Our three-day travel weekend to Kerala began with a goodbye to Louella. It was the last time we'd see her since she left Saturday while we were in Kerala, so she, Thanuja and Eileen joined the Oklahomans for dinner at where else? Darlings! If you tasted the rich and savory curries at this vegetarian restaurant, you'd never eat anywhere else either. Some of my new favorites are bhindi (okra) masala, cashew masala and the vegetable mackenwala. The menu is so immense we have something new at almost every meal. Dinner was a lot of fun with the wonderful Australian girls, and I was sad to hug Louella goodbye. We both agreed that we knew we'd see each other again, and she thinks Landon and I would love surfing in Coffs Harbour, the town that she's in for her rotations. It is a blessing to have met such a truly good-hearted and fun person, and we parted saying we'd keep each other in our prayers as we both continued our journeys.
The four Okies then caught the city bus to Katpadi, the train station in Vellore. We all enjoyed the typical rowdiness of the bus and the music blaring out of the bus radio. We pulled up to Katpadi and walked into the bus station, stepping around the crowds of people sleeping on the floor. We checked the marquee to confirm our train departure time of 11:05, then perused the station for snacks and bathrooms (the squatting toilets, of course). We watched several trains arrive and leave, headed to Bangalore and other cities and towns. We were glad to see some familiar faces as the Swedes rolled up in their typical long-legged, golden haired trendy European style. Panilla, Victor, Hannah and Ana were headed out of Vellore as well for the weekend, and we bade them farewell and a fun adventure as they hopped on the train before ours.
Our train rolled in a few minutes before 11:05 PM, and we found the correct sleeper car according to our ticket. The inside of the sleeper car was completely dark and completely full. There were several compartments, and each wall had three beds mounted to it, the middle which could fold up during the day hours. We crept as silently as we could through the tiny aisles, careful not to disturb the sleeping passengers whose sandled feet jutted out at all angles from their beds. We found our beds, and Jules climbed to the top while Mike took the middle, Cristine the bottom and I the bottom on the other side. Mike's bed was folded up and we struggled with the latch for several moments until the man directly across from the middle bed reached over from the shadows and deftly flicked it shut, securing it and scaring Cristine and I so much that we shrieked, then recovered and thanked him. Thankfully Cristine had had the bright idea to get extra blankets from the hostel, and I was so glad for them to keep me warm from the breeze coming through the window as the train picked up speed, as well as for the barrier between myself and the seat that thousands of others had sat and slept on as well as from the cockroaches that climbed the walls. Eiik!
I actually grabbed quite a few winks on the way, waking up every now and then to a particularly loud rattle as another train passed us going in the opposite direction or at the stops in the towns along the way. I awoke to sunlight filtering through the window slats and the sound of "coffee!" and "chai" as the man walked along the aisles, toting a large metal container of the hot liquids. I stretched my arms, checked on my sleeping companions and looked out the window to the most beautiful country I have seen yet in India. The dusty red hills of Tamil Nadu had transformed overnight into the shining lakes, flowing rivers and forests of palm trees of Kerala. The magnificent countryside flashed by as we continued on towards our destination.
Michael daringly tried some train food (against Roshan's stern advice), and Jules and I stuck with the coffee since it was boiled first. We decided to disembark one stop early from Allepey in Ernakulam, a town that serves as the ferry departure point to Fort Kochin. We bought tickets for 2 PM to continue onto Allepey, then piled into a rickshaw with all of our backpacks and passed by beautiful city gardens on our way to the main jetty. At the jetty we joined a massive line of people in a stationary line for ferry tickets. After waiting in the line for about 20 minutes, I went off to figure out why nobody was at the ticket office selling tickets. I learned that once again, as in the way home from Pondicherry, we were being held up by a diplomat. The prime minister was on the island and not leaving for another hour and security wouldn't let them sell tickets until then. So we've now had the home minister and the prime minister hold up our travels. I feel that we are continually in the presence of Indian diplomatic greatness.
We eventually made it to the island of Fort Kochin and enjoyed the trip across the water. It was almost Venice-like, reminding me of taking the vaporetti from the main island to Murano as red-tiled roofs passed by, except that the landscape was simultaneously lush and tropical. We wandered through the streets of Kochin, stopping to visit a spice market where men stooped in the hot sun to spread piles of fresh ginger to dry. We walked into the storerooms where women piled the ginger into burlap sacks and it's spicey scent hung heavy in the air. We sampled several kinds of freshly-brewed tea in the small shop upstairs, then climbed back in a rickshaw to travel to the other side of Kochin because we wanted to see the fort for which the island was named. Upon arrival, we asked several bystanders to direct us to the fort. Each one was completely confused, something we are accustomed to because of the communication barrier. I whipped out our Lonely Planet travel book to find a map, and realized that Fort Kochin was the name of the island and there was no actual fort. Oops. So instead of visiting this imaginary fort, we stood at the shore of the lake and watched the fishermaen operating the intricate Chinese fishing nets, massive structures as tall as a house composed of numerous poles bent in triangular shapes with nets stretched between them. They stood tall, saluting the blue sky until the fishemen started to climb up them, their body weight forcing the poles and nets into the water as they walked the length of them. They then reversed this methodical dance to bring them up to discover what treasures they had brought up from the water.
We stopped for lunch at the very bohemian and fabulous ex-patriate haunted Solar Cafe where we all had smooth and delicious fruit shakes, fresh lime juice with ginger, French toast with cinnamon wild honey and typical Keralan breakfast food. We then waited in line to get tickets for the 1:20 PM ferry, already a little anxious because we enjoyed our leisurely lunch so much that we had missed the 12:50 PM ferry and we had a train to catch to Allepey at 2 PM from Ernakulam. After getting our tickets we got in line, aware of the massive crowd of people swelling on all sides of us. People were inching forward, trying to crowd in front of us but Cristine and I dug our feet in and held strong to our positions in the front and center, determined to get on the boat. When the gate opened it was a mad rush forward, and Cristine and I found ourselves literally stuck, jammed shoulder to shoulder with several other people in the mouth of the gate. I literally couldn't move, and she and I were both laughing hysterically as the pressure behind us built until we were popped forward like the cork out of a champagne bottle. We found places as near to the boat door as possible, and leaped from the boat before it was even fully docked as we arrived at 1:46 PM to Ernakulam. We all sprinted as fast as possible with our bags through the ferry terminal, hailing a rickshaw and telling him to hurry to the train station. Luckily we arrived with plenty of time to spare since it turns out the train wasn't leaving until 2:20 PM (another communication error), but our transportation adventures weren't over yet. As the clock ticked nearer to 2:20 PM, people began hopping off the train platform amd crossing to the other side of the tracks to be able to get better seats by boarding from the level of the tracks on the opposite side.
Julie laughed and said,
"Hey! They're Sooners!", to which we all agreed was an appropriate label.
Many of them continued to jump across the tracks, even as the train was chugging along just feet away. We knew that with the enormous crowd still standing on the platform it was going to be tough to get a seat, so I picked a door and grabbed the handle as it passed by, running alongside the moving train and yelling for the others to follow. Even by the time I got in the car, the seats were already filled and people were standing in the aisles. I sighed in frustration until I heard Cristine shout over the noise, "Go up!" I looked above me and saw people clambering onto the metal mesh luggage racks above the seats, and without a moment's hesitation I planted my right foot in the space between a sitting man's legs (much to his irritation) and swung myself and my bag up. And this is how the four Oklahomans rode for over an hour to Allepey. It was hot, sweaty and our legs cramped in a million places, but at least we had the sweet sounds of The Backstreet Boys and Daddy Yankee playing from a guy's phone on the other side of the luggage rack.
We were relieved to climb down when the train arrived in Allepey, amd we found a rickshaw to take us to the Palm Grove Lake Resort, 2.5 km north of Allepey in Punnamada. Allepey looked like any typical small Indian town, other than the fact that it had a large waterway running through its center that held boats of all designs, shapes and colors. We were glad to leave the noises of the town behind as our rickshaw followed the curve of the road to the left and the scenery changed to palm tree forests, small neat homes and brilliant green algae-covered ponds. Our happiness was palpable as we checked in and explored the grounds of the resort. The property ended directly at the backwaters, the water lapping just steps from the front porch of our quaint cottage. Through the thick palm trees we watched the local 'traffic' of houseboats, eleborate covered canoes and one particularly comical man standing in a paddle canoe who chased around 200 ducklings for hours until he herded then back to his yard. We met an elderly Swiss couple who had been coming to Kerala and the Palm Grove Lake Resort for years. They said they had traveled a lot in their lives, but in the past 10 years had just been coming to Kerala for a month in the winter because they loved it so much. They were disappointed to hear that we only had a weekend in Kerala because we had to return to school. The kind woman told us that we had many years until we were their age, but we shouldn't worry about growing old because old age is wonderful and they were very happy to be 'pensioners'. We slept the night away under the gauzy protection of mosquito nets, enjoying the quiet and cool night.
We awoke to the crisp sunshine of Saturday morning in order to inspect the houseboat we would be renting for the day. Julie, Cristine and I walked to the edge of the water where it was parked and were excited to see that Michael had gotten up before us and was already walking around its deck, accompanied by Audree! Audree Condren is one of our friends from OU med school who transferred to UTSW after her first two years and will be graduating this year as well. She is doing a rotation in Bangalore, and we'd welcomed her happily when she wrote me a message about coming to Kerala with us. We all hugged her and finished looking at the boat, surprised and very happy with how nice and beautiful it was. On the first floor there was a kitchen in back, two bedrooms with bathrooms and side-facing windows (and A/C at night!), and a lovely deck with a table and chairs for dining, an elegantly carved and covered wooden bench in the middle, and padded benches on the sides. The ladder from the front deck led to a top balcony with an area for reclining as well as 4 chairs. The outside preserved the traditional Keralan style of palm fronds interwoven to create elaborate weaves that covered the roofs, and the openings on the sides could be covered by curtains that rolled up so we could enjoy the view. It was quite lovely and looked like a nice way to spend the rest of the day and the night on, so we agreed to the price and the departure time of 11:30 AM. We also met our guides for the trip: Rijo the main captain, Vavachan the skipper, Abhi the public relations man/comedian, Kochumon the waiter/server and Babu the chef. They were all quite adorable, especially Kochumon who was about 4'11" and 90 pounds. We then walked to breakfast in the quaint bamboo hut-style restaurant on the property, and enjoyed a delicious breakfast of black coffee (I had three cups), fresh pineapple juice, eggs and toast. Unfortunately Julie and Cristine were feeling quite ill and had been up sick several times during the night. None of us had found our dinner the night before at a local restaurant very savory (seriously the only bad food I've had in India), so we think that may have been the culprit though Mike and I didn't get sick and ate the same food. Jules and Cristine rested for a bit while Mike, Audree and I went to the little town of Punnamada down the road in search of 7-Up for them to take on the boat. The girls were such good sports because they didn't want to miss out on the houseboat experience that we heard was a must while in India.
We boarded our trusty vessel and were greeted with delicious fruit drinks which we sat and sipped as we made our way towards the lake that fed the channels of the backwaters. We were astounded by the vast expanse of water (Abhi, one of our captains told us it was the largest lake in South India), the beauty of the surrounding countryside and the other boats around us as we motored along. We crossed the lake and tied up on the shore for lunch. From my perch on the bench I could look out onto the endless emerald sea of rice paddies that hugged the lake. We watched people at work in the fields, trudging in for their lunch. We saw beautiful white birds land in great numbers in the fields, their pristine whiteness accentuated by the deep green. Fresh fish caught by our guides was served for lunch, as well as other scrumptuous Keralan fare in the form of beets, cabbage and green beans, all accentuated by spices that tickled and pleased the taste buds. We spent the rest of the afternoon leisurely cruising the backwaters, delighted by the glimpses of daily Keralan life that we were able to see from our watery tour bus. We passed boats of schoolchildren who waved excitedly and yelled to us, other foreign tourists like ourselves and large groups of Indians whose boats boasted banners like 'Happy Birthday' and 'Happy Anniversary!'. We marveled at the tropical beauty of India here that was so unlike the areas we'd seen so far, and enjoyed the fresh cool breeze that played over us as we lounged on the front deck, drinking chai and soaking it all in.
Around 5:30 PM our trusty captain pulled in to dock along the shore. Our boat was approached by a jolly, gray-haired Indian man who looked to be about sixty. He asked if we wanted to go on a tour of the small canals in his canoe, and we all agreed.
"Very small canal! Many beautiful. Very happy!" He said excitedly, waving us over to his rough wooden canoe.
After a confusing exchange about how much the price was (we initially thought it was 5 rupees a person, which turned into it being 500 rupees total), we agreed on 400 then hopped in the canoe. We found out our lively captain's name was Anthony, and he lived just off the main canal with his wife and ran a small guesthouse and paddled tourists through the canals. He was excited to hear that we were medical students, and told us that both his daughters were nurses in northern India. He was intent on learning our names, and repeated each as I pointed in turn and told him our names.
"Joooleeee? Michael? Sara! Sara like the Holy Bible! I like to read it!"
I agreed that it was an excellent book and one of my favorites as well, and he nodded with approval at my comment. I am sometimes baffled by how many Christians I have met in India, and not just at the hospitals where I expect to (since many of them are funded and founded by Christian organizations). The interesting mix of Christianity and Hinduism is everywhere, and I saw it juxtaposed in many places. For example, when I went to the back of the houseboat to grab a glass, I noticed a framed picture of Christ and a framed picture of Ganesh mounted next to each other. Abhi asked me if I knew who they were and I told him, and then commented,
"And they're right next to each other. Interesting."
"Hmmm, yes" he said with a shrug, but said nothing more about this interesting blend of faiths all on one houseboat.
Anyways, Anthony was an excellent captain as we set off from the houseboat, and kept repeating:
"Balance keep! Balance keep!" as our canoe rocked back and forth with the movement of our paddles. He was particularly meticulous about Michael's balance for some reason, constantly moving him back and forth in tiny increments, all the while loudly saying:
"Hello Michael! Balance keeping Michael! Hello!"
We turned off the main canal and went under a bridge, then took a small branch to the right and floated down exotic rivulets lined by lush, green vegetation, palm trees and village homes. In some places vines and palm fronds hung low over the water and brushed our heads. At many places village children ran alongside our canoe, blowing kisses, waving, shouting hello and yelling for 'pens pens!' I had one ink pen in my purse which I tossed to a pair of brothers who excitedly searched for it in the grass and yelled 'thaaannkk you!' as we drifted onwards. Julie was pretty concerned when we saw a snake in the water, but Anthony assured her it wasn't poisonous. At one point we all had to duck completely down to pass under a low bridge, and our progress was carefully observed by several curious goats at the water's edge. We passed by fishermen tending their nets, women washing clothes and children playing. We stopped at the point where the canal opened onto the lake to watch the sun cast a warm glow over the water, making sharp silhouettes of the palm trees and boats against the rosy red and orange of the horizon. We were all sad to turn back around to head back, but we all agreed with Anthony when he said,
"Very happy."
Upon return to the houseboat we climbed the ladder to the upper deck to sit in the last few moments of dusk that slowly faded to night, sipping cold Kingfishers that we'd brought aboard and talking about how we felt as if we'd won the lottery in getting to come to India as one of our last rotations in medical school. It's a life experience I will always cherish, especially being able to share it with such good friends. Kochumon soon called us to dinner below, and we dined on chicken curry, fresh bhindi with peppers, rice, chapati, dahl and green beans. It was absolutely delicious and we ate our fill before Rijo came forward with our evening entertainment. I had asked him earlier in the day if there was music on the boat that they liked to play, and he told me that he'd get it when we stopped. The 'music' turned out to be an American MTV English music video DVD that he played for us on the small TV on the wall of the front deck. We found jamming out and dancing to the likes of Britney Spears and Will Smith on the backwaters of Kerala to be quite hilarious, and we couldn't stop laughing at their selection of music once they had gone to the back of the boat. We turned into bed around 10:30 PM, and slept quite comfortably until the morning. The motor started up around 7:30 AM and we motored back towards the town of Allepey while munching on a breakfast of coffee, fresh pineapple, eggs and toast. It was a special morning not only because we were in Kerala, but also because it was Cristine's 26th birthday! We are officialy celebrating on Monday night, but that didn't stop us from starting the party early! They docked the boat to a chain of other boats at the main landing, and we had to precariously cross narrow boards balanced between the boats to make it back to land. We thanked our guides and bade them goodbye as we headed to find the bus station, planning to head back to Fort Kochin to show it to Audree and selfishly to have more banana shakes at the Solar Cafe. The bus ride to Kochin was another wild one with swaying turns and the whole thing rattled so hard I thought my teeth would fall out. We spent the rest of our time before we caught the train walking through Kochin and lounging in Solar Cafe, sipping our delicious fresh drinks and listening to Simon and Garfunkel.
We boarded the 3:45 PM train to Vellore (which actually arrived around 4:15 PM...India time :), and settled into our hot and dirty sleeper car for the 10-hour ride back to Vellore. It was nice to be able to travel back in the late afternoon, because I saw much of the Keralan countryside that I'd missed on the night train coming out. Thick forests of palm trees that filtered the sunlight would quickly give way to sweeping valleys cut by rivers and lakes dotted by green islands of vegetation, then again to flat fields where cows and goats shared their grazing ground with groups of village children playing soccer and cricket. The most striking sight was around dusk when we looked to the hills where several fires were burning, giving the appearance of molten lava flowing down a raging volcano. The sky took on a purplish, hazy color giving even greater contrast to the glowing embers on the hills. We sat on the lower bench until about 9 PM when its occupant wanted to lay down and thus forced us up to our middle and upper bunks, and I was entertained by the adorable little girl on the upper bunk across from me. She was probably about 8 years old, and she was intent on copying everything I did as I got ready for bed, and watched my every move with big brown eyes and a cute smile. I drifted off to sleep for at least 3 hours on and off, drowning out the rattling of the train with music from my iPod, and actually slept well until 1:30 AM when I felt Jules shaking my foot from her upper bunk across the aisle. We all stood guard from then on since we were due to arrive in Vellore around 2 AM, but there are no announcements as to the stops and really no large signs to warn you of your destination, so we could very easily miss our stop in the dark. We were all relieved when the train slowed and we glimpsed the small white and blue sign for Katpadi station. We were all too tired to negotiate much on the rickshaw back to campus, and we were never so glad to see the gates of CMC as we pulled in.
I'm so glad that we went to Kerala. It's an incredible place of exotic beauty. Many of the signs there proclaim, "Kerala: God's country", and I certainly see the truth in that.
The four Okies then caught the city bus to Katpadi, the train station in Vellore. We all enjoyed the typical rowdiness of the bus and the music blaring out of the bus radio. We pulled up to Katpadi and walked into the bus station, stepping around the crowds of people sleeping on the floor. We checked the marquee to confirm our train departure time of 11:05, then perused the station for snacks and bathrooms (the squatting toilets, of course). We watched several trains arrive and leave, headed to Bangalore and other cities and towns. We were glad to see some familiar faces as the Swedes rolled up in their typical long-legged, golden haired trendy European style. Panilla, Victor, Hannah and Ana were headed out of Vellore as well for the weekend, and we bade them farewell and a fun adventure as they hopped on the train before ours.
Our train rolled in a few minutes before 11:05 PM, and we found the correct sleeper car according to our ticket. The inside of the sleeper car was completely dark and completely full. There were several compartments, and each wall had three beds mounted to it, the middle which could fold up during the day hours. We crept as silently as we could through the tiny aisles, careful not to disturb the sleeping passengers whose sandled feet jutted out at all angles from their beds. We found our beds, and Jules climbed to the top while Mike took the middle, Cristine the bottom and I the bottom on the other side. Mike's bed was folded up and we struggled with the latch for several moments until the man directly across from the middle bed reached over from the shadows and deftly flicked it shut, securing it and scaring Cristine and I so much that we shrieked, then recovered and thanked him. Thankfully Cristine had had the bright idea to get extra blankets from the hostel, and I was so glad for them to keep me warm from the breeze coming through the window as the train picked up speed, as well as for the barrier between myself and the seat that thousands of others had sat and slept on as well as from the cockroaches that climbed the walls. Eiik!
I actually grabbed quite a few winks on the way, waking up every now and then to a particularly loud rattle as another train passed us going in the opposite direction or at the stops in the towns along the way. I awoke to sunlight filtering through the window slats and the sound of "coffee!" and "chai" as the man walked along the aisles, toting a large metal container of the hot liquids. I stretched my arms, checked on my sleeping companions and looked out the window to the most beautiful country I have seen yet in India. The dusty red hills of Tamil Nadu had transformed overnight into the shining lakes, flowing rivers and forests of palm trees of Kerala. The magnificent countryside flashed by as we continued on towards our destination.
Michael daringly tried some train food (against Roshan's stern advice), and Jules and I stuck with the coffee since it was boiled first. We decided to disembark one stop early from Allepey in Ernakulam, a town that serves as the ferry departure point to Fort Kochin. We bought tickets for 2 PM to continue onto Allepey, then piled into a rickshaw with all of our backpacks and passed by beautiful city gardens on our way to the main jetty. At the jetty we joined a massive line of people in a stationary line for ferry tickets. After waiting in the line for about 20 minutes, I went off to figure out why nobody was at the ticket office selling tickets. I learned that once again, as in the way home from Pondicherry, we were being held up by a diplomat. The prime minister was on the island and not leaving for another hour and security wouldn't let them sell tickets until then. So we've now had the home minister and the prime minister hold up our travels. I feel that we are continually in the presence of Indian diplomatic greatness.
We eventually made it to the island of Fort Kochin and enjoyed the trip across the water. It was almost Venice-like, reminding me of taking the vaporetti from the main island to Murano as red-tiled roofs passed by, except that the landscape was simultaneously lush and tropical. We wandered through the streets of Kochin, stopping to visit a spice market where men stooped in the hot sun to spread piles of fresh ginger to dry. We walked into the storerooms where women piled the ginger into burlap sacks and it's spicey scent hung heavy in the air. We sampled several kinds of freshly-brewed tea in the small shop upstairs, then climbed back in a rickshaw to travel to the other side of Kochin because we wanted to see the fort for which the island was named. Upon arrival, we asked several bystanders to direct us to the fort. Each one was completely confused, something we are accustomed to because of the communication barrier. I whipped out our Lonely Planet travel book to find a map, and realized that Fort Kochin was the name of the island and there was no actual fort. Oops. So instead of visiting this imaginary fort, we stood at the shore of the lake and watched the fishermaen operating the intricate Chinese fishing nets, massive structures as tall as a house composed of numerous poles bent in triangular shapes with nets stretched between them. They stood tall, saluting the blue sky until the fishemen started to climb up them, their body weight forcing the poles and nets into the water as they walked the length of them. They then reversed this methodical dance to bring them up to discover what treasures they had brought up from the water.
We stopped for lunch at the very bohemian and fabulous ex-patriate haunted Solar Cafe where we all had smooth and delicious fruit shakes, fresh lime juice with ginger, French toast with cinnamon wild honey and typical Keralan breakfast food. We then waited in line to get tickets for the 1:20 PM ferry, already a little anxious because we enjoyed our leisurely lunch so much that we had missed the 12:50 PM ferry and we had a train to catch to Allepey at 2 PM from Ernakulam. After getting our tickets we got in line, aware of the massive crowd of people swelling on all sides of us. People were inching forward, trying to crowd in front of us but Cristine and I dug our feet in and held strong to our positions in the front and center, determined to get on the boat. When the gate opened it was a mad rush forward, and Cristine and I found ourselves literally stuck, jammed shoulder to shoulder with several other people in the mouth of the gate. I literally couldn't move, and she and I were both laughing hysterically as the pressure behind us built until we were popped forward like the cork out of a champagne bottle. We found places as near to the boat door as possible, and leaped from the boat before it was even fully docked as we arrived at 1:46 PM to Ernakulam. We all sprinted as fast as possible with our bags through the ferry terminal, hailing a rickshaw and telling him to hurry to the train station. Luckily we arrived with plenty of time to spare since it turns out the train wasn't leaving until 2:20 PM (another communication error), but our transportation adventures weren't over yet. As the clock ticked nearer to 2:20 PM, people began hopping off the train platform amd crossing to the other side of the tracks to be able to get better seats by boarding from the level of the tracks on the opposite side.
Julie laughed and said,
"Hey! They're Sooners!", to which we all agreed was an appropriate label.
Many of them continued to jump across the tracks, even as the train was chugging along just feet away. We knew that with the enormous crowd still standing on the platform it was going to be tough to get a seat, so I picked a door and grabbed the handle as it passed by, running alongside the moving train and yelling for the others to follow. Even by the time I got in the car, the seats were already filled and people were standing in the aisles. I sighed in frustration until I heard Cristine shout over the noise, "Go up!" I looked above me and saw people clambering onto the metal mesh luggage racks above the seats, and without a moment's hesitation I planted my right foot in the space between a sitting man's legs (much to his irritation) and swung myself and my bag up. And this is how the four Oklahomans rode for over an hour to Allepey. It was hot, sweaty and our legs cramped in a million places, but at least we had the sweet sounds of The Backstreet Boys and Daddy Yankee playing from a guy's phone on the other side of the luggage rack.
We were relieved to climb down when the train arrived in Allepey, amd we found a rickshaw to take us to the Palm Grove Lake Resort, 2.5 km north of Allepey in Punnamada. Allepey looked like any typical small Indian town, other than the fact that it had a large waterway running through its center that held boats of all designs, shapes and colors. We were glad to leave the noises of the town behind as our rickshaw followed the curve of the road to the left and the scenery changed to palm tree forests, small neat homes and brilliant green algae-covered ponds. Our happiness was palpable as we checked in and explored the grounds of the resort. The property ended directly at the backwaters, the water lapping just steps from the front porch of our quaint cottage. Through the thick palm trees we watched the local 'traffic' of houseboats, eleborate covered canoes and one particularly comical man standing in a paddle canoe who chased around 200 ducklings for hours until he herded then back to his yard. We met an elderly Swiss couple who had been coming to Kerala and the Palm Grove Lake Resort for years. They said they had traveled a lot in their lives, but in the past 10 years had just been coming to Kerala for a month in the winter because they loved it so much. They were disappointed to hear that we only had a weekend in Kerala because we had to return to school. The kind woman told us that we had many years until we were their age, but we shouldn't worry about growing old because old age is wonderful and they were very happy to be 'pensioners'. We slept the night away under the gauzy protection of mosquito nets, enjoying the quiet and cool night.
We awoke to the crisp sunshine of Saturday morning in order to inspect the houseboat we would be renting for the day. Julie, Cristine and I walked to the edge of the water where it was parked and were excited to see that Michael had gotten up before us and was already walking around its deck, accompanied by Audree! Audree Condren is one of our friends from OU med school who transferred to UTSW after her first two years and will be graduating this year as well. She is doing a rotation in Bangalore, and we'd welcomed her happily when she wrote me a message about coming to Kerala with us. We all hugged her and finished looking at the boat, surprised and very happy with how nice and beautiful it was. On the first floor there was a kitchen in back, two bedrooms with bathrooms and side-facing windows (and A/C at night!), and a lovely deck with a table and chairs for dining, an elegantly carved and covered wooden bench in the middle, and padded benches on the sides. The ladder from the front deck led to a top balcony with an area for reclining as well as 4 chairs. The outside preserved the traditional Keralan style of palm fronds interwoven to create elaborate weaves that covered the roofs, and the openings on the sides could be covered by curtains that rolled up so we could enjoy the view. It was quite lovely and looked like a nice way to spend the rest of the day and the night on, so we agreed to the price and the departure time of 11:30 AM. We also met our guides for the trip: Rijo the main captain, Vavachan the skipper, Abhi the public relations man/comedian, Kochumon the waiter/server and Babu the chef. They were all quite adorable, especially Kochumon who was about 4'11" and 90 pounds. We then walked to breakfast in the quaint bamboo hut-style restaurant on the property, and enjoyed a delicious breakfast of black coffee (I had three cups), fresh pineapple juice, eggs and toast. Unfortunately Julie and Cristine were feeling quite ill and had been up sick several times during the night. None of us had found our dinner the night before at a local restaurant very savory (seriously the only bad food I've had in India), so we think that may have been the culprit though Mike and I didn't get sick and ate the same food. Jules and Cristine rested for a bit while Mike, Audree and I went to the little town of Punnamada down the road in search of 7-Up for them to take on the boat. The girls were such good sports because they didn't want to miss out on the houseboat experience that we heard was a must while in India.
We boarded our trusty vessel and were greeted with delicious fruit drinks which we sat and sipped as we made our way towards the lake that fed the channels of the backwaters. We were astounded by the vast expanse of water (Abhi, one of our captains told us it was the largest lake in South India), the beauty of the surrounding countryside and the other boats around us as we motored along. We crossed the lake and tied up on the shore for lunch. From my perch on the bench I could look out onto the endless emerald sea of rice paddies that hugged the lake. We watched people at work in the fields, trudging in for their lunch. We saw beautiful white birds land in great numbers in the fields, their pristine whiteness accentuated by the deep green. Fresh fish caught by our guides was served for lunch, as well as other scrumptuous Keralan fare in the form of beets, cabbage and green beans, all accentuated by spices that tickled and pleased the taste buds. We spent the rest of the afternoon leisurely cruising the backwaters, delighted by the glimpses of daily Keralan life that we were able to see from our watery tour bus. We passed boats of schoolchildren who waved excitedly and yelled to us, other foreign tourists like ourselves and large groups of Indians whose boats boasted banners like 'Happy Birthday' and 'Happy Anniversary!'. We marveled at the tropical beauty of India here that was so unlike the areas we'd seen so far, and enjoyed the fresh cool breeze that played over us as we lounged on the front deck, drinking chai and soaking it all in.
Around 5:30 PM our trusty captain pulled in to dock along the shore. Our boat was approached by a jolly, gray-haired Indian man who looked to be about sixty. He asked if we wanted to go on a tour of the small canals in his canoe, and we all agreed.
"Very small canal! Many beautiful. Very happy!" He said excitedly, waving us over to his rough wooden canoe.
After a confusing exchange about how much the price was (we initially thought it was 5 rupees a person, which turned into it being 500 rupees total), we agreed on 400 then hopped in the canoe. We found out our lively captain's name was Anthony, and he lived just off the main canal with his wife and ran a small guesthouse and paddled tourists through the canals. He was excited to hear that we were medical students, and told us that both his daughters were nurses in northern India. He was intent on learning our names, and repeated each as I pointed in turn and told him our names.
"Joooleeee? Michael? Sara! Sara like the Holy Bible! I like to read it!"
I agreed that it was an excellent book and one of my favorites as well, and he nodded with approval at my comment. I am sometimes baffled by how many Christians I have met in India, and not just at the hospitals where I expect to (since many of them are funded and founded by Christian organizations). The interesting mix of Christianity and Hinduism is everywhere, and I saw it juxtaposed in many places. For example, when I went to the back of the houseboat to grab a glass, I noticed a framed picture of Christ and a framed picture of Ganesh mounted next to each other. Abhi asked me if I knew who they were and I told him, and then commented,
"And they're right next to each other. Interesting."
"Hmmm, yes" he said with a shrug, but said nothing more about this interesting blend of faiths all on one houseboat.
Anyways, Anthony was an excellent captain as we set off from the houseboat, and kept repeating:
"Balance keep! Balance keep!" as our canoe rocked back and forth with the movement of our paddles. He was particularly meticulous about Michael's balance for some reason, constantly moving him back and forth in tiny increments, all the while loudly saying:
"Hello Michael! Balance keeping Michael! Hello!"
We turned off the main canal and went under a bridge, then took a small branch to the right and floated down exotic rivulets lined by lush, green vegetation, palm trees and village homes. In some places vines and palm fronds hung low over the water and brushed our heads. At many places village children ran alongside our canoe, blowing kisses, waving, shouting hello and yelling for 'pens pens!' I had one ink pen in my purse which I tossed to a pair of brothers who excitedly searched for it in the grass and yelled 'thaaannkk you!' as we drifted onwards. Julie was pretty concerned when we saw a snake in the water, but Anthony assured her it wasn't poisonous. At one point we all had to duck completely down to pass under a low bridge, and our progress was carefully observed by several curious goats at the water's edge. We passed by fishermen tending their nets, women washing clothes and children playing. We stopped at the point where the canal opened onto the lake to watch the sun cast a warm glow over the water, making sharp silhouettes of the palm trees and boats against the rosy red and orange of the horizon. We were all sad to turn back around to head back, but we all agreed with Anthony when he said,
"Very happy."
Upon return to the houseboat we climbed the ladder to the upper deck to sit in the last few moments of dusk that slowly faded to night, sipping cold Kingfishers that we'd brought aboard and talking about how we felt as if we'd won the lottery in getting to come to India as one of our last rotations in medical school. It's a life experience I will always cherish, especially being able to share it with such good friends. Kochumon soon called us to dinner below, and we dined on chicken curry, fresh bhindi with peppers, rice, chapati, dahl and green beans. It was absolutely delicious and we ate our fill before Rijo came forward with our evening entertainment. I had asked him earlier in the day if there was music on the boat that they liked to play, and he told me that he'd get it when we stopped. The 'music' turned out to be an American MTV English music video DVD that he played for us on the small TV on the wall of the front deck. We found jamming out and dancing to the likes of Britney Spears and Will Smith on the backwaters of Kerala to be quite hilarious, and we couldn't stop laughing at their selection of music once they had gone to the back of the boat. We turned into bed around 10:30 PM, and slept quite comfortably until the morning. The motor started up around 7:30 AM and we motored back towards the town of Allepey while munching on a breakfast of coffee, fresh pineapple, eggs and toast. It was a special morning not only because we were in Kerala, but also because it was Cristine's 26th birthday! We are officialy celebrating on Monday night, but that didn't stop us from starting the party early! They docked the boat to a chain of other boats at the main landing, and we had to precariously cross narrow boards balanced between the boats to make it back to land. We thanked our guides and bade them goodbye as we headed to find the bus station, planning to head back to Fort Kochin to show it to Audree and selfishly to have more banana shakes at the Solar Cafe. The bus ride to Kochin was another wild one with swaying turns and the whole thing rattled so hard I thought my teeth would fall out. We spent the rest of our time before we caught the train walking through Kochin and lounging in Solar Cafe, sipping our delicious fresh drinks and listening to Simon and Garfunkel.
We boarded the 3:45 PM train to Vellore (which actually arrived around 4:15 PM...India time :), and settled into our hot and dirty sleeper car for the 10-hour ride back to Vellore. It was nice to be able to travel back in the late afternoon, because I saw much of the Keralan countryside that I'd missed on the night train coming out. Thick forests of palm trees that filtered the sunlight would quickly give way to sweeping valleys cut by rivers and lakes dotted by green islands of vegetation, then again to flat fields where cows and goats shared their grazing ground with groups of village children playing soccer and cricket. The most striking sight was around dusk when we looked to the hills where several fires were burning, giving the appearance of molten lava flowing down a raging volcano. The sky took on a purplish, hazy color giving even greater contrast to the glowing embers on the hills. We sat on the lower bench until about 9 PM when its occupant wanted to lay down and thus forced us up to our middle and upper bunks, and I was entertained by the adorable little girl on the upper bunk across from me. She was probably about 8 years old, and she was intent on copying everything I did as I got ready for bed, and watched my every move with big brown eyes and a cute smile. I drifted off to sleep for at least 3 hours on and off, drowning out the rattling of the train with music from my iPod, and actually slept well until 1:30 AM when I felt Jules shaking my foot from her upper bunk across the aisle. We all stood guard from then on since we were due to arrive in Vellore around 2 AM, but there are no announcements as to the stops and really no large signs to warn you of your destination, so we could very easily miss our stop in the dark. We were all relieved when the train slowed and we glimpsed the small white and blue sign for Katpadi station. We were all too tired to negotiate much on the rickshaw back to campus, and we were never so glad to see the gates of CMC as we pulled in.
I'm so glad that we went to Kerala. It's an incredible place of exotic beauty. Many of the signs there proclaim, "Kerala: God's country", and I certainly see the truth in that.
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