A New Home for the Elephant God

The streets of Kuala Lumpur hide small, usually anonymous treasures. We've often wandered past makeshift Chinese and Indian shrines tucked away in alleys or lodged under trees and wondered what they're about, how they came to be, who worships there.

Near Imbi market we're alerted to an auspicious Indian occasion by the presence of hanging decorations made from coconut leaves. A new shrine to Ganesha, the Hindu elephant god, remover of all obstacles, is being conscecrated by a priest (in black) and his assistant. We're waved over by the small group of worshippers.

The shrine, or tiny temple, sits at the base of a sacred Bodhi Tree, a type of tree that, we're told, is rarely found in Malaysia's urban areas. One of the worshippers, a young man, 'owns' the shrine. The idea to set it up just came to him, he says. He arranged for the consecration ceremony, hiring the priest and arranging for a vegetarian meal to be served afterwards. He will be responsible for insuring that the temple is maintained and, when necessary, re-consecrated.

The priest begins by purifying the ground around the temple with turmeric water. Observers get a spray of drops as well, and are then invited past the line of coconut leaf decorations and onto temple's 'grounds'.

Laid before and to the side of Ganesha are apples, oranges, and mangoes, bananas in coconut halves, and a plate of rice topped with vegetarian foods. All will be distributed to worshippers after the ceremony is over.

Incense is burned and a flame passed before and around the shrine. A sanctified coconut is split in half and its water poured before the god.

After offering chandan, a powder made from sandalwood, to Ganesha, the priest smudges it on the foreheads of worshippers.

Those observing the ceremony from the temple's temporary 'kitchen' on the other side of the fence get a smudge as well, and so do we.

Before the ceremony is finished fruit is distributed to worshippers. The priest places it on a metal plate, along with a flower from one of Ganesha's garlands. Recipients rest their fingers on the rim of the plate as the priest blesses the fruit.

And then we're invited to lunch. Over in the kitchen, a 30-second walk from the temple, rice is swaddled in banana leaves and cloth. It's spooned onto banana leaves laid side-by-side on a long, makeshift table.

Out come bowls of southern Indian vegetarian dishes one after another, so many I lose count.

There's cabbage stewed with turmeric and cubes of firm tofu in a chile-tomato sauce. There's gravy thick with chunks of eggplant and potato and carrot, curried pumpkin, a raita of yogurt, cucumber, and onion, and a wonderful rice treat sweetened with jaggery. And there's a fried cauliflower dish that's found on most Indian menus, but this version is the best we've ever eaten, light on batter and grease, long on spice, and so light it almost floats.

   

We're not the only non-Indians here. Next to me sits a Chinese man who's worked at the market for years and, next to him, another Chinese vendor and his son. All wear a smudge of chandan on their foreheads.

'I know these people from the market,' he tells me. 'They're my friends.'

The mound of food on our banana leaves grows even as our stomachs shrink. We're forced to refuse the repeated offers of seconds made by our hosts.

After a while the owner of the temple appears with the platter of rice that was offered to Ganesha and offers it around (see opening photo). Tonight he'll fly to Kerala to make the pilgramage to Sabarimala Temple, an annual pilgramage that's the second largest in the world, after the Haj.

It's an auspicious thing to do, ingesting this rice that's been given to the god, and everyone wants a handful.

When we can eat no more we push ourselves back from the table. We chat with a man who's brother supplied the delicious food; he himself is retired from 30-plus years in the kitchen of the French Embassy. He also owns a small temple in KL, he says, and holds a ceremony there every year.

Feeling incredibly full - and lucky, to have stumbled across this occasion and been invited to participate - we take our leave and head back to the car, carrying our bag of blessed fruit.

Note: Many thanks to our hosts. This is but one of several occasions on which we have been welcomed - with grace and wide-open arms - to observe and photograph religious rituals observed by Malaysia's Indian community. Last year we documented another, larger gathering, here and here.

Comments

[dhanggit]

i love the shot where the man is eating on his hand!! beautifully captured!!!reminds me of my dad when he eats with his hands :-)

[cookies_cream]

Wow...each one of them got a can of carlsberg to go with their rice? :)

[Namrata Shukla]

nice photographs reminding us our Indian Culture.

[Moving]

The culture and the belief showed in this story seem to be so truly and naive, of course not violent or forced.
Even if it's the elephant-god or something, whether it makes sense or not, as long as they do what is good for the - it's great!
I also ask - when are they doing a little housewarming barbecue? :)