Photopost: Temple Rededication

On Sunday I wrote about the local Hindu temple's kumbhabhishekam, or rededication; later that morning we attended the conclusion of the four-day ceremony. I took loads of photos, and I have to tell you, I wasn't the only one, although most people were snapping away on cell phones.

The entrance to the temple grounds, coming from the parking lot next door. The grey object in the center is the head of Ganesh; he is the remover of obstacles and the lord of beginnings.

The entrance to the tent outside the temple, where there were pujas to purify and revivify the temple and its contents going on for days. Up until a certain point, the temple was completely closed.



This was a holy occasion, and thus, a shoeless affair.



I don't know what this pole's purpose is, but it's new. At the end of the ceremony, a priest came out and put things on its base, but by the time I got up to it, all I saw was a small bowl with a bit of water. People were dipping their fingers in it and dabbing their foreheads and throats.



There are seven of these golden spikes; they're new, too, and according to a priest we flagged down, they draw divine energy into the temple.



This lady is holding a kumbha (vessel), that's wrapped with thread. A group of people (who I believe paid for the privilege) were allowed to take the vessels, which were partially filled with holy water, and pour their contents on the main altar. This is known as abhishekam, or sprinkling, and it can also be done with milk, ghee, oil or milk curds. The garlands on the door behind her are made of fresh flowers.



The only place in St. Louis I've ever been able to lose my husband in a crowd.



And then the helicopter appeared, carrying one of the temple's priests. He was flown around the various parts of the temple so he could sprinkle holy water and rice on the building. Ordinarily, this is achieved with ladders and internal staircases, but the fire codes prevent this.







Then he did the same to the crowd in front of the temple; it was windy and gritty and joyous.

Photopost: Back to School, in India

I snapped this shot of schoolgirls outside Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu, in March 2008.

Photopost: Pere Lachaise, summer 1990

Fresh out of college, practically no money, wandering around a beautiful cemetary in an amazing city with an older brother.

I can't recommend it enough.

Photopost: South City Grocery Store

I used to live in the area of South St. Louis commonly known as "Little Bosnia," in a house that was built in the early '20s. When I moved in, in 1999, the neighborhood was a mix of families that had been there forever, entry-level homeowners like me, and lots and lots of Bosnian, African and South American immigrants.

One of the wonderful consequences of that population mix was a plethora of international food items in the most affordable grocery store. It started out as a single shelf of unroasted coffee and tea cakes, way back in the dairy section. Soon there was a stand of freshly baked Bosnian bread nearby. These days, it's a huge section of its own, with juices, preserved vegetables, dessert mixes and prayer candles.

I was there the other day, doing research for a blog post for work, and couldn't resist the opportunity to take photos of all that awesome stuff. I'm pretty sure several old ladies thought I was nuts, which made me laugh, and I'm sure my giggling cemented their impression of my mental imbalance.

Enjoy.

Photopost: Trans-Siberian Express

Roughly 20 years ago, my older brother Sam (not his real name) convinced me that going walkabout in Europe and Asia right after graduation would be just the thing to do. As usual, he was right.

These photos were taken by him during his journey west on the Trans-Siberian Express to meet me in Germany (he had just spent a year studying in Nanjing). I myself took that same train back east with him a few weeks later, and took these photos of his photos this morning.

Enjoy.

Photopost: Parisian Chocolate Wrapper

In May, a friend went to Paris and kindly brought me back two kinds of chocolate. The dark niblets went straight into my snack drawer and were gone within the space of a week. The milk medallion with the Eiffel Tower on one side and the Arc de Triomphe on the other went into the enormous bag I carry back and forth to work and was promptly forgotten until Bastille Day rolled around this week.

Good thing, too, because had I eaten it right away, I might have been so eager to get at the chocolate that I wouldn't have noticed how amazing the foil packaging is. Enjoy, mes amis!

Photopost: Indian Watermelons

When we were in India last year, I was cameraless and borrowed my father-in-law's (Naina's) digital jobbie, both because I am a lifelong photo-snapper, and I like to play tourist. Whenever we returned to the house, Naina would take the memory stick and run it down to the corner photo shop to have my shots printed. The first time this happened, I was really confused about his hurried departure, then delighted when he turned up a short time later, paper bag of prints proudly in hand.

A few days into this routine, it came to light that he and the photo shop guy had been discarding some of my street shots, thinking they must surely be mistakes since they were so mundane. I explained that I wanted to be able to show my friends and family all aspects of Indian life, and that street life holds all kinds of clues to a culture.

And that's part of the story of the photo above. The other part is that I was walking with my husband Mowgli (not his real name) near the stadium when we came across this stack of watermelons and baskets. I recall being in a hurry, hungry to see as much as possible that day -- it was one of our last chunks of free time. I still regret not going inside that shop to take shots of tropical fruit stacked into pyramids, and I still remember being impressed by the neatness, volume and variety I could see from the street.

I'm still hungry to see more of India, and next time around, I'll take my own camera, and take more time.