Friday 24 October 2014

Object Number 2: the Kerala lock

Brass lock in the Portuguese Museum
The Kerala lock embodies man of the things I find most attractive about the country. There is a tradition of fine craftsmanship and a respect and appreciation of it that stretches to the current day.
The massive teak doors of the houses were secured by these ornate brass or iron locks, and they can still be bought today and are often used in conjunction with a most unattractive padlock.

Along with the traditional design comes a "traditional" story. The lock embodies symbols of all the main religions of Kerala, and is therefore representative of the inclusive and tolerant way in which the people live. The trident of Shiva, the seven menorah of the Jewish faith, the crescent of the Muslims and the cross of the Christians (look hard), all make their appearance in this lock.

This would be a wonderful thing if all manchithrathazhu locks were the same. In fact, even the very old ones differ condiderably in their design and very often elements are missing.

However, I have chosen the lock as one of my objects as it does contain aspects of the religious diversity which makes Kerala for me such a fascinating and complicated place. I also love a good story.

For some wonderful, modern designs, go to http://www.keralahousedesigns.com/2009/08/manichithrathazhu-doors.html

Thursday 23 October 2014

History through objects

I have been enjoying Neil MacGregor's programmes about the history of Germany through a series of objects selected for a new exhibition. (http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b04dwckb)

It got me thinking about what I would choose as representative of the periods and cultures of Kerala. How do you avoid the magpie-like selection of shiny objects? Many of the lists which already exist choose items of cultural importance, like the Aranmula mirrors which are made of bell metal, and which take days of polishing, or items collected from traditional dance forms like Kathakali. Certainly, some of these things would be important and representative, but they did not necessarily mark important changes in, or description of, the way in which the people lived, which is really what history is about.

How many should there be? I could probably manage more than 10, but fifty might be beyond me. So, I have set myself the task and designate the Bellarmine jar in my last post as item number one, even though it is chronologically adrift.




Friday 17 October 2014

The clue of the Bellarmine jar


In the humid chaos of Fort Kochi it is difficult to get a feeling of the long history of the city. There are clues in the architecture and the remains of the wharves and boatyards, and the inlet from the sea still carries its share of traditional fishing boats. Staying at the Fort House hotel I was brought up short by a pot sitting in a case which displayed an eclectic mix of items. These, apparently, were for sale on behalf of a widow who lived in the town.

My first reaction was that I was looking at a reproduction or forgery, but then I realised that I had never known the pot in question to be reproduced because it was a curiosity about which little was known. It was a Bellarmine jug, about 30cm tall and in near-perfect condition.

This was undoubtedly a survivor of the Dutch trade with India in the 17th Century. The Dutch dominated the Malabar Coast from 1661, when they took it from the Portuguese, until 1795 when the British made great inroads into the Indian trade routes. The pots, with their bearded faces and decorative stomachs were made for about two hundred years, originating in Germany, but sometimes exported via the Netherlands, where they were very popular. They gained their nickname after Cardinal Robert Bellarmine, scourge of protestants and inquisitor, and as they were used extensively for beer, their name was not a compliment to the austere Cardinal. Drinkers delighted in smashing the face off the pot.

Later they were sometimes used as "Witch Bottles", containing animal remains and arcane substances and buried somewhere about the house for protection, or as a curse. I think it is a shame that the jolly beer flagon has been appropriated by the sinister followers of witchcraft, as I have always been fond of the primitive feel of these stoneware pots and their honest salt glazes.

I was very tempted to buy the jug, which was on sale for a modest amount. I looked up the price on a couple of antiques sites and told the hotel what they had, but could not see myself hefting a heavy, antique pot onto the plane home. It is something I regret now, as I would have liked to have one of the rare clues of Fort Kochi's past.

There is a very interesting article on Bellarmines here:
http://cka.moon-demon.co.uk/KAR007/KAR007_Bellarmine.htm

Monday 13 October 2014

More reader feedback- a map.

Another suggestion from my reader- have I got more than one? was that I included a map of my travels. I have done this by means of a page, rather than a post so that it is always there. I have also included a map of the backwaters, painfully drawn from a variety of sources before such a thing was available in India. How things have moved on!

Monday 6 October 2014

Reader feedback

I wait for reader feedback with trepidation. Although most has been very nice and positive I had a surprise last week when a friend called me to take issue with something I had said. I had expected historical disagreement, the pointing out of terrible errors and abuse, but not the point he made. On page 90 I had said, after looking for the lost railway which transported tea from Munnar:

"Processed tea went up to Top Station on a monorail system, built in 1902 and replaced by a 24 inch gauge railway in 1908. We might have arrived on the west coast, but by the time that the crop had developed into a significant export, most of it went via Madras, on the east.
The tea went up to Mattapetty and on to Top Station before taking the rope-way back to Kottakudi and to Bottom Station, in Tamil Nadu. From there it was transported to various places in India for shipment and processing. It is almost impossible to trace the railway now as it followed the course of the road, but there are remnants of the ropeway system, most recorded by Jimmy Jose on  the informative website at
http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Heritage/Kundala .

Even I nearly turned into a railway buff trying to pick out the last vestiges of this long-lost line in a changed landscape, the difficulties and rough terrain lending the endeavour a glamour I didn’t feel when contemplating the Settle to Carlisle line, for instance."

I would like to record my heartfelt apologies to one of the most interesting, spectacular and historic railways in the UK.

There is still a sneaking feeling that the vertiginous cliffs and viaducts of the railways in the Western Ghats are more romantic and engaging than the lonely line across the moors, but as I now have to admit that I have never been on the Settle to Carlisle Railway, perhaps I am in error.

This web page shows pictures of the lost Kundala Valley Railway.
http://www.irfca.org/gallery/Heritage/Kundala/

The Nilgiri Hill Railway to Ooty shows what the line might have been like today.




Wednesday 1 October 2014

Elephant ivory out of Muziris

Evidence for the existence of Muziris is sparse but well-documented in a few fragments remaining from the time. As well as the Periplus, the sailors' notebook which numbered Muziris amongst a number of ports, the Muziris Papyrus documents a cargo from India belonging to an Alexandrian merchant. It originates from the second century CE.
The document lists pepper and spices traded out of Muziris on board a Roman merchant ship called the Hermapollon. A valuation is given of three-quarters of the cargo which fits well with the list in the Periplus of the commodities which were exported from the city.
A portion of the cargo was made up of ivory, both low-quality trimmings taken to reduce the weight of the tusks of fighting elephants, and high quality, complete tusks, often taken from elephants which had died in captivity. At this time, Africa was not a significant source of ivory, but Pliny the elder states that by his time the male Indian elephant is often born with very small tusks, or none at all. This is true today, a fact often put down to the poaching of the ivory-bearing tuskers from the forests, but it seems that the elephants of the south were already protecting themselves by genetically reducing their ivory-bearing capabilities!


Mamalapuramn Tamil Nadu



It is likely that the ivory shipped in the Hermapollon was local, the Chera kings controlling the rich forests of the Western Ghats, where the elephant thrived. The indigenous forest-dwellers hunted elephants for their meat and their ivory, which made its way to Muziris.
The trade in ivory is a complex one, and by the time of the Periplus in the 9th Century Africa had overtaken India as a source of fine-quality tusks. The African elephant has larger tusks than the Indian, although smaller tusks were often shipped from animals which had been killed to eat or in the constant struggle against crop raiding.
The trade in ivory continues in spite of its ban under the CITES convention of 1989. There are concerns that the population of elephants in some areas is drastically skewed towards female herds where the males are lacking the socialisation necessary to integrate them into the sophisticated "family" structures.

Today it is rare to see a wild elephant with large tusks. Older animals, working in temples, do often have magnificent tusks but these are getting rarer as the elephants die off.