Engulfed in a sea of Keralites, the procession seems to be neverending. Dancing kalari warriors, old ladies with painted faces, muscled up teenagers, 12 feet tall puppets, marching bands, electric cars carrying a whole array of paper constructions on their backs, military personnel and the occasional guy that looks as if he’s just here for the money: he’s tired and waiting for his check so he can go home.
In Thiruvananthapuram, the whole avenue from Kankakounè palace to the east port is blocked by authorities. There’s thousands upon thousands of people of all ages on the side of the street. They are all here to celebrate the closing ceremony of the ten day Onam festival.
Traditionally, it is a celebration of the harvest season, when the food is plentiful and the sun is shining high for all.
Historically, the festival began a long time ago, when king Mavelli ruled over Kerala. It is believed to have been a time of peace and prosperity for everyone. In these times, there was no cast system and everyone lived together as one with great joy.
When the king died, the keralites decided to honor him once a year with the the famous Onam festival. It is believed that the soul of Mavelli comes back to Kerala every year to check up on his people. Therefore, in homage to him, the locals come together to build flower arrangements, dress up in style and prepare special meals to share with the whole family. It is a time a well awaited celebration for the citizens.
A local told me that even if you are poor, even if you are miserable, you owe it to yourself that at least one day in a year, you walk on this earth as a king. That’s what Onam is all about.
For my first time in India, I’ve been very fortunate to make friends amongst the local people. What was supposed to be a three weeks stay in Kerala turned into three months.
I’ve been lucky enough to stumble upon Abdul, a man of many surprising talents, early on in my travels. As an old ayurvédic doctor, he made me experience the Karkala month the ayurveda way: a 30 days of thorough cleansing. Ideally coming out the other end stronger and more vital.
Once Onam came, he offered me my very own Onam dress. I then became an official Kerala man. Having learned many Malayalam words, I can now confidently express myself shakily in the local language. As always, the ‘’thank you’s,’ and the ‘’how are you’s’’ are the first to be used.
I have been welcomed as a brother. I have been added to the family as one of their own. I am a fortunate man in a land filled with kind and generous people. Being out here in Kerala has truly been a lesson on the art of welcoming. My three months here raised the bar on what it means to be a graceful host.
The first Onam day, the flower arranging begins. Groups of guys pool their resources and buy as much flower as they can afford and then go on building flower altars. You can walk around the village and see for yourself.
As each day passes, the altar grows bigger and more splendid, ultimately reaching its zenith on the 10th day. Then, a ritual takes place where the whole creation is ripped apart by a man possessed by a spirit entranced in the loud music that’s being blasted full force out of the six 4 by 4 speakers sitting in the back.
During Onam, the special meal is named Sadhya. Traditionally served on a banana leaf, there is an array of curries served with rice. Many stages uncover themselves over the course of the meal, leaving you with a belly full of delicious food and a strong desire for a nap.
As it seems to be ‘’the way life is’’ in my case, I am invited to the best place in the neighborhood to enjoy a sadhya meal: The Oyster Marris Homestay.
Not only is the food worthy of a five stars rating but the hosts also teach you about the history and cultural ways of the keralites. The place is truly a must for those passing by the Thiruvananthapuram area.
Going for a walk after a meal fit for an overweight king, I keep stumbling over my dhoti, the traditional cloth worn around the waist by the people of Kerala. Although the style is like no other, as a westerner, I am more fit to wear pants.
As my time in Kerala comes to a close, I give thanks for all the gifts that came my way, all the friends I’ve made and all the adventures that have happened.
This year has been my first Onam with the locals and If I get a say in the matter,
it won’t be my last.
