Palm Sunday in Munnar

Barbara Harvey (née King) 1913 - 1983

Palm Sunday has a special significance for me and for my two sisters. 

In 1983, our mother collapsed walking back from the shops, a few months before her 70th birthday, and died in hospital, the following day. Like my father, and like myself today, she was involved with Lincoln Cathedral, and her last project had been to help to make the palm crosses for Palm Sunday. Hence I always remember her on this day in the church calendar. 

This year I am in India, and the Christians hae been making a very public show of their faith.

Christian worshippers carrying palm fronds, flocked through the streets to receive a blessing

Last week the elephant in was much in demand back at Ezhupunna, as various Hindu temples hired the well-trained, ceremonial animal for their festivals - which went on most nights till 5 in the morning. Today it's been the turn of the Christians who flocked the streets of Munnar to celebrate Palm Sunday in a rather more quiet fashion.

Girls and their mothers, both in their Sunday-best, carrying the traditional palm fronds pass a beggar who seizes the opportunity of a Christian holy day to try and beg a few extra coins.

Traditional Indian Sunday-best can be a brightly-coloured saree or salwar kameez. The latter combines ankle-length, and often tight-fitting leggings, worn under a long-sleeved, (and usually) knee-length dress. For church this is frequently paired with a dupatta (shawl) that will cover the head as a sign of reverence, either in male company or in church.

Western dress is equally popular, often combined with a Spanish-style mantilla shawl covering the shoulders or head.

The crowds came down from the Mount Carmel Church on the hill, and grouped in front of the "town church" of St Michael, where the priest sprinkled the gathering of the faithful with holy water.

Later that afternoon, I joined the tiny congregation at Christ Church. 
Here the service was the traditional Book of Common Prayer liturgy and the building was just as English itself, with brass plaques all around the walls commemorating British officials and tea estate managers who had spent their lives far from their country of birth.