Festival!

A jalebi vendor at the Kallingal's Nercha. Jalebi are little swirls of wheat flour deep-fried and doused in molasses. They are like handheld funnel-cakes covered in maple syrup. Not for the faint of the heart.





I woke up this morning feeling like I had a hangover. My head was throbbing, my throat dry, and my eyes felt weighed down by sandbags. Yet, I had not touched a drink the previous night. I had, however, been to the Kallingal's Nercha, a local street festival hosted along a narrow avenue one block from our apartment. And Jenna and I had been forced to stay up through the racket of celebretory drums and fireworks that went until three in the morning.




Held over the previous two days and nights, the Nercha commemorated the earthly deeds of a Sufi saint known in Tirur as Quni Shaheed, who is buried about one mile from where we live. Though it has a religious motivation, the fesitival is a chance for people to debauch themselves as much as their strict Muslim upbringins will allow them. That means eating fried food and sweets, staying up late, smoking cigarettes, dancing and yelling in the street, wasting money on cheap toys and jewelry, and (if the smells wafting from the groups of perambulating men is any indication) taking surreptitious pulls of liquor.




Suffice to say, the Nercha is a big deal for people who live around here. Our students asked us constantly in the week leading up to the festival whether we were going. And our neighbors warned us about the noise that would keep us up until the early hours of the morning.





Bands roved around the neighborhood, stopping at random houses to play Malayalam songs. The bands' membership usually consisted of a few trumpets, a handful of drummers, and three or four clarinets. The instruments' combined effects were about as subtle as a ballpeen hammer crashing down on your temple. Parades of elephants were also a common sight and the avoidance of their giant feces a constant worry when walking around the festival.






One of many stands that lined the street during the Nercha. Jenna and I did not have any need for toy cars or plastic baby dolls. But many other people did.









A group of young men who walked around serenading anyone who would listen with a racket of drums and cymbals. They were very enthusiastic about their task.




A few guys I went to the Nercha with on Thursday night (the final night of the festival). From left: Ashid, me, Rafi, Anshawd.

The Nercha also had a carnival with a Ferris Wheel that turned so fast that the force of inertia was the only thing keeping passangers inside.