As promised (or warned), here is the remaining half of the epic tale about our travels through India.
Even my lunch looked happy:
Kerala
Kerala, a state located on the southern-most tip of the subcontinent, is a veritable paradise with an abundance of palm trees, tea plantations, rice paddies and other tropical greenery. Given our fondness of all things tropic, it was a no-brainer for Aman and I to put this one on the itinerary. We teamed up with good friends Brian and Leslie, who hiked 30+ hours (each way) to join us from Brasil for this leg of the trip.
The tour kicked off with a flight to, and one-night stop in, Cochin, a coastal town in the north of the state. Our driver, Jose (not José), took us to some nearby points of interest, the hands-down favorite of which were the Chinese fishing nets. These were constructed over 100 years ago and, although no longer operational, the size and elegance of the nets still makes for a terrific sight.
We next traveled to Munnar, a popular hill station located a few hours inland. At its highest elevation, the region sits at almost 9,000 feet above sea level. As we drove, the straight highway eventually turned into a twisting road that brought us into and over the foothills. We climbed and climbed until, basically, it felt as though we were going to fall off the side of the mountain. In every direction, we were surrounded by rows and rows of exquisitely manicured tea plants. None of us had ever seen anything like this before, and it was positively breathtaking.
The next day, at a local's suggestion, we decided to take in a local cultural dance-drama and martial arts performance…. wait, we did what?? DOH!! How could we collectively make such a rookie mistake?? It was not the best decision. I wont get into all the boring details, but let’s just say that we all agreed that the martial arts performance was the better half of the experience… and this was the same over-choreographed segment that gave us such cleverly named demos as “three snakes battle two lizards,” and “frog leaps over tiger.” About 30 minutes in, Brian (fairly) remarked that he was ready for fork versus beer bottle… (Note, we don't mean to imply that these cultural shows are inherently bad. Aman and I actually saw a much better version of the local dance-drama when we got held up in Kovalam a few days later. While in Munnar, however, we got sucked into what felt like a tourist mill and the shows felt contrived.)
We left the following morning for Thekkady, which was also an interesting experience. On that day in particular, we were warned that a statewide strike would be taking place. (When I asked why people were striking, I was told it was an issue between two states over the nearby dam… there was a “dam problem.”) Under these circumstances, all businesses close and it is unsafe to be on the roads between 6 a.m. and 6 p.m. From what we understand, protestors will not bother traffic if a group of cars travel together in a caravan. However, for the lone calf lost from the herd, protestors may throw rocks and/or (I love this one) physically block the road while another group removes all the air from the car’s tires. To avoid any shenanigans, we got up at 3 a.m. to join a caravan out of Munnar and made it to Thekkady by 6 a.m. It was quite exhilarating.
After an invigorating round of good naps, we spent the day at Periyar Nature Reserve, which was very cool. From our tour boat, we spotted several species of animals including, the crowd favorite, elephants.
We continued on to Kumarakom for a night, stopping only once to buy dhotis for Brian and Aman. A dhoti is basically a loincloth worn by Hindu men in India, especially Kerala. Here are a few pictures of Jose showing Aman how to sport one. The last picture says it all.
From Kumarakom, we moved on to Alleppey for the quintessential Kerala experience – renting a houseboat for a night to channel the “backwaters.” (The “backwaters” are an extensive network of interlocking channels, canals and lakes that dominate Kerala’s western coast.)
We arrived at the dock around noon with a case of Kingfisher beer. We took a right at the “please no outside beverages or alcohol” sign, and quickly found our boat. In a matter of minutes, our driver had us among the fleet of other houseboats that were cruising across the open waters of Lake Vembanad, the largest lake in Kerala. When we reached the opposite shore, we stopped briefly for lunch, which was served on the boat. By this point, we were all positively giddy. Houseboats floating lazily by us, smaller boats ferrying workers to and from the bright green rice paddies, palm trees lining the canals - it was spectacular.
Shortly after lunch, we got moving again. Brian, Leslie and I sat on the outer deck, soaking it in, as Aman went in search of the sound system. Minutes later, I heard the sound of some house music that we had picked up in Goa. Aman appeared shortly thereafter with a terrific grin on his face. “Look out, everyone,” he said. “Here comes the HOUSE-boat!!”
We navigated through a series of canals towards one of the small fishing villages that lined the shores so we could secure some extras for dinner. When we came ashore, we disembarked the boat (via a 1x4” plank of wood) to find some of the hugest, most amazing looking prawns I have ever seen:
Back on the boat, we made our way through even more canals towards the spot where the boat would rest for the night. (All of the boats throw anchor around 6 p.m., when the local fishermen put their nets down for the night.) By then, it had started getting late and the footpaths lining the canals were abuzz with everyday life – children riding bicycles, a man in a tree collecting coconuts, women in sarees with babies on their hips talking casually to each other, and this young boy who was doing his laundry at the edge of the water:
We woke up early the next morning (to a beautiful day) and, after a quick (but delicious) breakfast, made our way back to the dock where we began. The morning scene was a fantastic mix of people on shore washing clothes or utensils, and bathing in the water. And locals in passing boats, waving good morning as they made their way to the fields. It was a priceless experience.
We spent the next two nights at a beachside resort in Kovalam, which was a perfectly relaxing way to end our Kerala trip with Brian and Leslie. (Of course, Aman and I would wind up spending another night in Kovalam after we got stopped on our way to Sri Lanka, but we've already covered that mishap.)
Bangalore – Pondicherry
Bangalore is best-known as India’s IT capital and, perhaps less so, the place that gave comic inspiration to such great American films as Outsourced. More importantly, it is where Aman’s sister, Ashu, lives with her husband, Manish, and son, Kabir. Knowing that we would not get to see them again when we returned to Delhi after our travels in Goa, Mumbai, Kerala and Sri Lanka, we added a (too) brief, four-night stay in Bangalore to the itinerary. We were excited that Aman’s mom had decided to be there at the same time.
We got in late on a Saturday night, thanks in part to my issues trying to clear immigration at the Bangalore airport, which added an extra hour of travel time. (Compared to the time it took us to clear through immigration at Trivandrum, this was nothing.) Despite the hour, Ashu, Manish, Kabir, and Mom were all up and eagerly awaiting us at home. As Aman and I ate a late-night, home-cooked meal of aloo ghobi, chole, and chapati, we strategized about plans for our visit. It was agreed that we would devote day one to shopping, dining, and touring the city – the triad of activity for any out-of-town experience.
For days two and three, we planned an over-night road trip to Pondicherry. Pondicherry is located on India’s east coast, about 165 kilometers south of Chennai. It was one of the last territories returned (by the French in 1954) to India, after she gained her independence from the British in 1947. Today, this coastal town on the Bay of Bengal still has a noticeable French feel, which is reflected in everything from the architecture to the street names to the local cuisine.
We had a great time, strolling along the rocky beach and especially playing with Kabir in the rooftop pool at our hotel.
The real highlight of our stay in Pondicherry, however, was a side-trip to nearby Auroville, a small town founded in 1968 that boasts a current population of about 2,000 people. The town (its purpose, to realize human unity) was built around a 100-year old banyan tree that spans more than 50 meters in diameter.
A popular destination for those seeking a higher consciousness, Auroville’s main draw is a meditation center known as the Matrimandir, a giant sphere covered in gold discs whose design was inspired by the sun. The sphere is surrounded by red sandstone laid in a lotus-like pattern and, beyond, several gardens. It’s a brilliantly tranquil sight. We unfortunately did not get inside (space is extremely limited, and a one-day advance reservation is required to enter), but we did catch some amazing views from the lookout point.
Scenes from our drive home included colorful Ashok Leyland trucks, the ubiquitous Piaggio tuk-tuk, clusters of bananas and coconuts hanging from roadside fruit stands, and wooden carts led by bright-horned bulls.
Delhi (again) – Amritsar
When we returned to Delhi in early February, the theme was good deeds.
Our first project began with the idea of donating school supplies to young children. This was something we talked about doing even before arriving in India. But, we fell behind on execution due to lack of a strategic plan. What kind of supplies – pens, pencils, notebooks? Where will our contribution make a difference? How do we identify children in need? How do we deliver the goods? So many little details to sort through...
Thankfully, one of Aman’s mamis, Nivedita, is a teacher at Mount Abu Secondary School in Delhi and she was able to provide us with loads of helpful information. She also put us in touch with another teacher, Dr. Suman, who – through a program initiated by Mount Abu’s principal and owner, Jyoti Arora – volunteers her time in a nearby slum, and knew the teacher at a NGO-sponsored school for children living there. With the help of these amazing women (and also, Aman’s Rajeev mama, who not only helped us procure the supplies at a wholesale market in Old Delhi, but also helped in hauling them for distribution), we were able to visit the class of 35 students and give them all new backpacks (a relative luxury item for these children). It was an incredibly rewarding experience.
For our second good deed, we held a bhandara, which involved providing hot meals to the hungry in a tented service area that we set up on the side of the road. This is something that Aman’s family has done before, and it is not uncommon for others in India to do the same (Aman’s cousin, Tanu, told me that, up the road from our bhandara, one local man sets up a tent and feeds the hungry once a week, every week).
The morning of our bhandara, we got up very early and went to Pitampura, the neighborhood in Delhi where we set up shop. Aman’s family had bought 100 kilos of flour and 100 kilos of potatoes, among other ingredients, and hired a small group of men to help with the cooking. After hours of preparation, it was noon and we had ginormous vats of potato curry, halwa and poori ready to be served for lunch.
In retrospect, I feel slightly foolish for asking Aman, days earlier, how the hungry people of Delhi would know that we were giving away a hot meal. They came in droves – men, women and children of every age. Some brought plastic bags and carried away extra servings for co-workers or children. Others came back for second, third and even fourth helpings. Apart from that, we served about 900 plates of food.
The next day, after all of our good deeds had been done, we got up early (again) for one last get away from Delhi – this time, a six-hour rail trip north to Amritsar. Aman, Rajeev mama, Nivedita mami and I set out for the Delhi railway station around 6:00 a.m. This being my second time on the shatabdi (express train), I was feeling like an old pro. As we approached the station house from the parking lot, I expertly put my hand out to stop oncoming traffic and, when I saw that my gesture had worked, I bobbled my head twice for good measure. Aman laughed, shook his head, and told me that I had been in India for too long.
By the time we reached Amritsar, haggled with a tuk-tuk driver, found our hotel and grabbed lunch (a delicious Indian meal of tender butter chicken, pasta filled with paneer and dates in a cream sauce, daal, and assorted rotis and naan), the afternoon was getting late. Our agenda for the day was to go to Wagah border. Here, a rather energetic ceremony takes place every evening on the India-Pakistan border when the respective Border Security Forces of each country lower their flags for the night. This was one of the coolest things that I saw in India. On each side of the border, huge grandstands have been erected for the crowds to gather and watch as the countries each open their security gates for about fifteen minutes and carefully retrieve their flags from the posts. On the India side, the stands were packed, and the people shouted exuberantly in an awesome display of national pride.
We couldn’t all help but notice that the stands were relatively empty and rather quiet on the Pakistan side....
After the Indian flag had been brought indoors for the night, the crowd dispersed and we made our way back to the car. Along the way, we passed lines and lines of some colorful and very photogenic-looking Pakistani trucks waiting to cross the border.
Most of the trucks were covered but, of the few that were not, we could see sacks and sacks of potatoes or red onions poking out above the rim of the open containers. I guessed that it took “forever” for the thousands of trucks to clear the border, but our driver told us that each truck and respective crew would only wait one-and-a-half days before being allowed to proceed.
From the border, we went straight to the Golden Temple, perhaps the most famous attraction in Amritsar and a very important pilgrimage site for the Sikhs. I cannot even begin to find the words to describe how beautiful the temple was, so I am shamelessly going straight to the photos on this one.
We went back early the next morning to watch a ceremony that takes place every day at 4:30 a.m., and stayed for three hours. (Note, wear extra warm clothing. Shoes and socks are prohibited inside the temple grounds, so you have to fight an uphill battle to stay warm in the early pre-dawn hours. I lost said battle...)
Later in the day (after we thawed out for four hours), we visited Jallianwala Bagh, which is an amazing place (in a solemn way) when you think about the history that took place there. For those unfamiliar with it, Jallianwala Bagh is the courtyard where General R. E. H. Dyer, a senior officer in the British Indian Army, entered through the only entrance/exit to the courtyard in 1919 and ordered his troops to open fire on an unarmed, defenseless crowd of nonviolent demonstrators. With no way of escaping the massacre (approximately 1,650 rounds were fired), hundreds of people were killed. Today, the brick walls are still pocked with bullet marks from that horrific day.
I spent the entire way back from Amritsar to Delhi on the train writing in my journal while Aman scoured through half a dozen newspapers and a handful of magazines. The next day, we were leaving for Indonesia. My nine-week trip to India was coming to an end. Nine weeks! It went so fast! Part of me fears that these posts on India don’t even come close to scratching the surface of our experiences there. But they are, what they are. It’s easy to give India a bad rap for all of its faults, but that's true of most anything. If you can look past the imperfections, you will discover, in many forms – from the food to the people to the traditions, the colorful landscapes, the amazing history and the diversity of culture – that India has a tremendous amount of beauty, and I feel very fortunate to have seen so much of it over this extended period of time.
Namaste India.
