We walked through with open eyes and mouths agape. Out front, there was a parade of gleaming white Ambassador (left over from the more colonial days) taxis, crowds of women in beautiful saris and men in white shirts and dhotis (long white ankle-length cloth worn by males, tied around the waist and sometimes hitched up through the legs). Much like the elusive Scottish Kilt, we were left to wonder (ok, maybe it was just me wondering), what do the men wear under the dhoti? Perhaps we’ll never know because the men we asked wouldn’t really even talk about the garment with us. Perhaps it was inappropriate or perhaps we have yet to find someone to understand our innate and constant questions.
One of the favourite options for accommodation while in Kerala is a homestay. People open their homes to offer rooms and breakfast. Sounded like a fabulous chance to get the inside scoop and hopefully taste some awesome home cooking. We checked into a place called Aranyaka. Kochi is an absolute maze of land and waterways just off the ocean called “The Backwaters”. Our drive from the airport was about an hour leaving us totally confused after the umpteenth bridge and neighbourhood. These cab rides are a funny thing. They offer an introductory glimpse (all be it fast) of the places we land but it is hard not to formulate a quick judgment. It’s not until a day or so and a chance to walk around, we really get a better idea of where we are. The final couple of blocks before pulling in to Aranyaka were grim but there was a pot of gold at the end. Our cottage out the back of their home was right on the water. It was huge and beautifully decorated with India meets old Britain. But the best part was the bathroom; the important stuff was under cover but the 2 showers were open air with pebble and flagstone floor. Whoo Hoo! Our hosts were gracious although they didn’t hunker in and really talk to us. They hovered while we ate which made us a little uncomfortable (a feeling we would become more and more familiar with) rather than eating with us. But the stay was fabulous, comfortable and airy.
We had few objectives for our time in Kochi except booking a houseboat and checking out Fort Cochin. Kochi is famous for its backwaters, spice markets, old fort, Chinese fishing nets, Jew Town, churches, and proximity to Alappuzha or Alleppey where most of the houseboats cast off. It is in the Fort we got taken for a ride. Immediately after getting out of our cab, the familiar circle of touts crowded around offering rickshaws, jewelry, fish…you name it. I have noticed a polite decline rarely does the trick around here. If you are lucky, the tout will eventually get the hint you really are not going to buy, they will then ask you your name, offer their own and close by asking for a promise to remember them and come back. I’ve become quite comfortable nodding an insincere yes, yes, of course! One booth had the added attraction of two wee kittens for us to hold. Anna, being our most excellent shopper and bargainer, did the obligatory deed of buying a trinket. A couple of rickshaw drivers stuck to us like glue while we paraded around the old fort taking care of business, eating and shopping. Every time we stepped back on to the street, they greeted us with wide smiles and a repeat description of their offer for a “complete” fort tour in their rickshaw for only 50 Rupee
s. Seemed like a pretty good deal and since they persisted for more than 2 hours following us around, we climbed aboard so we could head out and see the spice market, temple and other local attractions. 50 Rupees, such a deal! Except all we were really buying was a crazy drive (which was actually pretty fun) with stops at shops and cafes where the drivers would get a cut of whatever we buy. We literally raced by any noteworthy actual sites. And the high pressure sales technique at these stops was exhausting. We politely explained we were not shopping, but it fell on deaf ears and soon we were in a bit of a confrontation in the middle of the street. Duh, this had happened to us in Mumbai and I guess is a well used driver strategy throughout India. We convinced them to take us back to where we started, their jovial attitudes evaporated behind the rickshaws with the exhaust.
We have learned the best place to start hunting for information is away from the touts and at the local government tourist office. Here we found a helpful woman who within an hour had helped us book a houseboat and a driver to take us through Kerala for the following six days. A bit of a leap, but at this point we were feeling the pinch of trying to lug ourselves and the kids around with no plan while we tried to research the next step. It felt good to have the next week settled.
One thing we did see en route with our rickshaw “guides” was an elephant. It was one of the saddest things we’ve seen. The drivers spoke to someone through an old fence and eventually (when a price was settled, of course) we were led into the walled yard. There we found a huge elephant with two of his beautiful legs chained so tightly, he had mobility only with his head and trunk. His perch was a cement pad barely larger than the footprint of his four legs. We cringed and asked to leave immediately declining a “ride”. We are still mad at ourselves for actually handing over the 200 Rupees before leaving. At times you can get overwhelmed with wondering how we can make a difference in such a vast pool of different customs and reality…not to mention the desire to avoid a scene about money. We did however, vow not to ride any elephants while in Asia, something offered everywhere. We are now more than ever, looking forward to our week in Thailand at the elephant reserve where they restore and protect elephants just like this one abused in the tourist industry. Now, many of these animals are under the guise of being part of religious ceremony or “holy”. In the land of more than 30,000,000 gods and zillions of temples, it would be nice if they could spare the animals but perhaps I’m sounding judgmental, oops.
No comments:
Post a Comment