(See part one, posted earlier, below)
Here is my stream of consciousness about our trip to the hindu temple and the long awaited
LINK TO THE PICTURES. (including 2 pics from my birthday dinner, having nothing to do with the hindu priest)
We arrived a few minutes late, but were among the first people there. We did not see any exploding cars on the way there. The temple was not what one thinks of when thinking of a temple, but instead was a small house, situated in a row of small houses, that apparently had been converted into a temple inside. Outside the temple there were hanging lines of colored triangle flags.
Inside we were immediately assaulted by bright colors, strong smells, and innumerable images of smirking hindu gods with dark eyebrows and bluish skin. Some of these images were pictures hanging on the wall, but the most striking were the plastic statues arranged as if on bleachers on an altar in one end of the room. These statues were all elaborately dressed in sequined gowns and tiaras just their size. Also striking was that each statue seemed to have a hobby. One was holding a guitar-like instrument while another held a book in her hand. My guess is these were all images of vishnu, demonstrating all her many skillful attributes. Still, I was half expecting to see one lurking in the back row, holding a tennis racket.
Upon hanging up our coats, we realized that everyone had also taken off their shoes, and so we did too. We then also slowly realized that there were no seats-- contrary to my judeo-christian expectation that there would be some kind of pews in which to sit. It was essentially a big empty living room carpeted in mauve, with the altar at one end of the room where all the vishnus were preciously arranged. Above the alter was a hollowed out section of the ceiling that was covered in mirrored tiles. Hanging from the centered of this mirrored ceiling cave was an oversize crystal chandelier. Old women were spreading out white, yellow or floral sheets all over the floor. Some women were starting to take a seat on the sheets, on the floor.
We sat on chairs at the far end of the room, unintentionally as far as possible from the alter. We sat there, quietly waiting, watching the ladies spread out the sheets. We tried to keep henry quiet. More people arrived, including some men who began setting up musical instruments- kinds of organs where one played a small keyboard while pumping it full of air in the back.
Eventually our priest arrived, wearing salmon colored silk robes. He greeted us with a huge smile as he quickly descended into the basement to hang his coat and remove his shoes. His wife was radiant in bright orange robes and a big smile, and she greeted us with big hugs.
The priest came to us and said we could sit wherever we were comfortable, but if we wanted, we should come to the front of the room. We could bring our chairs, or sit on the floor, as we wanted. We opted for the floor. The priest sat directly across from us on a huge silk pillow in front of a mini alter filled with brass objects. An elderly woman came to him with a box filled with spices. The spices were contained in large plastic containers- they appeared to be the type one buys at Costco. They looked like bulk quantities of paprika and garlic powder and sesame seeds, among others. The woman continued to help prepare the alter by adding pans of liquids and lighting small candles. There was a boy also near the alter, also helping prepare. He was dressed in maroon silk robes. We later learned that this boy was the priest's 12 year old son.
The priest had a bouquet of inexpensive looking, brightly colored flowers near him-- red carnations, magenta and blue-dyed daises and the like. While the woman prepared the alter, he began ripping the heads off the flowers and placing them in a basket next to him. He came to us and gave a maroon flower head to Henry. To our horror, henry started ripping the flower apart and eventually stepped on it.
The ceremony lasted somewhere in the vicinity of 3-4 hours, and is a complete blur to me, generally; I offer the following details in no particular order. People trickled in and I estimate there were about 100 people crammed into that little living room, all seated on the pale sheets on the mauve carpet. The priest burned incense throughout the whole ceremony. The service involved a lot of incantations, and the priest flinging spoonfuls of spices around his small brass-object-laden altar. It involved pans that looked like pie plates with a small votive candle inside. these pans were waived in 3 large circles by various participants in front of various people (including the priest, us, and the altar). In fact, toward the end, I think every participant came up and blessed the priest by waiving a dish around him 3 times. Many of those participants later came and blessed us the same way. the priest's son did this and then kissed our feet at the end. really. At one point in the service, several ladies came up to the priest, one by one, each carrying a pie-plate full of fruit. They said a few blessings with the priest, and then the priest sprinkled some spices and water and placed a flower head upon the fruit. the women then took the blessed fruit and placed it at the feet of the vishnus. Presumably these women were giving special offerings for individual prayers. Later the trays were removed, the fruits cut up and divvied up into parting goody-bags for everyone. The service also involved a lot of singing. But not group singing-- rather a microphone was passed around to about 10 different women, each of whom took a very long turn singing a song. Only one was partially in english, and the lyrics, repeated over and over and over were, "vishnu is our god. vishnu is our god. vishnu is our god." the style of singing was high pitched and wobbly. Many participants had little instruments, such as little cymbals or drums, and they were eager to share these instruments with Henry. (see video)
The uncontested highlight was the priest's sermon, which featured us. He read from the prayer book what I think was probably the weekly portion. He then related this portion to us, talking about "what do we really need? we think we need a car, for example, to get us from point A to point B. but what happens if our car catches fire? we realize we do not really need it." and "this text talks about destiny. It was destiny that Sister Jill was there on that day at that time. God put her there as my angel, to save me." This went on for a while. I blushed repeatedly. Then, as if that was not enough, he handed the microphone to me and asked me to speak. The thought that went through my head is "thank god I am a lawyer, because I can do this." Then when I finished speaking, his daughter came and presented me with a large bouquet of red roses with baby's breath, in a glass vase, with a mylar balloon that said "thank you!" tied to the vase. I don't think people actually applauded, but they might as well have.
As the service continued on, and on, and on, I told raph that the service was like a jewish goodbye- it just wouldn't end. We kept thinking it was over, and then more singing would commence. When it finally ended, everyone descended into the basement and ate. We, along with the priest, were clearly VIPs at the meal and did not have to wait in line for food but rather had plates and plates brought to us. The food wasn't half bad.
So, that's about it. Oh, the priest gave raph the silk scarf off his own neck as we were leaving. Despite the foreignness of everything, the people could not have been lovelier. they were so welcoming, so kind, and so grateful for our help with priest's exploding car. They welcomed us back anytime. Don't think we will be going back anytime soon, but it was fun and interesting and educational. Since then, I've been reading portions about hinduism from Huston Smith's World Religions. I have my old copy from my ISP (independent study project) in zen buddhism with Doc Failla back from junior year of loomis.
