Elephanta Island

Today we made a trip to Elephanta Island by "luxury" boat (i.e. it didn't capsize) from the Gateway of India through Mumbai Harbor. Our boat shuddered with the engine and the seats were covered in layers of crumbling blue paint, but overall it pushed off smoothly. We purchased a bag of turmeric flavored popcorn for 4 rupees (8 cents), and on board snack vendors tried to sell us Lay's chips out of a basket labelled "Traditional Indian Snacks" (to their credit one of the options was some kind of Indian Masala flavor, but they also had Plain and Sour Cream & Onion).

Mumbai Harbor is a massive pool of water fed by a river and connected to the Arabian Sea, and when in the middle of it we could see no land on any side. Enormous tankers regularly float through the toxic water, laden with hundreds of shipping containers or carrying oil. We first passed the Indian Navy station, a madmade concrete island that we at first mistook for a jail. Cannons pointed into the harbor (at us, as we passed) from platforms on top. Mumbai faded away into the distance and the choking smog quickly swallowed the shapes of the city buildings. About halfway through our hour-long trip, we passed an oil ship labeled "Singapore" lashed to huge struts in the water. The ship was attached to a very long, thick pipe, perhaps a mile long, leading to a nearby island. The words "NO SMOKING" were larger than any of the other markings. As we passed, we saw other long pips radiating from the island like spokes, each hooked up to another huge oil tanker. The stench of gasoline was overwhelming.

Our boat pulled up to Elephanta Island and we leapt aboard the concrete jetty with the other tourists, about 75% Indian and the rest foreigners. Vendors lining the jetty walkway tried to sell us all manner of food and drink, from char-grilled corn on the cob to strange red berries to water and fresh chai. A local man walked halfway down the jetty with us (about a 5 minute walk total) trying to sell us on his tour guide services ("veeeery cheeap, good deal"), which we politely refused throughout. Eventually he gave up on trying to pursuade us to see all 8 caves with him, but we later saw him have more success with a pair of other foreign tourists. As we passed the edge of the shore I finally got my first cow sighting - a white cow and a brown bull were serenely hanging out on the muddy beach.

The long staircase walkway from the boat landing to the caves at the top of the hill was lined with vendors selling handicrafts (prices inflated for the tourists), but was thankfully shaded with dozens of blue tarps. We passed beaded jewelry of all colors and types, sandalwood boxes, shell wind chimes, bags and purses, miniature gods, and T-shirts with funny Western puns. Nick badly wanted the shirt depicting an Indian potter with the caption, "Hari Potter."

Once at the top of the hill, we paid our entry into the park, where schools of monkeys hung from the railings and avoided the roaming stray dogs. As we we waited in line, a large male monkey (their exposed balls are unmistakable) suddenly leapt off the railing and started harrassing an Indian man holding a mango drink, pulling on the bottom of his shirt. When the man didn't give his drink to the monkey, it jumped right on him, shouting and trying to grab the bottle. The startled man tried to shake the monkey off and gave up, tossing the drink to the ground, where the monkey promptly grabbed it, ran off to the side under the railing, and twisted the screw top off the plastic bottle with impressive dexterity. It happily drank every drop of the mango drink while an underling licked the discared top clean. Everyone in the crowd laughed at the scene but everyone was far too startled to do anything to help the man with his mango drink! Having gained confidence, another monkey ran straight up to an Indian woman in a sari and grabbed her, demanding her bottle of water. She shreiked and threw the bottle to the ground, but the monkey wasn't quite as pleased since it wasn't a sweet fruit juice.

The Elephanta Caves themselves were stunning. Standing in the enormous atrium of the main cave, completed as early as 300-400 AD (no one really knows - some say more recently), it acutally took effort to remember that every detail was carved directly out of the solid rock to the tune of a 60,000 square foot chamber. The dozens of thick pillars "supporting" the ceiling were not placed there - their form was extracted from the mountain - but their tops cleverly "bulge" under the weight of the rock above. The intricate carvings of enormous Hindu deities also were not completed in some remote location from a slab of limestone. They were created in the half-dark of the hewn cave to smooth perfection. Lonely Planet described the centerpiece, a 20-foot carving of the three faces of Shiva, as "possibly the most serene sight you will see in all of India." Despite the stench of bat guano, Shiva was indeed serene. Dim in the rear of the cave and hidden from the elements the carving has survived the centuries remarkably well, and Shiva's divinely relaxed expression, eyes closed, face relaxed, inspired a calmness I have yet to feel anywhere in New York. Other reliefs showed a pantheon of Hindu deities major and minor, some beatific, some angry, some lewd, and some female. The inner shrines were extremely simple, on a raised platform with 4 walls and open doorways. Inside, the rock was carved into a square table-like platform with a smooth, rounded rock protrusion called a lingam, and devotees had placed offerings of flowers and money around it. The lingam is where Shiva resides in his non-anthropomorphic form, representing the omnipresent primeval energy of god that is said to be present in all things. A stick of incense burned a fragrant smell and a group of three heavy Westerners stood to photograph themselves with the lingam.