Away in a Manger

The Christmas scene at Shantivanam is a masterpiece of primitive art.

And before I write any more, you must understand that I am not sneering or belittling the style and execution of the garden scene: I just want to share with you the cultural messages and innuendos of this amazing creation.

It was kept secret till Christmas morning, being concealed behind a row of iron roofing panels while it was being built. Then I went this (Christmas) morning and just stood and tried to take it all in.

The giant Magi stroll down the centre of the highway

The scenario itself is about 18ft wide and 10ft deep, landscaped to represent countryside with the outbuilding that houses the Holy Family centrally positioned, and served by a road that traverses the whole scene. This feature is a proper road: not a track. It is black to simulate tarmac and it has white-painted traffic markings down the centre. It looks like Scalextric. To either side of this highway, there are telegraph poles carrying phone lines. 

Jesus was born as a toddler

The plaster statues of the various characters are quite disproportionate to the scene, towering over the buildings and trees like infiltrators from Gulliver’s Travels. The baby Jesus has the features of a 5-year-old and is appropriately dressed for a five-year-old in the 50s; appropriate for the child's age but not for the era – not a swaddling cloth in sight! The figures are nonetheless classic representations, with the Magi in oriental robes and the shepherds portrayed in simple tunics, carrying crooks.

Alas, the balloons died young

The trees around the model are decked out, - some with party balloons and streamers, and others with flashing coloured lights. 

The flashing lights worked overtime yesterday, but the balloons have shrivelled away to their empty size, and no one seems to want to try and reflate them.

The disco-ball has been working overtime

High over the scene is a disco ball that revolves and paints ribbons of colour swirling constantly across the ground and around the whole area.

Imagine for a moment, some natural disaster that could preserve this just as the buildings in Pompeii were preserved after the volcanic eruption. Imagine archaeologists in a millennium or so, trying to piece together the social and cultural implications of the scene and the detail as they scratch their heads at the mystery of the peasant population, the illustrious Magi, the road markings and the telegraph poles.

Alternatively, be a little more generous, and try to understand the local Christians who painted the white lines, and installed the disco ball and the disproportionately giant-sized characters, lovingly wanting to give the Holy Family the best that India can offer.

The important thing is that the people love it. They love the brash size and bright colours; they love the tinsel and the flashing lights. It’s theirs’s; it’s not the slick nativity scene in the big city, it’s their own tribute to their beliefs, and it commemorates their Christmas celebrations.

And now, I move on. Tomorrow evening (29^th) I take the night train to Ernakulam (just south of Cochin/Kochi) for another stint at Mattindia. I look forward to the fact that it will be slightly more comfortable than here at the ashram, with a comparatively reliable Wi-fi service. But not many people come to an ashram to research on the internet and write lengthily on a computer, so visitors like me are not the norm. I have done a lot of planning for my next book while I have been here, and I now look forward to putting a bit more flesh on the bones. 

Meanwhile the massage team at Mattindia will be doing their darnedest to get a bit more flesh off my bones !

And I shall squeal, gasp and cry out.

And the new arrivals will be horrified and wonder what they are in for.