Kerala Travels and Beyond

BLOG ENTRY: “KERALA TRAVELS AND BEYOND”

It is 4:00pm on Saturday, May 1, as I sit in my comfortable hotel room in the city of Chennai, in the south Indian state of Tamil Nadu, and begin to write my new blog entry.  I arrived here by overnight sleeper bus from the mountain town of Kodaikanal, where I had been spending the previous 5 days.  I will give more details on these recent events later.  First I return to early April, to the time where my last blog entry left off.

My train ride on April 5 from Kannur to Cochin went smoothly.  In the extremely hot weather at this time of year, I was happy to have been able to reserve a seat in an air-conditioned car.  The train ride took around 7 hours. I got off in Ernakulam, which is on the mainland train stop for Fort Cochin.   Cochin is part of a series of islands that are reached from Ernakulam by ferry or bridge.  Getting off the train I hired an auto rickshaw, which after some discussion with the driver, ended up taking me all the way to Fort Cochin where I intended to stay.

The rickshaw driver hustled me into looking at a “Homestay” of some people he knew.   The “Homestay” tradition is common throughout much of Kerala.  In Fort Cochin there are many of these small establishments, where families let out rooms in part of their home, in the mode of a western “bed-and-breakfast”.  The first place he took me to was new, very clean and I decided to take it without looking further.  I was tired and very hot after my journey and was ready to settle in as quickly as possible.  The family that lived at the “Casa Mia Homestay” included husband, wife, two sons, mother of husband, and various other relatives that seemed to come and go over the few days I was there.

That evening, after resting and getting cleaned up, I wondered around a part of downtown Fort Cochin, where I found a cheap, yet good working mans restaurant.  After eating, and already in my “hustle a concert mode”, I noticed a young man with a violin case walking into a building.  I immediately set out in pursuit and after a brief search found him in a somewhat disorderly room with 5 or 6 other music students, a few with very funky guitars and some old music stands.  At one end of the room was a frail, elderly man going over some simple musical notation with a student.  The violinist I had followed was taking his instrument out of the case.  After a brief discussion he indicated that the old fellow was their music teacher.  I went over, and after a considerable period of waiting, he finally acknowledged my presence.  I explained that I was interested in making contacts with musicians and hoping to set up a concert in Fort Cochin.  It quickly became apparent that he was a very uptight fellow and wanted to have absolutely nothing at all to do with me.  So off I went, in what turned out to be the first episode in a list of futile efforts to set up a concert performance in the Cochin area.

Back on the street, I found and wondered into an interesting second floor bookstore and art gallery. Entering the place I looked at paintings in the gallery section and browsed the excellent bookstore.  I met the owner, Madhu, who is a painter, and he told me about some of the local artists on display.  I asked if he had any suggestions regarding people to contact to help arrange a concert.  I also asked if I could bring in my guitar the next day to play a few tunes for him and his friends as a sort of informal audition.  He was in the midst of teaching summer art classes to children during the day, so we set a meeting time of 6:00pm. I then headed home to my Homestay.  The next day I discovered that the area I was exploring was some distance from the main tourist area of Fort Cochin.

The next day, using my “Lonely Planet” guidebook as a resource, I headed to a café/gallery called the “Draavidia Art & Performance Gallery”.   On my way to finding the place, I came upon the main tourist section of Fort Cochin.  Located near the center of the old port, there are many beautiful Old Portuguese and Dutch buildings and numerous high-end hotels and tourist shops.  Since it is the hot season, tourism is at its lowest ebb, so every street seller was on a major hustle to get my business.  At one point I sat down on a park bench to take a rest.  Three hand drum sellers immediately approached me with the intention of selling me a drum.  I clearly indicated that I was not interested in a purchase, but suggested we have a jam session. Out came my guitar, and the best drummer of the group and I had a good jam.  A small group of locals gathered to watch the show.  After we finished playing, the sales pitch continued as if we had never even played together.  Throughout my travels I have been for the most part treated with generosity and respect, but the hustle in this tourist area displayed another side of the culture.  That side, which exists everywhere on the planet, is where you are seen as an object for material gain and not a spiritual being.

The whole town of Fort Cochin is quite beautiful with lots of history being felt and seen.  One of the striking differences in the State of Kerala, from the rest of India, is the powerful Christian influence.  A large percentage of the population is Catholic, with other evangelical groups also being represented.  In the Cochin area I saw little Hindu influence, and only a few mosques in the city.  Fort Cochin also has a Jewish Synagogue built in 1568, destroyed by the Portuguese in 1662 and rebuilt 2 years later when the Dutch took Cochin.  With all this history and atmosphere it is easy to see why the area is such a tourist attraction.

The café I was looking for is located in what is called “Jew Town”, a busy port area filled with run down buildings, which still deal in the spice trade.  From the small warehouses comes the smell of ginger, cardamom, cumin, vanilla and ginger.  Entering the café, I found the place empty except for the owner, Viju and his one employee.  I ordered a fresh ground pressed coffee and a mixed fruit plate. I had my guitar with me, and after asking, began playing a few tunes while Viju prepared my coffee and fruit.  I told him of my desire to perform a concert.  He explained that he was about to close down the place for the next 2 months during the slow season, and do some traveling.  Viju is a hip fellow with many connections in the artistic, ex-patriot and alternative community in the area.  He suggested I contact a Yoga teacher named Abe.  He gave me a copy a promotional card used by Abe to help people become aware of his “Sanathana Global School of Yoga Studies”.  Viju and I had a good talk and I then headed off in the direction of my meeting with Madhu at his “Eka Gallery and Book Store”.   Somewhat lost in my wondering through the city, I finally found my way to my next destination.

At 6:00pm the gallery was quite busy with many friends of Madhu hanging around.  After some conversation I pulled out my guitar and was politely set up for a mini performance.  All present seemed to enjoy my playing and singing.  I enquired about the possibility of performing a concert at the gallery, which struck me as a good location for a small recital.  I suggested a Sunday evening, when the area was quieter, due to the lack of commerce at that time.  Madhu’s resistance to the idea was immediate.  He said he would have to talk with his partners and it would be very difficult to arrange, etc.  One of his friends suggested I call a Mr. Suchendran who is program coordinator for the “Kerala Kathakali Center”.

I made that call the next day and went in for a meeting and audition that evening.  Upon entering the Center I met Mr. Suchendran. I paid to enter the evening show and heard a Carnatic singer perform with tabla, harmonium and another drummer.  It was an enjoyable show and I continued my Indian music learning curve.  After the show and the small audience of tourists left, I was invited on stage to do my thing.  The young tabla player remained on stage and we played a few of my more rhythmic tunes together.  I then performed alone doing 2 classical guitar numbers.  To my surprise Mr. Suchendran asked me to come back the next night and perform with the Veena player who would be performing that night. It was not what I had in mind, but I thought it might be fun and provide another chance to play with an Indian musician.

The next night I arrived shortly after the performance had begun.  It turned out the Veena player was not performing.   Instead, Mr. Suchendran was singing to an audience of 8 tourists.  He totally ignored my presence during the show.  After the show finished I went up to say hello and find out what had happened.  He avoided contact with me until I directly greeted him.  He told me the Veena player was sick and that was the end of our communication.  So another possible performance did not happening in Fort Cochin.  As it turned out, my musical experience for the remainder of my time in the area was rich and full, in a variety of wonderful unexpected ways.

Oh so hot!!!  Sleeping naked all night with no cover, the overhead fan on high speed to at least circulate the hot air.  I was taking at least 2 showers a day, with more when circumstances permitted.  I was still staying at the “Casa Mia Homestay”.  I used their computer to do my email and even made a few skype calls to Ian and Jeremy.  A Catholic family, their home is filled with church symbols.  Over the few days of my stay I got to know the family somewhat better.  So the next morning I borrowed the small bicycle of the older son, and after getting directions, peddled the 4 km to the  “Sanathana Global School of Yoga Studies”.  This was my first excursion into self-driving in India.  I am glad my destination did not require me to pass through any high traffic areas.  The ride was great fun and brought India into a different perspective then that seen during my usual modes of transport; walking, buses, trains, auto-rickshaws and cars.

Arriving at the gate of Abe’s place I found the gate locked.  Somehow I sensed that he would be back soon. So I hung around the front gate for around 20 minutes watching the neighborhood activities.  Then Abe arrived on his motor scooter.  A thin, very fit fellow of 50, Abe has a wispy graying beard and moustache and long hair tied back in a bun.  Dressed in the traditional cotton cloth wrap, worn by men all over Kerala, Abe fit into my image of an Indian Yogi.

I was warmly greeted and we entered Abe’s beautiful home.  Abe built this 2-story place around 10 years ago.  A simple place, with a modest green area leading up to the front porch, I was immediately struck by the attention given to detail everywhere I looked.  The first floor consists of a comfortably sized covered front porch that leads into a living room.  Off to one side is the single bedroom and to the back is a simple kitchen area.  Out back is a small patio with one end containing a toilet and shower.  The other end of the patio has a small area where Abe houses a few chickens and his cat, which is currently with kittens.  An exterior staircase leads to his yoga studio.  At the top of the stairs is a large covered porch with a beautiful view of the Arabian Sea.  The studio space consists of one large room with a small shrine, folded mats and other decorative features.  Throughout the home/studio, it is the sense of artistry and care taken with every detail of construction and design, that makes this simple but elegant place stand out.

This first meeting was the beginning of a warm and deepening friendship that took place over many days of interaction.  Abe is a fountain of knowledge about so many things.  Indian history, religion, philosophy, plants, herbs, birds, stars, western popular music and South Indian Carnatic music are just a few of his areas of knowledge.  On that first day I watched him teach yoga to a group of around 10 neighborhood boys from around ages 9 to 14.  Watching him work with these young boys was a delight.  Speaking and singing in Malayalam, the regional language, I could not understand his stories and instructions, but the tone and approach were very special and the boys responded with so much enthusiasm and dedication.  Later we played music, Abe on bamboo flute, me on guitar.  Over the coming days I made great advances in my understanding and performance of Carnatic Raga.  Abe made good progress in his ability to jam in a more harmonic western musical approach, so there was a wonderful trade in experience and understanding.  I also met some of his friends as well as local and international yoga students. I participated in one of his group yoga classes and found it very rewarding.  During my time spent at his house Abe arranged for me to meet and play with a fine Sitar player.  We had an excellent 3 hour session together trading and sharing music and ideas.

During that first day at Abe’s I met Blue Charles, a recent new friend and business associate.  Blue has had a career in business and is in the process of trying to set up a group of independent, but connected places for travelers in India to visit and stay.  Blue and his family live in Ernakulam, which is the larger city connected to Cochin by bridge and ferry.  His wife, 3 children, and mother-in-law live on a lovely piece of property that his wife inherited from her father when he passed away.  Blue built a large new home for his family and put considerable expense and energy into fixing up the lovely older home.  The large grounds are filled with tropical fruit trees and numerous other plants.  He has hosted a number of travelers, and is in the process of developing and promoting his Homestay for a particular type of traveler.  I was invited to stay at his place for a few days.  Then Blue, Abe and myself would drive to the Munnar area in Blue’s car, where we would be visiting a friend, Saji, who is developing a rural home for traveling guests and trying to create an organic farm at the same location.  Blue wanted to show the place to Abe, whose advice and opinions he greatly respects.  I was intending to head up to that area anyway, so it all fit in perfectly with my plans.

So the next morning I packed my bags, left “Mia Casa Homestay”, and later in the day, after spending time at Abe’s place, drove with Blue to my new temporary home.  Our trip to Munnar was delayed a few days, so I ended up spending around 5 nights at Blue’s place.  I was treated warmly by his wife, Liz, and his son Leigh (15) and two daughters, Laurene (11) and Lhea (9).  Liz’s mother, Daisy, who is in her 80’s, and the mother of 9 children, somehow reminded me of my mother in her later years, as she would wonder around the grounds admiring plants and trees.  Blue also connected me with some local musician friends and we a some good jam sessions.  I had a wonderful time at their place, eating well, relaxing, playing music and enjoying the family and environment.

One day Blue took me to the wedding of a family member on his wife’s side.  A big Catholic affair, with hundreds of guests, we arrived late for the ceremony, but in time to eat and socialize.  As usual, it was so hot; especially in the reception hall after the power went out, and all the ceiling fans stopped working.  Blue asked my to bring my guitar and arranged to have me play a wedding song for the new bride and groom.  Up on the stage, where they were receiving guests and taking photos, I played them one song as both the bride and groom melted in their heavy wedding attire.  Outside we met an old family friend of his, a very eccentric fellow, who is quite wealthy, but spends much of his time, fishing and selling prawns in a backwaters area some distance from Cochin.  Blue wanted Abe to see the place as a possible location for taking visiting guests. So the next day, after an hours drive, with a stop at a local village for snacks, we met up with this strange fellow.  He is somewhat handicapped from a youthful case of polio, but he paddled us out to his fishing operation.  With only a long push stick we very slowly made our way in his 12-foot long, rustic, heavy wood canoe.  After around an hours struggle against strong currents and wind we finally made it to our destination, which was actually only a few hundred yards distant from our starting point.  Spending his nights in a small shack, on a tiny strip of manmade land, this fellow fishes for prawns according to the tidal flow.  While there he fed us a meal of prawns and rice.  After spending around 2 hours, with some singing and conversation, we quickly paddled back to our car and headed home.

Parts of most days were spent at Abe’s playing music and talking with visitors.  I met many interesting people and learned new aspects of Indian culture.  The day arrived for our drive to Munnar and beyond.  We would be heading directly to Saji’s place around 40 km northeast of Munnar, where Blue and Abe planned to spend 2 nights.  Blue had told me about a legendary 75-year-old man named Jake, who lived nearby.  I somehow felt that two of us would hit-it-off, and that possibly I would be able to stay at his place for some additional days.  Originally planning to leave around 8:00am, we finally left Fort Cochin around noon.  We headed out in Blue’s car at super high speeds for the 5-6 hour drive.  Along narrow, twisting mountain roads we endlessly climbed.  After around 2 hours we came into the area of tea plantations.  Mile after mile of tea estates, with perfectly manicured hillsides, planted in beautiful formations.  It was breathtakingly beautiful.  Onward we speed, taking a few breaks to eat, see a view and smoke.  I have neglected to mention so far, that Abe, Blue and many others in India, that I have been spending time with, are chain smokers of both tobacco and other substances.  So as we speed around blind turns making breathtaking passes.  As we speed along my meditation was on trust, and we did arrive safe and sound.

We spent 2 nights a Saji’s place, eating, talking, playing music and building campfires at night.  It was amazing to actually want to be close to a fire to keep warm, after a month of living in sweltering heat day and night.  I met Jake, and after we spent some time together, he invited me to stay with him at his home around ½ km from Saji’s place.  Saji, his other visiting friends, Blue and Abe were all heading back to Cochin the next day.  So after two nights at his place, I packed up my bags and moved in with Jake and his two dogs.

Jake is a remarkable fellow, and over the 8 days I spent with him we established a close friendship.  Living in a lovely home overlooking the terraced mountain and high woodlands Jake spends his days observing nature, playing with his dogs, doing some gardening, listening to music and watching tennis and cricket games on his TV.  He has a nephew who built the house and takes care of all his financial needs.  During my stay we told each other about our lives, I played many hours of music and we went for some long walks.  Jake never got married but appears to have had female companions over the years.  He spent most of his life wandering around India.  During his early travels he worked at various trades including master welder and cheese maker, but has spent much of his time living out of a backpack and getting by day to day.  From talking with his friends I gather that he has become somewhat of a legend as a wondering mystic while interacting with both international travelers and Indians.  He is almost completely self-taught, very well read, extremely knowledgeable about the world around him and a kind and generous person.  He is a non-stop smoker of tobacco and weed and enjoys drinking when available.  Over the years, since his youth he has used numerous psychedelic drugs, including taking many mushrooms, which grow in the area. With all this experience behind him he is amazingly clear headed, articulate and wise.  At age 75, our walks together were leisurely, but energetic.  He once told me that J. Krishnamurti was his god.  He said that when he first read his writing at around the age of 30, he had finally found someone who viewed life as he had since early childhood.  What wonderful days we had together, watching the rain clouds gather every afternoon and after the rain watching rainbows appear.  I spent many hours on his porch playing classical guitar music and improvising.  Very knowledgeable about both Indian raga and western classical and popular music, he once asked me if I knew a particular piece by JS Bach, which he proceeded to whistle.  I was amazed when he started the tune, because it was the only musical score I had carried to India, with the intention of learning during my travels.  I immediately pulled it out and began once again studying it, to his great pleasure.

Loving the cool mountain weather and feeling in excellent health, I had decided to take the 6-7 hour walk across the mountains to Kodaikanal, rather then take the 8-9 hour round-about bus ride.  Jake, who has done the hike in past years, suggested a local fellow to guide me and help carry my bags.  So after 8 days with Jake, I set off with my “guide” at 6:30 am.  The plan was to arrive at the organic farm of a friend of his named John, who would then drive me to Kodaikanal where I would be staying with another friend, a painter named Eddie.  The only English my guide knew was the term “short-cut”.  Down steep paths we headed, in the direction of two small villages, before then heading up over the mountain range.  Two hours later we got to the villages, where we stopped for tea and a short rest, before heading up into the native forest, along footpaths used for hundreds of years to cross this mountain chain.  My guide liked to use “shortcuts”, which initially saved us some time.  After leaving the last village, we were doing continuous hard climbing.  My legs were getting tired, but I felt confident that I could complete the journey.  Jake had packed us a lunch of potatoes and chapati.  Every hour or so we would stop for rest and water, and a bite to eat now and then.  Finally after over 3 hours of hard climbing we reached the top.  Ahh, I thought, downhill for the last leg of the trip.  Following the trail on the top ridge we had a short level stretch.   Then suddenly my guide said “Shortcut”, and off we headed through the trees with no trail to follow.  An hour later we were totally lost, hacking our way through virgin forest, often on the edge steep precipices, and rain clouds coming on strong.  And to make the situation even better, we had no way to communicate a good plan of action.  Onward we plodded down, down, sometimes sliding on our rear-ends down slops of 70 degrees.  Four hours later we finally entered a farming valley with a small farmhouse around 1km distant.  My guide had no idea where we had come out of the forest.  When we finally found some people, I gathered they told him we were some 8 km distance from where we should have come out.  So off we went.  Now it was up and up again.  My feet and legs were very tired, but I had no choice but to plod onward.  I must also say that my guide was also showing sighs of being extremely tired.  After another hour of walking on a good trail through a wooded area, we came to a crossroads with a large wood post in the middle.  I suggested that we continue on straight, my guide thought we should go left.  Left we went, and after a short distance the rain began.  I was most concerned about my guitar getting soaked.  Just then we saw a small hut, and I made a quick turn to enter the property through the wood gate guarded by two mangy dogs.  Just as the rain really began to pour we arrived.  An old man came to the small door and we entered.  This poor old farmer inhabited this extremely small, 2-room hut.  The thatched roof had a few leaks, but at least we were out of the heavy rain and hail.  We were also out of drinking water, so after around 15 minutes of heavy rain, I filled our water containers from the water pouring off the thatched roof.  The two of them conversed.  After a while I pulled out my guitar and played a few tunes.  Two hours later, after the rain reduced to a slow mist, we headed out.  The farmer pointed out a short cut to get to the correct path to our final destination.  Ten minutes later we were back at the crossroads heading in the direction I had thought best.  It turned out that under the circumstances the wrong turn he had suggested was best, because for the next hour we didn’t see another house, and would have been totally soaked in the rainstorm, on a path that was like a river.  Finally, after 12 hours of hiking, passing through another village, at 6:30pm, we arrived at John’s farm.  John had long ago left for Kodaikanal, where he lives with is family, so we spent the night at the farm for a hefty fee.  I was so tired and sore I could barely move or eat and fell into bed for a much needed rest. One of my toe nails, on my left foot was totally destroyed and extremely painful.  A few days later the nail came off.  Other then that and extremely sore leg muscles for a few days, I look back at it all as a great adventure.  I did see one native deer, but no elephants or wild bison that roam the forests where we were traveling.

I was ready to be done with my guide and had paid him more then Jake had suggested for his services.  He seemed to want to stay with me until Kodaikanal, so I paid both our bus fares from the road near the farm to Kodai, where I then hoped to part ways with this fellow.  It was my understanding that he would be taking a bus back to Munnar, and then finding his way back home from there.  When we arrived in Kodai he asked for more money.  In a job that should have gotten him home on the same day we left, we spent large amounts of extra energy and time because of his incompetence.  I gave him some more cash for his bus fare, but still he would not leave me.  Because of the language barrier, I could not understand why he wanted to stay with me.

So off went together, in my hired taxi, to Eddies place, which is around an 8km distance from Kodaikanal, in a place called Vaddakanal.  On arriving, we passed through his gate, and up a stone pathway to his guesthouse.  It was my understanding from talking with Eddie on the phone, that I would be paying a daily fee for my room and board.  Eddie saw us coming and headed down from his home higher up the hill.  I told him I did not know why my guide had followed me here.  They conversed and Eddie told me he wanted more money, a lot more, for his work.  I refused, explained the situation to Eddie, and ended up giving him another 100 rupees at Eddie’s suggestion.  I assume he is now back home at his usual work as the village rock splitter.  What a journey we shared together.

I spent the next 4 nights at Eddie’s place.  A very fine painter, he has sold his work around the world and in India.  He has traveled to Germany, Iceland and other places for one-man shows.  Mostly a landscape painter working in oil, he is currently doing watercolor.  My 4 days at his place were somewhat strange.  He and his friends were in the midst of a psychodrama revolving around a mentally deranged woman who has suffered years of abuse since her childhood.  For various reasons she has had years of direct contact with Eddie and some of his good friends.  I will not go into the details, but suffice it to say, that they were all acting out their own highly emotional dramas, related to the situation.  Endless chatter, blame and confusion with each other limited my communication with all these people.  They were all so self-absorbed that even my calming music did not seem to sink in.  It was an interesting four days with some interesting characters.

I did get to play music with a German flute player for a few hours.  And then on my last day I met and played music with an Indian medical Doctor, named Mathew.  He is currently working at the International School where I had been scheduled to play a concert.  That event was cancelled because of end of semester exams and other school conflicts, but I did meet the school music director, with whom I had conversed on the phone while making the concert arrangements.  Mathew and I played together in the school chapel.  American Christian Missionaries founded the Kodaikanal International School in the late 1800’s.  Mathew is an excellent guitarist and songwriter and we had a wonderful 3 hours exchanging songs and playing together.  We had good communication during our short time together and spending my last hours with such a warm soul was a great way to end my stay in Kodai.

Before catching my 6:00pm all night sleeper bus to Chennai, I decided to have a meal at a Tibetan Restaurant located near the bus station.  The owner’s daughter was eating boiled vegetables, which looked just right, so I ordered that.  Well, by the next morning, I barely made it to a hotel in Chennai.  After 4 months in India, I finally had been initiated to what is sometimes called by international travelers, “Delhi Belly”.  I just made it to the toilet at my hotel in time to empty my insides all over the place.  What a mess that was.  With my still sore toe, a broken nail on my guitar plucking hand and a stomach in a state of upheaval, I was a mess.  But after a few more hours of emptying out my system, some sleep and getting cleaned up, I headed out for the most important order of business, getting my nails fixed.  I knew of a place in Chennai that did the job I needed done, and found my way there.  They did a great job and I was now ready to meet my classical guitar contact in Chennai.

Samuel Thangadurai is the classical guitar man in this city.  I met him at his teaching studio that evening (Wednesday) and he agreed to set up a house concert for the coming Friday.  What a great guy.  He made it all so easy. So on Friday evening I played a concert for around 25 guitarists and guitar music lovers.  It went beautifully and I even earned some modest rupees for my efforts.

It is now Sunday, and in a few hours I will be heading out to watch his 15-member guitar ensemble rehearse.  Tomorrow I plan to take a bus to Pondicherry, where I plan to spend some days.  I have now spent a least 8 hours writing up this blog entry and hope to proof it and send it out tomorrow morning, before catching my bus.  I am back in great health, feeling full of energy, and look forward to my next month of adventures before connecting up with my son, Jeremy, who flies into Delhi at the end of May.  So until my next blog… enjoy.

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