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….”!
