Trip to the Backwaters near Kottayam - Part 6

"I had a little nut tree, nothing would it bear
But a silver nutmeg and a golden pear
The king of Spain's daughter came to visit me
And all for the sake of my little nut tree"

Anyone remember that verse from childhood? Well, we didn't see any silver nutmegs, but golden ones, yes. So I guess we should change the verse:)


As you see from Thampi's pointing, nutmeg does grow on a tree. The nutmeg produces three useful things: Chutney is made from one of the outer layers, mace from an inner, orangey layer, and the inner seed is the nutmeg that is so popular in our eggnog lattes and pumpkin pies.


Thampi showed us the super-fragrant bay leaf and then we moved on to the cinnamon tree from which he removed a little chunk to pass around. Ahhh! This was a world of enchantment. All the spices I had tasted and loved, and that I had seen dried and stored in the huge warehouse in Kochi, I was now seeing in their live state. Not far away was a thatched building, and the owner’s laundry strung between the coconut palms.


After we had wandered back to our boats, Thampi’s friends brought coconuts for us and, chopping the ends, supplied us with straws to drink the milk, then split them open so we could eat some of the fresh coconut meat. Now I know why the Thai ice cream that is made with fresh coconut is so heavenly. A couple of curious young men stood on the bank to watch us enjoy the coconuts.

Trip to the Backwaters near Kottayam - Part 5

Apologies for my lapse - the 60 degree difference in temperature between Kerala and Portland caught up with me in the form of larygitis and other upper respiratory symptoms - but thankfully, those have disappeared.

This brings me to our next stop on the journey, which was a spice farm owned by a Christian family. They also owned a goat and a cow, each of which greeted us on our way up the path from the water.


Thampi first showed us the local version of home-brew: the flower of a certain kind of coconut is bruised and a clay pot is placed over it to catch the ooze it begins to produce. After about a day this produces a “toddy” which is enjoyed, perhaps too regularly, by members of the villages. I guess the name of this drink is another of the many gifts which of British Imperialism, not the least of which is a penchant for unending red tape (but more on that later as well). In the photo you see the coconuts (yellow-orange) and the larger brown clay pot which is there to catch and store the liquor.


The next thing we saw was black pepper, which Thampi told us comes from the same plant as green, red and white pepper. It’s just that they are harvested at different times in the plant’s growth cycle. The black pepper is a vine and needs something sturdy to climb on so that it can be properly harvested. Here you see the green peppercorns growing on the vines.

Trip to the Backwaters near Kottayam - Part 4

One of the most charming accessories to this experience was the gathering of daughters of the people whose home we were visiting. My guesses of their ages: 12, 8, 6 and 3. Bronwen quickly made their acquaintance and joined them on the steps of their home. The smallest one was a scamp and blocked the door when Thampi tried to go in to his friend’s home for a drink of water.


You also see in the photo, a real live spice grinder, and every household has one in this land where all our spices come from and where the “spice trade” that we have all heard about in our history classes (if we were lucky enough to have history classes about something other than the wars America has engaged in). The history of this area is fascinating, but more on that later; much of it derives from the fact that many spices are endemic to this area. Smitta was knowledgeable about the spice grinder and gave us a short demonstration of how the thing works – basically a huge mortar and pestle with the pestle in the prone position.

Trip to the Backwaters near Kottayam - Part 3

Our first stop was at a home of coir-rope producers. We climbed ashore and came upon three women working together. One sat at a wheel, which she turned by hand. The wheel was rigged so that it turned metal loops, through which were attached the beginnings of the ropes. The other two women carried bags stuffed with the prepared coconut hair. To begin the procedure, they pulled out enough of the coconut hair to attach to the metal loops. It naturally adheres to itself in a way that is similar to wool after it has been carded.


Once the ends were attached to the loops, the two women pulled out two threads each, feeding it towards the twisting wheel, which was turned by the woman in red. (Thank God I have some photos to illustrate this – am I making any sense?) The turning of the loops twists the coir as it is being paid out by the two that walked backwards as they were creating the rope. When they had gone as far back as their arrangement allowed, they twisted their two strands together to make a two-ply rope. The final product was about 3/8 inch thick.




When Thampi explained the process, he did a personal little demonstration of the whole thing, just using his hands. When his ten-inch-long sample was finished, he challenged anyone to break it with his hands. A couple of volunteers gave it a whirl but, of course, were unsuccessful.

Trip to the Backwaters near Kottayam - Part 2

After finding our spots in the boat, we were launched by our valakaren, Sabu, who was younger than Thampi, tall, handsome and muscular without a scrap of chub to be seen on him. After watching his poling technique and realizing that this is something he does for many hours a day, no explanation for his fat-to-muscle ratio was necessary. We started off in a lagoon like area, bordered with water hyacinth and a species of water lily that had a delicate fluffy white flower about the size of a fifty-cent piece.


Soon we were funneled into one of the narrow channels, which was about three times as wide as the boat. There were points at which it was necessary for us to duck our heads to pass under an overhanging branch, or lean forward so as not to be scratched on the back or side by the “screw pineapple”.


As you can see from the photos, Thampi was a bean-pole of a man, with a charming smile. When he addressed the larger group as we gathered around him on shore, he began each talk with “Sir!” thus getting our attention whether we were sirs or not. He was very animated, using hand gestures to point out details we would otherwise have missed.

Trip to the Backwaters near Kottayam - Part 1

I'll be reporting on things out of order, which won't matter to most of you, but just in case members of the group read some of this, I don't want them to be confused:)

This was one of my favorite parts of our India experience. I will be giving it to you in installments.

The day began in typical interesting fashion. We boarded our small bus excited about our trip to Kottayam where we would begin our exploration. This area is composed of various islands and peninsulas, all of which supports incredible bio-diversity typical of the state of Kerala which boasts more than 500 species of birds and 17,000 species of flowering plants. We started off and, after a 10-minute drive, picked up fellow tourists of the European variety. After another 10-15-minute drive we noticed that we were right back in our neighborhood. Logic: forget about it.


The drive to Kottayam took an hour and a half, so by the time we got there the ladies were ready to use the facilities. See said facilities in two photos here, outside and inside. (Above please note initial view of facilities - yes, it's that yellow blob). This project was to be approached very carefully, so as not to repeat errors made in China:


#1 – check to see that you have TP or some equivalent in your hand or pocket
#2 – remember to roll up pant cuffs and tuck all clothing carefully out of the line of fire
#3 – don’t start off too enthusiastically, since taking aim is an unfamiliar activity for females
#4 – have your friend stand guard so a European man doesn’t catch you unawares
#5 – advise said European men to walk around back and relieve themselves, sans facilities, since they are equipped for this and it will speed up the line
There – now you know how to approach the project, whether you are male or female.

Once this necessity had been dispensed with, we were ready for our adventure. The boats were made of Jack Tree wood, apparently these are not native to the area, but were brought here by the Brits, along with mahogany. The boards had been drilled and lashed together with coir rope, the production of which is a cottage industry in this area. The boats, about four and a half feet wide and forty feet long, are slathered with a kind of fish oil, which helps preserve the wood and rope.




The main seats were thick boards fastened to the gunnels, and were supplemented by a couple of plastic chairs placed at the one third and two thirds positions. Our group filled one boat and the other tourists (mostly Europeans) filled two others. I had one of the plastic thrones, which worked fine for me – people with a greater desire for stability preferred the solid planks. The craft was propelled along by a boatman (valakaren) in the stern who used his long bamboo pole to move us peacefully along. Our guide, Thampi, (the thin fellow in photo above) stood or sat near the front and instructed us about the plants, birds, and other aspects of life in the area.


Here you see Bronwen, comfortable and ready to enjoy her Safari into the backwaters.

Kaleidoscopic India

How does a kaleidoscope work? Many pieces of colored glass or plastic fall against the mirrors inside the tube. I look through the peephole in one end and twist the cylinder to the right or left. The pieces fall into ever-changing patterns but their essential nature remains the same.

Why do I say India is kaleidoscopic in nature? First of all, I see it through my very limited perspective. All that has shaped me affects my perception, binding and focusing it - limiting my understanding. I see through the narrow channel of my western mind.

Rich saffron, cerise, electric royal blue, chartreuse - each color as intense as the next in saris, salwar kameez, children's school uniforms, buildings painted marigold and bubble-gum pink, black and gold bumblebee rickshaws on three wheels. All these fall together and separate in undulating, organic fashion.

Here time is not segmented into chunks but is a tide on which we rise and fall. The kaleidoscope of India turns smoothly, without the rigid jerkiness of regimentation. All the elements are here, and seemingly will remain so as long as time exists.

(Sorry - no photos yet to illustrate. Perhaps tomorrow the internet connection will be kind)