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AFAR sent writer Leslie Jamison to the Indian Ocean island nation with just 24 hours’ notice. Arriving with no preparation and no plan, she caught a ride to the war-torn north to find out what kind of traveler she truly is.

After a string of personal losses, a writer heads to Tamil Nadu seeking solace from her sorrows. It takes two temples, a palm leaf astrologer, and the driver of a velour-lined taxi to make her feel whole again.

Overview

Overview

With the famous Mariamman Temple nearby, this part of Silom is a stronghold of South Indian culture. Catering to the hungry faithful is Tamil Nadu, which is reliably packed with Indian-Thai diners filling up on the restaurant’s wide selection of veg curries, dosas and thalis. Although the vegetarian options are the main focus, there’s a concise menu of meat curries including mutton, chicken or fish options.

The island nation of Sri Lanka, off the southern tip of India, was colonized by the Portuguese, Dutch, and English. Colonial rule is still evident in the capital city’s name, Colombo. Sinhalese and Tamil are Sri Lanka’s two official languages, though English is widely used. The culture is greatly influenced by Buddhist and Hindu traditions; the country has eight Unesco World Heritage Sites.

Sri Srinivasa Perumal Temple is a popular landmark in Little India, where much of Singapore’s sizable Tamil Hindu community works and worships. Originally a simple building on a plot of land, the temple became something entirely different in the mid-1960s with the addition of an elaborate five-layer gopura, or gatehouse tower. Each stepped level of the tower’s roof is crowded with vividly painted statues of royalty, dancers, and deities, as well as candy-colored architectural elements, all of which creates a remarkable celebratory effect. The temple has been granted protected status as a national monument by the government.

In the Tsunami of 2004 it is said that during Sunday morning mass the water slowly began to rise while the patrons raised their hands to the sky, water crept as hight as their chests and then suddenly, fell away again. Not all of the southern state of Tamil Nadu was so lucky, but visiting this beautiful white cathedral placed just meters from the shoreline a mighty presence can be felt. Home to the shrine of St. Thomas and the Christians of the neighboring fisherman’s village, “Santhome’s” doors stand open to the public and heart to it’s people.

Above the charming chaos of the streets of Chennai, located on the roof top of the Park Hyatt lies the Antahpura Spa. From the dimly lit hallways and locally inspired Tamil-herbal essences and Chettinad therapies, you can all but forget about the city below. Out of it’s loft-style windows and from within it’s hot and cold plunge pools the breezes sway laundry of adjacent rooftops methodically while you slip in and out of steam and sauna rooms. Treatments are based on ancient Indian wellness remedies and massage therapists are strong and subtle in their approach. The spa is modern, impeccably clean and beautifully designed.

Located on the grounds of the vibrant campus of the Kalakshetra Foundation in late February, a national association of craftsmen come together from around India to sell their wares. In a sandy and shady corner of the campus, tents are set up, lights are strung and mats full of ceramics, baskets, bangles and textiles are laid out on display. Vendors sell chaat items in newspaper cones, coffee and tea and the stage at night comes to life with the music, dance and performance of Kalakshetra’s prized academy. The baazar comes and goes, but the craftsmen can be found roving different cities and states keeping traditions alive.

For nearly a month from mid April to mid May Kapaleeshwarar Temple, comes alive with it’s Spring Festival. Usually housed in a giant nondescript garage, tales of the “Four Story Temple Chariot” had teased me for months as I circled the temple exploring this already vibrant neighborhood. However, in late March, early in the festival, the temple car emerges swathed in fabric, flowers, white horses and priests. It is pushed, pulled and heaved around the temple tank by the village’s men. Using ropes, sticks and ramps the wooden wheels - each the height of a man - are coaxed around the four corners of the tank while thousands of worshipers make offerings and crowd into the streets to pray.

Landing in heat-soaked Kuala Lumpur after being on the road for 24 hours can be disorienting. Incessant chanting (“vei vel shakti vel”), monkeys screeching, wafting incense, a glorious moon, and a million people.


Thaipusam falls on a full moon and is the celebration in remembrance of Lord Murugan (his statue pictured at the base of the steep 272 steps to the Waterfall Temple at Batu Caves - the top being the best view) who received the “vel” (sacred spear) from his mother, Shiva’s wife, to kill three demons. Killing internal demons seems to be the order of the day for devotees.


The festivities begin with a chariot bearing the statue of Lord Murugan being drawn through the streets starting from Sri Maha Mariamman Temple and then on the second day (when I arrived), the fulfilling of the vows by devotees takes place at the Batu Caves after people walk barefoot approximately 15 kilometers starting in the middle of the night from Kuala Lumpur. The chariot returns to the Temple on the third day.


The real highlight is watching devotees with huge decorated frames (“kavadi”= burden”) supported by spikes that pierce their chests and backs as penance for answered prayers. As one devotee said to me, “Life is an act of gratitude and this is the ultimate day of gratitude to our deities.” I felt a deep empathy for the intense devotion and commitment of the Tamil Hindus I witnessed. This is truly one of the world’s great festivals of purification and atonement.

Known for being a bit boisterous and rowdy, Little India has a distinct personality from the rest of Singapore. It can start to feel a few degrees hotter than the rest of the city as you dodge shoppers, temple goers, and trinket sellers on Serangoon Road. The crowds and pungent smell of flowers, curries, and frying prata excite and assault the senses. The sidewalks are taken up by racks of DVDs, cases filled with phone cards, carts selling garlands of fresh flowers, and men working at sewing machines. It’s a uniquely South Asian crush of color and hum of activity. If you head there on a Sunday—the day most Indian and Bangladeshi construction workers have off—the streets might be even more crowded than usual.

Legend has it that centuries ago, the locals here had a vision of a tiger approaching the pond where the Pilikula Artisans Village is now located—hence the village’s name (Pilikula means “tiger’s pond”). While you won’t see a tiger at Pilikula Artisans Village, visitors can view live demonstrations of pottery, blacksmithing, weaving on looms, oil extraction and threshing and cleaning of rice using the traditional methods of the Tulu Nadu people. The village is part of a larger eco-tourism center spread across 150 hectares (371 acres) on the outskirts of Mangalore.

East of Fort is the hectic, crowded labyrinth of Colombo’s central bazaar. Derived from the Tamil word for village, the Pettah is where to head to experience shopping in true, traditional Sri Lankan style—and a world away from air-conditioned malls. The thronging, hot and dusty streets are a frenzy of retail activity and where you can really feel the pulse of the city away from the main tourist haunts.