Bonalu Festival: first of many festivals

Attending the first Hindi festival in Hyderabad came on the same day of the first heavy rains. 

After a semi-productive day of shopping on Sunday, which included the purchases of dish soap, dishes, a (maybe useless) internet router, and tape, we heard that there was a festival nearby.  Drums and music had filled the air all afternoon.  Check it out? Of course!

We took a walk through the muddy, polluted road water, past the garbage dump – the smell rank after the rain.  Chicken remains – feet, bones, feathers – and assorted intestines lined the road where dogs feasted.   

Yes, vegetarianism looks real good from where I am standing.

The incense from the festival was a welcome gust of pleasantry.  We arrived at the temple alit and full of people.  Observation was our goal.  But we seemed to be the ones on display.  These devotees had their Westerner-radar on high.  We were quietly observing from across the street, yet many heads turned to watch us.  So we snapped a few pictures and began to return home. 

Halfway down the road a couple of men stop us:

‘Do you want to come and see inside the temple?  We can arrange for you to pray, be blessed, and receive food?’

We look at each other with blank stares.  Should we?  Is this allowed?  Is it disrespectful? Who is this guy? Do we want to? He repeats,

‘Come and see the goddess.  You can pray.’

Again, we share ‘I don’t know’ looks with one another.

‘Do you understand English?’

‘Haha, yes, we understand English.  Yes, ok.’

So we walk back with him as he explains that this is the goddess who will protect the area from disasters.  We take off our shoes.  There is a man videotaping us and everyone is staring.  We walk up the temple’s stone stairs that lead to the altar.  Flowers, bright fabrics, floral and sandal wood scents (among others).  We wait until our unofficial guide goes into the altar area.  (Kamrin is given a baby to hold while we wait – he is adorable.)

We go into the altar with about fifteen other people.  Prayers, blessings, bell ringing, fragrant smoke wafting – I wafted with my left hand, oops!, this is a no-no.  Finally we were anointed with a red substance on our foreheads.  We are given bags of rice as we leave.  Re-shoed – feet so gross – we began our walk home again.  Thank you!

They were very welcoming and it was quite the experience.  Initiated into India, I think so. (What did I tell y'all about this hair? It's a mess.)