India, Part 2 — REIFIELDTRIPPING

We have been sailing without internet so that’s why you have not heard from us! We have crossed the equator, and already been to Mauritius! More on that lovely island paradise in another post.

So, India…

I have been enchanted by India since I first heard “Within You, Without You” off of Sgt. Peppers when I was eight years old. The images filled with color, the intoxicating smells of the cooking, and, of course the music, have kept my attention over four decades before I was able to experience it firsthand.

We had a couple days in Fort Cochi, a place that is as Hazel put it, “The Hoi An of India”. Ah, she’s paying attention! She is right. It has a small village feel to it with a waterfront promenade, beautiful old trees, tons of great eating and shopping and a rich history.

We did a cooking class, visited Dhobi Khana the old Dutch laundry and tried to find a working ATM, which was a challenge unto itself.

Our hotel there was straight out of a Wes Anderson film. Built under British occupation in 1915 and kept essentially as it was, The Cochin Club is a throw back to a different era. Large Bermuda grass soccer field, billiards, “high range shooting” elephant trophies/plaques from the glory days, an office piled with worn and faded green folders full of paperwork, and lovely old trees all in a walled compound.

Meg broke her own rule and ate the “mixed vegetable” raita at an otherwise stellar meal, sending her on a special mission to experience Shiva’s revenge for the following 18 hours. She said a rather large cockroach kept her company during this journey through several past and future lives. Not sure if she was hallucinating or not. Sounded a bit like Naked Lunch to me. Nothing like a chatty roach to keep things interesting. So far I am the only one in the family that has not gotten some form of traveler’s affliction. But, Africa lay ahead so there is still time.

The CC was also our first real taste of the Indian “head bobble”. It is a high-context wiggle of the head that is just fine and decipherable when included on a simple passing hello, but perhaps one of the most vague and confusing cultural expressions when you really need to know something. For example, “Is this ice made with filtered water?” Head Bobble, Half Smile. But what does it meeeaaan? In this case it comes off as more as a shrug which I interpreted as “uh, yeah..sure..the ice is fine, why would you want filtered ice, whatever…yeah, yes. You’ll be gone before the real fun begins, so sure.” So what I saw was a big old maybe. Now since we’re one of the handful of folks staying there, it’s hard to blend in and be an invisible guest. They serve you some freshly made watermelon juice, with ice, and wonder why nobody at your table is drinking it. Do I ask them for no ice? I can promise you that they are not going to make you a new one. They are going to take the ice out and serve you the juice with some of that melted in once ice not just water. It’s real hot, and cool watermelon juice taste good in the AM… So, after several other inquiries about the ice and more head bobble confirmations/denials of the cleanliness of the ice along with looks of “why so many questions about the ice?”, and a confirmation from another guest that indeed he said the ice was made with filtered water followed by a “but I don’t want to be responsible for your potential 3 days in the bathroom, so don’t take my word for it” we drank the iced watermelon juice. It was delicious.

We used the hotel as a home base for some wandering and snacking on the local treats. Atticus crashed recess for some local school kids who were playing soccer on a sandy field. The kid has guts. They were very interested in his hair and eyes. I almost got heatstroke just watching them play, so I can’t imagine how they felt playing in long pants, shirts and ties. Mostly they played in socks.

Our cooking instructor in Cochi. My family said she was the Indian version of my mom/Grammy.

After Meg rebounded, we headed to an overnight backwaters trip on a houseboat departing from a small village called Kumarakom. The ride there encompassed at least 3 near, and I mean really near head-on collisions, 15 not head-on but near bumper to bumper clips, the near deaths of 13 dogs, 9 senior citizens on bikes, 5 mothers and the children they were holding, and countless saree-clad women sitting side-saddle on the backs of Royal Enfield motorcycles. Miracles are real and we didn’t die or kill anyone. In fact it’s just the way of the road.

On that ride we also stopped at no less than three ATM’s to try and get rupees. Between them being out of money and my card being repeatedly being declined, even after multiple verification calls to Chase. Fortunately, Megan is real smart like and had us order back-up cards from another bank so we eventually found some cash, even if it was withdrawn seventy bucks at a time.

The backwater houseboats are not totally unlike the one we took on the Mekong, but have their own thing that is decidedly Indian in appearance. We had the whole boat to ourselves along with the captain and cook. It was a great way to see the landscape and people who live along and depend on the water as well as an excellent opportunity to see a dozen or more species of birds that call the region home. Kingfishers, kites, cranes, pelican looking birds, ibis, and many more. Witnessing the kite, a huge hawk/eagle-like bird with a white head and burnt sienna back and wings grab eels from the water was a highlight. Lunch was a delicious affair, followed by what I thought was a rather lengthy doing of the dishes by the crew. Atty reported that they were actually both asleep. No problem.

We docked for the eve and took a stroll through a local village. People were friendly and kids interested in knowing our names and if we had pens. If you go to India, take pens. This simple thing seems to be in high demand. Had I known, my kitchen work area at home would be so much more organized.
Dinner was a delicious chicken curry, veggies, sambal, chapati. This guy would be a hero in the states if he opened a restaurant.
In the AM we set off for another cruise. More birds and scenes of morning rituals filled the time. Our driver Sateesh was there when we got off the boat and took us on yet another normal to him, insane to us ride to our next destination. At one point Megan asked him to stop at a pharmacy. (See her India entry for a description and pics)
While waiting I looked over to see him pop open a 1.75 liter bottle of Absolute vodka and take a big slug. I literally laughed out loud and ask him if it was standard fare for drivers to have a cocktail while working. He said “No, No, No, water!” He said plastic made water taste bad after a day or two, so he liked the glass instead. Makes sense. Maybe a different choice of vessel for the tourists. I had him pose for a couple of staged pics for the memory book. He was a good sport.

It is just about the halfway point on the trip and we decided to get ourselves into a stay at the Marari Beach Resort. Yes, it’s nice. The food was outstanding, the grounds filled with dozens of varieties of native trees, a butterfly garden, hammocks and the Arabian Sea. The water was about 90F and had some fun body surfing waves. It also had some dolphins and much to our delight some huge scary eels. I like to eat eel at sushi restaurants, but not so much having them squiggle around next to you in the water. They are way faster when they’re not on a plate.

Atticus and I got our India catch in on the beach, Hazel and Megan did yoga with an 85 year old yogi, both kids had henna done, swam, rode bikes around the village, and enjoyed each other’s company. When we are on the ship and not doing our studies, the kids are generally off with their friends hanging out, playing sports, eating with their college student friends, working out, etc., so we don’t actually see them as much as we do at home. They’re living the dream.

I was lucky enough to sit down with a master tabla player for a chat that turned into an hour and half music lesson. He had a harmonium there to practice on and I had a metal drum I had purchased in Cochi. There are some similarities and overlap to western music theory and other concepts that are quite different. We went through some ragas, traditional Indian songs, talked story, politics and played some music. Paul McCartney had been there a few years back and he shared stories of their hangs. Awesome. This is Benny.

While we were visiting there was a once yearly Hindu festival at the local temple. We went on what I understood to be the last day of the fest, called “Shiva Day”. Our “Auto” driver, guided us through the grounds, introducing us to friends and family and giving us an overview of the proceedings. It was a privilege to be there and it was so mysterious, mystical, exotic and magical. Atty managed to find a Rubik’s cube and solved it to the delight of a gathered crowd. Then he made some friends and played some ball. See the theme here? Kids and a ball all around the world.