The Land of Coconut Trees

Twelve Days Back: I spent an extra day in Pondicherry because after 4-5 hours of running around town and waiting in various lines and talking with various people, I'd concluded that there was no way at all to travel southbound until a day later than I'd planned. How could this be? you ask. There must have been some way unexplored. The answer is simple: Oonam. This 10 day festival takes place in Kerala (state on the western coast) and is such that all people who once lived there come flooding back to celebrate with their families. Thus Tamil Nadu--Kerala's neighboring state--is effected in that all southward going transport is booked weeks in advance, particularly trains. Oonam. I passed this extra day being an extra for a TV commercial advertising a local magazine. This translated to free lunch, an afternoon spent with young people, a few rounds of cards, some standing around and posing happily arm in arm with a German guy and 1000 rupees pay. Stellar.
En route to Kanniyakumari, the overnight bus hit gridlock traffic multiple times and we were some 4 hours delayed in reaching Nagercoil making a total of about 18 hours on buses for me. Oonam.

Eleven Days Back: Kanniyakumari sits at the southern most tip of India where the Bay of Bengal, the Indian Ocean and the Arabian Sea meet and you can see sunrise and sunset with a simple turn of the head. I won't downplay the awesome-ness of its location; I'm not sad I went there. However, once the initial excitement over the geography of the place wares, there's really not a reason in reach to be there. Thus after a sunset, dinner and conversation with Carl--a really nice british guy who seemed to share my every opinion about India and life in general, and I his--and a sunrise, I was on my way.

Ten Days Back: Kovalam Beach was a much better fit. I got there by bus and ran into some heavy traffic along the way. Oonam. Ah well, I was happy to have arrived anyway--masses of coconut trees and sandy beaches were there to welcome me and it was breath of fresh air; even the fact that it was a bit touristy was a welcome change. And the pollichanthu fish was finger-lickin' good (I left nothing on the banana leaf but bones and eyeballs).

Eight Days Back: On to Varkala. I had my first train ride to get there and it was...unforgettable. Long story halfway short, I had confused some information that I'd gotten from someone before I left about what class ticket I should buy because the terminology wasn't what I thought and ended up riding what I now believe to be '2nd class ordinary'. Translation: the lowest of the low. Not only that, but I discovered later after exiting that of the two cars designated for this ticket, one was mostly women and I'd gotten on the other one. It was a wonder I even got on at all. How could I have overlooked this?! Oonam! It was an absolute mob scene to board and somehow I managed to push my way in far enough to be swept up luggage and all through the tiny doorway. I learned from one of the fellows three inches from my face that there's no limit to the number of tickets sold for 2nd class ordinary so once you purchase a ticket, it then becomes your job to make it on however you can. Luckily my ride was short--only an hour or less--because squeezing in with 20-some men (I counted those I could see by craning my neck) in the narrow space between the two halves of the car was less than comfortable. No one could budge an inch. Exiting at my stop proved even more difficult than getting on in the first place and lucky for me once again, the people around me were very nice and spotted my stop and gave me and my bags the hefty shove we required to remove ourselves from the mess against the new crew of people trying to force their way on. Though Oonam has now come to an end (finally), that will be my only stint with 2nd class ordinary rail travel.
Moving on, Varkala is a place no traveler can possibly dislike. The tourist strip of guesthouses, ayurvedic centers, restaurants and shops is perched along the dge of breathtaking red cliffs which slope down to moss covered rocks and beach below. Though it is a tourist strip, it seems just to offer what you need all in a nice row without being obnoxious or imposing less a few call for your business from shop owners. I can't imagine tiring of admiring the cliffs in the changing light--in fact, I stayed an extra night just to continue doing so.
My first day there I had a deja vu and then another one shortly after (does that make it a squared or something?). A french woman I'd spoken to briefly in Kanniyakumari walked right into the restaurant where I was sipping my pineapple juice and watching the sun go down. She joined me for a chat and then later that evening I almost literally ran into the isreali brothers I'd spent a short time going around with the same day as I'd first met the french woman! Weird. One of the brothers and another isreali couple who we had dinner with were in the habit of doing yoga as well so we all met the next couple of mornings to practice--lovely to have company for that.
The following night, another Indian home opened its doors to me (that makes 3 now-does this sort of thing happen in the US I wonder?). A really outgoing, young and talkative (even more than the rest) Indian guy named Manu invited me for dinner after only a 5 minute conversation. That night he and his two roommates showed me and a french couple (Manu had met them later the same afternoon) how to make chapati and chicken masala curry from scratch. Manu's roommate Atol said I was better at making chapati than he was and swore I must have had prior experience--maybe in another life :) After lots of laughs, I left with a full stomach impressed all the more by the hospitality and generosity offered to me no questions asked.
The following day I realized that I'd been slacking on my alternative medicine research and decided it was time for my first ayurvedic massage. An hour and half and copious amounts of oil later, I felt relaxed if a bit greasy. Although the rub down was enjoyable for sure, I think I prefer Thai style which does a better job of kneading, stretching and pounding out my muscles. Still, the ayurvedic massage is worth a second go 'round to double check it.

Five Days Back: Next was Allepey, a jumping off place for Kerala's crown jewel--the backwaters. Over a shaky skype connection, I had arranged for a homestay with a family on Chennamkarry island. I was skeptical of Mathew's directions "once you're off the ferry walk 5 minutes until you see a 2 story house and that's the one" but sure enough, once I left the boat, there was only one way to go and the big house stood out like a sore thumb (much like me in this country I suppose). The homestay was costing me quadruple what I'd been paying for a night's stay but it included all meals (home cooking!) and tea and aside from that, I knew within the first couple of hours it'd be priceless anyway. When I arrived Mathew, a 30-some year old indian guy who speaks excellent english (such a luxury!) and is somehow both shy and outgoing greeted me warmly and called for lemon ginger juice (yum!). I dropped my things just in time for afternoon tea. Mathew and I talked for an hour or two about many things-of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings (name that movie anyone?) and also about backwater life and what it was like to grow up there and Indian healthcare and politics. I learned a lot so I will put some info for those interested parties in a separate document which I haven't yet written and will update this post to include it when I have (see blog posted in October entitled 'um woops'). Meanwhile, Mathew's brother's 2 really cute girls were busy putting sugar in their tea by the fistful--literally (reminds me of someone...). At around 6:00 Mathew took me by canoe and motorbike to try Toddy (it had come up in conversation). As we whizzed along, the sun was setting across the rice paddies behind the coconut trees and struck me as one of those sundowns you catch by accident and it's more spectacular than the ones you watch on purpose. But I digress; toddy is an alcoholic drink extracted by the toddy tappers from the flower shoots of coconut trees. When it's taken out by these skilled tree climbers (amaxing to watch them scurry up a trunk), it's already 2% alcohol by volume and over the course of only two days it ferments itself up to 12%. We ordered one form that morning and one from the previous day and sipped them in the toddy hut as we continued our conversation. Not everyone enjoys this beverage due to its pungent smell--even Thomas can't really stomach it, but I didn't mind the odor though it was a little vinegary (toddy will turn into vinegar if left and can be used for cooking). To me the milky white drink tasted faintly of apple cider and I quite liked it (much to everyone's amusement I think.)
The next day began slowly; with Thomas's directions I took a walk and then a bike ride through the villages, along the canals and by the rice paddies. In the afternoon, after a delicious lunch, more travelers arrived and we were all having tea when one of the authors of Lonely Planet stopped by on a house boat to update the info on the place. We pulled out our guide books after he left and sure enough, there was his picture and a funny little blurb on pg 21 in the 'authors' section! Later on, Mathew took me and the two english girls and the french couple who had arrived on a walk around, explaining things as we went. This is how we learned that 'Kera' means coconut tree and thus 'Kerala'= land of the coconut trees! It's aptly named for sure. What I'd seen of the state from the south up was packed to the brim with then and the backwaters were no different. From the canals, they're all you can see unless you look closely and then rooftops poke through here and there and glimpses of the encased rice paddies can be had. It was a hazy twilight as we were making our way along and just turning dark as we boarded the canoe waiting to take us back to the house. We drifted through the water under a clear starry sky and Mathew and the canoe driver entertained us with songs passed down through families from people of the lowest caste--essentially slaves. Their voices boomed over the flat water in Malayalam --Kerala's native language (it's a palindrome in case you didn't notice and I think that's such a perfect quality for the name of a language to possess.) The songs were wonderfully rich to hear and transported us back to the time, not so long ago, when the caste system was strong in Kerala. As a state, Kerala is very progressive--one of the main underlying reasons I think, why travelers take to it--but sadly, in other parts of India, caste still determines status and opportunity. Almost home, we drifted by a shack on the side of the canal and Mathew spoke to the man there who then popped inside, came out, and hustled along the bank to catch up to us and hand over... a Jackie Chan movie--the place was a video rental shop! It's small happenings such as this one that prompt this wide spread description of India: "It's like no place you've ever been before or have yet to ever go."
That evening, we all learned donkey (a Keralan card game), the next morning we had a long bike ride and after lunch, I was on my way, sad to go, but eager to explore the next place.

Three Days Back: Fort Kochin's windy cobblestone streets greeted me on arrival after a ferry, a bus ride, an autorickshaw, another ferry and a good bit of walking. 2 nights there were just enough to appreciate those streets and buildings with their leftover traces of dutch influence. During my stay, I also picked out a couple prawns and a butterfish just plucked from the sea by the fishmongers and had them cooked up straight away oozing with garlic and lemon. Yum. Later I attended a Kathicali traditional dance show which kept my attention more due to its oddity than anything else, but keep my attention it did. Men with loads of makeup on in costumes with big headdresses and bigger hoop skirts using odd twitchy facial expressions and hand gestures to communicate will generally hold one's gaze. (Find me later for the video footage.) Fort Kochin was my last stop in Kerala and though the land of the coconut trees had treated me well, I was ready for a change of climate and I'd heard that's just what was in store for me in Ooty.