Photographic Encounter

The Ceremony We Almost Passed By

An unexpected encounter on a roadside in Odisha, India

December 11, 2018 — Near Rayagada, Odisha

We might easily have driven straight past.

I was travelling out of Rayagada, in the Indian state of Odisha, with my guide. We were on our way to visit villages of the Desia Kondh community when something beside the road caught our attention.

A small group of people was squatting near a fire.

There was nothing to announce that anything unusual was happening. No crowd of spectators, no elaborate decorations, no sign inviting strangers to stop.

My guide thought they might be performing some sort of ceremony.

That was enough to arouse my curiosity.

We pulled over, crossed the road and approached the gathering.

Two women and a man were seated near the fire. A few other people stood or sat nearby. There were offerings of fruit and vegetables, what appeared to be burning incense, and two chickens—one white, the other black—tethered to a bush.

I had no idea what the gathering was about, but nobody appeared particularly concerned by my presence or my camera.

So I stayed.

For a while, very little happened. There was a sense that everyone was waiting for something, or someone, although I couldn’t have said what.

Then one of the women began to chant.

At first, her chanting was relatively subdued. Occasionally, the man and another woman joined her. As the minutes passed, the chanting grew faster and louder.

The woman began rubbing her temple, slowly at first and then with increasing intensity. More offerings were placed on the fire. A candle burned in a small clay cup.

I was fascinated.

I had travelled through India for weeks, meeting people whose daily lives, occupations and traditions were unfamiliar to me. But this was different. I had happened upon something I couldn’t begin to explain.

And whatever it was, it appeared to be gathering momentum.

Then a young girl arrived.

She looked to be perhaps fourteen or fifteen years old. Dressed in white, she sat beside the chanting woman. I noticed what appeared to be a waxy white substance on one of her earlobes.

Was this ceremony being performed for her? Was she about to undergo some sort of initiation or blessing?

I had no way of knowing.

The chanting continued, growing more insistent.

A man brought forward the white chicken. It was held near the fire and presented to the chanting woman, who appeared to perform some sort of blessing.

Food was placed on the girl’s head, and the chicken was permitted to eat it. The process was repeated with offerings placed on her lap and feet.

At one point, the woman raised the chicken above the girl’s head.

I continued recording with my iPhone, trying to follow the sequence of events without understanding their significance.

Then I noticed another man carrying a sharp blade.

What happened next was both sudden and disturbing.

The white chicken was held near the fire. The man stepped forward and, with a swift movement, severed its head. Its blood was allowed to fall into the ceremonial fire.

The black chicken was sacrificed in a similar manner.

I was shocked.

I have always loved animals, and I place great value on life. Watching those two chickens being killed saddened me. Whatever meaning the ceremony held for the participants, I could not escape my own emotional reaction to the loss of their lives.

Yet there was another part of me that recognized something equally important.

I was a stranger, travelling through a culture whose beliefs and traditions I knew very little about. What I had witnessed was clearly part of a ritual that meant something to the people performing it, even if its significance was entirely beyond my understanding.

I could feel sadness and shock without assuming that my own perspective was the only one through which the ceremony should be understood.

And so, while I found the sacrifices upsetting, I accepted that I had witnessed something belonging to a cultural and spiritual world very different from my own.

The ceremony continued briefly. Water was poured over the young girl, who then stepped over the kneeling woman. Soon afterward, the gathering came to an end.

And just like that, it was over.

We continued our journey, but I was left with a bewildering collection of questions.

Who was the young girl? Why had she been brought to the gathering? What was the significance of the two chickens, the offerings, the chanting and the fire? What did the participants believe was being accomplished?

I could describe what I had seen, but I couldn’t explain it.

Later that day, I recorded the experience in my travel journal. It was the first animal sacrifice I had ever witnessed, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to see another.

In the years since, I have wondered about that ceremony many times.

I have spoken about it with others, hoping that someone might help me understand what I had witnessed.

No one has been able to give me an explanation.

Almost eight years later, I am still left with the same questions I had when we drove away.

Perhaps that is what has kept the encounter so vivid in my memory.

I had stopped beside the road out of curiosity. I had witnessed something that saddened and shocked me, yet I recognized that I was observing a tradition whose significance I did not understand.

I left without answers, and I still have none.

But I remember the people, the chanting, the young girl, the fire and the two chickens.

And I remember that we had very nearly driven past without stopping.