Houseboat in the Backwaters

After negotiating about prices and bopping between a couple boating companies, Patrick finally got us a good deal on a 3-bedroom houseboat that would serve us meals and take us deep into the Kerala backwaters overnight. Jessie and I really got the best deal because we avoided most of the sweaty bargaining process by dipping into a local restaurant for some tea under the fans. Then, when we heard that the houseboat had been prepared, we followed the men carrying our luggage across the bridge, by the slightly-too-aggressive cow, and onto our luxury houseboat.

And we were off. Slowly puttering our way into the backwaters, which really don't feel too unpopulated, it turns out. Kerala is actually the most densely populated state in India, and thus it was not surprising to see houses precariously balanced on slivers of land between two large bodies of water. You can see one such sliver in the photo of Patrick and Evan, actually. A house was located right next to our docked houseboat here, and in the morning the inhabitants slowly walked by the houseboat, staring at us silently. It was quite uncomfortable. I guess I should be used to this feeling of privilege, but it just seemed too extreme when we had hired an entire boat with a crew of three for a "glimpse into the Kerala backwaters." Did these people feel like a cultural exhibit that I was paying to view? I actually hid in my room for a little while in the morning, because I was too embarrassed to face them.

But, in any case, we did get a glimpse into the lives of those who live on the waters of Kerala. And all I could think about was how jealous I was. Why couldn't I have been placed here?! Why did the Fulbright people put a Vermonter in one of the largest cities in India? I guess I came to India to get out of my comfort zone, so I shouldn't be complaining but . . . it was really nice in Kerala.

There were so many fabulous photos to be had, but the slow pace of the boat was just fast enough to make them hard to catch. Just to set things straight, Patrick did try to hire a punting boat, but it seems that these are being "phased out." Disappointing because it would have been more peaceful and environmentally friendly if we could have avoided a motor. Then perhaps I wouldn't have felt so guilty about all the raw sewage that we were contributing to the river.

The scary mass in front of the boat is actually a flock of ducks. Amazing? Yes, it was pretty cool.

The food on the boat was great, and our boat hands enjoyed taking turns bouncing the happy Eli. Patrick heroically leaped out of the boat at one point to venture into a local village and score Jessie and I a bottle of Indian red wine. It was sweet, which isn't surprising since Indians are quite famous for their love of syrupy items. Have I mentioned the sweets in India? We'll save that for a future post.

The houseboat stint ended too early for my tastes, and we were again on the road. A long travel day lay ahead of us, and it ended in a train station in the rain-soaked Coimbatore. The monsoon rains were coming down so hard that we had to hire a van to take us across the river of a road to our hotel which was right across from the train station. Then Patrick and I had a serious conversation with the manager of the hotel when he tried to charge us for a triple room, when what we really had was a double with a cot. I must admit that I was pretty proud when the conversation had reached a deadlock, and I said off-handedly that I would need to write Lonely Planet a little letter about the hotel they had recommended. A few minutes later we were walking away with what we wanted, and the manager was just oh-too-friendly for the rest of our stay. . . which happily wasn't long because we were off to hill station Ooty.