Carol goes to Kerala

June 21-22

During the wheelchair course in Bangalore, Binoy, from Kerala, as state in south India, had been inviting me to come visit his family and to see Kerala. I had given myself some extra days after the course, and this seemed like a great opportunity to see a different part of India, and get out of the city. It was a 14 hour bus ride away however, so Friday as soon as the course was over, we headed off to catch the night bus to get to Binoy's home in rural Kerala. The nearest larger town was Kottayam, quite near the south-west coast of the tip of India.

It was dark before we got to the outskirts of Bangalore, so I was delighted to wake up the next morning to beautiful windy, tree-lined roads, which the bus was taking at an alarming speed. While the vegetation was tropical, I felt like I could be in rural anywhere, and it seemed like at last I was getting to see the 'real' India after the hustle and bustle of the city. Binoy's father picked us up from the bus drop off, and we headed to his house to meet Binoy's wife (who was 8 months pregnant), and the rest of his family.


After a short rest, most of us headed out to show me the sights of the surrounding area. Binoy, after being away at the course, stayed home with his wife, but it still meant that myself, his parents, brother, sister and her three boys all crammed into the car. It seemed a bit ridiculous that I got the front seat to myself when they were all crammed into the back seat, but in their hospitality they insisted. It was a lovely drive, which I got to enjoy mostly on my own, since Binoy's family spoke very little English.

We drove about an hour to Kumaradom, where we rented a boat to see the backwaters. The backwaters is an area that was flooded 500 years ago or so, and there are many interconnecting canals and lakes that people live around and on. It was beautiful to travel through, and see the variety of life, both human an animal that flourishes there. I took lots of pictures particularly of this, and of the whole weekend, which are posted here.

After exploring the backwaters we all piled back into the car and headed to a beach near Alappuzha, where I was delighted to kick off my shoes and wade into the Indian Ocean. I would have loved to go swimming, but as there only were a few male teenagers playing in the surf, it wouldn't have been appropriate. Here I am enjoying it with Binoy's mother.

There was a playground there, for the kids, so we went and played for a bit before heading back home for a yummy dinner. The food was a bit different here, but still very yummy, and not too hot, despite many people's warnings about southern Indian spicing. One thing that I'd never had before was tapioca – at least not in the form of a root that is tastes much like a potato. They seemed to eat that as well as rice as a main carbohydrate source.

Sunday morning Binoy and his wife took me out to see the rubber tree plantations that are a main source of income for the region. It's the sap of the rubber tree that is used to make rubber, and it seemed to be tapped in a way somewhat similar to maple syrup. I also was delighted that Binoy let me drive his car the 5 mins to the field – my first time driving in 6 months, and my first chance to drive a left handed stick shift (on the left side of the road).

Binoy's father is a Pentecostal pastor, and the church is in a large room in their house. As we got ready for church, I was thinking of the contrast between the familiar Anglican service in English the week before, and the Pentecostal service in the local language that I was about to attend. And there were certainly contrasts. Like the Nepali church, men and women sat on separate sides of the room, on the floor. All the women wore their shalls over their heads during the service (some do in Nepal). It was a loud service, with lots of time for communal praise and prayer (in which everyone talks at once), and by the end of the 3.5 hour service I was getting a bit of headache.

All the same, I was really glad to be there, and be a part of it all – to share with Christians worshiping in their own way in their own language and style. I was asked the night before to play a song on the guitar and share a bit, which made me a bit nervous. I did it all in English, and Binoy translated. I was struck by the contrast of the Christian church in southern India, which traces it's roots back to St. Thomas' preaching there in the first century AD, and the church in Nepal which has been going for only 50 years. It was neat to be able to share about the church in Nepal to their neighbours in India!

After the service all the kids wanted their pictures taken, and I was happy to oblige, particularly with a couple of boys who had kept me entertained by smiling shyly at me when the sermon got long. There wasn't much time to hang around though, as I had a bus to catch mid-afternoon. After a quick lunch they plied me with food and gifts for the trip back, and sent me on my way. It was such a short visit, but yet was such a wonderful experience for me.

One impression that I had while driving around Kerala was the fact that about three quarters of the men wore skirts. Quite short skirts often. Men in long wraps is not such a foreign thing to me, but wraps above the knees or higher seemed quite startling to me. They were particularly distracting because they looked like they were about to fall off (particularly on men with more of a belly) and men were constantly adjusting them. Eventually, I sorted out that these short wraps were in fact the long wraps folded up and tucked into the belt (and are called Mundu's). So the part that looked like it was falling off was in fact the tucked in bit. It did fall out fairly easily, and men could regularly be seen tucking or un-tucking the folded up part of the wrap – but unlike my first impression, they actually weren't dressing in public. I had trouble not letting my western viewpoint take over when I saw a slim workman in a short, bright pink wrap, but I can imagine it is a cooler way to go when working outdoors in the heat. However in general it seemed to me like the men look a bit scruffy, or like they'd just stepped out of the shower, quite a contrast to the women who uniformly were beautifully dressed in kurtas or saris.