and the reactions quadrupled. We had many smiles and handshakes - people thanking us for "showing respect to India". Some people laughed. Lets be honest - we looked out of place; but overwhelmingly people were shocked and appreciative. For example, one family having a reunion on the beach - maybe about 20 people - asked us to pose in their professional photographs with them. We obliged. We had to start saying no to requests so that we could actually visit the monument.
The temple was packed to the max. People were pushing and shoving to get a passing glimpse of Gandhi's resting place and place their hands under the ray of sunlight. I've never been sweatier in my life. As we nudged and waded our way to the monument, we took as many pictures as we could and soaked up the scene. And before we were leaving, we decided to take one last picture together...in front of the monument. A guard, even though he wasn't sure how to work the camera, was kind enough to humour our request. The crowd of people parted, and for a moment it seemed as if everyone decided to be patient - stop the pushing, hush the noise - let the foreigners soak this all in. Time maybe stopped for a moment to honor this incredible man who made India what it is today.
The next morning, we decided to do one last walk around Kanyakumari before we would head out for our next stop, Trivandrum (which ended up being Kovalum....a story for another day). We soaked in the bathing ghats (which are supposed to be holy), and both managed to get injured - me more than Jarrod. I almost passed out in the middle of the ocean from the sight of my own blood. As we hobbled back into town, I waited outside as Jarrod stopped into a side shop to grab us a water. A local man came up to me there and said "excuse me madame....you....in the newspaper". Injured, exhausted, and a little peeved, thinking he was trying to sell me a newspaper as you are continually bombarded and hassled with vendors here, I said "I'm sorry, what?" And he said "I'll show you". He ran into the store next door, and came back to me with a newspaper in hand, and sure enough, there was our picture.
Our hotel receptionist translated the Tamil for us. He said that the caption read something like "foreigners visit Gandhi's temple on his birthday, dressed in traditional wear. In doing so, they show the utmost respect to India". Our cab driver that day told us that foreigners never get in the paper, and that this was the paper for Tamil Nadu - the entire state. On and off that day as we wandered around town, people recognized us and showed us our picture in the paper.
We were at the southernmost tip of India -where 3 seas meet (the Bay of Bengal, the Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean), where we had witnessed sunrise, sunset and moonrise all in the same day. This place was magical. Kanyakumari had given us so much and it seems no matter how unintentionally, we somehow were able to pay a small bit of thanks back.
Kanyakumari has a temple at the southernmost tip of the town - the southernmost tip of India - where Gandhi's ashes were laid. Every year on October 2nd, on Gandhi's birthday, a ray of sunlight comes through the roof of the temple and shines on his gravestone. It is a very special and important day for the people of India - how important we did not know until the day arrived.
We had decided a week before that we wanted to be as traditional as possible when visiting the temple on this special day, so the morning of Oct. 2nd we asked the cleaning lady in our hotel to help me fit my saree and Jarrod's lungi. She showed us the traditional southern way to wear our clothing. We both felt a little silly all dressed up and weren't sure how folks were going to react to us, but we decided to give it a shot and head out that way anyways.
Everyone stares at you when you're white in India, but the stares were double on this day, and the reactions quadrupled. We had many smiles and handshakes - people thanking us for "showing respect to India". Some people laughed. Lets be honest - we looked out of place; but overwhelmingly people were shocked and appreciative. For example, one family having a reunion on the beach - maybe about 20 people - asked us to pose in their professional photographs with them. We obliged. We had to start saying no to requests so that we could actually visit the monument.
The temple was packed to the max. People were pushing and shoving to get a passing glimpse of Gandhi's resting place and place their hands under the ray of sunlight. I've never been sweatier in my life. As we nudged and waded our way to the monument, we took as many pictures as we could and soaked up the scene. And before we were leaving, we decided to take one last picture together...in front of the monument. A guard, even though he wasn't sure how to work the camera, was kind enough to humour our request. The crowd of people parted, and for a moment it seemed as if everyone decided to be patient - stop the pushing, hush the noise - let the foreigners soak this all in. Time maybe stopped for a moment to honor this incredible man who made India what it is today.
The next morning, we decided to do one last walk around Kanyakumari before we would head out for our next stop, Trivandrum (which ended up being Kovalum....a story for another day). We soaked in the bathing ghats (which are supposed to be holy), and both managed to get injured - me more than Jarrod. I almost passed out in the middle of the ocean from the sight of my own blood. As we hobbled back into town, I waited outside as Jarrod stopped into a side shop to grab us a water. A local man came up to me there and said "excuse me madame....you....in the newspaper". Injured, exhausted, and a little peeved, thinking he was trying to sell me a newspaper as you are continually bombarded and hassled with vendors here, I said "I'm sorry, what?" And he said "I'll show you". He ran into the store next door, and came back to me with a newspaper in hand, and sure enough, there was our picture.
Our hotel receptionist translated the Tamil for us. He said that the caption read something like "foreigners visit Gandhi's temple on his birthday, dressed in traditional wear. In doing so, they show the utmost respect to India". Our cab driver that day told us that foreigners never get in the paper, and that this was the paper for Tamil Nadu - the entire state. On and off that day as we wandered around town, people recognized us and showed us our picture in the paper.
We were at the southernmost tip of India -where 3 seas meet (the Bay of Bengal, the Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean), where we had witnessed sunrise, sunset and moonrise all in the same day. This place was magical. Kanyakumari had given us so much and it seems no matter how unintentionally, we somehow were able to pay a small bit of thanks back.
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