This pilgrimage of kavadi bearers reminded me of another religious celebration I watched in amazement on TV almost 6 years ago.
It was a few weeks after the invasion of Iraq. For the first time in many years (for these events had been repressed under Saddam Hussein), Shiites were allowed to perform their pilgrimage to one of the holiest Shiite sites in Iraq. On this pilgrimage, thousands of men walk for days rhythmically beating their backs and shoulders with heavy chains, while chanting their religious incantations. I was mesmerized by this sight and I immediately thought "what have we got ourselves into? Who are these people? And we want to establish a democracy in that country?"
There were similar acts of self-mortification in the celebration of Christian holy days ... and you can see some of them enacted in an Ingmar Bergman movie (The Seventh Seal): a procession of people flogging themselves ... but this was in the Middle Ages, 800-900 years ago. We do not see such scenes anymore in the Western world, certainly not in large cities.
Yet religious fervor still pushes Hindus to perform such acts in modern Singapore.
Here is a link providing more information on the festival:
http://www.etour-singapore.com/thaipusam-singapore.html
One thing struck me: none of these men seemed to suffer from their body piercings or from carrying loads that put pressure on many spikes anchored in their flesh. Some of them were even dancing around. What gave them that endurance, that forbearance of pain?
The white powder spread on the areas where the spikes entered their flesh must have been what prevented bleeding ... the article says that this is sacred ash!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
An Instructive Sunday Afternoon in Singapore
This was an unusual Sunday afternoon for me ... a rich Sunday afternoon experience, full of Asian culture. An afternoon of contrasts, going from the serenity of a Buddhist sculpture exhibition in a planned museum visit to the rambunctiousness of a Hindu festival on which I stumbled by chance ...
I - Serenity in Stone
A while ago I noticed a small poster at the American Club with a photograph of a beautiful Buddha sculpture advertising an exhibit at the Peranakan Museum, "Serenity in Stone: the Qingzhou Discovery".
I decided this afternoon to go see this exhibit. It features thirty five pieces from an important archaeological find in 1996 in Qingzhou, in the Shandong Province of Northeastern China. They date from the 6th century AD. They are very well displayed in this small museum on Armenian Street and they are, I think, the most exquisite Buddhist sculptures I have ever seen.
The two samples below show how appropriate the title of the exhibition is.
A buddha with Apsala dancers.
A Boddhisatva
II - Thaipusam Festival
While driving to the museum, I had noticed a colourful Indian parade on the streets. After leaving the Peranakan Museum, I went to the area around Dhoby Ghaut where this was taking place and parked my car to witness this event.
This was Thaipusam, an Indian festival on which Wikipedia has this to say:
"Thaipusam (Tamil: தைப்பூசம்) is a Hindu festival celebrated mostly by the Tamil community on the full moon in the Tamil month of Thai (Jan/Feb) ... Pusam refers to a star that is at its highest point during the festival. The festival commemorates both the birthday of Lord Murugan (also Subramaniam), the youngest son of Shiva and Parvati, and the occasion when Parvati gave Murugan a vel (lance) so he could vanquish the evil demon Soorapadman.
Devotees prepare for the celebration by cleansing themselves through prayer and fasting. Kavadi-bearers have to perform elaborate ceremonies at the time of assuming the kavadi and at the time of offering it to Lord Murugan. The kavadi-bearer observes celibacy and take only pure, Satvik food, once a day, while continuously thinking of God.
On the day of the festival, devotees will shave their heads and undertake a pilgrimage along a set route while engaging in various acts of devotion, notably carrying various types of kavadi (burdens). At its simplest this may entail carrying a pot of milk, but mortification of the flesh by piercing the skin, tongue or cheeks with vel skewers is also common.
The simplest kavadi is a semi circular decorated canopy supported by a wooden rod that is carried on the shoulders to the temple. In addition, some have a little spear through their tongue, or a spear through the cheeks. The spear pierced through his tongue or cheeks reminds him constantly of Lord Murugan. It also prevents him from speaking and gives great power of endurance. Other types of kavadi involve hooks stuck into the back and either pulled by another walking behind or being hung from a decorated bullock cart or more recently a tractor, with the point of incisions of the hooks varying the level of pain. The greater the pain the more god-earned merit."
This was a noisy pilgrimage. Each kavadi-bearer was surrounded by a group of people (family and friends?) cheering him on, chanting and beating drums. The ones in front of him were walking backwards, carrying the script for their chants and addressing themselves to him.
I - Serenity in Stone
A while ago I noticed a small poster at the American Club with a photograph of a beautiful Buddha sculpture advertising an exhibit at the Peranakan Museum, "Serenity in Stone: the Qingzhou Discovery".
I decided this afternoon to go see this exhibit. It features thirty five pieces from an important archaeological find in 1996 in Qingzhou, in the Shandong Province of Northeastern China. They date from the 6th century AD. They are very well displayed in this small museum on Armenian Street and they are, I think, the most exquisite Buddhist sculptures I have ever seen.
The two samples below show how appropriate the title of the exhibition is.
A buddha with Apsala dancers.
A Boddhisatva
II - Thaipusam Festival
While driving to the museum, I had noticed a colourful Indian parade on the streets. After leaving the Peranakan Museum, I went to the area around Dhoby Ghaut where this was taking place and parked my car to witness this event.
This was Thaipusam, an Indian festival on which Wikipedia has this to say:
"Thaipusam (Tamil: தைப்பூசம்) is a Hindu festival celebrated mostly by the Tamil community on the full moon in the Tamil month of Thai (Jan/Feb) ... Pusam refers to a star that is at its highest point during the festival. The festival commemorates both the birthday of Lord Murugan (also Subramaniam), the youngest son of Shiva and Parvati, and the occasion when Parvati gave Murugan a vel (lance) so he could vanquish the evil demon Soorapadman.
Devotees prepare for the celebration by cleansing themselves through prayer and fasting. Kavadi-bearers have to perform elaborate ceremonies at the time of assuming the kavadi and at the time of offering it to Lord Murugan. The kavadi-bearer observes celibacy and take only pure, Satvik food, once a day, while continuously thinking of God.
On the day of the festival, devotees will shave their heads and undertake a pilgrimage along a set route while engaging in various acts of devotion, notably carrying various types of kavadi (burdens). At its simplest this may entail carrying a pot of milk, but mortification of the flesh by piercing the skin, tongue or cheeks with vel skewers is also common.
The simplest kavadi is a semi circular decorated canopy supported by a wooden rod that is carried on the shoulders to the temple. In addition, some have a little spear through their tongue, or a spear through the cheeks. The spear pierced through his tongue or cheeks reminds him constantly of Lord Murugan. It also prevents him from speaking and gives great power of endurance. Other types of kavadi involve hooks stuck into the back and either pulled by another walking behind or being hung from a decorated bullock cart or more recently a tractor, with the point of incisions of the hooks varying the level of pain. The greater the pain the more god-earned merit."
This was a noisy pilgrimage. Each kavadi-bearer was surrounded by a group of people (family and friends?) cheering him on, chanting and beating drums. The ones in front of him were walking backwards, carrying the script for their chants and addressing themselves to him.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
The first day of Chinese New Year in Singapore
The remarkably pleasant balmy weather we experienced in Singapore over the last two weeks turned around yesterday. This morning, looking through the window, I can almost see the humidity hanging in the air under a heavy cover of dark clouds. I decide to go for a walk, curious to see whether I can experience again the eerie feeling of Singapore as a ghost town on Chinese New Year.
In the basement of the Paragon shopping mall, a few stores are open, even though it is only 9AM. Starbucks, da Paolo, Orange Julius. Breadtalk is not open for business, but the bakers are at work in the open kitchen. I ask and learn that the store will open at 11. Installed in a deep armchair at Starbucks with a latte and croissant, I observe the going-ons.
A couple of girls open the doors of the Guardian pharmacy. The lights around the metallic and transparent plastic shutters of Paragon supermarket have just lit up. Inside, staff are getting the displays ready. This means that the store will open just a bit later than usual.
Things have changed. My recollection is that even food stores were closed on Chinese New Year, but it appears that they have just a short reprieve in the life of this busy shopping mecca. They closed at 4-5PM yesterday, earlier than usual on the eve of the New Year, but they will open just a bit later than usual today.
Upstairs, the designer stores, of course, are all closed. It is rare to see this mall empty, with only a few isolated people walking around.
No surprise either on Orchard Road: a few passers-by, very little car traffic. A troop of traditional Chinese percussionists is doing its rounds; it is at the Meritus Mandarin Hotel and will go soon to the Park Hotel across the road, where I saw such a group two years ago. During the dragon dance, the musicians’ purpose in this purely rhythmic exercise seems to be to make as much noise as possible with their drums, bells and cymbals, while dancers hidden under the dragon’s body and long tail dance frenetically in front of hotel guests and passers-by.
Around this time every year you see these troops criss-crossing town on flat bed trucks with their flags flying in the wind, going from performance to performance. They always exhibit energy and high spirits.
On my way back up the hill to my apartment, I hear the noise of another troop performing at the York Hotel. It is a lion dance this time, with a man making lions jump on a stool on the same noisy background.
In the basement of the Paragon shopping mall, a few stores are open, even though it is only 9AM. Starbucks, da Paolo, Orange Julius. Breadtalk is not open for business, but the bakers are at work in the open kitchen. I ask and learn that the store will open at 11. Installed in a deep armchair at Starbucks with a latte and croissant, I observe the going-ons.
A couple of girls open the doors of the Guardian pharmacy. The lights around the metallic and transparent plastic shutters of Paragon supermarket have just lit up. Inside, staff are getting the displays ready. This means that the store will open just a bit later than usual.
Things have changed. My recollection is that even food stores were closed on Chinese New Year, but it appears that they have just a short reprieve in the life of this busy shopping mecca. They closed at 4-5PM yesterday, earlier than usual on the eve of the New Year, but they will open just a bit later than usual today.
Upstairs, the designer stores, of course, are all closed. It is rare to see this mall empty, with only a few isolated people walking around. No surprise either on Orchard Road: a few passers-by, very little car traffic. A troop of traditional Chinese percussionists is doing its rounds; it is at the Meritus Mandarin Hotel and will go soon to the Park Hotel across the road, where I saw such a group two years ago. During the dragon dance, the musicians’ purpose in this purely rhythmic exercise seems to be to make as much noise as possible with their drums, bells and cymbals, while dancers hidden under the dragon’s body and long tail dance frenetically in front of hotel guests and passers-by.
Around this time every year you see these troops criss-crossing town on flat bed trucks with their flags flying in the wind, going from performance to performance. They always exhibit energy and high spirits.
On my way back up the hill to my apartment, I hear the noise of another troop performing at the York Hotel. It is a lion dance this time, with a man making lions jump on a stool on the same noisy background.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
New York City - January 5, 2009
It was a not-so-cold winter day, perfect for a walk around the reservoir in Central Park. The light on that waning afternoon would have inspired a poet, and I wish I were one. Words would fail me ... but my camera did not.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Borobudur
Yesterday was a different story. My visit to Borobudur was blessed with gorgeous weather.
It was a glorious sight to see, from the top of this colossal Buddhist temple built between 750 and 850 AD, the sun rise on furious Mount Merapi (an active volcano constantly spewing sulphurous fumes) and its tamer brother Mount Merbabu (which means hare-lip according to my guide).
A rainy day in Yogyakarta
I was supposed to have a 10 hour tour of the Dieng Plateau in Central Java today, and my guide was promptly here at 6 AM to pick me up. But it was raining abundantly and it looked as if the sky had enough rain in it that it would probably take the whole day to unload it. We both agreed that it was best to cancel the trip as this weather would hide the beautiful landscape of terraced rice fields and make rather unpleasant the stops to visit the ancient Hindu temples on the tour.
So, here I am, trapped by rain at the Hyatt Regency Hotel. After an early breakfast, the prospect of spending the day in the Regency Club lounge is not altogether unpleasant, as it will give me time to read Popper and Russell and reflect.
The well-lit and comfortable surroundings of the lounge and the landscape through the large window facing me make an ideal backdrop for my meditations. I can see golf players undeterred by the rain ambling across the gently undulating green fairways interspersed with graceful palm trees. Female caddies, covered head to foot in ponchos, hold umbrellas and pull the bags of clubs on wheeled carts.
The woman sitting at a table nearby does not however appear to react to this soothing atmosphere in the same manner. Wiry and intense, she nervously picks food in her plate with one hand, and continually fumbles with the other on her iPod, probably jumping from one tune to another, not having the patience to listen to any single one to its end. Not for her the joys of rambling idle thoughts …
I find much to agree with in Russell's Why I am not a Christian, a collection of essays written from the late 1890s to the 1950s and re-published together in 1956. Russell was a rationalist through and through and his attack of religion is devastating (for people guided by reason) and witty. These writings must have inspired Richard Dawkins'God Delusion, a much more recent similar attack. Of course these attacks will not convince many believers to change their convictions, since, as Russell points out, "it would seem that the three human impulses embodied in religion are fear [fear of death in particular], conceit and hatred". Reason is hard put to prevail against such passions.
Russell's wit is manifest. Here is, as an example, the first paragraph of an essay first published in 1930 (Has Religion Made Useful Contributions to Civilisation?)
My own view on religion is that of Lucretius. I regard it as a disease born of fear and as a source of untold misery to the human race. I cannot, however, deny that it has made some contributions to civilisation. It helped in early days to fix the calendar, and it caused Egyptian priests to chronicle eclipses with such care that in time they became able to predict them. These two services I am prepared to acknowledge, but I do not know of any others.
I do find that Russell, although keenly aware of the strength of the human impulses embodied in religion, was perhaps too optimistic about reason's ability to win against them, for he concludes this essay with the following sentence: "It is possible that mankind is on the threshold of a golden age; but, if so, it will be necessary first to slay the dragon that guards the door, and this dragon is religion." The first part of the sentence (the possibility of mankind being at the threshold of a golden age) shows Russell's optimism, rooted in the progress of science and industry and the impact it should have on education and the provision of resources sufficient to ensure "tolerable subsistence for everybody". The last part shows that he saw the strength of the perceived enemy of progress, religion, since he describes it as a "dragon".
It is easy to see, with hindsight, how misplaced that optimism was, expressed as it was in 1930, when mankind, far from being on the threshold of a golden age, was about to enter a very dark period of wars and unspeakable atrocities during which freedom nearly succumbed to the threats of fascism and communism. And we could perhaps say that Russell was choosing the wrong enemy when he saw religion as the dragon to slay. This would be, however, a superficial analysis, for a strong case can be made that fascism and communism were fundamentally new religions born as reactions against the progress of reason.
This case is powerfully made by Popper in the second volume of The Open Society and its Enemies, published in 1945. I will quote the first paragraph of the next to last chapter, which eloquently summarizes Popper's analysis.
Marx was a rationalist. With Socrates, and with Kant, he believed in human reason as the basis of the unity of mankind. But his doctrine that our opinions are determined by class interest hastened the decline of this belief. Like Hegel's doctrine that our ideas are determined by national interests and traditions, Marx's doctrine tended to undermine the rationalist belief in reason. Thus threatened both from the right and from the left, a rationalist attitude to social and economic questions could hardly resist when historicist prophecy and oracular irrationalism made a frontal attack on it. This is why the conflict between rationalism and irrationalism has become the most important intellectual, and perhaps even moral, issue of our time.
Socialism and Communism were seen as harbingers of progress towards economic justice, and the hope, nay, the conviction, that they were an inescapable historical necessity, was shattered by the disillusionment of seeing these movements degenerate in horrible totalitarian regimes responsible for the misery and death of millions. As a result, many in the West, particularly in the United States, concluded that reason (which can mistakenly be perceived, at least until one reads Popper, as the progenitor of the socialist and communist movements) cannot be the sole answer to man's quest for truth and happiness, and they turned with renewed fervor towards the traditional religions. Russell's book is a useful reminder that disillusionment with reason is not a reason to find refuge in nonsensical religious dogmas.
According to Marx, Communism was to be the ineluctable victory of the working class and the end of history. After the collapse of the communist regimes in the USSR and Eastern Europe, some thought that we had attained a different end of history and that the Western liberal views and capitalism (not the unrestrained capitalism of the 19th century, whose inhumanity, as Popper points out, rightfully roused Marx's indignation, but a capitalism tempered by state intervention) had won the battle for freedom and the open society. There were reasons for thinkers such as Francis Fukuyama to hold such views, as China, after 40 years of communist rule, was not yet an economic and political great power and Muslim fundamentalism was not yet perceived as an existential threat.
China's success, which may rekindle belief in the new religion of Marxism, and the Islamo-fascist movements sponsored by Iran and others are threats to the Western liberal democracies, and urgent reasons to read again the works of Karl Popper and Bertrand Russell, those two great 20th century rationalist philosophers.
Both thinkers help us to understand that there is no substitute to reason to improve the lot of mankind and that, ultimately, Russell was not far off the mark when he saw religion as the dragon to slay, in its old and new manifestations.
So, here I am, trapped by rain at the Hyatt Regency Hotel. After an early breakfast, the prospect of spending the day in the Regency Club lounge is not altogether unpleasant, as it will give me time to read Popper and Russell and reflect.
The well-lit and comfortable surroundings of the lounge and the landscape through the large window facing me make an ideal backdrop for my meditations. I can see golf players undeterred by the rain ambling across the gently undulating green fairways interspersed with graceful palm trees. Female caddies, covered head to foot in ponchos, hold umbrellas and pull the bags of clubs on wheeled carts.
The woman sitting at a table nearby does not however appear to react to this soothing atmosphere in the same manner. Wiry and intense, she nervously picks food in her plate with one hand, and continually fumbles with the other on her iPod, probably jumping from one tune to another, not having the patience to listen to any single one to its end. Not for her the joys of rambling idle thoughts …
I find much to agree with in Russell's Why I am not a Christian, a collection of essays written from the late 1890s to the 1950s and re-published together in 1956. Russell was a rationalist through and through and his attack of religion is devastating (for people guided by reason) and witty. These writings must have inspired Richard Dawkins'God Delusion, a much more recent similar attack. Of course these attacks will not convince many believers to change their convictions, since, as Russell points out, "it would seem that the three human impulses embodied in religion are fear [fear of death in particular], conceit and hatred". Reason is hard put to prevail against such passions.
Russell's wit is manifest. Here is, as an example, the first paragraph of an essay first published in 1930 (Has Religion Made Useful Contributions to Civilisation?)
My own view on religion is that of Lucretius. I regard it as a disease born of fear and as a source of untold misery to the human race. I cannot, however, deny that it has made some contributions to civilisation. It helped in early days to fix the calendar, and it caused Egyptian priests to chronicle eclipses with such care that in time they became able to predict them. These two services I am prepared to acknowledge, but I do not know of any others.
I do find that Russell, although keenly aware of the strength of the human impulses embodied in religion, was perhaps too optimistic about reason's ability to win against them, for he concludes this essay with the following sentence: "It is possible that mankind is on the threshold of a golden age; but, if so, it will be necessary first to slay the dragon that guards the door, and this dragon is religion." The first part of the sentence (the possibility of mankind being at the threshold of a golden age) shows Russell's optimism, rooted in the progress of science and industry and the impact it should have on education and the provision of resources sufficient to ensure "tolerable subsistence for everybody". The last part shows that he saw the strength of the perceived enemy of progress, religion, since he describes it as a "dragon".
It is easy to see, with hindsight, how misplaced that optimism was, expressed as it was in 1930, when mankind, far from being on the threshold of a golden age, was about to enter a very dark period of wars and unspeakable atrocities during which freedom nearly succumbed to the threats of fascism and communism. And we could perhaps say that Russell was choosing the wrong enemy when he saw religion as the dragon to slay. This would be, however, a superficial analysis, for a strong case can be made that fascism and communism were fundamentally new religions born as reactions against the progress of reason.
This case is powerfully made by Popper in the second volume of The Open Society and its Enemies, published in 1945. I will quote the first paragraph of the next to last chapter, which eloquently summarizes Popper's analysis.
Marx was a rationalist. With Socrates, and with Kant, he believed in human reason as the basis of the unity of mankind. But his doctrine that our opinions are determined by class interest hastened the decline of this belief. Like Hegel's doctrine that our ideas are determined by national interests and traditions, Marx's doctrine tended to undermine the rationalist belief in reason. Thus threatened both from the right and from the left, a rationalist attitude to social and economic questions could hardly resist when historicist prophecy and oracular irrationalism made a frontal attack on it. This is why the conflict between rationalism and irrationalism has become the most important intellectual, and perhaps even moral, issue of our time.
Socialism and Communism were seen as harbingers of progress towards economic justice, and the hope, nay, the conviction, that they were an inescapable historical necessity, was shattered by the disillusionment of seeing these movements degenerate in horrible totalitarian regimes responsible for the misery and death of millions. As a result, many in the West, particularly in the United States, concluded that reason (which can mistakenly be perceived, at least until one reads Popper, as the progenitor of the socialist and communist movements) cannot be the sole answer to man's quest for truth and happiness, and they turned with renewed fervor towards the traditional religions. Russell's book is a useful reminder that disillusionment with reason is not a reason to find refuge in nonsensical religious dogmas.
According to Marx, Communism was to be the ineluctable victory of the working class and the end of history. After the collapse of the communist regimes in the USSR and Eastern Europe, some thought that we had attained a different end of history and that the Western liberal views and capitalism (not the unrestrained capitalism of the 19th century, whose inhumanity, as Popper points out, rightfully roused Marx's indignation, but a capitalism tempered by state intervention) had won the battle for freedom and the open society. There were reasons for thinkers such as Francis Fukuyama to hold such views, as China, after 40 years of communist rule, was not yet an economic and political great power and Muslim fundamentalism was not yet perceived as an existential threat.
China's success, which may rekindle belief in the new religion of Marxism, and the Islamo-fascist movements sponsored by Iran and others are threats to the Western liberal democracies, and urgent reasons to read again the works of Karl Popper and Bertrand Russell, those two great 20th century rationalist philosophers.
Both thinkers help us to understand that there is no substitute to reason to improve the lot of mankind and that, ultimately, Russell was not far off the mark when he saw religion as the dragon to slay, in its old and new manifestations.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Muallaf
One movie only was showing at the Picturehouse yesterday ... Muallaf.
"What can this possibly be?" I asked myself. Google ... Yahoo movies ... et voila: "Muallaf tells the story of two Malay sisters, 20 year old Rohani (Sharifah Amani) and 14 year old Rohana (Sharifah Aleysha) who are on the run from their wealthy, abusive father. Finding refuge in a small town, they meet Robert Ng (Brian Yap), a 30 year old Catholic school teacher who finds himself irresistibly drawn to the sisters and their extraordinary courage. This relationship inevitably forces Robert to confront a haunting memory of his own troubled childhood."
It sounded interesting. I decided to go ... and I was immensely rewarded. I will not tell more about the movie's plot than what is said in the teaser from Yahoo Movies. The movie is by Yasmin Ahmad, a Malaysian film director and writer. Obviously made on a small budget, it tells a simple story of relationships between parents and children, believers and non-believers.
Religion, the love of books, enquiring minds, good and evil, gentleness and brutality, joy and sadness, love, respect for and rebellion against parents, all these intersect and blend in this wonderful story told on the background of great music, in which silences and looks tell as much as words.
A rewarding time on a Saturday evening, delighting in a movie which, with a deftly used sense of humour providing comic relief, makes you feel and think about the depth and complexity of ordinary human relationships.
"What can this possibly be?" I asked myself. Google ... Yahoo movies ... et voila: "Muallaf tells the story of two Malay sisters, 20 year old Rohani (Sharifah Amani) and 14 year old Rohana (Sharifah Aleysha) who are on the run from their wealthy, abusive father. Finding refuge in a small town, they meet Robert Ng (Brian Yap), a 30 year old Catholic school teacher who finds himself irresistibly drawn to the sisters and their extraordinary courage. This relationship inevitably forces Robert to confront a haunting memory of his own troubled childhood."
It sounded interesting. I decided to go ... and I was immensely rewarded. I will not tell more about the movie's plot than what is said in the teaser from Yahoo Movies. The movie is by Yasmin Ahmad, a Malaysian film director and writer. Obviously made on a small budget, it tells a simple story of relationships between parents and children, believers and non-believers.
Religion, the love of books, enquiring minds, good and evil, gentleness and brutality, joy and sadness, love, respect for and rebellion against parents, all these intersect and blend in this wonderful story told on the background of great music, in which silences and looks tell as much as words.
A rewarding time on a Saturday evening, delighting in a movie which, with a deftly used sense of humour providing comic relief, makes you feel and think about the depth and complexity of ordinary human relationships.
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