Armenia via Dhaka

Once home to a bustling population of Armenian traders, Armanitola—the Armenian Quarter of Old Dhaka is a fine repository of history and culture, reinforcing the strong bond between Bengal and Armenia     

By Raul Dias

I’m pretty sure that I must have made quite a spectacle of myself that sweltering summer afternoon in Dhaka, waving a soiled 100 Taka note in front of scores of bewildered noses walking past me. Even my pithy attempt at mouthing a few Bengali words, seemed to fall on deaf ears. But finally—after almost giving up any remaining hope—my phone’s wavering GPS decided to kick into action. And thus, I found myself standing in front of a structure I had been staring at every time I coughed up a 100 Taka note over my previous two days in Bangladesh.
To put it all into context, I had made the trek down the dusty alleyways of Old Dhaka with the sole aim of visiting the rather unusual Tara Masjid. For the iconic and ironically named “Star Mosque” finds a place of glory for itself on the ‘tails’ side of a 100 Taka bank note. All this thanks to its four domes that are decorated in the rare Chini Tikri (Chinese art) porcelain tile mosaic work in star motifs.
But little did I know then that that wonderful thing called serendipity had something entirely different planned out for me… 

The Other Armani!
Unbeknownst to me, I had meandered my way into Old Dhaka’s Armenian quarter. Called Armanitola, the small neighbourhood on the shores of the turgid Buriganga river was once the nerve center of Armenian life in East Bengal. For this was where jute and leather traders from the South Caucasian country in Eurasia decided to set up both shop and home.
And just a mere 300 meters south of Tara Masjid, is what is believed to be the ‘Ground Zero’ of this unique quarter. Simply called the Armenian Church, the Armenian Apostolic Church of the Holy Resurrection was built in 1781 by the traders on a plot of land that they had earlier used as a cemetery.
This edifice, with its hexagonal, crucifix-topped steeple and generous narthex reminded me not just of St. Peter’s Armenian Apostolic Church in my home city of Mumbai, but also of the similarly-structured Armenian Holy Church of Nazareth in nearby Kolkata. But besides Mumbai, Kolkata and other places in West Bengal like Saidabad, even a few other Indian cities like Chennai once had a thriving Armenian population and grand churches to cater to the growing congregation that had been settling in India since the 16th century.

Blast from the past
It is weeks after I return from Bangladesh, as I leaf through a copy of the Anne Basil authored Armenian Settlements in India at Mumbai’s Asiatic Library, do I realise that there was not one, but two separate waves of an Armenian exodus to India (which Bangladesh was a part of then). The first of which was in 1645 with the aforementioned merchants arriving in Bengal, purely for trading purposes. Interestingly, the book even references an agreement of 1688 between the English East India Company and Armenian merchants that reads “whenever forty or more of the Armenian nation shall become inhabitants in any of the garrisons, cities or towns belonging to the Company in the East Indies, the said Armenians shall not only have and enjoy the free use and exercise of their religion, but there shall also be allotted to them a parcel of ground to erect a church thereon…”
It was the second exodus, however, that is the most poignant. As it was in the wake of the 1915 East Anatolia Armenian genocide of more than a million people by Turkish forces. In fact, Basil even speaks of “hundreds of children of uprooted families…found shelter and a roof and received sufficient education…” at the Armenian College and Philanthropic Academy in Kolkata, that is to this day very much functional and a source of pride for the city’s small Armenian diaspora.

Sentinels of Solemnity 
Back at the church at Armanitola, Hafiz, the old watchman who had let me in earlier tells me the story of the last Armenian in Bangladesh. All this in broken English bolstered by his wild gesticulating, of course! Apparently, up until 2014 Mikel Housep Martirossian the Dhaka-born son of an Armenian jute trader was not just the caretaker of the Armenian Church but also its sole congregant who would say his daily prayers sitting quietly in the first pew. After a stroke five years ago, he moved to Canada at the behest of his children who live there and was never heard of again.
But there is some hope for the Church, I am told. The Armenian Embassy in Dhaka that looks after its upkeep has hinted at the possibility of getting down a new warden for the church from Armenia. Till then, it’s up to Hafiz to keep the fires burning. Quite literally, as he lights the altar candles daily at 7pm.       
As I leave the church gates, I make sure to squeeze a small tip into Hafiz’s wrinkled palm. And yes, it was one of those same 100 Taka notes that started it all!

(This article first appeared in the 22nd February 2020 issue of the Mint Lounge newspaper, India on page 17 https://www.livemint.com/mint-lounge/features/the-stars-of-dhaka-s-armanitola-11582468772877.html)

Mandu via Madagascar

With its impressive cache of baobab trees, the ancient, fortified city of Mandu in the southwest of Madhya Pradesh seems the unlikeliest of places to find the tree of African origins thriving and thus becoming a part of the rich, local folklore.    

By Raul Dias

It’s just been a couple of hours since our minibus—having climbed the long, winding road etched onto the Madhya Pradesh section of central India’s Vindhya Range—has deposited my friends and I into the ancient, fortified city of Mandu. Here, from our basecamp in Indore, to participate in the 2019 edition of the 10km Go Heritage Run Mandu, we quickly realise something thanks to our rather loquacious driver. And that is, that myths and Mandu seem to enjoy a ‘conscious coupling’ made in folkloric heaven! It wouldn’t be an exaggeration on my part to say that everything in this city that sits precariously perched on the Malwa plateau has some sort of phantasmagorical legend ascribed to it. A fact we bear witness to almost everywhere we go…

Heads and Tales
At the city center located Ashrafi Mahal, my 14-year-old de facto ‘guide’ Khayyum sidles up to me to tell me how one of Mandu’s earlier rulers, Mahmud Shah Khilji used the now-crumbling edifice as a gym in the15^th century for some of the portly concubines in his harem. Apparently, said concubines would be rewarded with gold coins that Khilji had placed on each of the Mahal’s steps they would climb as part of their exercise regimen. And hence the name ashrafi which means “coin” in old Persian.
One is also told tales of the great love of the poetess queen of Malwa Rani Roopmati and Sultan Baz Bahadur—who built her the rather vertiginous Roopmati’s Pavilion at his Rewa Kund Palace in the early 16^th century, so that she could gaze at her beloved Narmada river. All this, of course, before she poisoned herself upon hearing of Baz Bahadur’s death and the ensuing fall of Mandu. Then there is the famous myth of the headless soldier who till this day is said to guard the Tripolia Darvaza, one of the 12 gates along the city’s stone walls that serve as portals to Mandu.   

Trunk Call
However, one Mandu-specific phenomenon defies all logic and comprehension, leaving me both bewildered and fascinated as I sprint past a few of them en route the early morning heritage run. I’m speaking of the rather bulbous trunked, leaf-bereft baobab tree that make their unusual presence felt all over the city. Native to Madagascar, some parts of mainland, sub Saharan Africa and Australia, the baobab tree is known not just for its towering height (up to 98 ft), but girth (up to 36 ft) and age (3,000 years) as well. The rather succulent trunk of the baobab is also said to hold as much as 100,000 liters of water—perfect to soak up Mandu’s aqueous bounty of the monsoon—while its fruit bat-pollinated flowers hang upside down and bloom only at night. Their otherwise mild fragrance, intensifies even more when it mingles with the musky petrichor brought on by the cooling rain that hydrates the parched, arid summer soil, making Mandu one of the India’s most idyllic monsoon getaways.  
Found almost everywhere in the city for sale and called Mandu ki Imli, the elongated, rugby ball-like shaped baobab fruit when cracked open is a cluster of white pulp-coated seeds that resemble giant custard apple segments. Both the seeds and the dried pulp when powdered and mixed with chilled water are used to make a delightful sour, Vitamin C-rich drink that I relish at a hawker stall after a sweltering trek up Baz Bahadur’s palace. I even take back a few packets of the powder for friends and family.

Disputed Origins?
Back to Mandu and its myths. This time with regards to the ubiquitous baobab tree’s origins. I grapple with three different explanations for their presence here—each more fascinating than the other. Though one of them seems to have the empirical backing that only a precise science like geology can provide. But more on that one in a while as I lose myself in the miasma of myths!
A local shopkeeper selling the fuzz-coated fruit outside the gates of Ashrafi Mahal calls it ‘Khorasani imli’. When I probe further, he tells me that it was a group of spice route traders en route from Khorasan (which was what Central Asia used to be called earlier) to the orient, who brought along a few baobab seeds from their earlier travels to Africa which they then exchanged for food and shelter in Mandu.        
Later in the day, as I take in the ship-like silhouette of the Jahaz Mahal complex built as a harem in the second half of the 15^th century by Sultan Ghiyas-ud-din-Khalji and situated between two artificial lakes, my attention is once again drawn to a row of baobab trees standing guard at the east side of the complex. My guide tells me that the Sultan had a great fascination for exotic, foreign visitors. And that it was one such visitor to his court from Madagascar who presented him with a few baobab seeds that he had planted first at Jahaz Mahal then at other spots in Mandu.

P.S. Back home in Mumbai, my geologist friend Tanya shines some light on another baobab facet I had gravely ignored while busy romancing myths. Apparently, more than a 100 million years ago, India, Madagascar and Australia were all part of the mother continent called Gondwanaland and with the ensuing continental split, it created the three distinct paths taken by the baobab.
But that still begs the question; why Mandu and not Mumbai or Madurai?
   

Travel log

Getting There
Mandu can be reached from most Indian cities via Indore (2 hours) or Bhopal (5.5 hours) by road. The nearest railhead for Mandu is Ratlam on the Delhi-Mumbai main line which is just under a three-hour drive away.

Stay
The super clean rooms, tasty food options and efficient service make the Madhya Pradesh State Tourism Department Corporation (MPSTDC)-run Malwa Retreat Mandu (Rs.1,900 approx. for two with breakfast, olrs.mpstdc.com) a good option. Another property worth checking out is the three-star Mandu Sarai Hotel (Rs.2,200 approx. for two with breakfast, sarai-mandu.booked.net).

Tip
* Plan a visit to the ancient Buddhist Bagh Caves and to the Bagh Village famous for its artisans who practice the art of block printing fabrics using herb-based dyes. Both the caves and the village can be found in the Dhar District on the banks of the river Baghini en route from Bhopal and Indore to Mandu. 


(An edited version of this article first appeared in the 8th June 2019 issue of The Hindu Business Line newspaper's BLink section on page 21 https://www.thehindubusinessline.com/blink/cover/the-baobab-tree-madagascars-gift-to-mandu/article27609709.ece)

Galle: Where Time Stands Still…

Situated at the very tip of the island of Sri Lanka, the historic city of Galle with its strong colonial influence and easy, laid-back vibe is a great holiday destination, offering a whole host of activities for you to partake in, says Raul Dias who tried out a few on a recent holiday

By Raul Dias

       

Let me be upfront with you. My very first encounter with Galle had left me heartbroken. It was exactly 11 months after the horrific 26^th December 2004 tsunami had all but decimated this once-beautiful city of Sri Lanka that sits at the very southern tip of the island nation. Everywhere I looked, a sea of rubble and reconstruction at a feverish pace assaulted by eyes. The historic Fort area where I was told the “real” Galle was, was unfortunately sealed off to non-residents and thus out of bounds for travellers like myself.
It was then that I made a promise to myself that I’d wait and let Galle rejuvenate before I set foot there once again. Little did I know then that it would be almost 13 years after that I’d be back. And boy, was I in for the surprise of my life or what.

Rise of the Phoenix
August 2018 and the Galle that showed itself to me was a complete volte-face from the one of my memories. Clean, freshly swept streets, whitewashed walls with colourful bougainvillea creeping all over them. Happy, smiling people greeted me everywhere I went. And not a single remnant of the earlier carnage of Mother Nature marred this new facet Galle was showing me. And yes, this time I not only got to ‘see’ the stunning Fort area but live in it as well!
My Airbnb accommodation, the brand new Yara Galle Fort boutique hotel—where my friends and I were the third set of guests to be welcomed into—is a magnificently restored former Dutch Colonial style home. Located in the very heart of the Fort, the hotel, I was told, was first built in the mid-1700s and is a mere 70 meters away from the pristine white painted Dutch Reformed Church.
Speaking of churches, for an area as small (130 acres) as the Fort, it sure had a lot of places of worship. From the Meeran Jumma Mosque opposite the lighthouse and the serene Sri Sudharmalaya Buddhist Temple on Parawa Street to the beautiful Anglican All Saints Church a few yards ahead of the Dutch Church, all exist in perfect harmony with each other.

A Walk Though History
Desirous of a more in-depth historical recounting of Galle that no amount of reading can provide, I signed up for the newly curated Airbnb Experiences’ ‘Galle Fort Walks with a Local’. Conducted by Atheeq, a budding travel photographer and fifth-generation member of a prominent gem trading Galle family, this 1.5 hours-long walk came highly recommended and something I was looking forward to.
And so, after a lunch of a yummy fish burger—made with chunks of tuna marinated in the local, jet black-coloured ambulthiyal spice mix that I enjoyed at the wonderfully ‘punny’ named Tequila Mockingbird Bar and Grill in the Old Hospital Building—we were off on foot to explore Galle with a local and yes, “like a local” as is the idea behind this Experiences initiative by Airbnb!
Here, we were shown places like the still-functioning court house, the town square in front of it and the Fort’s lighthouse that was built only post WWII, showing us that the Fort area kept evolving. The Portuguese, Dutch, and British occupied the Galle Fort at various points during Sri Lanka’s colonial history, and they have each left a unique imprint on its fabric. As we navigated our way through the Fort’s charming alleyways at a leisurely pace, a fascinating blend of local design traditions and European colonial influence became evident in the architectural style of its many interesting structures. Atheeq made sure to keep the walk peppered with interesting facts, stories, and myths, all interwoven by the unique perspective and narrative of a local like himself, who knows this terrain as well as the back of his hand. And as a parting treat, we were taken to Galle’s best gelato shop named Isle of Gelato for some divine treats like the pistachio and orange-cinnamon double scoop that I happily gourmandised.

Surf’s Up!
As one of the world’s leading new surfing hot-spots, with their impressive swells, the waters off the beaches in and around Galle are fast becoming a haven for surfers who flock to them in droves. And so, recognising this is another fun initiative by Airbnb Experiences—learning to surf with surfing guru Oshan Diluk.
Born and raised in beautiful Hikkaduwa a little further up from Galle, Oshan knows the best places around Galle to host successful surf lessons especially for beginners. With over four years of experience as a surfing instructor he provides a whole lot of tips and advice to help you ride your first waves. Interestingly, Oshan also volunteers to teach the local kids in Sri Lanka how to surf and many of his students have progressed and got scholarships to learn advanced level surfing in places like Indonesia, the surfing capital of Asia.
The first part of the 1.5 hours-long lesson takes place at the beach, where one can get an idea on how to find balance and the right posture on the board. Oshan make sure to also spend some time talking about safety rules and surfers’ etiquette. Afterwards you get to hit the water to put that theory into practice.
A hands-on holiday where you do a whole lot more than just ‘site-see’, now that’s Galle for you!
    

FACT FILE
Getting There
There are daily direct flights from most cities in India to Sri Lanka’s capital Colombo on airlines like Srilankan Airlines, Jet Airways, Air India and Spice Jet. Travel within Sri Lanka is easy with many buses, mini vans and car hire companies offering their services. The journey from Colombo to Galle using the super-efficient expressway is a comfortable two-hour drive.

When to Visit
The months from October to February are the best time to travel to Galle, when the region experiences a pleasant climate with plenty of cultural and artistic events taking place in and around the region.

Accommodation
Though Galle has an excellent selection of hotels to choose from to suit all budgets and tastes, why not get more up close and personal with the city and live like a local? Airbnb has an amazing portfolio of vacation homes that you can rent out. Visit www.airbnb.co.in for more information on accommodation options and the new, curated Airbnb Experiences in Galle.

(An edited version of this article appeared in the 31st August 2018 issue of the Afternoon Despatch & Courier newspaper, India on pages 14 and 15 http://www.afternoondc.in/48-hrs/galle-where-time-stands-still/article_230568)