The Birthday of Bede Griffiths

Celebrating a special person's birthday

Father Bede Griffiths, arrived in India as an Anglican priest from Sussex. In time he converted to the Roman Catholic tradition and led the ashram/monastery here at Shantivanam into the Benedictine community. For 25 years, from 1968 to his death here in 1993 he built up the community, and every year his birthday is celebrated here on December 17^th.

It was a happy day, treated as a Feast Day; so we all feasted in traditional manner. The diet is 100% basic vegetarian, and after a while the addition of so much as a biscuit creates a stir of excitement amongst the inmates, ( – I mean guests.) 

We sit on the floor or on low stools for all meals - and take turns serving

The birthday celebration started with the addition of savoury chilli doughnuts as an extra to the breakfast menu of steamed rice pancakes and coconut sauce; at lunch we had a number of additional vegetable dishes to accompany the rice pilaff, and after the evening meal, there was a special folklore performance.

Now, we’ve all been on a package holiday at some stage in our lives, and we’ve all been on a Folklore Evening, haven’t we? The courier ushers everyone into a coach to be whisked off to a remote hostelry in the mountains, where we all perch on plastic chairs for a seemingly endless display of twirls and shuffles to the accompaniment of an accordion and assorted tambourines, bells and maracas. It could be Portugal, it could be Croatia: it could be Tunisia. Wherever it may be, it’s the sort of entertainment that makes one long for Morris Dancing. . . . well, maybe not quite that, but one does wonder why countries attach such importance and pride to what are often little more than incomprehensible prancing !

Happily, the performance at the ashram was quite delightful. In this remote community, a couple of miles from the dusty village of Kalithulai (if you Google Maps, you’ll see it’s a pretty tiny sort of place,) we were to be entertained by students from the local Dance Academy.  They were a shy little group of girls, but they made a tremendous effort to deliver a good show, and they deserved our loud applause for the entertainment.  It was traditional, with all the neck-swivelling and strange postures we’ve seen in Bollywood movies (- you haven’t?. . . . well, you ought to – just for the experience!)

The troupe did well, though I have to confess I didn’t last the show. My sleep-apnoea is presenting problems since my sleep-machine burned out on Day 3 of my trip, and I just hope that my Darling Daughter manages to courier the replacement from the NHS in the UK without any further complication. Then all I have to worry about is Indian Customs clearance. At present I am trying to sleep propped up with extra pillows, and though I awake quite confident that I have slept well, I am then likely to drop off without notice at any time in the day. I fell asleep after the coffee-break this morning, right through lunch and woke wondering what day it was.

Now I fear I shall never get to sleep tonight and will spend my evening slapping mosquitos and seeing the little splat of blood that they stole from me. 

No, dear readers, I am not afraid of all those horrible tropical diseases; everyone here is a shining model of health, and I intend to stay robust in health. 

One thing you have to agree on -  I am nothing if not robust !