Three Dudes Make a Trip Down to Kerala

Communication skills are not my strong point. This is especially true here in India. I can handle small talk. In fact, I'm a god damn pro at making small talk; I could small talk a man to death. But there isn't any small talk here in India. Once you meet someone, they'll let you know immediately what they're thinking.

“Which one of you is the coolest and which one of you is the angriest?” asked a girl on the train ride back to Pune from Kerala. Bobby, Jan and I laughed.

“I think you're the cool one” one of the girls told us, pointing to me.

“yeah, I'm the cool one, and he's the angry one” I laughed, pointing at Bobby.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Last week, I went to Kerala.

This was a trip that we had planned for a long time. For weeks, we told our selves “when we get some holidays, we're going down to Kerala, and exploring the Jungle, laying on the beaches, and living the life of kings”. Unfortunately, all we managed was to buy some bus tickets, and had no place to stay. I normally preach the benefits of planning ahead. Indeed, we did likely have to pay more because we didn't find our about prices ahead of time. It's pretty hard to negotiate a hotel room at six in the morning after a thirty hour train ride.

That's how long it takes to get from Pune, Maharashtra to Kochi, Kerala. Thirty god damn long hours on a sleeper train. I'm not sure what comes to your mind when you think of trains. For me, I like to imagine long train rides as fun trips in wooden cabins with AC and cakes. This is pretty close to what we had in India. Except it was rusting metal bunks instead of wooden cabins, and there was no AC, and you can replace 'cakes' with 'cockroaches and mice'. We also got the cabin with the screaming child. And to warn those that plan to someday take a sleeper class train in India: never, ever use the latrine (I found out why the train stations smell like shit, though, as the trains don't hold their waste, it's just a drop down on to the tracks, so stations are literally the stagnant septic tank of the trains).

It was three of us taking this trip. Bobby, Jan, and I. The others went up north for the week that we took off, and saw Delhi, Agra, and Rajistan. But we were The Three Musketeers. Two Americans, and one German. On the way down to Kerala, I read Midnight's Children, Jan read All Quiet on the Western Front, and bobby read Schindler's List. I feel like those are the three books that a group has to be reading when traveling in India with two Americans and a German.

We got down to Kochi no problem, surviving off of the chai, water, and biryanni that the hawkers would sell up and down the aisle. Infact, I almost started to appreciate the shrill call of “chaaaiii, chaaaiii” every five minutes or so. By the way, that chai is pretty damn good. When we got in, it was pouring. This rain would continue for most of our trip. We took a rickshaw to the place we wanted to stay, the Vasco guest house (and rickshaws, for the record, can also act as fairly reliable boats up to about 8 inches of water, as was the average depth of the roads when we arrived to Kochi). This is said to be the place where Vasco de Gama died when he was exploring India. Too bad for us, the guy wanted three times the regular price for us to stay there. Instead, we stayed at Oy's guest house. To the best of my knowledge, no famous people died there.

Oy's is a pleasant enough place. The lady who runs the joint is friendly, and didn't mind when we forgot to give back the keys when we left (but we did give them back before we left Kerala, but again, I'm getting ahead of myself). The rooms were clean, slightly small, but had a nice balcony. When we checked in, we were able to get three mattresses, but she only provided two blankets. I still can't figure that one out.

Fort Kochin is the part of the city that we stayed in. Unlike what you would guess from the name, Fort Kochin is by no means a fort. In fact, the main attraction to Fort Kochin is the beautiful sea side view and the old Chinese fishing nets. The nets are huge bamboo structures that stand out in the water, and a team of fishermen are in charge of lowering and raising the nets daily. If you're feeling brave enough, you can buy the fresh catch of the day and have it cooked by one of the street vendors. We weren't feeling so brave. We had heard stories about the fish in Kerala.

We also got to see traditional Kerala dance, Kathakali. It's not really a dance, as it is a play, with music, and costumes. It takes six to eight years to learn how to perform a Kathakali production, which is usually several acts of a 101 chapter hindu epic, and takes about eight hours. Our production lasted only two. The actors use a set of hand gestures, facial contortions, and eye rolls to express words and ideas. My favorite was 'bee getting heavy from sucking the nectar from a flower'. They have an expression for that. Seriously. That shit goes on for eight hours.

Our next stop after Kochin was to go to Kumily. Kumily is home to the Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary, and of course, the Periyar Tiger Preserve. The bus from Kochin to Kumily we were told was only two hours. This is not true. While the distance is only 100km as the crow flies, it's actually a six hour roller coaster ride from hell, with constant stops and bumps that would launch passengers out of their seats. We also had to stand for part of it, after we had to change buses. That was fun. I also had my first experience with motion sickness.

Once we got to Kumily, we stayed at the Coffee Inn, also known as the most rediculously adorable place to stay in all of Kumily. The room was fairly cheap, and it borders the wild life reserve, so you can sit outside while watching the jungle. They also have rooms in tree houses and huts. Unfortunately, our room was hardly glamorous, but it was cheap and clean. After a quick rest and a bite to eat, we decided it was time to take the boat tour of the jungle.

Because we didn't realize that the bus ride would include a free roller coaster ride, we ended up getting in to Kumily very late. We caught the last boat of the day, around 5 o'clock. The boat was nice but fairly crowded. The boat provides the best way to cover the most distance, and is the best way to spot any wildlife. Too bad for us, there were no tigers on this trip, but we did get to see elephants, boars, and several other wild animals. It was pretty good. The next day, on the very same tour at the very same time, we later found out, the boat capsized, killing nearly everyone on board. Comparatively, our tour went very smoothly.

We spent the rest of the evening in town, and had dinner and tea. The next morning we went on an elephant walk through the jungle. We got there early in the morning, and they were still washing the elephants for the day. I decided to watch the spectacle of an elephant shower. After a quick walk through the jungle, I found a clearing where two men were scrubbing down a male elephant, and washing it with a hose. As we watched, I noticed that the elephant was getting a raging boner. I was awe struck. It was like the elephant grew a fifth leg. The elephant keepers were very proud of this, and kept spraying the penis with the hose and giving it a good slap. Like any good tourist, I of course took a picture.

When it was time for us to ride an elephant, it turned out not to be our friend from the jungle, but was instead a female elephant. Riding and elephant is weird, and elephants aren't as nearly as soft as I always thought they were. We made slow progress through the forest, and saw some of the biggest spiders I have ever seen in the trees. Jan and I were impressed, Bobby was terrified. Of course, the spiders knew this. That's why they chose to land on his back, and not ours. Poor Bobby. After the elephant ride, we had to pack up our things one again, and prepare for our trip to Allepey.