My First Crib

 

My First Crib

I was about four or five years old when my mother took me to see a crib – the first crib that I saw and one that I remember vividly to this day. In those days, we lived in the coastal town of Calicut. The town is best known as the place where Vasco da Gama landed in the fifteenth century and where the British later ruled. Today, little of the early western influences remain in the town except on the sea front where the vessels are still referred to as ‘pattau mare’ (bateau mer).

Calicut was one of the gateways to the Western Ghats. In the years leading to Independence there were several Englishmen and Europeans living and working in the town. Their interests were in the tea and coffee gardens of the high ranges, the spice markets of Calicut and the fact that Malabar was one of the most developed regions in the former Madras Presidency. 

 In the late nineteenth century the Italian Jesuits build what was then considered a very large church almost on the Calicut beach and named it the Mater Dei Cathedral. The Italian influence in this church was pronounced – the steps leading to the main entrance, the dome and finally the Bernini touch on the pillars of the pastoral canopy and seat. The crib was clearly a part of the church furnishings and must have been shipped out to Calicut together with the vestments, church plate and other equipment essential for the conduct of votive services during the liturgical year. When set up, it occupied the space of an entire altar on the northern side of the church and re-created in fine detail the entire town of Bethlehem.

As a little child I had no idea that this was a picturisation of the place where Christ was born – what attracted me most was the layout of a whole mountain village – there were homes, there were taverns, there were people on the move, there were donkeys and there were lights inside the doll-size  structures. You were able to see people in their homes and people eating and drinking in the taverns . There was a tiny rivulet flowing down the hill side with little bridges and sheep drinking water at the bottom of the hill. There was real grass on the hillside and cattle resting after a good meal. Everything  came alive as you watched the scene. It was a real wonderland and for a five year old it was an unforgettable experience. In one corner of the huge crib was a foot high statue of an angel holding a little purse – there was a slot in the purse for dropping  coins and each time someone dropped a coin, the angel would nod with a tiny tinkle as if to say ‘thank you’. I recall dropping  two one pice coins – the second pice was just to see the angel nod once again.

A couple of years later I began my education the school adjacent to this church. I waited eagerly for Christmas  hoping to see the crib displayed once again. The crib was never put together again – it was never displayed. The angel was nowhere to be seen.

Memories of the crib stayed with me and came alive year after year. When I visited Jerusalem I realised that the crib in the Mater Dei Church was as close to the perfect picturisation that anyone could ever expect of the birthplace of Christ – Bait Lahem. 

A few years ago, the Mater Dei Church was repaired and renovated – once again I hoped that the crib would surface and that the angel would nod in appreciation of a rupee or two – that was a foolish wish – in its place the Church was decked with cheap Chinese Christmas decorations and mass produced crib figures with abundance of colour and little character. The angel had a better destiny – re-engineered, it was on the cloud and on YouTube just waiting for a click.…. “Angels we have heard on high….”!