My native village's greatest claim to fame is the festival of St. George in early May. Chandanapally literally means the abode of sandalwood trees but I dont ever remember seeing one there. But in my childhood it had an abundance of paddy fields and cashew trees and banana farms and what not - now the paddy fields lie uncultivated while ubiquitous rubber trees have replaced less profitable cash crops. However, it continues to be a pristine and quiet place, and the influx of NRI money hasnt really changed the landscape (save for two-storeyed bungalows that replaced old houses, even mud houses) or the ways of its inhabitants.
The
valiapally or the big church of Chandanapally continues to draw people from the neighbouring towns even today though most churches in the region swear by St. George (the patron saint of England himself) who slew the dragon snake. As a village which once had snakes of myriad shapes and venom crawling all over the place, its residents reposed its faith in the saint to save them from not just snakes but ghosts, demons and other dangers that lurked in the darkness. I wonder where all the ghosts vanished now but I guess Chandanappally was more wooded and the people less literate some 30 years ago.
Well, the people of Chandanapally believe that St. George did visit this village and the kuthirapura (stable) and the water trough for the horse stands testimony to this. A cross carved out of a single rock graces the stable premises now.
From the time I can remember, the church had to share its festival revenue with the local Malankara Catholic church, constituted by a breakaway faction from the 'Valiapally' Orthodox Church. The Catholic church held its festival on May 6-7 and the Orthodox church on 7-8. But even the Catholic parishioners (save for a handful of hardcore ones) did not fail to visit the valiapally on May 8 and make offerings.
All non-resident Chandanapallians made it a point to come on vacation during the perunnal season. For many thinking people, the farce that goes in the name of perunnal no longer holds much attraction.
The gimmicks that characterised each perunnal was there this year too - a movie actor to attract crowds, a dozen holy patriarchs to hold the Mass, fireworks, music concert/drama and beleive it or not, a helicopter from the newly designated airport at Aranmula (claimed to be the first flight from there) showering flowers on the crowd below. The death of the church secretary in an accident in the days preceding the perunnal did not deter the festivities.
Once upon a time, I waited for each perunnal with excitement - that was when I could get my mom to buy me bangles, plastic watch, plastic toys and crackers from the stalls outside the church. This year I got my children balloons, a flute and a drum - all broken in a matter of an hour.