We were on our way to Karaikudi in Chettinad when we found ourselves at a vegetable market near Madurai. We stopped to take in the action. Business was brisk. Women were shopping for the next day’s main meal.
Colourful blankets, spread on the ground, were de facto kiosks to display produce. Squatting vendors worked to balance antique scales with weights and balances as they tallied purchases.
There were small red onions, long green beans, brown husked coconuts, fat orange carrots, beige new potatoes, ripe red tomatoes and mounds of shiny green chilies. Eggplants came long and white, round and purple or in striped mauve orbs. They all told the story of what the farmers had been tending in the fields we glimpsed from the road on our journey.
A woman, face wrinkled and hollow, looked nonchalant as a cow wondered up from behind her to lap up some of the onions that spilled from the pile on the tarp where she sat. She did not, could not, protest.
All cows are sacred in India. Shiva, the mightiest of the Hindu Gods, has a bull named Nandi who is his transport and in constant attendance to him. The reasoning follows that if a cow is near now, perhaps Shiva is as well.
A second pass
On our second pass around the place, a slim man dressed in a pressed orange shirt and dusty blue dhoti (men’s sarong) beckoned for me to come near. He was holding a small coconut towards me.
I pressed my palms together to greet him and mimed my lack of money. He waved off my confusion and pressed the coconut into my hands before bowing and pressing his own palms together. As I took the gift he smiled.
I pressed my hand to my heart and smiled back in gratitude. Bowing my head a little, I noticed he was missing a few toes on his left foot. I could not deny him the joy of giving what he could anymore than I could help wondering how he lost those toes.
I realized that after a mere fifteen minutes in the market we’d been sized up. We were the only foreigners and as such, of course we stood out. Especially as one of us had a camera and the other was jotting notes and asking questions (through our Tamil-speaking Travel XS guide, Charles). The coconut felt like we had passed a test.
We left feeling our presence was not only tolerated but, our genuine interest and kind intentions were perceived and appreciated. Food provided a key to connect. Once again, it opened a door between cultures when words could not.
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