09.13.07 Ganpati Hunting

So if you didn’t get the picture in the last post, or if you’re just tuning in, the celebration for Ganesh’s birthday in Mumbai is enormous! It’s kind of like Christmas and the Fourth of July with Flag Day parades and the blessing of the fleet all at once.

There are these temporary temples set up all over town around idols of the elephant headed god that are going to be thrown into the sea. It all sounds very Dada – art made under the philosophy that ephemerality adds beauty, poignancy and freedom. So when they drove me past one the biggest installations I thought it was wonderfully serendipitous that it was in the neighborhood called Dadir. Remember these people learned to speak English from the Brits, so they don’t say their ending r’s.

There were a couple of temples set up in Dadir. And such crowds! The line stretched for blocks. The crowd at one was so thick that I didn’t bother to get out of the car. I wouldn’t have got through the gate!

At the other I had to get out and take some shots of the gate. It was so unbelievable to me that they would build these things temporarily. It had towers and onion domes and peacocks, and what all. The line of people were standing to one side behind a rope, so I ventured down the allee to see what the temple itself looked like. I wasn’t going to stand in line to see the idol.

I was not disappointed. There were bridges and lawns and lawn ornaments!

I walked toward the back of the set up where I could get close enough to take pictures of the bas relief of elephants. There were some police officers sitting through the long morning, and a family resting on a low wall dressed for the event in beautiful clothes. I asked if I could take their picture, but they said no. I turned to go when the father called out to me. I thought he might have changed his mind when I saw he was pointing toward the guards. The guards were gesturing inviting me to go in the back way! I was learning about the privilege of being a tourist!

This idol was advertised as being the biggest in Mumbai. And it was certainly impressive. I didn’t try to get up close to it, but just appreciated and snapped a picture for you.

My driver and the woman at the hotel who had booked the car for me both told me that I needed to go to Shree SiddhiVinayak Temple. This is the permanent big Ganesh temple in Mumbai. I was a little uncertain about going during this festival with the crowds and what not, but the driver took me as close as he could (about a block away) and it looked like a pretty easy to walk, not too many crowds. The street was lined with flower stalls, great golden curtains of blossoms waiting to be taken in and blessed. I was not quite ready for all the hucksters.

I was first approached by a monk in robes with lines painted on his face who grabbed my hand and started wrapping a red string around it, saying ‘From my god to your god’ and then did a little prayer. I thanked him when he was done and he rubbed two fingers together asking for a donation. I chuckled and gave him r50 and he disappeared.

A little further on was a guy with a card table covered with baskets of flowers who approached me and asked me where I was from, and did I want to go in, and that he had a ticket to get me in, and I thought why not. So I left my sandals at his table (no shoes in temple) and took the flowers and we walked on. Some little kid came along and threw some red carnations on a string on top of my box of flowers and I said no, but he shook his head and said I should keep them.

My guide did a nice job of keeping the other hucksters away. Though he waved at a few of the loiterers and I thought I saw a twinge of envy in their eye as they smiled and waved back at us. He had caught a live one.

They’ve built a big wall around the temple, installed security cameras and built a new temple over the old one to protect against car bombs and terrorists. There’s apparently always a crowd at this place. There were certainly a lot of people there, and from the cattle runs there was room for a lot more.
He took me through the metal detector at the security check point after first telling me to give my new camera to the nice policeman. No cameras allowed inside.

We walked to the far side of the temple trailing our little friend of the red carnation, and getting more smiles from the folks hanging around. I wonder if I had a goofy smile on, or did I look completely bewildered? My guide talked to a guard at the gate and disappeared inside for a bit, then came back out and told me to hang on. He disappeared again and came back and said it would be just a minute. He had given one of the guards r500 to get in. I suppose I should have balked, but it’s only $10.

The gate swung open and we went in. Our little friend was told to wait outside.

The inside of the temple soared up 50’. There was a central atrium with balconies running around it, and in the center were two smaller temples. The one in the center was a hexagon and had 3 sets of double doors on one half leading into it. The crowd was pushing in and out and I discovered that there were steps leading down as I tripped through the crowd.

Three young priests, stripped to the waist in white lungi (skirts) were taking the fruit and flowers offered and passing them by the idol and incanting the prayers and handing them back to the worshippers. I was waiting for an opening in the flow of people in order to join them when I felt a firm hand in my back pushing me in. I was surprised when the crowd actually gave way and I moved to the front. The priest smiled at me and did his thing, handed me back my offering and threw a half a small coconut on top and was on to the next.

We made our way back out of the temple, picked up my camera from a different policeman and got back to the table where the haggling began. He started at r6000 and I countered with 2. He said he had to pay the guard 1000, and I said I thought it was r500. He said there were two guards, and I shook my head. He mentioned that there was the cop who held my camera, and I said, pulling out my wallet, that I in America we don’t pay an official extra for doing his job and handed him 3 r1000 notes.
He started telling me that he just paid for his brother’s very expensive operation, and I really wanted to laugh. I put on my sandals, thanked him with my prayer hands to my lips and then gave him another r500. $75 for a private vip tour of a major tourist attraction at the height of the season seemed reasonable. After all, the line was longer than going to the Empire State Building. Even so, I still felt that I’d been hustled a little.

I suddenly remembered my little friend with the carnations I didn’t want. He suddenly reappeared and dogged me for a bit. He had his hand out and I gave him a surprised look. I then dug some coins out of my pocket and handed them to him. He gave them back and demanded r100. I laughed and put the coins back in my pocket, pointed at my guide and told him to go ask the guy I had just given money to. He started to protest and I gave him a firm No, and he disappeared.

I found my driver across the street. As I approached the car, the cop who had taken my camera walked up to me. He asked if I had gotten it back. I said that I had and thanked him, heartily noting how kind people were in India. He asked me where I was from and I said New York. He commented that it was a very rich city and I countered that it was a very expensive city.
Then I got an idea.
I asked him if he knew my guide, and he said he did. I gave the cop a big smile, patted his shoulder and told him that I left something with his friend for him. I got into the car and scolded by my driver for not leaving the camera in the car.

I chuckled all the way to the next stop.

Everybody hustles a little in India.