garba galore..

so the real reason i came to ahmedabad (although buying textiles was pretty high up there..) was for navratri, which is sometimes called the biggest dance festival in the world. it's nine straight nights of dancing - all over the city, on all scales. the dancing ranges from street garba to societies (sort of like gated communities) to the giant clubs that put on all-out productions with live music on stage and expensive lighting. on this trip we tried to hit them all.

first off.. club garba..

twirling

our first introduction to all that is garba was at the rajpath club (read: fancy). this ended up being a crash course. we wore our variously borrowed and purchased chaniya choli and bedecked ourselves in things that glittered and jingled. good thing, too, because we were probably the least adorned people there (as if we don't stand out enough). to say they were decked out does not come close. i'd say the average person there was probably wearing close to 8 pounds of fabric, embroidery, mirrors, bells, sequins, tassles, and let't not forget makeup. all tied together with a few strategic safety pins. but that did not stop them from moving. as soon as our friends (well my friend's friends from garba class. yes, class) arrived they formed circle, put their shoes in the middle, and jumped right in.

so coordinated (in more ways than one)

let me tell you, that was some complicated garba. there were many more than the two steps i had been briefly taught. and then they kept changing them! these people were going pretty fast too, definitely working up a sweat (though, in fairness, not difficult with the lights and 15 pounds of material they were under). kristen and i tried our best not to run into people (did i mention they were constantly switching directions?!) for a while but eventually gave up in favor of watching and documenting. we wandered all over taking pictures and videos of all sorts of groups - the most impressive was probably this one troupe - matching outfits and all - that had all sorts of choreographed routines, including, variously, men balancing umbrellas, little girls dancing on shoulders, and what looked to be mini dance-offs.

even the kids are impressive with the dandiya!

we saw all kinds of dances - with twirling umbrellas, throwing sticks (dandiya is the kind with the sticks, i believe) into the air (and, yes, catching them), and little kids getting into the mix. i think it would best be described as a spectacle. eventually kristen and i meandered back to our group where they themselves had moved on to the sequined umbrellas. we were ceremoniously pushed into the crowd and umbrellas were thrust at us. we were made to do a step that involved minimal twirling and stepping, thankfully something we could handle. we did this in various directions as photos and videos were taken around us. luckily that seemed to be enough to assuage the circle and we slipped out of the spotlight with our dignity more or less intact. we slipped out of the festivities not long after, though our friend did stay to be honored as the 'best foreign dancer' - very sweet. as we were speeding home in our auto afterward, chugging water and glad to be seated, my main thought was 'how do these people do this for nine nights?!'

i got my answer shortly, once we experienced society garba..

the closest i got to street garba. my feet did get pretty dirty!

so many of the neighborhoods in ahmedabad are comprised of societies that seem to vary in size and level of affluence. i'm sure their celebrations vary similarly but i only saw a few examples. in general they seem to be much more tame affairs, with one big circle, a few musicians and pretty slow, simple music. the dress code seems to be much more relaxed - some fully decked out in chaniya choli, others in salwar kameez and some just in western attire. and, best of all, the steps are much more limited. one direction, one half turn, same basic idea throughout. i can handle this! i'm glad to say i caught on to this one rather quickly and quite enjoyed it. i could see myself doing this for nine nights. although going in circles does eventually get tiresome..

street garba..

..it seems, is more of the same, just outside the confines of a society. the dance is done around a pot (society ones seem to be also) and other items for the deity. i've heard talk of women with pots on heads dancing, unfortunately i didn't get to see much of this variety.

but we also experienced what i'm calling university garba..

a variety of attire for this garba affair

as the name may suggest, we experienced this one at one of the local universities. most universities have various events throughout the festival but we were told by several people that the one at CEPT (environmental planning and technology) was particularly good. it must have been because there was quite a clamor to get in. i'm not sure how we did - persistence, maybe - but regardless. here once again the dress and attitude was varied - all kinds of clothing. the dancing seemed to be more or less the same slow, steady pace with half turns every other beat. there were two large circles and what we were first struck by was that no one was really smiling all that much. i mean, i suppose all that going in circles must get to you eventually. although, to be fair, this was punctuated about every 5 minutes by a big 'woooo' that went through the crowd. we're still not sure why. nothing else seemed to happen. probably the best part of this experience for me was the decorations, though i'm sure that had to do more with it being a school for architects. there were all sorts of lanterns made from little more than cut paper or cardboard. really well done.

i'm sure this is by no means an exhaustive list of the types of garba one can see - just what i experienced in a few days. i mean, after all, it was the biggest dance festival in the world.

garba garb, and other textile tales

it's always interesting to go back to a place you've been before. some things are just as you remembered, while others seem to have changed completely. the last time i was in ahmedbad it was this past january, sadly just after uttarayan (the kite festival). remnants of kites were littered in the trees and power lines, and there were a few kids here and there playing but nothing like the big festival i've heard of.

how to choose?

this time around it was navratri - the festival of nine nights, which is also considered to be the biggest dance festival in the world. so when i strolled around the familiar sights of the old city.. the jama masjid, manek chowk.. the landscape seemed slightly altered. the piles of mouth fresheners and dried fruits remained but were overwhelmed by rows of dangling silver necklaces, small clothes with shiny tinsel fringe, and meters upon meters of fabric covered in embroidery, beads, mirrors, tassels, shells, bells - anything eye-catching and loud (literally or figuratively). the law garden (another shopping area) was more of the same. sequined umbrellas, sparkling dandiya sticks and fabric that was wall-to-wall glitz. i'm told gujaratis have a particular flair for all things glittery.. i would be inclined to believe that.

everything sparkles.. even the sticks

so these chaniya choli, worn for the dancing i mentioned, consist of a long skirt, short bodice-type top and a long scarf. and they are everywhere. the shopping area i remember looked completely transformed. it was hard to find anything but these outfits. (though that didn't stop me from buying about a dozen types of fabric.. it is the city of textiles, after all. more on that later.) i did end up getting myself a chaniya choli as well. 'when in rome' and all that sort of thing..

stalls at the law garden. can you spot the person?

going about finding one of these was harder than expected, considering i was literally surrounded by them. the general mentality with these items seem to be the more, the better. sequins? good. mirrors? great. tassels? sure, why not! as for color, well if you were hoping for something monotone, you've come to the wrong place. while i think these crazy, busy, shiny designs look fabulous on other people and are certainly wonderful for dancing in, i'm not so sure i could pull it off (or carry it home..) so me looking for something 'simple' (ha) was something of a wild goose chase. then there was price to consider. i tried to be sure i was getting a good deal (it helps to listen to the prices locals are quoted). in the end, i found one i liked for a reasonable price. it still had beads and shells but it was only two colors, one of which was somewhat muted. and, hey, it still twirled and made noise. success.

i also managed to find some regular textile shops in the middle of all this madness. i saw a few materials and was directed up a narrow flight of wooden steps with a hanging knotted rope for a banister. my rewards at the top was a room filled with piles and piles of fabrics of all kinds. solids, prints - wood block, batik, bordered. it was heavenly - i took my time and leisurely chose some prints and matching solids for pants. i bought a few the first day and came back (after shopping around a bit) another day for more. who knows when i'll be in gujarat again! i even found some pretty striped silk to have some pillows made. now all that's left is to find a tailor..

and now, for something completely different..

the textile museum. it's an experience in itself. the rules are many and hardfast. my first introduction to this was last winter, when i tried to visit the museum at 1.30. silly me. you can only visit the museum at 10.15. if you have a reservation. and leave your camera and phone at the front gate

the grounds and buildings themselves are beautiful - apparently the property once belonged to the wealthiest family in ahmedabad. you'll have to take my word for it (as of course i have no pictures) but the grounds are lush and shady, with plenty of palm trees, flowering plants and small ponds. the houses themselves are gorgeous, with beautifully carved wooden window boxes and elaborate brackets. the collection itself is vast - and even more impressive. saris, turbans, tents, wall hangings - from all over india. in all different styles, techniques, and colors (thought there was a lot of red and gold). the tour itself was another story. the guide (whose reputation precedes her across the city) was insistent that everyone stay together and not dawdle and her explanations seemed to be muddled. mostly what i got out of each one was the geographic origin and maybe the use of the textiles in that room. at the end we were told to wait so we could go as a group to the next section to see the tools. we wanted to duck out and go to the store, which we did with some difficulty, only to discover that the dozens of postcards that line the walls are no longer in stock. 

at any rate, ahmedabad certainly lived up to its monicker as the city of textiles. the landscape and experience of the city during navratri was a sight to behold. maybe next time i'll make it for uttaryan...

heavenly hosts

i have to take a minute to say a word about the people of kerala. they are incredibly hospitable. this is not to say that all indians are not - certainly they are. but it's just that bombay is a big, busy city and people tend to leave you alone (which is usually appreciated). but in kerala.. people bend over backwards (sometimes literally - if you're in a bus, say) to help you out and make sure you're alright. what proof of this do i have, you say? i'm so glad you asked.

gauri laughing

exhibit a: i stayed with my (now) friend rekha for four nights in thrissur. i say now friend because i hadn't even met her until a few weeks ago. she's a friend of a friend of a friend i met in richmond but we began corresponding by email and over the weeks and months and eventually we met in kerala. unfortunately circumstances had changed over time and by the time i arrived her father was very ill and had just been discharged from the hospital. this made me feel awful being there and rekha feel guilty for not showing me around during onam. somehow we made the best of the situation and even managed to have some fun despite it all -  trading spanish and hindi lessons or discussing bollywood movies. i was welcomed by her family and greeted immediately by her niece with a big smile and a 'glenna chechi!' (chechi = sister) in between it all i was taken to various onam events around town - including one where i was honored as their special guest and given a gift. when i left i really did feel like part of the family

exhibit b: in traveling around kerala i've been on my share of transportation (trains, car, buses, boats, rickshaws..) the most daunting of these is surely the bus, due in no small part to the names and numbers written in incomprehensible malayalam squiggles (which look to me something like 'MMWLCM'). yet every time i found myself at a bus stand i asked an attendant, or failing that, a random person how to get to a city i was told exactly what bus to get on and, usually, the next stop (invariably something long starting with a 'k') where i'd have to get down and transfer. once i talked to a friendly family with two small adorably sleepy children who, after getting down at one stop, asked around and put me on a rickshaw to the other bus stand nearby so i wouldn't have to wait 50 minutes for the bus where we were.

the hills outside kottayam

exhibit c: i arrived in kottayam and was urged to meet with a friend of rekha's. you remember, the girl i had met only a week before. she assured me that her friend jennifer would help me out. sure enough, she and her father met me at the bus stand and asked what i'd like to see in the city (i was staying with them, that much was explicitly understood). i said that i was interested in seeing the churches and, in passing, mentioned that i had heard there was a waterfall not too far that i had hoped to see. before i knew it, we were on the road towards thekkady, passing through rolling hills and deep green valleys. and hour and a half later, we reached the waterfall, enjoyed for a few moments, and then a rainbow greeted us on our way back. that night after returning to kottayam the driver dutifully took us to all the main churches in kottayam so i could see them.

the next day i spent at their beautiful home. while i would have elected to do this, i didn't really have a choice. see, that day kerala was on strike. literally. the transportation in all of kerala came to a halt - no buses, trains, motorcycles, autos - nothing. the logistics of that alone boggles the mind. can you imagine anyone trying to orchestrate a strike like that in virginia? impossible. at any rate we spent the day watching tv, eating sweets and walking through the rubber tree plantations that populate the area.

exhibit d: i went to calicut for two reasons, chief among them being that my flight left from there. the secondary reason i went was to see a professor - a colleague of my advisor's who's the head of the folklore department in the university. well what with hours of bus rides i didn't arrive in the city until just after 5pm. i was told that professor varmaraja had just left but within minutes i was put on the phone with him, and about ten minutes after that i was in his car on the way to his house. i was treated to dinner in his home - dosas, pickles, maggi, banana chips (of course), and any other snacks they could find - and given a tour of their home. (highlights: the indoor swing, the verandah over the jasmine bushes, and playing with their harmonizer - like an indian accordion)

(see what i mean about the alphabet?)

as if this was not enough they took me into town later that evening. at 8 we left to see the city (pretty unheard of in kerala, since things tend to shut down after dark) i was given the option to see the 'giant wheel' - which turned out to be a ferris wheel. much smaller than ours but a heck of a lot faster. my stomach felt like it dropped out with every revolution. when i and their 14-year old son got down it was announced: 'we will go to a movie'. my protestations fell on deaf ears and i was carted along to my first movie in india - in malayalam. 'it will be an experience', i was told. well that was true enough. not surprisingly, the 3 words i learned in malayalam (that would be 'hello', 'thank you' and 'water') did me very little good. i was still able to follow the story since it was so simple and over-acted. it seems i got the authentic mallu movie experience - complete with brief power outage (immediately followed by a din of whooping from the audience below), goofy fight scenes with super-cheesy sound effects and an intermission where more snacks were forced upon me. after the movie it was decided 'we will go for ice cream'. no matter that it was nearly midnight and i was stuffed to capacity. a mixed fruit falooda was ordered for me (ice cream with little noodles, i suppose is the best way to describe it) and somehow i managed to eat the whole thing. after all this they still insisted on driving me to the airport in the morning, even stopping for banana chips along the way. a wonderful ending to my journey in kerala and yet another example of the peoples' generous nature.

i suppose i shouldn't be surprised. after all, kerala is 'god's own country'. and in india, 'guest is god'.

journey to the end of the world

it was tough to cut short my time in varkala - between the warm sunny beaches, cheap and plentiful ayurvedic massages and abundant seafood, i'm sure i could have stayed for several days. but it was not to be. i had places to see in my remaining days in kerala. although actually my next destination lay outside the state itself.

kanyakumari is not a big tourist destination for foreigners. but as for indians, well you can probably find nationals from all over the country here. i think there must be something romantic about being at the very tip of the country, being exactly where the giant nation comes down to one single point. it's this dramatic notion, i suppose, that has led to the tradition of people watching the sunrise. (it's said that from here you can both watch the sun rise and set over the same waters - though in actual practice one has to travel a bit to achieve this.) so, as any good tourist, i dutifully roused myself at 5.30 and made my way down to the water, wandering through winding streets of fishermen's homes.

there were already people gathered to get a spot along the sea wall for the sunrise. as with any gathering of people in this country, there were of course people trying to sell things. 'chai coffee' 'seashells' 'postcards pictures'. the skies were just starting to get light but i passed the time watching the spectacle of indian men clambering down over the rocks to get their pictures taken while being splashed by the sporadic waves.

the morning did end up being a wonderful one - well worth waking up and roaming around bleary-eyed and un-showered. there was something about being one of the first to see the sun come up over all of india that just felt somehow meaningful. then there was the added bonus of the beautiful golden early morning sunlight. i delighted in wandering among all the colorful boats with their ropes, nets and paint peeling in that wonderful way that's just so photographable. at the same time fishermen were busy untangling their nets, hauling in their first catches of the day and setting out to sea.

i think my pictures from this morning capture the scene much better than my words can so i'll just leave it at that and give you this photo-log instead.

first view of the harbor before dawn

water before the sunrise

crashing waves

there it is!

orange glow of the sun over the arabian sea

fishing nets all bundled

studies in texture.. rope wood and sand

kanyakumari in the distance

colors

good place to perch

the golden light really makes these colors pop

first catch of the day

seaworthy vessel

high saturation

into the sun

the eyes have it.. by a nose

fishermen preparing their boats

fishing net or seaweed?

photo?

boats in the rising sun

rows of boats

a colorful harbor

walking out on the rocks, looking back at the harbor

the very tip of india

water, water everywhere

a canal too small even for our little canoe

alleppey is thought to be one of the better (or at least better-known) spots to explore the backwaters of kerala. though i only had essentially half a day there i thought i'd make the most of it by taking a boat ride. since these people are in the business of boats - they have them in spades. any shape, size or price range you could imagine. there's even an 8-hour commuter ferry that goes all the way to kovalam (about 8 hours away) for just a few hundred rupees. then of course there are the extravagant honeymoon houseboats that come with all amenities, including on-board staff. i opted for the lower end of the spectrum (surprise surprise) and since i was by myself a canoe ride seemed like the best option anyway. it was small but quite cozy, and had a small covering which was appreciated especially as the first hour of my trip was rather drizzly.

colors of the backwaters

we spent the early part of the three hours on a larger part of the river but as the skies began to clear and time went on we moved in to the smaller canals and could see life on the river up close. as we floated by we could see coconut trees, pretty little pastel houses, roosters crowing and people out to wash their clothes on the rocks. it was a lovely little ride, peppered with sights like lilypads, boats carved and colorful and even a few kingfishers (what a pretty bird). the ride was relaxing - just what i needed after a few hectic days, and i even got to row, which i really enjoyed. my guide/personal rower asked no less than four time "are you happy?" i must have answered unconvincingly. but after a few hours on the water in alleppey, yes, i was quite content.

that day it was on to varkala. alright, full disclosure: this was not one of my finer travel ventures. but i'll tell you the whole story anyway, whoever's actually reading this, that is. i intended to take a train to varkala despite being told it was 'always late'. come to find out, i should have inquired as to how late it would be. i got to the train station and was told it would be 4.30 instead of 3.30. this quickly turned into 5.30. at that point i figured i'd be getting into varkala too late (it gets dark early down south!) and figured i'd just take the bus since it would leave right away.

so after losing 20 rs. for refunding my ticket, i took a local bus back to the bus stand (where i had just been, i might add). from there i had to take not one bus, but three, ending me up in varkala long past when the train would have deposited me. lessons learned: when people say 'that train is always late,' ask them how late. and when people say 'the train will be better for you,' they're probably right.

rocks and cliffs of varkala

so i arrived into varkala feeling rather exhausted and jaded but luckily found my hotel easily enough. i was delighted to find a tidy little room that had clean sheets, towels, and toilet paper. amazing! i was even more delighted the next morning to discover that i had chosen a beautiful little spot to stay. i chose the city because it was on the coast and situated in a little cove between two cliffs. the cliff - just a few meters' walk from my hotel - was picturesque and the view was just breathtaking. exactly what i needed after the long day of travel before.

shiny wet rocks and sea weeds

of course i wasn't the first one to discover this little bastion and it was immediately clear that this was a popular tourist haunt. as if the tibetan good shops and ubiquitous ali baba pants (calling all hippies) weren't enough - there were continental restaurants boasting waffles (i resisted) and blasting bob marley. i meandered through the shops without buying toooo much but did have two meals with a view of the sea. there's something about eating overlooking the sea that's always sort of magical. and for the first time i felt like i was on vacation, rather than of just traveling.

crashing waves cover the entire shore

i did get a closer look at the water, too. i walked down one of the several sets of steps that lead down to the shore. the tide must have been coming in because the strip of shoreline was rather narrow. throughout the sands were red, craggy rocks overgrown with slimy algae, along with shiny shells and scaly fish. they say the riptide in kerala is intense and claims several people each year. just watching those waves crashing violently against the rocks, i'm inclined to believe them. so although it was a beautiful sunny day (the first after a week of rain, i was told) though i did manage to get my skirt thoroughly soaked while taking a picture. so i suppose you old say i was in the arabian sea.

i guess you can't go to kerala without experiencing the waters firsthand.

so you're going to a boat race..

despite my rather limited experience (two snake boat races does not a veteran make, i suppose) i thought i would pass on my small bit of wisdom for those of you who may find yourself attending a boat race in kerala in the future.

come early

if you don't get a seat this is where you may end up. 

as with most events in india, these boat races tend to attract a lot of people (a commodity of which india has no short supply). at the two races i attended, there were pavilions filled with plastic chairs that required advanced tickets (which i didn't have - but at one i knew someone who was able to get one and at the other i was let in because.. well, i'm white. sad but true). do note, though, they invariably pass out more tickets than there are chairs so it pays to get there early and claim your spot so you don't end up sitting on the steps or outside on the muddy grass nearby. coming early - as in 3 or 4 hours, ideally, leads me right in to my second tip...

be prepared to wait

so you've claimed your plastic chair and have chosen your spot strategically (view of finish line is key). great. now get ready to wait. i learned this lesson the hard way the first time and so spent my time chatting with the kids around me. not altogether a bad alternative. but bringing a book the second time around was crucial. 


as with any important onam celebration, these events are always surrounded by a big fanfare. which means local politicians (lots of 'em). which means about 14 men who really like to hear themselves talk. and unless you understand malayalam, this is going to be quite dull. (though i imagine even if you understand malayalam it's not much more enthralling.)

don't miss the pre-show

colorful chhatris (umbrellas) and a lot of dead weight

not that you could, really. the boats make a big deal of 'processing' (i guess boats can 'process') back and forth across the river - showing off their enthusiasm (chanting a rhythm that will undoubtedly be blasted/shouted/repeated endlessly throughout the day), beating drums, and twirling their fancy umbrellas. this is a great time to see the boats up close and note all the decorations that adorn them. later on the boats are farther away, in their respective lanes, and have jettisoned the decorative elements - and probably a few of the less crucial people - to be more competitive.

staying sane

boats processing in all their finery

you've already started on this by bringing a book, or other form of entertainment. but just be aware that in addition to the hours of waiting there will be plenty of other annoyances that are likely to drive you up a wall. the chanting i mentioned is probably chief among these. the chant is meant to keep the boatmen in stroke, and it's certainly a successful way to do so. however it also serves as a sort of rallying cry for all of the rowers as well as onlookers. i, for example, was awoken that morning (quite early) by this chant being blasted from speakers about a block away. and it basically went on uninterrupted until well into the evening.

there are also likely to be other little annoyances that are inevitable in large groups of people. old men nearby who insist on spreading out to occupy as much space as possible... small children who can't whistle and try shrieking at an obscenely high decibel instead... a whiny toddler who continues to be shuffled back and forth between rows crying alternately for his father/mother.. you know, for example.

get excited

sweet victory

the boat races themselves happen pretty fast. though there can be a lot of wait time, it seems like the bigger races have gotten pretty good about spacing the races themselves quickly. there may be as many as three going on at a time, stretched out along the course. (kind of like kids going down a water slide) it's easy to tell when the local boats are coming through (and in the run for first) because the crowds will cheer. so get up and try to get a view of the finish line. (this is the time to pull out your zoom lens if you happened to remember to bring one.. sigh)


don't wait until the bitter end

the boat races themselves wrap up in a pretty timely manner, with semifinals and finals that have a pretty quick turnaround time. but the celebrations seem to go on and on. the winning boats make their final lap, eliciting cheers from the audience, and then are asked to come up on stage where some higher ups give out trophies and the boatmen begin their celebrations anew. i saw a few of the boatment return, cheered along with the crowds, and then got out of there. it's just more of the same and if you've seen it once you've pretty much seen it all.

enjoy!

so, there you have it. a guide to enjoying your next boat race in kerala. 

dances and tigers and bananas, oh my!

from cochin i took a train to thrissur (also called trichur.. every city here has at least two names) to meet a friend of a friend i'd been talking to for months but never actually met. rekha turned out to be a fabulous host despite having to look after an ailing father. despite the odd situation (me feeling bad for being there at all, her feeling bad she couldn't show me more) we had a great time exchanging hindi and spanish lessons, playing with/breaking up fights between her nieces and nephews and discussing all the great places to go in bombay. her family filled me to the brim with keralan food, naturally - piles of rice, heaping spoonfuls of sambar, lots of fluffy idli and of course more bananas (boiled, fried, chips) than i've ever had in my life.

pookkalam for onam

in between all this eating and playing i managed to see a bit of thrissur and some of the festivities of onam as well. thrissur is, it's said, the cultural capital of kerala, after all. the first day we walked around the neighborhood, noting the pookkalam (designs of flower petals) and thrikakarappan gracing thresholds to welcome lord mahabali. we then discovered (from the milkman) that there was a boat race one day so it was decided i should go. the boat race itself, of which there are many throughout the state in the month leading up to onam, i discovered, consists principally of waiting rather than watching. in the hours preceding the event i watched as foreigners were moved up to the front 'vvip' section while others jostled for plastic chairs. i hung back but did crawl up to the front to kneel down and take some pictures of the passing procession of boats. they weren't terrible big (most of them) or decorated but the rowing itself was fun to watch. after growing weary of squatting in front of the wooden biers, i got out of the shaded pavilion and walked through the crowds of umbrellas onto the bridge. while policemen where there shooing people to one side or the other, i managed to cross back and forth enough times to see the boats going by down below. it was a unique vantage point and made the race slightly more memorable.

ona sadhya, banana leaf and all

the following day i was taken to the community celebration of a small area called 'manipuri', which rekha assured me i was the first foreigner ever to grace. by now i've grown used to the constant staring and general fuss made over white people so i was ready for it. upon arriving at the school i was ushered to one of the front chairs (but at this point i've stopped fighting it) where i sat through, once again, speech after speech from politicians in what to me is incomprehensible malayalam. after several hours of this we were ushered over to another room where long tables had been set out in preparation for the onam sadhya, the traditional feast (often over 15 dishes) eaten on a banana leaf (easy cleanup!). delicious! after our lunch break it was back to the hall for dances. two girls performed alone, what looked to me like bharatnayam - their expressions were excellent and i was able to follow the basic stories. then another version of thiruvathirakali, the traditional onam dance performed in a circle around the lit diya. (a few times the girls' colorful silks got too close to the flames which elicited urgent 'shhh shhhs' from the onlooking mothers).

silks spinning around the lit diya

then finally, pulikali - the tiger dance (that's men painted as tigers, not live ones), and the closing of onam festivities. this event, as far as i know, only happens in thrissur and it is massive. roads are shut down hours in advance so i was dropped off in the main circle with hours to kill. having felt rather queasy all day, i passed most of the hours lying down under the shade of a large tree and attracting plenty of attention from passing park-goers. eventually i got up the strength to wander around and see where all the dances would happen. gradually i understood that the procession would be on the street itself and not inside the circle. as i sat waiting for the madness to begin i must have passed hundreds of people, mostly families entertaining kids with snacks of popcorn and popsicles and rides on the playground. i looked on as families claimed their spots along the cement wall, fathers holding up children for hours and mothers talking over a constant chorus of horns, slide whistles and squeaky toys.

finally the procession itself began - it seemed to be essentially a parade. through the designs in the cement wall i could see odd floats - with bricks, trees, and a giant octopus peppered with deities and a few men painted as tigers.
and then.. nothing.
for 20 or 30 minutes nothing at all happened, other than the crowds began to disperse into the road and people began to search for more snacks and diversions. i assumed the event was wrapping up and began to head to the street, disappointed and rather exhausted.

tiger-men shaking their big rice bellies

i asked a policeman to be sure the event had ended but he explained that, 'no, it's coming'. so i perched myself on a nearby curb and continued waiting. it's a good thing i did wait because if not i would have missed the absolute madness that ensued. by the time the procession of tigers had arrived it was nightfall but we could see the lights of the float approaching in the distance and hear the beating of the drums. the men carrying the rope (which pushed the crowds back and demarcated the tigers' territory, as it were) arrived first, sweating and grunting as they heaved the procession forward. and then.. the tigers. the men were clearly excited, having long prepared for the event. they were painted all over, save for a shiny orange loincloth - their arms, legs and chests all covered with orange and black paint. their protruding rice bellies were made to look like snouts, with ferocious looking fangs and bright red tongues. this coupled with their raucous (one might say savage) enthusiasm made it actually a rather terrifying sight. they chanted and shook their bellies to the constant rhythmic beat of the drums behind them, drawing further energy from the cheering crowds, of which i seemed to be the only female. the police and fellow men on crowd control saw this, and plucked me quickly out of the massive crowds and into the front of the procession. which not only managed to keep me safe from grabby hands but also afforded me great pictures! i'm not sure they quite capture the absolute madness, but i hope they give some impression of the general chaos.

i couldn't even say how long the event went on - after about a half hour of chanting, cheering and jiggling bellies, i headed back towards rekha's house, which i reached only after a long search for a rickshaw and an even longer ride home. my arrival, just after 9pm, was greeted with many questions. why was i so late? what took me so long? wasn't i afraid of anything traveling alone like that? i just answered with a shrug of the shoulders and big smiles.

just another of the joys of being a woman in india.

of kids and keralites

my sojourn in kerala. i left with mixed feelings - excited at the prospect of a new state to explore, but a little disappointed to leave so soon after starting to feel settled in mumbai - and in the mist of ganesh chaturthi, no less, when the city's at its liveliest. still an adventure in a new place is always welcome in my book. so off i went.

a quick plane ride and in less than two hours i touched down amid acres of palm trees as far as the eye could see. i landed in cochin, and took the bus (as instructed) towards 'kokers theater' (you just never know what's going to be a landmark in this country), where i would get down. the bus ride took quite a while, crossing through all of ernakalum (the 'big city') and traversing bridges to get from one island to another. i began to get a little nervous, but sure enough the bus attendant showed me where to get down (no theater in sight) and in a few minutes i had found the homestead i had contacted the night before.

my wanderings that night were largely fruitless. i knowingly went in the opposite direction of the tourist town but, perhaps predictably, found little but small shops and locals confused at my presence. i also discovered the mosquitoes after realizing i had neglected to put on bug spray for the evening. i ate a quick fish curry in a place i eventually found nearby, all the while convinced i'd come down with dengue within the week. (update: so far, so good)

as my travel plans began to unfold i realized i'd likely be staying in cochin (really i was only in ft. kochi, the historic area) for about three days. so i decided to pace myself and take it slow. i started off at a leisurely 9:30 the next morning after renting a bike (bike meaning bicycle, not two-wheeler, which i was initially offered. oops.) from my hosts. i followed the owners' sons, who proudly trotted the bike - sorry, cycle - down the street to fill up the tires. and then i was off. i stopped for a quick breakfast of jalebis (my teeth are absolutely going to turn to mush in this country) and i was off.

what did i tell you? old doors

over the next few days i meandered all over the city, roaming here and there - stopping to take pictures, chatting with shop owners, eating wherever the food smelled best, and getting gawked at all the while. some of my favorite landscapes were in a village which i think is somewhere near jewtown (yes it's actually called this). give me any scenery that includes peeling buildings with old painted doors and i can be content for hours. or days, as this trip evidenced. i roved all through the streets and alleys, pausing every few yards for the inevitable photo, and in between dodged the potholes and uneven terrain of the variously paved and unpaved roads. (finally, all that biking through richmond is paying off!) i stopped somewhere in there for a biryani lunch, where i was quickly surrounded by about 20 men who demolished their heaping plates of steaming rice in no more than a few minutes.

typical streets of kochi

my days were peppered with sightseeing - the dutch palace (now museum - with impressive murals and other random artifacts), the synagogue (small and simple), the chinese fishing nets (not sure what the fuss is all about  - i suppose it's a sight to see these big things being pulled in, though i never did). but this was peppered with frequent stops for shopping and window shopping, and chai and postcard-writing, and an hour or two spent over ice cream gazing out onto the sparkling arabian sea.

media attention

and then, my last full day in the city i wandered about in search of onam festivities. this festival, ostensibly the reason i had come to kerala when i did, is basically a celebration of the mythical lord mahabali coming to visit the people of kerala. its lost any religious associations it once had, and is celebrated universally in the region. the king is welcomed in various ways but chief of these is the making of pookalam (designs made of flower petals) in the homes. though the festival has generally been more family-oriented, it's gradually becoming more of a community event.

flowers for all at onam

this was made clear to me when i wandered into the field behind one of the churches that day, attracted by the voices on the loudspeaker and the beating of drums. songs were sung and speeches were made before the flames of the diya were lit and the giant pookkalam was begun. this was by necessity a community endeavor - the ambitious size of the design (about 20 feet square) required plenty of people to cut flowers, place them in foam and arrange them accordingly. but it was clear the event was being hailed as an international one as well. this was clear as the foreigners were rounded up (myself included) to be interviewed about this and that and later - play musical chairs (we were confused about this, but they seemed just as confused as to why we couldn't rope more visitors, all grown adults, into playing this children's game).

thiruvathira, the traditional dance of kerala

though if it weren't for all this superficial media attention, i may not have met my friend mary, who lives nearby. i could see why they chose to highlight her, as she looked beautiful with her traditional white and gold sari and long, flowing hair. we chatted at length throughout the day, i visited her house briefly in the afternoon, and in the evening our conversations and malayalam lessons included more and more of the local retinue. kids from all over the town gathered and we communicated in winks, waves and the occasional flower offering. it reminded me so much of honduras - mosquitoes, bananas and all. right down to the community dance performance attended by villagers on plastic chairs. it was a lovely day of friends and new experiences. by the end i felt totally welcomed into this new community, though i had essentially just joined it that morning.

initially i had been a little concerned that i might be lonely traveling by myself for several weeks. but it's not the first time. and i discovered you're never really alone in kerala. there's always someone willing to help you out or fill you in and, failing that, about 10 people who want to ask you where you're from and what you're doing here.