A Road Much More Traveled Part 1

I know it's been a while since I've posted, but for good reason. While you all were wondering why I wasn't writing in my blog, I was off galivanting around the country yet again. One of my good friends came to visit for two weeks and we decided it was time to go and check out Kerala, one of the most scenic states in India, before heading back up to Delhi and Agra so she could see the Taj. As always, traveling here is anything but simple and I've come to be in awe of the people I meet who backpack around the country for months at a time.

First we spent a few days in Hyderabad which meant that I finally got to see all of the sights that the city has to offer. Who knew the massive Golconda Fort or the famous white marble Birla Mandir Hindu temple could be so beautiful. Unfortunately, I was a bit under the weather and concerned I wouldn't be in traveling shape but trying to keep to early nights seemed to do the trick and by Sunday, I was ready to fly off to Kochi, in the heart of what Indians call "God's Own Country" in Kerala. (A note here: this has to be one of the most ironic names ever because the local state government in Kerala is and has been communist for many years).

Kochi is along the Arabian Sea and is famous for its fishing community, in particular, the Chinese fishing nets that many locals use not only to catch fish but also to generate some side income from letting tourists take pictures with them. It was a bit shocking to see so many foreigners on the narrow, brightly colored streets of downtown Kochi and in our hostel. I mean, Hyderabad hardly has any tourists in comparison to many other places in India, so it was a big surprise. But it was also a bit fun to haggle with the touts trying to sell me things and see how taken aback they were by my bargaining and Hinglish, realizing I wasn't just a tourist. Although that didn't mean we weren't hassled plenty.

Our one night in Kochi was spent eating delicious Keralan seafood curry and planning the rest of our trip details in a funky art cafe. I felt worlds away from Hyderabad and the stress involved in living there, although the stress of setting off into the unknown was definitely still present. In fact, the next morning we were supposed to be picked up by a taxi driver to take us to the hill town of Munnar and for some reason, I had a bad feeling something would go wrong.

Sure enough, as the scheduled time to be picked up loomed, I hadn't heard anything from the driver. I finally called him and he politely informed me that he was waiting for us. I said there was no way he could be waiting for us as I was standing in the street outside of our hostel and there was literally no traffic around. "Yes Madam, I am waiting. What time was your flight?" Suddenly, I realized he was at the arrivals gate at the airport, a full hour away from our hostel where I had told the taxi company to send the driver. So, like all good Indian businesses, the taxi company just sent us another driver who was nearby and had no idea he would be our driver for the next five days as the company apparently didn't give him ANY details as to our itinerary. Luckily for us, although Bose lacked many English skills beyond "Madam" and "thank you," he turned out to be a gem of a driver, but more on that later.

We finally set off for Munnar, a former hill station of the British Raj and the seat of tea production in Kerala. We left the lush tropical lowlands of the state and climbed a winding mountain road through beautiful green hills and small, bright villages. As we drove up the Western Ghats and the fresh air streamed into the window, I was reminded again of how much I missed being outdoors in nature. As an Oregonian, being surrounded by green is basically a prerequisite for living and Hyderabad is definitely not green.

Four hours later, we reached Munnar and our hotel which had stunning views over the neatly rowed, bright green tea fields and into the valley below. Plus, we even had a real shower (and by real I mean the shower head was physically separate from the rest of the bathroom) with hot water, a necessity as the temperature at that elevation dropped into the 40s. We spent our day in Munnar touring a tea factory and of course sampling said tea, wandering around the small town that reminded me of a trekking outpost, buying tea, and driving up to "Top Station," the highest point of the area with stunning views of impossibly green and steep mountains dropping into the fog below. And for once, my sweating was at a minimal due to the perfect temperature. Too much information I'm sure but when you live in India, a day without breaking a sweat is special indeed.

The true highlight though had to be the "bonfire" our hotel hosted on the rooftop. And by highlight, I mean funniest and strangely cute thing I'd seen in a while. First off, our bonfire was a small fire surrounded by stobe lights and rejected 90s music that reminded me of childhood Friday nights spent at the roller skating rink. But the true icing on the cake was the older man who was convulsing around, in some imitation of a dance, to the song "Barbie Girl." I had to admire his self-confidence as he imitated a penguin and I can only hope I will do the same when I am in my late 60s.

Unfortunately, it was also at this bonfire that my friend and I discovered we had a problem. Again, in typical Indian fashion, we were informed, quite matter-of-factly and almost cheerfully, that there was a strike in Kerala tomorrow, protesting a dam on the border with Tamil Nadu, and that there would be roadblocks set up on highways from 6AM-6PM and that it may be quite unsafe to travel at that time as people were liable to throw rocks and stop any vehicle trying to pass through. Awesome. Especially seeing as we had to continue on to the mountain animal reserve of Thekkady which was three hours away the next day. And then from Thekkady we had a houseboat we scheduled in the lowlands again, meaning that we really couldn't afford another night in Munnar. So our options were leave the hotel at 3AM that morning to reach Thekkady before sunrise or wait until 6PM and basically not have any time to spend in the area. After consulting our driver who had waited outside of the hotel for us to offer to drive us at 3, we decided to go for it. Of course, we spent three harrowing hours in the early morning, peering around every mountaineous curve, afraid we would be confronted with an angry mob, but we reached our hotel in Thekkady in one piece, shivering the cold but glad to be there.

Of course, that wasn't the end of our dilemma. You see, the draw of Thekkady is that it is the home of the Periyar animal reserve and one of the most popular activities is to take a boat out onto its lake and see wild elephants bathing and all sorts of other wildlife. But, our hotel was unfortunately several kilometers outside of town and as Thekkady just so happened to be on the border of Kerala and Tamil Nadu, it was at the center of the dam conflict. So we were advised not to even try travelling to the lake as there was definitely agitation and it might be closed anyway. We were really disappointed. Granted, the hotel we were marooned at was really a resort on 50 acres which included a pool, a walking path and a massage center but we hadn't really come to the area just to stay there. But it honestly wasn't that hard for me to settle into the rythmn of doing nothing for the day and by the end, I felt reenergized and ready to tackle the rest of Kerala, and, unfortunately, the chaos of New Delhi and Agra the next week...

Brotherly Love

Now that my self-imposed holiday from blog writing is over, it is time to get back into the swing of things, at least briefly. I will avoid all the of New Years clichés of writing about my resolutions (of which I don’t have any) or reflecting on the past year because, well, I think pretty much all I do in this blog is reflect so I’ll spare you the worst of it. However, I will discuss one of the biggest events in the month of January for me which will be the arrival of one of my best friends from home and our subsequent trip down to Kerala and to see the Taj Mahal in Agra. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of stories for you in a few weeks time so just sit tight. However, the prospect of someone from the US who has never been to India arriving has given me new perspective on this country I have called my home for six months.

For one, I am disappointed that my friend will not be able to see my school. It is midterm exams now, which means that my effectiveness at school has decreased exponentially and that my students and teachers will be on holiday for the majority of the month of January. It is nice that my holiday will coincide so well with that of my school but this also means that February is completely full. I will be running the spelling bee at my school then, working on constructing our library and raising books for it, trying to start a reading program at my school, and basically sprinting around all month since it is perhaps the last chance for me to make any impact in my school.

So school aside, another thing I am curious to see is my friend’s reaction to the Indian psyche. By now, ambiguous head wobbles, yes’s when people really mean no, staring and interrogation about your life to the point of rudeness and interference are all an accepted part of my reality. I have to say I hold a sort morbid curiosity to see how my friend will confront the challenges of being in India. But at the same time I also feel a bit of protectiveness. Yes, I can complain as much as possible but I’m a “foreign resident.” I live here. Only I can make fun of India.

All that being said though, I do really look forward to the next few weeks. I remember when I was studying abroad in Spain and one of my friends came to visit. At that point, I was fed up with Spanish lateness, their piropos or catcalls in the streets, the way nobody was rushed to do anything, or the way no one was ever concerned. But seeing Spain in the eyes of someone who hadn’t lived there for a few months and who was new to the place made me see it in a new light and really fall in love with the country all over again, the way I had when I first came there. I wonder if the same thing will happen in India.

You see, a person’s feelings towards a country or a culture are like those of one person towards another person. I have come to realize I foster a living, breathing relationship with India as I have with the United States, Ecuador, Spain and Mexico. This relationship changes and matures with time but it is still there. For instance, I picture the United States as I picture my relationship with my family - stable, understanding, always there for me, but I don’t have to physically be around them to know it is there. Ecuador was like my first crush – the first foray into the unknown, feeling acutely the anxiety and the giddiness and immaturity that comes with it. Spain was my first love and one I will always hold dear to my heart. Mexico was a short acquaintance; a friendship with a gregarious person that you just met, at times beautiful and fun, and at others awkward and a bit lonely. Yet finally there is India. My relationship with this country continues to grow and evolve on a daily basis but I have to say it is like an antagonistic brother. You love it because well, you have to. But it can drive you crazy and sometimes you just need space from it or to complain to Mom about it. Yet it will all of the sudden surprise you and remind you why that love is there in the first place. Once you have been here, India is a part of you forever, and not by choice. It just is.

But of course, who better to judge your current relationship situation than the friends who know you best? I can’t wait to see how my own perspective changes over these next few weeks with the benefit of an outsider’s viewpoint. So here’s to a few weeks of adventure, newness, and hopefully, rejuvenation. Stay tuned for the real story.