Ganga Talao - Le Grand Bassin

There is no official religion in Mauritius - Hindus, Muslims, Christians and Buddhists all have their own places of worship, traditions, and public holidays. Almost 50% of the population is Hindu though, making Hinduism the most practised of the major religions.

Grand Bassin, or Ganga Talao, is the most sacred Hindu site in Mauritius. It's a crater lake around 1800 feet above sea level, in the highest and wettest part of the island. As well as being a place of pilgrimage, it's a major tourist attraction, but you have to choose your day carefully as the weather is pretty unpredictable. I've been on days where the sky was blue and cloudless, I've been on sunny days but where the clouds closed in and the rain came down within minutes, and I've been on a day when the weather was so bad that you couldn't even see the lake from the top of the steps.

Mum wondering if she dares to ring the bell

The road leading to Grand Bassin is possibly the best maintained road on the whole island, with a pavement as wide as the road itself to accommodate all the pilgrims. At the end of the road, the world's second largest statue of Shiva stands guard. The detail on the statue is incredible. It's an exact copy of one in India and measures 108 feet.

I've been reading about the origins of Ganga Talao and have found a couple of conflicting stories. Since I don't know which is right, I'm not going to tell you either of them. Despite being considered holy by Hindus for hundreds of years, the site was only actually declared sacred in 1998. Every year, towards the end of February, 400,000 Hindus from all over Mauritius walk to the lake to pray, make offerings, and collect water to take back to their local temple. It can take them a few days to walk the whole journey, and it often rains. They say that Shiva sends the rain so the pilgrims don't get too hot.

Once you make it past Shiva and down the steps, you can see temples all around the lake, with statues of different Hindu Gods. I eavesdropped on a tour guide's speech once, and learned that those with several arms didn't really have several arms. The extra ones are there to represent their supernatural powers.

Even when there's no festival, people often go to make offerings, and the edge of the lake is full of coconut shells, bananas, and miniature statues. The food attracts local wildlife including birds and monkeys, and some strange lake dwelling creatures.

My friend Anne took this photo

I've only ever visited Grand Bassin at quiet times, and would love to see all the colour and celebrations of Maha Shivaratri. I've heard that the pilgrims are very welcoming and happy to answer questions from curious onlookers about what's going on, but I think I'd still find it a bit strange to be caught up in the middle of it all. If we're still in Mauritius next February, perhaps I'll try and get there.

Lessons from my Mauritian family

Merv's family is huge. His parents have several brothers and sisters each, and he has more cousins from one aunt and uncle than I do in my whole family. After fifteen years outside Mauritius, he wasn't as close to them as he used to be, but since Pierre's accident we have seen each other a lot more, and I've been learning all kinds of interesting things from them. 

1. How to pick a mango

Sounds easy, right? That is, until you learn that a mango tree can grow up to 40m tall. Unless you have incredibly long arms, you need to find another way to do it. If you just get a big stick, you can bash your mango to the ground, but you risk damaging it in the process. 

What you need is a large plastic water bottle, cut in half and fastened to the end of your stick, making a perfect mango-sized cradle. Once the mango is inside the bottle, providing it's ripe enough, a quick flick of the wrist is enough to detach it from the tree, and you can lower it down gently.

 2. All about bananas

If you've read the blog before, you'll know I had a bit of an obsession with some bananas growing in my neighbour's garden. I've moved house now, so will never know what happens to them, but I did get to assist recently as one of the cousins chopped down a banana stem. Unfortunately I didn't have my camera for this one though.

The bananas grow on a stem, like the one above, and after one stem of fruit, the plant is pretty much useless and needs chopping down. That's not the end though, as, by this time, the plant will have produced several offshoots which will all be growing new fruit. In fact, a banana plant can be a bit of a pest in your garden as you never know where the next one will pop up.

3. How to eat

Merv's family is a perfect example of how multicultural and religiously diverse Mauritius is. His grandparents were both Catholic, but one of his aunts married a practising Hindu, and their daughter married a Muslim. This aunt sadly lost her husband two weeks before Pierre died, and we were invited to their house during the traditional prayers which take place after the funeral. Only the immediate family took part, so I don't really know what went on; we just saw lots of flowers and fruit offerings and burning incense sticks. We did, however, get to eat all the delicious food they had prepared, including the seven (vegetarian) curries which are customary at Hindu events. For each dish we ate, we had to put a small piece onto a different plate. It was to show that we were sharing our meal with Ton Kumar who had passed away.

The curries are eaten with ti puris, which are a bit like chapatis but fried, and served on a banana leaf. I'd already eaten briani before using my fingers instead of cutlery, but it's a whole different thing when it's just curry and no rice to stick it all together. I wanted to fit in as much as possible though so I refused offers of a spoon. (Unlike one of Merv's cousins who brought shame on his parents by eating with a spoon while I used my fingers!) Everyone seemed really pleased that I was making an effort, and it kept them all entertained as well. They all had their own technique they wanted me to try, and by the end I was doing pretty well. I learned how to pick up the food with the tips of my fingers only and to flick it into my mouth using my thumb.

I realise as I write this post that all I've talked about so far is food! It's a good reflection of how important eating and sharing food is in Mauritius. And I think it's one of my favourite things about the country; there's so much that is new to me, and I want to try as much as I can.

4. Preparing brèdes songes

One of the curries we ate was "brèdes songes", or taro leaves in English. I'd eaten this dish once before in a nice restaurant and wasn't really a fan, but the fun thing about this time was that we actually went walking to pick the brèdes, and I learned how to prepare them.

We walked near a reservoir in the north of the island called La Nicolière. It's quite high up so we had some great views and it was really quiet and peaceful.

I went paddling in the river with the children while the men did the hard work. I also ate some "goyaves de Chine" which were growing along the footpath. Apparently called strawberry guava in English, it was another fruit I'd never heard of. You need to be careful though; if they're not ripe enough, they taste horrible!

When we arrived back at the house with our loot, the women of the family sat around a big table in the garden to begin preparing the leaves for cooking. There was a really nice friendly atmosphere; everyone laughing and joking and pitching in to help. I asked if they would show me how to prepare them as well, but they said I should just watch because my hands would get dirty! I laughed it off and said they would always wash, and that I wanted to help, so they showed me how to break the leaf and peel off the woody outer stem, before they were chopped into small pieces for the pot. It wasn't as easy as they made it look! As I mentioned, the curries were being prepared for the meal accompanying the prayers the next day. I was terrified one of the visiting priests would end up with inedible food because I was so bad at the preparation. I seem to have got away with it though.

They were not kidding about the dirty hands though - by the time I'd finished, my hands were black. I had to scrub with wire wool to get it all off. Ouch.

5. Speaking Kréol, or at least understanding what's going on

This is an ongoing thing. The first time we visited Merv's family in 2012 I had absolutely no idea what was happening, or what they were saying about me! Most Mauritians speak French or English, so I don't really NEED to learn Kréol, but I love languages, and hate feeling ignorant, so I'm doing my best. Depending on who's speaking, I can usually understand the gist of a conversation, and I can say 2 or 3 basic sentences now.  However, as with any new language, when there's a big group of people all talking together, it's almost impossible to follow. The cousins and nieces are very good about speaking slowly and being patient if I don't know what they're talking about. I'll write more another day about the language itself.

The whole family have decided we should spend more time together, especially now Pierre is no longer here, and have invited me to visit them whenever I like, with or without Merv. I'm sure they've got a whole lot more to teach me, and hopefully I can share some of my own culture with them. A little bit of England in Pamplemousses. Yes, they actually do live in a village called "Grapefruits", isn't that great?!

Au Revoir Papy Pierre

One week ago, island life as I knew it came to an abrupt end following the unexpected death of my Father in Law. The past few days have been, without doubt, the most difficult of my life so far, but have also taught me many things. A blog is not an appropriate place to go into details of what happened; instead I'm choosing to focus on the positive, to share my feelings about this aspect of Mauritian culture I hoped never to see, and to pay tribute in my own way to Papy Pierre.

I grew up protected from the reality of death wherever possible. Talking about dying and funerals seemed dark and morbid; a topic to be avoided and even feared. As a result, I was totally unprepared for the events of this week. This is absolutely not a criticism of my upbringing, but rather an observation on the differences between two cultures. 

In Mauritius, a funeral happens as soon as possible after the death, and is preceded by a wake, during which family, friends, colleagues, and neighbours come to pray and pay their respects. I was initally surprised to see at least two young children present, but it quickly became clear that they are used to such events. They were quiet and respectful, but not visibly shocked or upset. I realised, at that moment, that the practical, open attitude that Mauritians have towards death is much healthier than ours. They are teaching their children that dying is a completely natural part of life, and is nothing to be afraid of. It was equally heartening to see family members of several different religions, or with no religious beliefs at all, participating in the Catholic and Anglican prayers said for Pierre. 

After a beautiful ceremony in a mixture of Mauritian Kréol, French, and English, we headed to the cemetery in the pouring rain to say our final goodbye. As the grave was filled in and covered in pretty, colourful flowers, a flash of lightning lit up the sky. One of our friends pointed out that Pierre must have just taken a photo! It was exactly what we needed to lighten the mood, and still has me chuckling five days later. 

One of the main reasons we decided to move to Mauritius was for me to get to know Merv's family, to see where he grew up, and to learn about his culture. I'm incredibly grateful that I've been able to spend this past year with Pierre. He was a man with a very strong character, and not always the easiest person to get along with, but he welcomed me into his home and his life and was always extremely kind to me. My favourite times with him were those we spent in his kitchen, or at the dining table. He shared all his Mauritian recipes with me, and I maintain that we ate better chez Papy Pierre than in any restaurant on the island!

Here are some of the dishes we cooked together: 

Mauritian fish vindaloo with carrots and lentils, and a watercress salad

Rougail corned beef with chouchou and cucumber salad

Sausage rougail with sautéed greens and kidney beans

I don't remember what this was exactly but it was delicious!

Patisson, Mauritian style mashed potato, and cabbage salad

Pipangaille (a local vegetable)

The last photo of us together. We were preparing green papaya salad.

 I will miss you Papy Pierre. Mauritius seems empty without you.

Here comes the rain again

I know I talked about the rain not that long ago, but I still have more to say. It must be my Britishness coming out, or maybe it's just because there's so much of the stuff here and it impacts more than just my choice of shoes.

In Réunion, some roads have what they call a "radier" (I don't know how to say this in English, any suggestions welcome!) The road crosses a ravine which is dry for most of the year. In the wet season, after a heavy downpour, the river crosses the road, making it temporarily inaccessible. There's a radier in the town where my Mother-in-Law lives, but I had never seen it "in action" until last week.

 

Despite the warning signs and the giant red and white barrier, we did see a man pedal across on his bicycle with a typical French disregard for the rules. I was told that the people of the town know when it's safe to cross and it saves them taking a huge detour on the "quatre voies" main road.

There's been talk for a long time about building a bridge here as the closure of the radier causes huge traffic jams in the town. I don't know whether they'll ever actually get around to it though. It rained non-stop for several days and the road was closed for about a week while I was there.

Back in Mauritius, you can judge how heavily it has been raining by the price of tomatoes. Unlike in Europe, tomatoes are rarely grown in greenhouses here, so the fragile plants suffer a lot when it starts to rain. Generally we pay between 40-60 rupees (According to the internet, 40 rupees is currently worth 78p) for half a kilo of nice, local tomatoes; this morning the cheapest ones I could find were 120 rupees. I decided not to buy any at that price, so tonight we'll be eating homemade green papaya salad with our roast chicken.

When you have nowhere to go, watching rain like this is pretty impressive:

 

The roof of our house, like many Mauritian houses, is flat. Our landlady is planning to build another floor one day, but for the moment it is where we hang our washing, and where the water tank and solar water heater live. Unfortunately, the builder made an elementary mistake - the roof is totally flat, without a slope to allow rainwater to drain away, so when I went upstairs yesterday, I realised that we now have a lake above our heads.

 

It was pretty in the evening though with the reflection of the sunset...

The weather forecast here is not very helpful; in fact it's more like a summary of the day's weather than a prediction for the next day. I thought we would be better off just looking out of the window and deciding for ourselves, but I learned today that that isn't always a good plan either. We left home in blazing sunshine this morning, but by the time we reached the main road, you could hardly see out of the windscreen. Instead of the water crossing the road like at the radier, it was flowing down the middle like a river. I just hope it's going to calm down a bit this week as we have places to go and people to see, and we're doing it all by bus because our car is poorly.

How do you do an anti-rain dance?

 

 

The Bluest Bay of all

Blue Bay, as its name suggests, is pretty blue. This is what it looks like from above :

I previously posted about Le Morne Brabant being one of my two favourite places in Mauritius, and this is the other one. Despite its proximity to the airport, Blue Bay isn't particularly touristy and, on a normal day, the beach is pretty empty.

If you make the mistake of going there on a public holiday though, the view is rather different...

Blue Bay is a protected marine park, a status given because it is home to the biggest brain coral in the Indian Ocean, and one of the five biggest in the world if I remember correctly from our tour. Boating, fishing and swimming are all restricted - boat tours are allowed but there are designated points where they are allowed to drop anchor for snorkelling, and there are places they are not permitted to go depending on the tide.

I've been on the glass bottomed boat tour of the park four times now and I never get tired of it. The first time we went, the boat went directly to the snorkelling point and stayed there for an hour, but the other times, with a different company, we've had a proper tour of the park where they explain about the different types of coral, the fish, the efforts to regenerate coral growth after cyclone damage, and all sorts of other interesting information. As they know us now, they make an effort to try and show us something new each time. On our last visit it was this impressive rock full of clam shells (bénitier):

I'm told if you get your foot stuck in one of them, you'll never get it out again...

The park also contains approximately 38 different species of coral. It's an impressive sight, even for people who don't like to snorkel. The water is so clear that you almost get a better view from the glass bottomed boat.

I can't take the credit for this amazing picture, my friend Franck took it with my underwater camera.

Once you've seen the coral, it's time to meet the fish. If you're lucky, you might be the only people there, and it really is like swimming in an aquarium, it's incredible, especially considering you're still so close to the beach.

When my parents visited at the end of last year, I spent a week telling them how beautiful Blue Bay was, raving about the clear water and the fish. Sadly though, the day we took them there a bad weather system was just on its way out, and the sea was green and choppy. The boat tours were all cancelled, and you couldn't even see the bottom when you were standing waist-high in the water. I was so disappointed. I'd never seen it like that. Luckily though, we booked a boat trip for the last day of their holiday and by then it was back to normal. My Dad took this picture, and it's not even photoshopped, I promise!

Home sweet island home

After more than two months away visiting friends and family, I feared the worst when I finally got back to Mauritius yesterday. Some people worry about flooding or burglaries; for me it was cockroach infestations, ant colonies and dead lizards. I actually got off pretty lightly I think, apart from the 10 tons of lizard poo. So far, I've only found one dead cockroach, a couple of dead wasps, and a few spiders. I've spent the majority of today scraping stinky lizard poo off walls, skirting boards and work surfaces. People told me I should appreciate lizards for their mosquito-killing capacities, but to be honest, I'd rather just buy some repellent and risk the occasional bite. Don't worry, no photos of poo.

A quick tour of the garden has revealed some interesting changes. The birds have come back and built a new nest behind one of our air-con units. I think one of them must have flown pretty hard into our kitchen window because there's a crack in it now, and I can't think how else it might have got there.

Remember the papaya tree that was saved from destruction when we saw there was some fruit growing on it? Well, it's now as tall as my house. 

I think this is what my landlady was afraid of. I'm going to try and appease her with some of these when they're ripe:

The biggest surprise of all is that the calebasse is back, again! It really is indestructible. I'm going to be much less sentimental about it this time.

When I arrived home yesterday, I opened the freezer to check what we had in, and was touched to see that Merv had prepared some meals for me to eat while he was away.

Touched, until I looked more closely and realised that it's actually 10 portions of gratin made from the last calebasse! There's still one in the cupboard too. Be warned, if you come for dinner anytime soon, that's what you'll be eating.

Season switching

It’s been a while. I can’t believe it’s already February. The reason I haven’t written on the blog for so long is that I spent a lot of January travelling. Aside from the limited internet time, it was kind of hard to get inspired to write about life on a tropical island when I was huddled under a blanket on the sofa, turning on the lights at 4pm when it got dark and turning the thermostat up to a toasty 17°c; hard to imagine a time when I set the air conditioning to cool me down to 26°c!

After two months of being surrounded by family and friends, I wasn’t keen on going back to an empty house in Mauritius, so I decided to add an extra flight to my journey and come directly to see my Belle Famille in Réunion. The people at the airport did look at me a little strangely when I came out wearing jeans, jumper and trainers, with a big coat over my arm! 

I landed right in the middle of the tropical summer season so it’s warm, hot even, but with a lot of wind and even more rain. We keep having those intense downpours that only last a few minutes but leave you feeling like you just got out of the shower. And to all those people thinking “Well, at least it’s warm rain”, that’s true, but I find it much worse to have wet feet sliding around in sandals, than warm, dry feet in a nice pair of boots! 

Summer in the tropics is also cyclone season but I’m hoping they’ll keep their distance this year. There are some aspects of island life that I’m happy to remain ignorant about.