Train To Kochi

Despite my claustrophobia, for our second train ride we decided to purchase cheaper tickets because we were only traveling a short distance. We took basic sleeper class tickets and once the train finally arrived (it was late again) we sat down next to some locals who were saying goodbye to family through the window. Their interaction didn’t stop when they saw us but there was a definite pause and lots of smiles. There was plenty of room in our cabin so I felt fine, plus all the windows were open. As we sat in the station waiting for the train to load up I noticed a few people taking a quick sneaky photo of us. Once we got moving the lady across from us took a suspicious number of pictures of her son who was sitting on our bench and they weren’t close ups.

The breeze through the open window was great, but the smell was not. Almost immediately after the train set off we were punched in the face with an odor that was unmistakable. It was so pungent it kind of made my eyes water. I purposely don’t eat or drink much before embarking on public transport because I don’t want to have to use the toilets. It turned out that even though I didn’t visit the loo during the trip I didn’t escape that experience entirely. I became an open mouth breather for the remainder of the ride. It did get better during parts of the trip when I dared to try out my nostrils, but it never went away completely. I gained a new appreciation for the sealed off AC cabins.

Once again, on arrival we found a prepaid stand and we were in a tuk tuk straight away. With so many things being effortful in India we really love these booths!

Our accommodation had been booked in advance and was a gem of a place. Homestead Homestay was only $25.00 a night and came with a nice little breakfast. The main staff member, Shiney, was absolutely lovely and she suggested some things that we may be interested in doing. We decided that we’d take in a couple performances and she booked our tickets for us for the following evening.

Cultural Night

Our cultural night included two performances. The first was Kathakali, which is a form of classical Indian dance and was described to us as a story play. There was no actual dancing. Kathakali combines drama, music, costumes, make up, and movements of the eyes, face, hands, and fingers to retell stories of the past. Every motion has meaning and significance. We arrived early to watch the performers (all men) put their makeup on. Andre wasn’t thrilled to go an hour early to watch this and had a running commentary the entire time in a valley girl voice about just how amazing it was to watch the makeup application.

I will concede that we could have arrived about 30 minutes early and that would have been enough. What can I say, I just got really excited about the idea of watching men applying their makeup. It was really enjoyable to observe them assessing their work in their hand mirrors. Before the performance began we were told about how each of the colours of face paint were created (using natural substances) and what they symbolized. One character would have red eyes which was created by inserting a chundanga seed (variety of eggplant) into their lower eyelids.

They had handed out a sheet to everyone which explained the portion of the story they would be performing. I had read through it during makeup/valley girl commentary hour. It was… interesting. I’ll just type out some of what they gave us and include my commentary.

Kichaka, dressed to kill, waits excitedly at his window. Licking his lips in anticipation, he greets Malini with oily charm. He immediately sounds creepy to me, I mean oily charm… I worked in bars a long time. I’ve seen plenty of oily charm.

Kichaka: Oh, jewel beyond compare. Oh, my precious one. You honor me, coming here especially to see me. Let me massage your legs and feet. They must be tired after your long walk here. Okay, maybe he’s not that bad. Flattery and a leg and foot massage sound pretty good. Oh, to think you’ve come here to my place, to grace my apartments. Here we are together, in a bower filled with flowers, alone at last! Come here and lie down on my bed, my darling. Hold me in your arms. Together we will share the greatest joy. Sort of feels like this may be like something out of a bad romance novel… which I suppose implies there are good romance novels. I’m not a fan of the genre but maybe there are good ones. I just picture book covers with Fabio.

Malini: What! You’re mad! You filthy beast. Foul-mouthed seducer. Your sister sent me here to fetch some of your best wine. For goodness sake, just give me the wine. Spare me your insults! Okay, I get it. He’s a total creep. She’s not into him at all and she has her priorities straight. Just give her her wine man!

Kishaka: Ha! She spits and snarls like wild cat. Yet I am sure of one thing. I’ll have her! Kichaka tries to force himself on Malini, who fights back and tries to get away. Well, this took a disturbing turn. I don’t know how #MeToo has impacted India, but maybe in the current climate this isn’t the best section of an ancient story to perform.  Mad with lust, Kachaka beats and kicks her, and tries to violate her. She escapes and runs to Bhima (her husband). Yep, definitely not a fan of this guy. Hopefully something terrible happens to him.

So, basically after she gets back to her husband and tells him everything, he tells her not to worry because he is going to kill Kishaka. Great, that’s the only ending I want to see. Bhima tells her to invite Kishaka to meet her alone in the palace that night where he will be waiting for him.

The performance began and although we’d been given a run down on the colours and eye movements and hand gestures, I was glad we had the write up so we knew what was going on. The eye movements were insanely fast and there was a lot of eyebrow movement. The music was performed by three gentlemen. Only the singer seemed moderately enthusiastic about being there. My favorite was one of the guys who came out a couple times to hold up a prop. I started referring to him as Larry. He just felt like a Larry. The gentleman who performed the role of Malini had zero feminine features. Zero. It was fabulous.

It was an interesting performance and I’m glad we went to see it but it was fairly long considering that very little happened. There was a lot of chasing and refusal and running, and in the end I started thinking that Bhima was never going to murder this guy. I’m not bloodthirsty and I have patience but with no words and minimal whole body movement I started to get squirrely. In the end Bhima knifed him in the back, but that too went on for quite a spell, and I don’t believe I was the only one that was thinking that perhaps it looked like he was doing something else to him. End scene.

Performance two was an hour later so we went for a walk around the area to stretch our legs. One of the tuk tuk guys followed us as we walked out asking if we could come with him to a shop to look around because they gave him petrol for each customer he brought in. We turned him down and then he invited us to his house for dinner. What a guy.

We returned to the venue to watch a couple of ladies do some traditional dances. Their clothing was beautiful and they danced their hearts out in the warm theater. Each lady performed two dances that involved heavy feet work, ankle bells, and very dramatic faces. They hit every soap opera face you’ve ever seen. I started to wonder if I was also making faces without realizing it. For part of the last dance the lady used a large plate. She gripped the rim with her feet and used it to create a rhythm. Now that’s a dance I could get behind because of my impressive feet skills and toe strength. I may dance like Elaine but this plate move could be my thing. Watch this space.

Around Kochi

Our room was on one of the upper floors and seemed fairly private. The second morning I learned that it wasn’t quite as hidden from view as I had thought. As I crawled out of bed Andre quickly warned me put some clothes on. There was a guy in the tree right in front of our window. I looked down to the street below and saw a young boy keeping watch as the man chopped down coconuts and palm fronds. He had a ladder of sorts at the base of the tree which was basically just a pole with tiny pieces jutting out which were just big enough for him to get a grip with a curved foot. Then he made his way up and down with a rope system and a makeshift seat.

 

Kochi, like the rest of the south, was hot. So hot in fact that one day after walking about a kilometer I made an executive decision. There would be no more walking during daylight hours. Andre immediately agreed. Tuk tuks were super cheap so it just didn’t make sense to hoof it any more than was absolutely necessary. Anywhere we wanted to go was only a couple dollars at most. We had only walked to a nearby local market but by the time we got there we had lost all interest in exploring it. As I walked through the stalls of goods a young man came running past me and I swear on my life that the fleeting breeze he produced on that stifling and windless day was nothing short of ecstasy.

Along with a cool breeze I also appreciate a cool drink, but I had been craving wine because not only had there been very few on offer around India, they were super expensive (upwards of twelve dollars a glass and not a generous pour) and all had terrible reviews. You always want what you can’t have. We had found a restaurant in a great people watching spot and I perused the offerings. The menu had a few reds and I looked them up on Vivino. None were over a 3.3 out of a possible five stars. I decided I wanted to go with the Grover Zampa Shiraz based mainly on the following review:

Undrinkable. Probably not helped by the Indian liquor shop storing this open to the elements, but the predominant flavor here is cheap smoked ham. Horrible.

I just had to know for myself. Sadly when I ordered I was informed that they only had one red available and that it was a Merlot. I normally won’t touch a Merlot, but I’m not like Paul Giamatti in Sideways, I’ll take what I can get. My ham wine experience would have to wait. The Merlot was actually pretty decent.

We found a few great places to eat including Bench Resto Cafe. The owners, Arun and Rahul, were very friendly guys and we got to chat with them for quite a while both nights we ate at their establishment. We really enjoyed their company and conversation, and they offered us some good insights into places we were planning to visit. Arun even made a phone call to a place in Hampi to try and help us sort out some accommodation after we had learned that the area we had planned to stay in had been shut down by the government. More on that when I write about Hampi. I’m glad we met these guys and wish them much success with their restaurant.

At Kashi Art Cafe we met an awesome couple from Holland. He was a landscape architect and was a lawyer turned naturopathic wellness guru. We ended up sharing a table with them because the place was packed and we enjoyed visiting with them long after our meals were done. They had been through many places we were heading and gave us names of places to stay and things worth seeing or doing. Before we parted they gave us their contact information and invited us to stay with them if we found our way to Holland on our way home.

We did go see one thing touristy, which was the Chinese fishing nets. They work them in the morning but the rest of the day they really only work them for the tourists in order to make some money. We were just strolling down by the water and weren’t that close but they spotted me as soon as I lifted up my camera to take a photo. We just waved them off, but they reeled in other tourists while we watched.

 

As we continued down along the water there were a few little tables set up. One immediately caught my eye. A guy was selling hand held sewing devices. They looked like staplers. Now I don’t sew much, but Andre is handy and I knew he would like this. I called him over and after some demonstrations and testing Andre happily walked away with his six dollar stitcher.

Planning

I have made no secret of the fact that Andre does virtually all of the planning. He spends a lot of time researching areas, finding transportation and accommodation. He’s amazing. I do more of the planning for the simple things like what we should do or see in places we are visiting. Hippie in Heels has been one of my go to sites for things in India. She has a lot of great information and I enjoy her writing. I was looking up some information about Kochi, where she spent a good deal of time, when a headline in my Google search caught my attention. It was something to the effect of how someone would remember her. What? So I clicked and read the post that Rachel’s friend and fashion blogger had written. She had in fact passed away in May, which was around the first time I had looked at her blog for inspiration for my own. I couldn’t believe that with all the times I had Googled her site and all the posts I had read that I had no idea she had passed. I did a quick search and found an obituary that read:

Rachel Ann Jones, age 29, traveler, writer, photographer, and creator of the popular travel blog Hippie in Heels, tragically passed away Saturday, May 4, 2019 following an apparent asthma attack while in Orlando, FL for her bachelorette party surrounded by her dearest friends.

I went to her site to see if I could find information and there it was, an update.

The medical examiner diagnosed Rachel’s cause of death as a heart disease known as chronic myocarditis, which resulted in a sudden heart attack. We now understand that her condition had been undiagnosed and therefore untreated, but likely developed from multiple infections and viruses over the years.

I have to say, that even though I didn’t know her personally, it made me terribly sad. Like I said, I had read many of her blogs and I loved the way she wrote, her sense of humor. I admired what she had created for herself. She had studied to be a nurse but had left her career to pursue her love of travel. I am glad that she chose to take that risk and live the life she wanted. Here’s to you Rachel.

 

228 days in…

Next up is Hyderabad.