Row, row, row your boat...

April 8, Chennamkary
I have two new friends and roommates! Let’s rewind a bit. As soon as I saw the porch, I threw my bags to the ground and plunked my sweaty, barely breathing butt down on a chair to catch my breath. The two girls sitting there laughed at my total state of disarray and gave me a couple of minutes to rest before introducing themselves. They are both named Julia and they were both wearing the same shirt. They are also both German medical students (what is with all the Germans?) who just completed a month long internship in Vellore and had bookended their stay there with travel. They helped me bring my bags into the house where I met Lolly, the wife of the owner of the homestay. She was very pretty, about my age, and dressed in a red muumuu. She told me her husband was asleep, but assured me there were rooms available. I didn’t want to disturb Thomas, so the Julias let me put my stuff in their room and we went out for a little walk before tea. The backwater region of Kerala is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, but I guess you can sort of equate it to Venice or the bayou in Louisiana. People live and work and farm on small, mostly man-made islands (of course they were man-made a few centuries ago, so they seem pretty natural now) that sit in the middle of winding canals and open stretches of river that lie below the level of the Arabian Sea. Inland of many of the islands are rice paddies that provide the major source or employment and revenue for the people living there. It’s a fascinating way of life and I got a small taste of it as we walked along the tiny dirt path between the houses and the water. It was late afternoon, so lots of people were out, having their afternoon bath in the river, washing clothes, and just playing. All of the children in the village came out and demanded photos of themselves and we had fun talking to them and their mothers. We had to turn around pretty soon, as teatime was approaching and I was starving. Lolly makes her chai with lots of cardamom and ginger and it is absolutely delicious. We had a few cups and some cookies and Thomas came out from his nap and introduced himself. The Lonely Planet book described him as being “erudite and helpful” and I can’t think of a better description for him. He is small and attractive with glasses and a beard. He speaks perfect English, although he seemed to have a bit of trouble understanding me sometimes – maybe I talk too fast. Side note – Kerala has a 97% literacy rate throughout the state… thank you Christian missionaries. Thomas told us later though that the increasing amount of extremely educated people is leading to a decrease in the numbers of people who want to do the essential jobs of farming, mud-digging, and other manual labor that keep the way of life in the backwaters intact. It’s an interesting social problem to have. But I digress…
While we all had tea, Thomas asked us about our plans and suggested a few activities for the evening and tomorrow. He arranged a sunset canoe trip through the canals for us and a guided walk around the island for the early morning. After we finished our chai, he gave me the key to my room and we went out to the canoe that was conveniently parked right in front of the house. The three of us were seated, rather luxuriously, I thought, in our own little wooden chairs in the canoe. We had two local men as rowers (we weren’t to pay them directly , Thomas instructed, because one of them had a drinking problem, so the money was to be given to his wife). The trip was so peaceful and beautiful. All of the huge commercial houseboats that usually fill the waterways were docked for the evening, so we had an open canal to drift around on and enjoy. The Julias and I talked and got to know each other and I knew right away that I really liked them. I have been running a little low on rupees, and this homestay is the most expensive place I will have stayed in India, and I noticed earlier that they had three beds in their room. I figured I didn’t have anything to lose, so I half-jokingly suggested that the three of us share their room and cut the price way down for all of us. They discussed in German for a few minutes and said yes! I was so relieved and I also think it will be nice to have some company at night.
After a couple of hours, we returned home for dinner. What delicious food we ate! Thomas’s mother cooks and she is really good. We had – brace yourselves – vegetable curry, but this one was rich with all kinds of veggies and not too spicy, a cucumber and tomato salad with cilantro and herbs (yummy!), and poori, which is a fried poufy bread that is indescribable. After stuffing ourselves, we took turns in the shower. While I waited for my turn, I played with Anne and Anina, the two scrumptious daughters of Thomas and Lolly. We did a little dancing, a little singing, and some hand-clap games. We had so much fun! They are just the cutest little girls, Anne is six and Anina is four. You can tell that they are used to new people because they warm up to you right away. I think we are going to be good friends… they remind me of the first graders at Shanti Bhavan. After about a half hour, Anne climbed up onto my lap and whispered “I like you.” What a darling! After that, I got into the warm shower to clean off my disgustingness and now I’m sitting here practically falling asleep. I can’t wait to see more of this captivating place tomorrow.
April 9, Chennamkary
I woke up this morning in a panic. Where is my cell phone? I remembered putting into my pocket during my trudge up to the house, but I didn’t remember seeing it after that. It was about 6:30 and we were supposed to leave on our morning walk at 7:15, so I jumped out of bed and went out to retrace my steps back to the ferry dock to see if my phone was still there. My phone is pink, with a pink and white striped case, so I knew that it would be pretty easy to find if it was lying on the path. I didn’t see it, but I did come across bunches of neighbors out at the water’s edge doing their morning bathing and washing. I guess a white girl walking around staring at the ground is a fairly conspicuous sight in such a tiny village, so, of course, they all got involved in the search. I did my best to convey that I had lost a pink mobile and they did their best to assure me that if it was located, they would bring it to Thomas’ house. I guess because of the steady stream of mostly Western guests, Thomas is something of a local celebrity and everyone knows who he is and where he lives. I gave up after a few more minutes and went back to the homestay to have my morning tea. At tea, I told Thomas of my loss and he agreed to spread the word to the rest of the village and try to start a little grassroots effort to find my phone, but he suggested that I check my bags again to make sure it wasn’t there… it was. I don’t know how I missed it, but there it was, pink and reassuring in the small pocket of my backpack. I must have put it there on my walk and forgotten about it in my exhaustion. Yay!
We began our walk around the little island and Thomas told us all about the fascinating history of the backwaters, showed us local plants, took us to the rice paddy that his family owns and farms, and basically introduced us to all a typical backwaters village has to offer. Instead of eating breakfast at his family’s home, we stopped about three-quarters of the way through our tour to eat at the home of a local family that also lets out rooms for visitors. Thomas had arranged a very nice breakfast for us – duck eggs, curry, rice pancakes, tea, and cardamom cake. It was way more than we could eat, but the food was good and the husband and wife who owned the house were very gracious. On the way back, we met one of Thomas’ friends who is a toddy tapper. I think I may have talked about toddy in my entry from Munnar, but if I didn’t, toddy is a locally made spirit that comes from palm trees. Men climb up the tree and tap one of the flower shoots (this is a very loose description of this – I’m still not totally clear on how it happens). I think this involves beating the shoot of an immature flower with some sort of bone and then somehow the sap begins to flow out of the tree through the shoot and into a jug that the toddy tapper places underneath it… The morning toddy is supposed to be the sweetest and best and then it continues to ferment throughout the day. In the morning it has about the same alcohol content as beer, and by evening it has as much as wine. I tried some of the evening toddy in Munnar and I can say with complete confidence that you have to be desperate to drink that stuff. It’s thick and has a really weird, musty smell and the taste is not much better. I thought maybe the morning toddy would be better, but I tried a little that had just been taken down from the tree and it was still barely tolerable. I guess it’s an acquired taste.
The day had gotten extremely hot and humid by the end of our walk and so we were grateful to have the chance to go home, shower, and lay down for a bit. While we were lounging, people kept coming by the house to ask Thomas if I had found my phone. He hadn’t even put the word out, but those few people I met in the morning had, and the news spread like wildfire around the small town. It was really cute and endearing, knowing that I was in a place where one person’s lost property was local news. The Julias and I had intended on watching Thomas’ mother prepare lunch, but by the time we were out of the shower, she had finished. We sat down to a feast and got to know Nikki and Lottie, two British girls who had shown up while we were gone. They weren’t traveling together – Nikki was alone and Lottie was with her sister Lucy, who was taking a nap. After lunch, I had to go in search of an ATM, as I had forgotten to do so when I was in Alleppey yesterday and had no money to pay for the hotel. Thomas arranged for a rickshaw to meet me on the other side of the river and take me to the ATM that was nearby… but this is India, so of course that’s not what actually happened. I “woo-hoo”-ed for the little commuter canoe that goes back and forth between the two riverbanks and waited for it to come. Then the operator tried to shake me down for five rupees instead of the two I knew I should be paying. I met my rickshaw driver and we set out for the ATM. The one we went to was a bank that only accepted Visa debit cards, and mine is MasterCard (I had run into this problem before). There was a State Bank a few km away, but we were informed by the security guard that it was broken… I still don’t know if this was true or if he was trying to help my auto driver earn more money, but I don’t really care. We had to go to Alleppey. The first bank we saw didn’t take MC either. Then the State Bank there was out of order. The next one worked though, thank God! I had originally planned on using the internet for a bit after my bank trip, but it had gotten so late that I told him to forget it and just take me home. It was nearing tea-time when I got back to Greempalm and I sat down for a much needed refreshment. The Julias, Nikki, Lottie and I had all arranged to go on an evening canoe trip with Michael, Thomas’ younger brother and some of his friends. It was Holy Thursday, so Thomas and his family were going to be at church for the evening. We started out with a short walk around the island (Michael wanted to avoid the church because technically he was supposed to be there attending a service). He gave us some more history of the backwaters and took us along sort of the same route we had gone with Thomas that morning. It was beautiful at sunset and as the night began to descend, we made our way to a small canal where two of Michael’s friends were waiting with the canoe. We all piled in and set off along the canals. One of the main reasons we decided to go on this canoe trip was that we had been promised that Michael and his friends would sing some traditional music for us. He told us that before everyone in the region became educated and stopped wanting to do basic, traditional jobs like mud-digging and working in the rice paddies, the women who worked in the rice fields used to sing beautiful call-and-response songs similar to the slave songs that were sung in the American South. Now that things are becoming more mechanized and less dependent on people, the songs and traditions are quickly disappearing. While it is a good thing that people are educated and more able to pursue careers in more white-collar professions, it is of particular concern to Thomas and Michael that they preserve their way of life so that it is not lost. They have asked some of the older women in the village to teach them the songs they used to sing in the fields so they can pass them down to younger generations. As we drifted along the canals, taking in the beauty of the evening light and watching the local people going about their evening activities, Michael and his two friends, who were also rowing the boat, sang the songs for us. It was incredible how completely I felt transported to another place in time. It was so peaceful. After they sang a few songs, he asked if any of us had songs to share, so Lottie and I sang “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” and the Julias sang a German song. It was fun to feel so free and to be all singing and enjoying music together. All too soon we were back at the homestay and back to the present day. I had seen an Ayurvedic massage place down the road a bit from the house, and I decided to see if it would be possible to get a massage before dinner. I figured it was my last night in India (try not to panic) and I should take advantage of every opportunity I could. Of course, they were willing to stay open late for me, so I hurried down to their small shop and enjoyed a very oily massage from the warm, motherly wife of the Ayurvedic doctor. She was so gentle, and I was taken back to being a little kid, having my mom wash my hair and scrub me down after a bath. It was a nice sensation. After the massage, I was instructed to go to the bathroom and take a bath with the bucket of hot water they had prepared for me. I washed my hair and soaped up my body and marveled at how quickly all of these completely foreign things had become normal. I started feeling sad, knowing that tomorrow I would be getting on a plane, going back to the world of sanitized, hot showers and four dollar cups of coffee. After I finished my bath, I dressed and headed to the front of the shop to pay. The doctor told me that Thomas had called him and asked him to walk me back to the homestay. It warmed my heart to know that I had someone looking out for my safety and making sure I was taken care of. It wasn’t necessary, of course, but I accepted the walk home and had a nice conversation with both the doctor and his wife as raindrops started to fall on the path. By the time I got home and sat down at the table to eat the dinner that had been saved for me, the rain was coming down in sheets. I hadn’t seen a storm like this the whole time I was in India. I ate with Lolly and Anne sitting with me and watching. They are so sweet and funny. I really feel like they are family now. I sat up and watched the rain for a while and then reluctantly started repacking my stuff for the impending trip tomorrow. I can’t believe I have to leave.