What a last week it's been! I am happy to report that I am leaving India without absolutely hating it. Yes, its true there have been times where I've hated this country with every fibre in my being, but I'm leaving here satisfied that I really gave it all I got and with the knowledge that I will probably never ever come here again. It certainly has been a real test of strength and not a "holiday" like the Indians like to call it. And I am so happy and relieved that in a matter of hours I will be leaving this sub continent for perhaps an even crazier continent, but hey, the crazy you know is so much easier than the crazy you don't know! I think if I had to do it all over again, I would skip everywhere I went before Nepal (Delhi Agra Varanasi) and either spent that time in northern India or spent more time down south in Kerala.
Kerala is absolutely the most beautiful part of India and seems like an entirely different country. It is so lush and green. It looks nothing like what india looked like in my head before I came here. It prides itself on the fact that it is both the wealthiest and most educated state in the country. I suspect this has something to do with the long legacy of communism over the past 50 odd years (see world, socialism=good). This also means that women have more autonomy and you actually see them out and about working jobs and running for office. This was such a breath of fresh air compared to the male dominated ass backwards situations everywhere else I've been where the absense of women in all realms of society was staggering. Even being back in Mumbai today, which I absolutely love, is just a sea of men. I can't wait to get back to those women run villages of Kenya!
Fort Cochin was a darling little town and probably the most relaxing place I've been here. The people in Kerala are so genuinely friendly and relaxed, not to mention that the food I ate was amazing. I went to this legendary restaurant called Dal Roti and had the best indian meal of my life. I tried going back there twice afterwards but both times it was closed and I now forever have this longing inside of me for that meal again. Sigh.
My second day in Cochin, I went on a backwaters cruise on an old wooden boat which is the thing to do in central Kerala. The backwaters are basically a system of rivers and lakes that run north south in Kerala just in off the coastline. Normally, it's pretty expensive to do and you get sardined into a boat with many other tourists but because of the heat and pending monsoon, it's low tourist season which means that it was cheap and there was only me and one other guy on the boat.
My boat companion was an American guy named Forrest who works in theatre and lives in Brooklyn. We got along swell and it was so nice to have sintilating conversation about north American politics etc (I was still raging over the stuffed sausage being re-elected). Our drive out to the waters from town was rather amusing as we had a lunatic driver who was hillarious. I love it when you can totally bond with someone and laugh hysterically despite not being able to speak a word of each others languages. We stopped at a road side cafe for chai and Forrest and I bought our driver a cup. He then pocketed our change without a second thought. The boat we were on was fantastic. Very old school with two guys paddeling the boat with long smoothed poles Venice gondola style. It was a serene and relaxing day. I don't know the exact meaning of a "bayou" but I feel like this was it. The plant and bird life were really interesting as well. Lotus flowers and Lilly pads, cranes and kingfishers, and tons of spices which reminded me of the amazing spice tour my mum and I went on in Zanzibar. The people living in the area are mostly fishermen but they produce other things as well like rope made from twisted coconut fibre. They also harvest sand which seems kind of insane but apparently fairly lucrative. We had an amazing banana leaf Thali lunch and stuffed ourselves to the gills before finishing our boat trip in some man made canals made for harvesting banana and mango trees.
After Getting back to town, I ran into this handicapped guy I'd seen around town a few times and he asked if I would have dinner with him. His name is machu (he introduces himself as machu pichu) and he spends his time drawing despite his serious dissability of twisted arms and little legs that he can't walk on. It was a bit of a process to go out for dinner with him because he can't walk and has to be lifted in and out of rickshaws, up and down stairs, and on and off of chairs. To be honest, I wasn't totally thrilled about having dinner with him at first (which I now feel totally guilty about) but he turned out to be a really sweet guy with a very kind heart. Last night, my last night in Cochin, I met him again for dinner and he gave me a picture that he drew for me. He's a very nice man and I feel sad for him that he is lonely a lot of the time because of the stigmatization he encounters here.
The day after the backwaters trip I decided to head further south and go to Amma's ashram. Before I left however, I decided to hit up that cafe for another round of French toast and met a nice Canadian guy in the process. So nice to talk to a fellow Canadian! I don't think I've met any in India. Chris lives in toronto and studies Tibetan studies. He was also reading the same book as me-shantaram-which I am obsessed with. Honestly, pick up a copy of this book. You won't regret it. Chris told me an interesting tid bit about indian men that I had actually heard before. Indian men only know 4 types of women: wives, daughters, widows, and prostitutes. When they see western women, they know they don't fit into the first three categories (at least for them) so they slot us into the fourth. Right. I won't go into a diatribe about how retarded this is, even for someone who is uneducated (like why would rich white women fly to India to be hookers??) but at least now you have a sense of what I've been dealing with for the past 7 weeks.
The other thing I had to do before heading to the ashram was get rabies shot number 3-hurrah! Let me tell you, the ernakulum general hospital was an experience and a half. It was probably 40 degrees that day and there were hundreds and hundreds of people lined up outside of these numerous out patient windows for different categories of ailments. Thankfully I got out of there fairly fast.
Now. The ashram. Where to begin? I know a number of people, some of my closest friends really, who have spent extended periods of time in ashrams in India and had really positive experiences. This was not the same as that. This place was certifiably insane. As in, I didn't really know if the people could possibly be serious and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was in one of those spoof episodes that the simpsons or south park does on crazy Mormons and scientologists. This is not to say however that Amma, the hugging mother guru, is not an amazing person, because she absolutely is. She has done so much for India and for humanitarian efforts around the globe. She is really special. But those who consider themselves her devotees are out of their god damned minds.
First if all, the whole place has a terrible vibe. No one smiles and no one seems happy. People aren't outwardly rude (actually some were) but there is this attitude they have that I can't describe in words. They are not normal in any case. There are people there who have been there for over 20 years without leaving and they make that possible for people by having everything you would ever need right there in the ashram. The most disturbing thing was the mothers that were there with their young children. So strange and so illegal in any other country. I actually don't even understand how these women were able to leave their countries with their daughters? The kids should be in school and with other kids. Not surrounded by people in white robes worshipping a guru. The saddest thing I saw was the two young girls dancing alon to the prayer songs. You could tell that part if them just wanted to be kids and dance but the other part so desperately wanted their wacko mothers to approve. If you've seen the documentary Jesus Camp, it was basically a scene straight out of that.
There was one British man in his 50s with his wife who actually believed we, meaning the human race, were from Venus. There were others who walked around hugging a little doll representation of Amma. And the absolute craziest was when Amma came back from being on tour the night before I left. It was honestly like being at a Michael Jackson concert in japan in the 90s. A stampede of people running after her van hoping to get a glimpse if her before she went into her house, and when they didn't see her, they lay down on the dirt where she walked and kissed the ground.
Right.
There is much more buy my fragile brain still hasn't procesed it all so that's the best I can do.
After fleeing the ashram I indulged in a bit of a shallow day back in Cochin. I paid to lie by a hotel pool and tan, I had many a fresh ice tea, and sprung for a hotel room with a tv so I could watch Dexter (my new obsession).
This morning I flew to Mumbai and managed to navigate my way into the city via local bus and train which cost me a total of 16 rupees instead of 500 which is what a taxi cost. I walked around and ate some good indian food before drinking a kingfisher beer at leopolds cafe which is an infamous place in colaba where a lot of my book I'm reading takes place. I managed to make my way back to the airport without too many hitches, although trying to push your way on and off of a ladies only car on the train is a real experience. Indian women don't mess around when it comes to the train. They will push and punch and do whatever it takes to get on and off. Whew.
I'm now waiting at the airport for my 3am flight which is killing me a little bit and am struggling with the wifi which requires you to text and indian mobile from an indian mobile-arg! I've already had a few showdowns with airport employees so I really think it's best if I just get out of here as soon as possible. I'm so excited for Kenya. I can't believe it's been 3 yeas since I was last there. Time flies. I'll write once I'm there and settled. Trying not to obsess too much about Cannes. The brange will be there. Eek. Makes me excited for the TIFF. Tata.
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