If ethnography is the “writing of culture”, then it must also include the perspectives of the researcher, embedded in specific cultural contexts and working to make some narrative sense out of many bits and pieces of confusing and sometimes contradictory information. When I began this research in India in 2012, I had initially set out to study the construction of deity altars in Hindu homes contrasted with deity care in temples. I knew that this kind of work would require a fair degree of long-distance traveling as well as what Clifford Geertz refers to as “deep hanging-out” when it came time to visit individual homes and spend time with local families. Fortunately, attempting something as vague and imprecise as hanging out was quickly expedited by the amount of work that always needs to be done in households full of children and extended relatives. As I helped cook evening meals, offered to assist with the care of the household deities, and did my best to distract rambunctious children or feed hungry animals, I quickly found warm welcomes in many different places. It was then, in a village in West Bengal, that I first encountered Shaligrams.

The first time I heard the term “Shaligram”, I was almost dismayed that, despite several years of studying religion in South Asia, I had never heard of such a thing before.