|varkala, India - coming down from the sky|
We had our first encounter
with cockroaches. They are huge and brown and have a hard skeleton like
crabs' and run like little devils. After the first hysteric fit, we managed
to Time magazine one of them to death in the bathroom. We'd deal
with the corpse in the morning. The ants were faster than us. On their
neat organized line they managed to carry it across the floor and on to
the wall up to the sink top and through the minimal crack between that
and the wall. Next morning, only the end of one of the legs was sticking
out from between the water tap and the wall!
At sunset, on one of the beach
ends, a group of mainly Indian and some white people gathered and trained
some variation of Sotokhan Karate. The instructors were English and were
there by accident. We watched through the session and missed our Kung
Fu. Next evening we went practicing our forms on the beach and attracted
-again- some Indian tourists who had a picture taken with us.
By now we know the actual Vaio
situation after three weeks of calling Bombay DHL. It's being held by
Indian customs and excise as well as thirty other packages and we would
be lucky if it got released before we leave India.
From Quillon we took an eight hours boat trip to Allepey through the famous backwaters of Kerala. The crowd on the boat ranged ranged from an always talkative French group, an Israeli man taking pictures of everything and explaining to an English lady what everything we saw was (learned a lot about coconut fiber "cuor", Chinese fishing nets -like huge wooden legged spiders popping out from the water with their open trapping nets-, land protection against the monsoon and cashew trees), some western women dressed in saris -who look the same as all the other western women dressed in saris- that we picked up from a meditation Ashram on the way and a lone real tough traveler who smiled ironically or madly at everything and smoked spliffs at the back of the boat.
All day water canals which
lead to still more water canals, intertwined in a net, twisting around
rich tropical land, narrowing sometimes, other times meeting a lagoon.
Repetitive wavings from Indian kids at the banks of the river asking "one
pen?" "one rupee?". One of the French girls threw a pen
which for everyone disappointment landed on the water.
We stopped for one of the typical thali lunch meal served on a banana leaf as a a plate and eaten with your fingers. Delicious.