Durga Puja

Yesterday was the final night of Durga Puja. The night when Hindus take the large often life size effagies of Durga and cast them into the Ganges or what ever river may be near. I went with a group of trainees to the Hindu temple near the bazar to see the image of the great Goddess. It was busy as it always is near the bazar. A kind of manic shopping, swindling, place of news and trouble. I hate going to the bazar I am always exhausted by the end of it. We passed easily into the temple grounds. The guards did not even ask us our purpose or try to get money from us. Being white here gives you a certain privledge, a certain importance, a certain visibility. I have never been this important before. I wonder what it will be like to return home to being another anonymous face... Upon intering into the temple we were surrounded by masses of people but the temple "ushers" spoke enough English to tell us what to do. There were two lines formed one for the "gents" and one for the "ladies". We were pushed into the prospective lines. At that moment as we rounded the outside corner of the temple i could see the effigy of Durga just a ways down. There were theatrical lights pulsating on her. Flashing blue, and red and yellow. On either side of the lines there were dokons (shops) selling candies, incense, and other religious items. A man walked up to me and leaned over the ladies line and said to me " After Durga you will come to my office and take tea with me." I just smiled and wiggled further into the mass of Hindu women. I at 5 feet 4 inches stand almost a head taller than most of the women. Suddenly a man shouted "Let the foreigners to the front!!!" He said this in English and miraculously everyone seemed to understand. The people parted to either side and the Bhramins ushered us to the front. There I stood before Durga. Her 10 arms extended with deadly weapons. Her face calm in the confidence of a warriors skill. The Demons faces contorted with fear and anger as she triumphed over them and her deadly Tiger to the side crouched and fierce. The priests were giving her offerings, chanting and walking before her. The lights began to flash more quickly now and some one placed round sugar bisquits in my hand. They were blessed by the priests and are sacred to Durga. I wonder if I should eat them. As I am a germa phobe and the woman who handed them to me lookes and smells like she hasent had a bath in a week. I take a tiny nibble and this seems to satisfy the priest and the people. I ask if I can take a picture of the guady Durga and they say it is fine. This religion is a bit too comercial for me but I want to experience it none the less. Of course the mass of people, flashing lights, body smells... it is too much so me and the other Americans push our way out. I then find myself infront of the actual temple. The Durga Puja is being celebrated in all the temples as it is the main holiday but not necessarilly at the temples dedicated just to her. This temple is dedicated to Kali and the Bhramin invites us in. We take off our shoes. The temple is quiet. No one else is in there but the priests. I am again pushed to the front. This time in the small crowd of American trainees. There are two rooms, the anti-chamber we are in and the main temple room for Kali. There is a gate protecting Kali's space from us, but it does not protect us from her. She is on an alter with her garland of heads, her fierce weapons and her foot upon Lord Shivas chest. Offerings are around her. Her tounge is extended with the taste of blood. Her incense enters my body her words whisper in my ears. She sees me as I see her. In this holy place I can feel the Goddess around my body pressing on my skin. I close my eyes but I can only see her more clearly. I realize that I am swaying. The Bhramin is looking at me intently. I take a deep breath. I steady myself. There is more power in this quiet room than is out in the square with the mass of spectators. I bow my head to Kali. Acknowledge her and pay her homage in her temple. I press my hands together and say "Namaste" to the priest he also puts his hands together in prayer position. Once outside I am asaulted by the insanity that is Bangladesh. I have had enough religion this night. My fellow Peace Corps trainees and I exit the temple grounds. We are emediatly rushed in on my beggar children as we look for rickshaws to take us home. Just another day in the Desh......

M