Mark arrives - more Cochin and Kerala

My friend Mark arrived from the US during his spring break to join up our travel efforts. We have traveled before, driving cross country to land in SF and taking weekend trips, but never internationally. Remember the bit about humility from my last post? I got his date of arrival wrong and went to the airport a day early! I was worried that he missed his flight or missed the fact that Delhi International and National airports are miles apart.

I was able to salvage the day, even though the airport was an hour away from our hotel, and made it to the beach. Being Sunday, everyone has the day off, and there were heaps of reveling locals in the refreshing Bay of Bengal. After the 'dry run,' I was able to plan my day better the next day and made it to another beach in the morning, this one, empty, except for canoe fisherman heading out. What came first, the uninhabited beach or the sand toilet for locals?

Mark and I toured the city and headed back to Jewtown (seriously, that's the name) to see the inside of Pardesi synagogue. We met 2 octogenarian members of the community. Sarah Cohen, who creates beautiful hand sewn textiles, talked to us about her work and the inevitable dwindling of the community. Sammy Harangua gave us a history lesson from the inside of the synagogue and about the state of the minion. Both extraordinary encounters.

The following day, we departed for a tour of the Kerala backwaters on a houseboat tour. This was one of the coolest things I've done. The boat was a month old and equipped with 2 double bedrooms and a sitting area up front. We lazily meandered the palm-strewn river ways and canals while dining on home cooked meals from the back of the boat and drinking Kingfishers. We even stopped to go grocery shopping and for coconuts for supper.

(You should always check out my web album for more shots.)

Villages and occasional resorts line the river beds. I got a definite uneasy feeling from the locals as we motored in our souped-up craft, past canoes piled with supplies and propelled by long bamboo shafts. While we were certainly not the first river tourists, there were many boats on the rivers, I felt like we were pushing the disparity of wealth in their faces. It would be like driving a Bentley through some slums. While most people assume this disparity exists when they meet you, the boat seemed to confirm it. I always wonder how these people feel; we inquired our crew about it. They said the common response, "It is what it is." We are able to break down these barriers and misconceptions of our demeanor when we interact, but the water chasm did not afford us this.

When speeding through a canal, our captain scraped the side of the boat. While cosmetic in nature, we docked at his village to repair the damage that night. We went to shore and met up with a large group of boisterous kids who were surprised and excited by our arrival. We head to this tiny but marvelous black sand beach to play in the water and watch the sunset. We then played a rousing game of cricket. We knew it was time to stop when one of the older brothers popped out and cracked the whip, literally a reed, on one of the kids to go home and study for tomorrow's exam.

Brijith's village, and much of the surrounding area, was struck by tsunami floods. The village was rebuilt and looked fresh and uniform. The kids pulled us around by our hands and introduced us to every villager that we walked past. It was quite a trip and redeeming from my earlier thoughts/paragraph.

We slept on deck that night and woke early for the sunrise and morning yoga.