Fort Cochin

Normally I’d be a little embarrassed to visit a town like this while traveling in India. But this time I didn’t. I was tickled pink when we walked out of our cozy homestay and passed five groups of white folks on our way to a quaint English tea house. Sitting at our gorgeous wooden tree of a table, we sipped our tea while listening to three languages, none of which were Indian.

After lunch we threw ourselves into the tourist activities with gusto. First on the list was the series of Chinese fishing nets strewn along the Lakshadweep Sea. Using a system of counterweights, these large nets require 4 men to work them. I was mostly impressed by the large rocks that seemed to be precariously hanging high above our heads. I didn’t see any fish caught, strengthening my suspicion that perhaps these nets were more for the tourists than for the fishermen. But I could be wrong.

After touring Santa Cruz Basilica and relishing the change of scenery including Portuguese architecture and *gasp* sidewalks, we made our way to Jew Town. This street felt more Indian in that the roadway was packed with small shops containing merchants who received top marks in Harassment of Tourists School. Now, although we don’t feel like tourists after living in India for 2 ½ months, we still certainly look like them. After we had turned away, one feisty seller called after us that he would give us his, "Temptation Price!" which we thought was a great line.

Before going to a traditional Kathakali performance, we had to stop by the entirely comforting Kashi Art Café. Jessie and Patrick are fellow coffee snobs, and I think I can speak for them and say that this was the best coffee we had had since coming to India. And the chocolate and carrot cake was just icing on the larger cake of comfort.

At this point we were ready to sit for a couple of hours during the intricate story play that is Kathakali. The actors use facial expressions and hand gestures (mudras) to convey the chanted story, and drums provide the basis for the performance. Kathakali came into its form during Shakespeare’s time, and the costumes and make-up really augment the production. I must admit, however, that those people back in the day must have had longer attention spans. Sometimes an argument or battle would continue and continue. . . The ending was worth the wait, however, when one leader killed the other and proceeded to cut his enemy’s heart and entrails out with his fingernail and then wash his wife’s hair with the blood. Luckily Evan was already engrossed in his new auto-rickshaw so he missed this gruesome conclusion.

The next day we wasted no time. After eating at our favorite Art Café and stocking our body’s coffee supply, we took off to a Jain Temple, spice market, and St. Francis Church. Patrick may scoff when he reads that I visited the church as Jessie and I never actually entered. I’ll admit that we got slightly distracted in the process of bargaining for some skirts/pants outside, which seemed a lot more important at the time.

And then that afternoon, it was time to jump the train to Varkala.