Lasting Impressions: "Doubting Thomas," the Portuguese, and Others

Who hasn't heard of dear old "doubting Thomas," Didymus in Greek, the twin? He was the first one of Jesus' twelve disciples it seems, who when he recognized the risen Jesus boldly declared Jesus' deity by saying, "My Lord and my God." Thomas may have been the most travelled, bringing the Gospel to southern India a couple millenia ago. He, along with the Portuguese who followed him fifteen hundred years later, and a certain amount of divine intervention, did a remarkable job. In India's two southernmost states, Kerala and Tamil Nadu, I have seen a plethora of Christian churches taking their places alongside Hindu, Jain, Islamic, and Jewish houses of worship. It seems almost every church has spawned a school. I've heard many people rave about he quality of the Catholic schools in India, and how Hindu and other parents have no qualms whatsoever about sending their children to these schools, which are considered by many to be of the highest quality. Most of that Christian presence is Roman Catholic, but I have seen Syrian Orthodox churches, the ones Thomas is credited with planting, as well as Methodist, Assembly of God and non-denominational churches. I've yet to eye a Presbyterian church, but I'm looking!

Language and symbols possess a power that can, at times, jar us. While in Cochi, on the west coast, I paid a visit to a neighborhood called "Jew Town," the center of Cochi's historic spice trade, where there's a synagogue that dates to the 1500s. Although I have many Jewish friends who refer to themselves as "Jews," in our culture the word, depending on the context in which it is used, can take on a pejorative sense. Thus my surprise to wend my way toward Jew Town. A weird connection didn't occur to me until just now. En route to Jew Town, I happened upon a Jain temple, and as has happened on previous travels to India, I found myself jolted by the swastika symbols emblazoned on the temple. The swastika is an ancient symbol of hope that Hitler attempted to co-opted to symbolize his thousand year reign (of terror) that lasted for less than a decade (which was plenty). How odd that I should see these swastikas on my way to Jew Town. Ambling around Pondicherry, where I am now, I noticed a very welcoming sign at "Surya Swastika," a guesthouse. I suppose it is a good thing that this powerful symbol of hope hasn't been tainted as it has in the West.

I have been struck by the friendliness of the Indian people, their honesty dealing with this foreigner (cabbies aside), and their purposefulness and overt enthusiasm and optimism. Students from grade school to university have a disarming curiosity when they see me. Yesterday in Chennai, I spotted a sign apparently marking the business activity of my one of my former employers. It said "CIBA," a company I knew had a strong presence in India. Several police officers standing nearby saw me gawking at this sign and we began chatting (not chit-chatting Jim!). I told them I was going next to the San. Thome Cathedral, where Thomas is said to be buried. Moments later the most jovial of the coppers told me to jump on the back of his motorcycle, which I did, and he took me there straight away. How cool is that!?

On mornings in Cochi, you can't help smile when you see the little tuck-tucks (auto-rickshaws) and little minivans (really, mini-minivans) toting youngsters to school with all their little backpacks stuffed into the rack on top of their vehicles.
A few mornings ago I ate some kind of curry in a locals-only breakfast joint, with coffee that tasted like hot Breyer's ice cream. For lunch I had a mutton biriyani in another locals-only greasy spoon.

The southwest coast of India in particular, is known for its seafood. In Cochi, locals still fish using cantilevered nets introduced through the influence of trade with Chinese merchants centuries ago. The produce markets are as colorul as ever, as are their purveyors. This morning I saw some goats lounging on some steps as if they'd already put in a hard day's work. Doubtful!

Puducherry, formerly Pondicherry, is a place the French occupied as recently as about fifty years ago. The French influence as that of the Portuguese in Kerala and Goa, is clearly evident in the archtecture, street names, and food. All of this is making a lasting impression on me as St. Thomas, the Portuguese, Dutch, British, and French have on this place as well.