The community of the Chettiars community in Tamil Nadu South India is unique. But not without some similarity elsewhere: Think of the uber-wealthy of New York in the late 1800’s who built summer palaces in Newport, Rhode Island, for their families. The men continued working in the city while the women and children enjoyed a more relaxed way of life a bit apart. At a parallel time, the traders and bankers of the Chettiars also made vast fortunes in the big commercial centers in India, Burma and Singapore and built huge mansions in their home villages for their extended families from the late 19th to early 20th centuries. But then the depression, the Japanese military expansion and WWII changed their fortunes so they could not afford the upkeep of their large properties and their descendants moved out to other cities in India for their livelihood, leaving behind the remains of another time. A few of these old homes have been remodeled into hotels, like the magnificent Visalam where we stayed for a few days, many others are left barely standing, maintained by caretakers and used only for rare large family events when the dispersed community returns to celebrate their past heritage.
Our group rose early in the morning and bicycled around the local village at sunrise, a challenge for me as it has been about 25 years since I last rode a bicycle, visiting a rural temple and experiencing the life of the area. A milkman delivering milk, pouring it out of stainless steel containers into the buyers jars, early morning prayers, and cows that were startled and jumped in front of my bicycle causing me to wobble. We road past one newly painted temple in the golden new light and visited a larger local temple peaceful and serene with a devotee already there for worship.
We stopped and visited one of the old houses where our guide knew the ancient caretakers, walking through the magnificent halls with tall teak columns. Past the main reception room and two long courtyards is the back area where is found the kitchen and washrooms, so that these homes spread from entrance on one street to exit on the street behind. We were told the many side rooms were only used for storage of goods, not daily living, with the occupants sleeping on the raised daises around the open courtyards. It is a group of villages that are both ghost towns of an earlier era and very much alive with the present farmers and a few storekeepers. I asked the manager of our hotel who was our guide for the morning and who was raised in the area whether there was resentment between the locals and the many wealthy distant landlords but he chose not to reply.
We were told it was possible for someone in kitchen to see who entered the front door.
Tile making is a major industry here due to the rich soil and clay of the area and many new family industries have sprung up. We visited one where the older owner has been making these special tiles, using clay sand and cement, for his whole life, with his children doing well in far-off distant places. But for him it is a profession he is both proud of and comfortable with.
Markets are always a highlight for me and the weekly market among these Chettinad villages was no exception. What distinguished it for me were the number of cows that were wandering around, grabbing at some of the produce, with angry stall sellers trying to swat them away with sticks, while there sacred nemesis calmly munched from one delicious pile of vegetables to another.
And I get the reward of all the newly picked produce.
