India

In the Himalayas religion isn’t something ethereal and insoluable. If you want to ask forgiveness or a blessing from the gods, all you have to do is invite them to dinner. Really.

Of course, you have to invite the rest of the village as well and pay the local Brahmins, a tradition that Mark Twain noted on his travels here:

“To get to paradise from India is an expensive thing. Every detail connected with the matter costs something, and helps to fatten a priest”

So all day you have the Brahmins cooking up to five different kinds of dal in enormous cooking pots that bubble away on top of large log fires. Whilst they cook up the banquet the local god arrives at some point, an effigy carried on a stretcher by four or more men who are supposedly steered by the will of the divine.

The god is followed by its own band and makes its arrival known with drum beats and blaring horns. That’s about it for the god, really, except for a bit of strutting around here or there. Anyway, it’s an excuse for everyone to stop working and come out to gossip.

When the food is ready long straw mats are laid out and upwards of a hundred people sit down to eat at each sitting. The courses of dal are served one by one and it’s some of the best food you’ll ever eat in India, including one dal that’s made with mustard seeds and dates.

Food fit for the gods.

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