What's That Smell?

In addition to the varieties of sounds one can experience as well as the vibrant tapestry of visual impressions faced on the everyday streets of Madurai, the smells are no less part of the synesthetic opera of the senses. The aromas, smells, odors, and scents run the gamut of flat-out nauseating stenches to nearly intoxicating sweetness.

Of course, now every country and city has its own distinctive smells, and by no means are Belgium, Italy, or the United States lacking in such an array of olfactory tricks and treats, for one of the worst smells that I have encountered in my life was recently driving back from Santa Fe to Amarillo and we passed the very large cattle feedlot after a heavy rain, which in turn had followed a months-long draught, making for steaming, wet mountains of cow manure to waft for fifty miles in every direction. Belgium has plenty of chicken and pig farms, perhaps the most vile-smelling places imaginable and the centuries-old cloaca maxima-esque gutters of Antwerp will rival any stench of the “smelly river” in Madurai if they begin to overflow after a rain as well. Not to mention that a diesel-infused, exhaust-choked street in Bologna in the dead heat of August comes in no distant second place to any one of these smells either. So, essentially, one should not be overwhelmed.

It’s just a smell, right? I mean, Belgium has smells, right? America has smells. What’s the point of writing about smells now then.

I guess. In theory it should, but walking the streets of Madurai might change your mind if you are so inclined to think that way. I’m not, so it wasn’t a hard sale for me, and I was indeed, and still am “overwhelmed” by the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and textures of India.

On my walk today, I decided to focus on some of these smells that comprise this aromatic kaleidoscope, to push the synaesthesia metaphor a bit.

What are some of them?

Charcoal. But, you might query, we use charcoal too, right? Sure, for BBQ’s, but not for ironing your clothes.

This woman sets up shop on our street every so often with her coal-fueled iron as she takes in customers clothing to be picked up later. You will see many of these itinerant pressers, but you will smell them first, thinking perhaps it is someone burning a midden heap of trash, as is quite common.

Or, you may be smelling charcoal burning and turn the corner and find one of these contraptions in operation. 

This is a typical tandem cooker and deep-fryer. They fry things in Belgium and America too, one might say, but here you will not only add the charcoal used to heat the fires, but the various spices of cumin, garlic, cardamon, peppers, onions, turmeric, and others to the mix. Deep-fried “donuts” of chick-pea flour, infused with the above spices and vegetables is a common afternoon snack and fills the air with mouth-watering temptation. But, you will also have the quite pungent grease trap smell from the deep-fryer mixed in with all of these.

Or, something else might be burning.

Firecrackers are abundant here in Madurai, and you will hear them at all hours of the day, and night. It might be a large, singular “boom” or it could be the rapid, machine-gun fire of one of these more elaborate displays that you will hear going off on many evenings for a festival, leaving the air charged with the sulphured smoke they emit.

I have written already about the “smelly river,” which is a tributary to the main Vaigai River that cuts Madurai into the southern “old city” and the more modernized northern section. But, what about the Vaigai itself, does it smell?

Walking over the bridge today, I saw in the shallow river (not the rainy season now) the familiar sight of children playing, horses and cattle grazing, and people bathing and washing clothes. This is an instance of smells deceiving your eyes, for walking over the bridge it smells, well, like a marshy river bed, which is what you expect to see from the bridge. But, when you look down, you see a whole mini culture going on down there, punctuated by the “th-whack, th-whack” of the washer women smacking the garments on the rocks to literally “beat the dirt out” of them. So, if you just close your eyes, river, open them, look down, an entire community at work and play.

One of the most prevalent smells on a daily basis is fruit, both fresh and decaying. Banana stalls and fruit vendors dominate many of the crowded streets, as does the detrius resulting from their consumption. There is an especially noticeable smell from the garbage that I found extremely unpleasant the first couple of days and did not know what it was, until dinner one evening. It was the smell of the “taste” of a certain type of mango here. Now, the taste is not bad, but when rotting out in the sun, it can smell quite bad, and the first bite I had of the fruit nearly made me gag as it suddenly came together what that smell had been. There are no trash bags here. Instead, you dump your trash out into the street for collection. Today I saw my first trash truck taking away this load. However, without seeing such trucks until today, at some point, the trash is actually “picked up.” I have yet to see that in action, so it is quite remarkable when they are suddenly “clean.” “Clean” being a very relative usage of the word.

Another smell in the air is when you approach one of the ubiquitous sugar cane and lime presses around town. Depending upon the location, you can get a full glass of freshly-pressed juice for about 7-10 rupees, which is less than a quarter. In addition to the coconuts for about 15 rupees, this is an incredible thirst quencher, and the addition of ginger to the mixture makes not just for a good drink, but a pleasant smell to boot.

And, Madurai would not be Madurai without the sweetness. The name itself is reputed (and refuted by more hard-liner Tamils) that the name comes from Sanskrit, namely Madhu, which means sweet. Apparently Shiva shook his nectar-saturated dread-locks and sweet nectar spread about the area, and from those drops, Madurai arose out of the earth. To be sure, the flower and incense stalls here are dizzingly sweet when you walk by them. Throughout town, you will smell their wares on a perpetual basis because the majority of women wear the flowers in their hair and the temples and many shops are continuously burning the famous Madurai sandalwood.

In addition to its sister senses, the sense of smell is no less short-changed and an integral part of the full Madurai experience.