Peace and Chaos
Blog 4 – The Next Two Weeks
Lately, things appear to have settled into a slower rhythm – I’ve grown far more familiar with the city and, surprisingly, even the language. I’m now used to taking the ‘share’ autos to save money, drinking morning and afternoon chai, and even using the bathroom! Having wrapped up most of my responsibilities in the health division internship, I often find myself helping with random tasks and accompanying my colleagues on field trips (they don’t happen very often though, unfortunately).
We visited a rural village for a medical camp. Common medicines were brought and the doctor very briefly examined all the patients after the nurse determined blood pressure and weight. Resembling internal medicine offices I’ve shadowed in the US, it felt like most patients just came in to get their pain medication and get out, and there wasn’t any large emphasis on prevention.
All in all, it still is positive for such a rural village, where the nearest public health centre is a 15-20 minute drive, let alone the nearest hospital. Keeping track of the risk for diabetes and hypertension is important, but it didn’t feel like much was being done to improve lifestyle(although I do acknowledge that would require much more resources). I still would hope that health education could be combined with healthcare more efficiently, something that’s an important issue in the US as well.
Unrelated, but I also was able to visit a colleague’s house for their house warming ceremony, and got this fun picture :}
I often find myself hit with a sense of boredom in the small city of Kanchipuram, so I’ve made sure to visit all the attractions and try as many restaurants as possible (22 so far). With my extra time at work, I’ve been tackling the NYT games gauntlet while simultaneously watching esports discreetly in a minimized window in the bottom left corner of my screen :p
But to say the past two weeks have been boring would be wildly incorrect – there’s been a range of events that have incited feelings of excitement and worry, but also a unique and soothing feeling of serenity.
One week after the wooden chariot festival, I found myself getting sick – first with digestive issues then shortly after with a respiratory infection. Thankfully, my digestive symptoms went away quickly, but my respiratory issues have continued until now. I’m usually not the type to get worried about things, but being sick thousands of miles away from home is a little hard to ignore. It’s even more worrying that getting healthy food and clean water can be difficult.
Luckily, having finished most of my work, I was able to take a few days off to rest. Having no energy to venture out, I spent most of the day watching K-dramas and calling friends on WhatsApp. I’ve had a lot of time to myself, which is both a blessing and a curse. I’ve been trying to focus on skincare a little more, and exploiting the purchasing power disparity has helped(a cleanser, niacinamide, a toner, and sunscreen were less than 600 rupees altogether). I’ve also had time to read about lots of random things I’ve had an interest in and plan the second half of my summer in Singapore. Undeniably though, it’s hard not to feel alone, 8,498 miles away from Ann Arbor.
Although I’m still recovering, I was feeling well enough yesterday to finally visit the famous temples in Northern Kanchipuram.
I first visited the Kanchi Kamakshi Amman Temple – the largest temple in Kanchipuram, and also the most grand. It was built during the medieval empires of Tamil Nadu, and has multiple large gopurams at least 60 feet in height. There were hundreds of people waiting in line to see the idol, and I couldn’t help but notice that the only person taller than me was a toddler being held on his father’s back ( yes I still have height insecurity :3 ). I briefly saw the idol then returned outside.
I then walked to the Ekambaranathar Temple. At first glance it looked closed, however, I saw people entering through a side entrance. I left my slippers there and began walking around the temple. It was empty and relatively quiet in the temple, the complete opposite of the Kamakshi Amman Temple I had just visited. I walked around to see all the idols, doing all the prayers my mom told me to do, finally stumbling into a sacred mango tree that was kept at the center of the temple.
As I did my 3 laps around the tree, someone nearby began loudly singing thevarams, ancient Tamil songs composed for various gods. The man was singing a thevaram my ayya (grandma) had taught me over 10 years prior.
I’ve never been the most religious person, but my mom has always made sure that Hinduism would be part of my life, instilling knowledge at a very young age. I’ve forgotten essentially all the prayers I learned at that young age, but hearing this devotee sing the thevaram brought back memories of all the prayers my mom and ayya taught me so long ago. I sat down and closed my eyes, listening to the man sing thevarams. Taking a deep breath, I reminisced, letting the words flow through my head. In that moment, I felt at peace.
Afterward, I left the temple, only to find that someone had stolen my slippers(rookie mistake). My peace was instantly thrown into chaos as I realized that the main road was a 20-minute barefoot walk away, and I would have to go there to take an auto. I panicked, eventually walking the distance and returning home in the first auto willing to drive to my hotel.
From the quiet moments of introspection and spiritual connection within ancient temple walls to the abrupt disruption brought on by missing slippers, life here mirrors the unpredictable rhythm of the universe itself. Entropy is always at work, contrary to my naive middle school biochemistry theories that paralleled Laplace’s Demon. The present is always changing, and I’m continually reminded that reminiscing isn’t just about looking back, but also about grounding oneself amidst the whirlwind of the present. Kanchipuram is more than its temples and textiles, painting a vivid portrayal of the unending cycle of peace and chaos, and a reminder that within each, there’s an opportunity to find meaning and growth — even when you’re 8,498 miles away from home.
