Redefined Timeline

Kochi was in the southwestern part of India in the state of Kerala. The port city has been in existence since 1341, sharing the architecture of the Chinese, European and Arab influences. Colonial forts sat next to catholic churches and Muslim sites of worship. Chinese cantilevered fishing nets lined the harbor. Kochi was known for the spice trade from the Arab world. It was certainly an eclectic mix of cultures all living harmoniously together (USA take note). The climate and general atmosphere was completely different from the northern cities. Outside of the downtown area of Kochi, which was well developed, busy, and full of westernized establishments like huge car dealerships, the outskirts were laid back with a more local feel.

The flight from Goa to Kerala marked a fresh start with a new tour group. I arrived at the airport, which was a good distance from the hotel. My flight was later than the welcome meeting, so I hailed an Uber (alive and well in India), and I began my trek through the city. My driver was delightfully aggressive, making the trip in record time. There were only a couple of times when he threaded the needle through traffic with a quick beep of his horn that concerned me. Apparently, that was the signal to the other two vehicles that he was there, and to kindly treat the two-laned highway as if it were three. I felt safer than the many motorcycle drivers, who wore crocs while operating the two-wheeled automobiles. The adult passengers donned helmets, but oddly, a child would be sandwiched between them and the driver, sans helmet. Seemed logical… Drivers of the roadways would even aim head on at other cars in order to pass on the narrow avenues, but a minor bump in the asphalt would force them to come to a complete stop – bumps were tragic, but a head on collision was a minor inconvenience. It reminded me of the movie Dodgeball – “Dip, dodge, duck and dive! If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball.” Just to add to the hilarity, my Uber’s GPS was in British accented English. That was and unexpected twist.

We stayed at the Hotel Gama Heritage, a former church turned hotel which was very evident the moment I pulled up to it. I had paid for my own room for this last week in India, thankful for the peace and quiet. After unceremoniously dumping my belongings in my room, the front desk staff gave me confounding directions on how to navigate to the restaurant where my new group was currently dining. Turn left at the watertank, then right at the church (which one?!?!). Finally finding my way there, I found I was one of two new members to a group that had been together since Delhi. Thankfully, this group had not been victim to the pettiness of my previous one, and they welcomed me with ease.

Our guide, Sanna, was incredible. She was very open and honest, and gave me a lot of insight into the Indian way of life in the southern part of the country. She even gave us insight about G Adventures policies for guides in India. One of the things Sanna explained were marriage customs. Arranged marriages are very much standard in India. Sanna had a younger sister, and if her sister married before her, it would bring shame on her family, so her parents insisted she get married before her younger sibling. Sanna said she wasn’t ready, but eventually decided to go ahead and marry a close friend (now husband). Both families were initially displeased, so much so that her husband’s parents refused to attend their small wedding. The reason for the disapproved stemmed from religions – Sanna was catholic and her husband Hindu. Both families initially outright said no to the prospect of their union. His family was so upset that they cut off and ceased contact with their son. His parents also tried to force the couple to decide what religion their children would adhere to, but bucking tradition even more, neither wanted kids. Sanna said they had to hire a lawyer to push the marriage through, and they used an obscure section to maintain their religions. Sanna also insisted on keeping her job with the tour company, but it’s common for women to be forced to quit furthering their education and careers.

The following morning, we toured the seaside town of Kochi. We visited the fort, St. Francis Church, the Dutch cemetery, and the Jewish Quarter with curio shops and a synagogue that were more than 400 years old. We meandered along the harbor, trying our hands at Chinese cantilevered fishing. The results were humans flying about at the end of a rope like a fish flopping around out of water. Next, we paid a visit to their version of a do-it-yourself laundromat. Westernized washing machines and dryers didn’t exist, and we watched the swirling and rock smashing way of cleaning clothing. Burning an extreme number of calories while doing chores!

In addition to Kochi, we visited the Alleppey backwaters where we were guests at a local family’s home. Behind the main house, they had incorporated guesthouses. Don’t expect a four or five star resort, but they were clean (I think, it was hard to tell with the single bulb illuminating the room), and they had air conditioning. There was an interesting surprise, though. I scoured the room for a bathroom door, but having failed to find one, I opened the back door. Oh… there it is. The outhouse I was expecting was instead a room without walls – open air toilets took panoramic ones to a whole new level. The thrown and sink were on the patio, and the unenclosed shower head was in the middle of the (hopefully) private enough outdoor space. At least the toilet had a roof over it?? I managed okay with the unconfined utilities, I didn’t see anyone pop their heads over the walls, but what made my skin crawl were the spiders I shared the space with. At least they weren’t Australian-sized arachnids.

The proprietors of the whimsical inn made us a home cooked feast that made up for the eight-legged prowlers lurking in my “bathroom.” They also took us on a walking tour through their rice fields and explained how the brackish waters leach in and out of the fields and canals surrounding their ancient homes.

Planeterra works with G Adventures to bolster local projects. For India, it was Theruvorom Empowerment Project, which provides women from rural areas an alternative source of income by honing their hospitality and culinary skills. We watched them create the socio-economic fabric of the region after they served us up delicious traditional Kerala cuisine.

At the urging of Sanna, we rented an Indian houseboat for a backwater cruise one day. The multi-level floating device included a crew, food and an open bar. Not what I was expecting! We all had a blast, some more than others. Drunken 20-somethings on a undulating surface was quite hilarious (and perilous) to watch. Picture a toddler trying to walk straight after they’ve been spun in circles by a diabolical adult.

Varkala had to be my favorite stop in southern India. The coastal town was perched on a cliff above the Arabian Sea. A steeply winding staircase lead from the boardwalk down to the sandy beach. The boardwalk was lined with shopping stalls, cafes, and hotels. We stayed farther back from the main area in a quaint inn. My spacious roommate-free chamber was on the top floor, and it resulted in some of the best sleep I’d had in years. I spent a good chunk of time wandering through town on my own, popping in and out of kiosks. The remainder was taken up on the beach with the group basking in the sun and salty breezes, or by the pool soaking up vitamin D while reading.

At the crack of dawn after our final night out in Varkala, most of us opted to go kayaking in the backwaters. For some, it was a magnificent morning roaming the mangroves at dawn. For others, it was a poor life choice after an evening of heavy alcohol intake. I’m quite sure several of them were still drunk when we boarded the bus for the tour company’s location. For me, the humid morning paddle was refreshing! I got chastised a few times for cruising too fast, and then later for ripping off my life vest when the sweat was pouring. After weaving through the mangroves, we took a protecting their faces. Not because of the sun’s rays damaging their skin, but because those rays sent searing pain pulsing through their brains. Oh, to be 23 again…

And with that, I have FINALLY concluded my (almost) month in India! Two years later. While I do have a couple of additional posts about general India musings, I will take a break for a bit, and move on to a week in Aruba in July.

March 2024