As soon as I arrived at the temple, an old man caught my eye and directed me to the inner sanctum. It was hot outside, and the sun was strong. But it was even hotter in the temple, where hundreds of festivalgoers had gathered.

Once I walked beyond the crowds and entered the dark, smoky chamber, the air was cooler, though, with scents of burning ghee and faded coconut. The Hindu god Murugan, popular among the Tamil people of Sri Lanka, was in his alcove, garlanded in flowers and lighted by dozens of tiny oil lamps. I’m not a Hindu and tend toward agnostic, but my mother was sick, and the vibes here were strong. So I prayed.

My two-week trip here last June was my second visit to the Jaffna Peninsula, a 400-square-mile expanse of Technicolor temples and arid, surreally beautiful landscapes in northern Sri Lanka that have only recently opened to tourists after a 26-year civil war. I had traveled there in 2011 to research a guidebook, but that trip had been packed with activity; this time I wanted to explore the area at my own pace. So, basing myself in a guesthouse in the capital of Jaffna on the peninsula’s southwest coast, I returned to linger in the region’s temples and visit the tiny islands offshore.

One of the first things I did was hire a car and driver and travel 10 miles to the Maviddapuram Kandaswamy Temple, where I had received a warm welcome from the priest’s family on my previous visit. Reminders of the war were all around. As we drove through the village of Maviddapuram, we passed abandoned houses; vegetation grew in former living rooms and banyan trees spilled over walls.