India: The End.

As it turned out, the end to our Indian travels was rather anti-climatic.  Other than a rickshaw driver taking us to a guesthouse run by his buddy rather than our intended destination (funny how he miraculously remembered English only when we threatened non-payment), nothing happened in Varkala, our last destination.  And by nothing, I mean NOTHING.  Once we found a sea facing hotel room with a balcony, that was the end of that.

It is no surprise that Varkala was uneventful.  It barely felt like India.  Walking along Varkala’s cliffside walkway, the only Indians you would see are the ones trying to get you to come into restaurants or shops.  Our mornings started at any number of cafes playing Jack Johnson, serving banana pancakes and fruit shakes, and our evenings ended with a Kingfisher and some average Indian meals.  Varkala was perfectly enjoyable, but it could have been anywhere.

Backwaters

And when I wake up in the morning to feel the daybreak on my face.  There’s a blood that’s flowin’ through the feeling, with a knife to open up the sky’s veins.  Some things will never change.  They stand there looking backwards half unconscious from the pain.  They may seem rearranged.  In the backwater swirling, there is something that will never change.
– Backwater, Meat Puppets

Old black water, keep on rollin’
Mississippi moon, won’t you keep on shinin’ on me
Old black water, keep on rollin’
Mississippi moon, won’t you keep on shinin’ on me
Old black water, keep on rollin’
Mississippi moon, won’t you keep on shinin’ on me
Yeah, keep on shinin’ your light
Gonna make everything, pretty mama
Gonna make everything all right
And I ain’t got no worries
‘Cause I ain’t in no hurry at all
– Black Water, Doobie Brothers

The real jewel of God’s Country is undoubtedly Kerala’s backwaters.  (Hence the busting out of an old 90s tune; the running soundtrack in my brain while we were in this part of Kerala was either this Meat Puppets song or Black Water.  The waters weren’t black, but close enough.)  Laying parallel to the Arabian Sea, the Keralan backwaters are a network of interconnected canals, rivers, lakes and inlets stretching for over 900 km. The canals are like roads; many people’s houses can only be accessed by boat and road signs give the distance to the next village. Similar to the Ganges, people who live along the backwaters very much live their lives in public, using the backwaters to bathe, wash dishes, and launder clothes. We did as many visitors to the backwaters do: rent an overnight houseboat to explore the labyrinth of canals and lakes. The houseboat comes with a two man boat crew, and you get three Keralean meals cooked aboard by one of the crew.  Our experience on the backwaters was mixed: seeing life on the backwaters was fascinating, the scenery divine, but taking a tour by day probably would have accomplished the same thing for less money and maybe even allowed us to have seen more side canals.  On the other hand, we did get to kick back and relax, and see the sun set over the backwaters.  I took the picture above as we docked for the night next to one of the crew member’s canal side house.

Our biggest concern turned out to be our drinking water. When you read in the guidebook to always check to make sure your water bottles in India are sealed, do it. During negotiations for the boat ride, the owner promised us that the price included lots of bottles of water for us to drink. After getting out on the backwaters, Sean asked the crew for some water. One of them took a water bottle from the cooler, opened it, and handed it to Sean. After we finished the first bottle, we asked for a second one. This time, I happened to open the bottle myself, and noticed the cap wasn’t attached. I asked the other crew member for a different bottle. The new bottle also had a cap that wasn’t attached, and I inquired him why. Eventually, through a conversation in halting English, we established that all of the bottles weren’t factory sealed, they refill bottles of water themselves, and Sean and I weren’t happy about this situation, especially since we unknowingly drank one bottle already. If there’s one thing you don’t want to do in India, it is to drink the water. It was never clear to us whether this was a practice directed by the owner or whether the crew did it themselves. It appeared that the owner gave the crew money to purchase food and supplies for the trip, and we suspected that the crew may have been refilling water bottles themselves to try to save a few rupees. As it turns out, the crew picked us up a case of factory-sealed drinking water (which may not have been much of an improvement, as it was some sketchy brand we hadn’t seen elsewhere called Pizza Water with tons of misspellings on the container), and we never got sick from drinking whatever type of water with which they had refilled the original bottles. It is this type of thing that frustrates you again and again in India. No one means any harm, but you can never let your guard down.

View from the train on the way from Fort Cochin to Alleppey

Houseboat on the backwaters - not ours, but similar

Sean kicked back on the houseboat

Washing dishes in the backwaters

No cars needed

Bath time

Shortly before sunset

Memo to Perverts Re: Your Weird Google Searches

To Whom It May Concern:

I’m sorry to disappoint the person who came to this blog after searching for “naked Japanese women in a hot spring,” or more disturbingly, “naked students onsen,” but as you’ve probably figured out by now, Google is not yet quite as fine tuned as you and it someday hope it might be.  Take it from the many disappointed people who have come to Surrounded by the Sound after searching for some variation of a European country + “nude beach.”  And to the person who day after day keeps searching for “Tom and Jerry porn” – ew, just ew.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Sincerely,

Amy