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‹ Previous (30/10/2008) LUNA Next (2008-12-29)› ‹ Previous (2009-08-29 - Nepal) TARA Next (2009-09-19 - Pakistan)› India Puducherry (see on map) 29/11/2008:
We have been driving for eight days about 2200 km through the east coast, in order to arrive in the south of India, where we will celebrate the anniversary of Alexandra here about four days and where we will find with David, Maria and the fathers of these some days later. If the memory does not fail me, this stage the covered longest distance will have been in less time of all the journey; and naturally, there are different factors that can justify it. On a part, have circulating through one of the best roads of India, little gone for lorries and of two lanes all the while, except for some hundred of kilometres in the state of Orissa, where the road was to means to build since some years ago, as if the money to keep building the road had evaporated, probably because of the corruption. It has also contributed to this marathon of kilometres, the fact of in the east coast of India there not being too many monuments to visit (in comparison in the North, West and south of India), perhaps because the kingdoms that governed the coast of the Sea of Flare were less powerful; or because the low plains of the east had less quarries from where to extract rocks and of where to build monuments that held the crossing of the time; or because many of the temples that in spite of everything ascended, were destroyed by the exerted Muslims who in the sixteenth century arrived to the east coast, little before its decay. In any case, it would be unimaginable that in 2000 kilometres there was not any point of interest to visit, and in fact there are some, although we only visit three, all of them in the state of Orissa. First we visit Kornak, some calm people where the impressive temple of the sun is, built in the 13th century for a king of Orissa, probably to celebrate a military victory on the Muslims. After visiting the temple, we direct did eventually beach that is extended in front of Kornak, and where for the first time from Turkey we could observe the captivating immensity of the blue sea again. Naturally I could not resist of making a bath, but I went out from minuscule granites of sand which the desires of trying it at the moment again were passed me so breaded. The day after Kornak we visit Puri, at few kilometres of Kornak, but with a completely different atmosphere, then Puri is one of the most important centres of Hindu pilgrimage of India, being the temple of Jagannath Mandir the main attraction, that has the closed entry to the not hinduistas ones. In any case, it was worthwhile to walk through the wide avenue full of small trades that during the hinduistas celebrations they must be of pilgrims to burst. On the other hand, Puri was one of the points of India where I felt more intimidated by the hinduista religion. It had the sensation that the pilgrims or people of the people were directed to me with aggressiveness and intolerance for not being hinduista, as if they were declaring for me that our place was not there. So, having interpreted this message which receiving seemed to me, we go next towards the city of Bhubaneswar, capital of Orissa. Anyway, despite being the capital (or maybe because of that), I only got lost an afternoon through the south of the city, where there are spread different hinduistas temples built during the 9 and 10 centuries. Among these pretty temples, I had the occasion of attending different hinduistas ceremonies, that later, during the journey they made me think quite a lot. While we passed statues (of about 10 meters of high one) of the Dios Hanuman, or monkey]> God of long one on different great occasions, I convinced me that the Hinduism is one of the most superstitious religions of the world. On occasions also we passed with big posters along the road announcing Gurus, as the one who announces a business, with Hindu sentences that I interpret as: 'he believes in me, it pays and you will have the paradise'. In fact, the majority of temples in India are deprived and are financed with the particular donations, in some cases compiling millions of rupiahs, when it thinks that a temple helps comply with your desires. But one of the aspects that more surprises me, apart from observing a thousand and one ways different to adore the hinduistas Gods, is the ceremonies in which a guru makes repeat different mantras to a person, while it blesses it and it makes him throw himself flowers, foods and water above forms drawn in the ground, or on flames or figures of gods. To good insurance that with these hypnotic ceremonies, the faithful one finishes the guru thinking any positive message that says it, finishing the session with a completely reinforced personality and capable of confronting any challenge that the life stations it, even if it is to cure an illness. In fact, I am convinced that the hinduistas ones are so superstitious and they have so much faith with its religion that some of the illnesses that have can get to cure, in the same way that the innocuous tablets can cure if they have associated a placebo effect, and in the same way that any other technique based on the faith of the results of the technique: homeopathy, acupuncture... (with pardon for expressing this opinion that is so personal). Anyway, I did not pass myself all the journey meditating, we were also quite a lot of while conversing and the rest of time enjoying the landscape, in general infinite plains of green colour, cultivated in small lots, and separated by ranks of palm trees or other tropical trees. Also, we kept observing as as we advanced towards the south, the sky kept being blurred, even that two days before arriving to the destination it started to pour with rain. It felt that it was rained, in fact did some months that had not seen the rain and the selfcaravan needed a good wash, but on the other hand, it worried us that we had not chosen a bad place to celebrate the anniversary of Alexandra, for we were arriving in the south of the coast of the Sea of Flare without the season of the monsoons in this region having finished. Besides, that it little afterwards of his starting to pour with rain, we enter of full in a deep puddle of water and when going out discovered horrified that the horn of the car had been wetted and it was not familiar. It was impossible to drive without horn, the instrument is more important to drive the Indian, for example, as could we tell the lorries of our arriving and their stopping driving in zig-zag through the middle of the road? o that did they not change lane unexpectedly? Really it was suicidal to drive without horn, so, taking advantage of his already darkening, we park in a gasstation to be able to continue the day after with the dried horn. The following day and today we have kept advancing towards the south under the rain, observing many flooded areas and quite a lot of people for the sides of the road looking at the waters accumulated since bridges or positions high of the road. In fact, seeing so many impressed people impressed more than simply observing the brown waters, because we did not know whether the areas flooded before were part of a gap or river. In fact, we could only value the excepcionalidad of the situation when we had clear references of what was abnormal, as the flooded streets, the homes with the incoming water for the door, or the motorway covered of water (always the contrary lanes). 05/12/2008:
When we have reached Puducherry (the city was called Pondicherry one year earlier) the rains had been finished, but everywhere signals of the storm were observed with flooded streets and quite a lot of trees and fallen branches. In fact, we were very fortunate that from our arrival the rain only came a few times, afterwards leaving a splendid sun that dried all the streets and our humid autocaravan. So, we have been able to enjoy six days of rest, one of the main desires for Alexandra for her anniversary, that frequently complained about not taking holidays in our journey. Even though, as incredible as it might seem, the Romans had visited Puducherry about 2500 years ago, the main influence of the city is French, country that dominated four enclaves in India from the ends of the 12th century up to 1956, when it yielded the territories to India, 8 years later of its independence. Although the city is at present occupied by Indians, the atmosphere in the French part is calm and relaxed, with streets flanked by trees, pretty mansions of French style and a popular avenue separating the city from the sea, that continuously cracks against an artificial cliff of rocks. The city has churches and a cathedral as different attractions, but what caught the attention of us more was a temple dedicated to Ganesh, out of which there was an elephant that we visited almost every day. The elephant, called Lakshmi (deity of the prosperity), was a female of about 18 years (a baby even, commented the keeper) that gave blessings to all the ones that delivered a coin or a bank note. At first it was difficult to approach to the big animal and to leave to fall a coin in one of the two orifices of the trompet, in whose end she was holding put the other coins until the keeper claimed them. Later, however, we take sufficient confidence to leave that the animal passed the trompet over our head (as a sign of blessing) or to approach us more and to caress the forehead of soft skin and thorny hairs. Very near to Puducherry, there is another attraction, the town of Auroville, which we did not visit because the day that we had the intention I came down ill. In spite of everything, we had previously visited one of the projects and could make an idea about the philosophy of the people and the community. Auroville is a foundation of the government of India, that it has bought lands so that people arriving from all the world can develop positive projects for the humanity. Although the project intended to be for 50.000 individuals, the current population is of about 1500 adults and about 500 children, originating from 44 different nationalities, although the great majority (40%) are of Indian origin. We specifically visited Abraham and Yorit (original from Israel), which five years ago initiated the project of Sadhana forest, with the philosophy of generating an environmental impact, planting trees and contributing towards decreasing the CO2 of the atmosphere. Helping them develop the project, they always had working among them from 10 to 80 volunteers that came from all the world with the intention of remaining a minimum of two weeks, enjoying free accommodation in exchange working (4 hours a day for 5 days per week), and paying some 2€/day for the cost of the food. In the same way, many other similar projects are being developed in Auroville, and many other could develop if there were more people in the world ready to give up the system to help the humanity (Auroville would provide lands and a minimum economic aid to develop initiatives). Anyway, according to my individual vision, even if the Aurovill people think to have given up the system, the community does not stop being another subsystem with some rules that also have to be accepted and that can also be unfair through some sectors of the mini-society (for example, the alcohol and the drugs are prohibited). In spite of everything, I think that the subsystem Auroville is better socially in ecological terms and probably (they aspire towards a society less competitive and without fear), although, I also think that if the subsystem were converted in system (for example a whole country dominated), it would end up having the same problems (or more) as any other existing system (For example, a country that wanted to expel all the drinkers of alcohol should confront great internal and external conflicts). So, according to my opinion, it is very positive that they exist many of these projects or mini-subsystems, that, on the other hand, will be still tied up with the global system through internet, books and minimum technology. Although, according to its status, Auroville is a project that wants to create harmony among humanity independent of religion, Auroville was founded by "the mother", a pupil Frenchwoman and collaborator of Sri Aurobindo, both philosophers or hinduist gurus who through the yoga worked a spiritual evolution of the humanity to join it to the divine one. Like this explained us an old woman that we met casually, which worked as professor of languages (she was speaking Spanish very well) for the Ashram of "the mother" and of Sri Aurobindo. Although the philosophy of the Ashram was too much esoteric for me (and of course for Alexandra also) and too much centred in the adoration of the deceased guru, Lata was a good guide to visit some places of the Ashram, where "the mother" and Sri Aurobindo, in the middle of luxurious gifts of ivory and three surprising heads of tiger had lived together. Equally, Lata also facilitated us the entry in the dining rooms of the Ashram, which served very tasty and very economic food to hundreds of people, some of which original from other countries. Finally, i only have to explain that the day before yesterday (on 3 of December) we celebrated the anniversary of Alexandra dining in a good restaurant, eating fish after such a long time. Anyway, despite being the most expensive food paid in the last months, yesterday I was a whole day in bed with diarrhoea and a terrible headache (probably by the dehydration) and today, also although I was not so bad as to prevent our road towards Bangalore. During the dinner of the anniversary, as one year ago in Etiopia, the subject of getting married came out again. Maybe the subject came out because we had put on the ring of gold that we had given as a present, but that we had taken off as we separated in Pakistan; although the real reason of the conversation of marriage did not stop being practical. There are still lacking some months, but our journey to America every time is nearer, in the same way that our obligatory separation comes close if Alexandra does not obtain a visa to enter the United States (the Romanians have it more complicated). The only way of avoiding it would be a wedding between us, that I do not see in a complete way bad. Already does about two years and a half that we are together and, although we still have some disagreements, do not seem that these are an impediment to follow our communal life as until now. Besides, the last weeks i have been refreshing some aspects of the Buddhist philosophy and there are some changes that I want to apply to my communal life with Alexandra. I think that at present I have managed to come off the material possessions quite a lot and this is the reason for which it was not a great emotional setback to have the portable computer broken and its data in a temporary way; in the same way that every time it annoys me less that the Indians touch the car, they try to open or even they take off the adhesives. So, it seems that I am learning to forgive some attitudes of the Indians towards us, although until now I had not been capable of forgiving certain attitudes of Alexandra towards me. For example, normally I return more than unbearable when Alexandra is unbearable, or I turn hyper-hysterical when Alexandra catches an attack of hysteria. The behaviour should changing, I know it, but like this as I have already changed other aspects of me, I think that I can also change that, and to be able to be more understanding with the emotional up and downs of Alexandra in order to improve more ours communal life. And if really I can do these changes, why is should not think again about marrying? In fact, we only need to go to an India institution and to have two witnesses for person, perhaps we will ask David, Maria and their parents to be our witnesses* * some days later Alexandra looked for more details to marry in India and results that is not at all easy. So, we will have to leave it for when we return to Europe and meanwhile to study the procedure to carry out her visa for the United States. Bangalore (see on map) 11/12/2008:
As many other cities of India, Bangalore is known like this during the british colonisation but now they changed the name to the old used name: Bengaluru; but people keep using the name of Bangalore, because when one is accustomed to a nomenclature, any other variant seems ridiculous (Also it happened with Calcutta-Kolcata or Pondicherry-Puducherry). In any case, the popular origin of the name of Bangalore or Bengaluru yes that it has a certain point of absurdity, for it means "city of the boiled beans", a name that was granted by a king that got lost through the forest during a dispatch of hunt. Tired and wretched, the king found the home of an old woman that could only serve boiled beans , but so good was the food that the king decided to found a city on those places in honour of the devoured boiled beans. Anyway, leaving its name aside, Bangalore is known as the Silicon Valley of India and is therefore one of the most modern cities of the country, and maybe one of the less stressful (as to minimum for us). We parked in a calm street that crossed the park of Cubbon and in company of David and Maria, whom we met the day after arriving, we walked different days for the area of the MG street (Mahatma Gandhi), where there are different shops, restaurants and coffees very snobish and completely far from our budgets. Anyway, yesterday we moved away from the mall of Bangalore and dragged ourselves through small alleys with small shops, up to the big market of the city, out of which there were many shops of fruits and vegetables extended on the ground. Almost by error we lower to the inferior level of the market and we found ourselves in the middle of an impressive show full of colour (and fragrances), for all the area was full of vendors of flowers and garlands and women who sewed them in line or in other interesting forms. At dawn yesterday, the parents of David (José and Mariam) and those of Maria (Ramon and Mary)arrived, to celebrate with their children the Christmas holidays;it was already almost two years that they had gone out of home. Today they have presented themselves at the autocaravan and without having slept all night, they have started to make exhibition of the best Spanish humour, taking out the gifts of Christmas with a certain anticipation: my new computer and two couples of filters for the car, that i had not found out of Europe. The eight of us have gone for a walk through the MG road where the parents have started to take contact with the Indian culture and returned afterwards to the hotel (having to negotiate the prices of rickshaws in a very hard way), where they had us reserved a good party. the parents had brought different bottles of cava, packets of sausages, bread and sweets of Christmas, products that we had not tried for almost two years. I started to devour and to drink (together with David and Maria and Alexandra, although until now she was not too much lover of the Spanish products) with so much avidity that I forgot to take some photo of the event myself. Definitely, for me Bangalore will not be the city of the boiled beans, but the city of the paprika-flavoured red pork sausage, the ham and the cava (delicious). And already by night and half drunk, we have returned to the autocaravan, where tomorrow we will travel again towards Puducherry, towards where with a nocturnal bus will arrive our friends. Madurai (see on map) 18/12/2008:
We have been traveling a week through the south of India with the parents of David and those of Maria. It has been a new way of travelling, since with their comments we have noticed aspects that were already normal for us: the people sleeping on th street, dirty (not so evident in the south), the rothen smell or spices (that i don’t feel), the street vendors that scream the name of their products, the oily street food, the glittery announcements of films or jewelery, the statues (of politicians) have stairs up to their heads to be able to put flowers over their neks, the men covering the legs with just a peace of cloth, the colourfull saris of the women, the rickswhas bycicle driven by very thin men, the hungry dogs with the hair fallen, the cows in the middle of the road, the peregrins loaded with the statue of some god accompanied by loud music, the peregrins with the face painted in different colours and forms, some with no hair (also women), the extravagant hindu rituals, the magnificent temples that we always have to visit without shoes, walking on top of all kinds of shit and offerings (how different from the very clean mosques where we also had to walk without shoes). First we visit Mallapuram, a city that was an important sea harbour among the 7 and 9 centuries, during which magnificent temples and reliefs in the stony mountains of the surroundings were sculpted. Next we passed again Puducherry, where Lakshmi, which was touched by Hindus as if really it was a deity touching the trompet and then touching their eyes and mouths as to be purified. We had luck, during a visit to the elephant there was a holiday on which Lakshmi was decorated with some showy tunics for the body and the head; afterwards she was introduced in the temple, at the same time the happy female elephant play the trompet to the rhythm of other trumpets; and finally she presided over a procession through the town that honoured a deity of gold covered of offerings. In Puducherry, apart from walking through all the French neighbourhood, we also visited a cathedral, where it surprised us that the Indian believers touched the statues of Jesus or the virgin Maria with the same superstition that did the Hindus. A couple of days later we reached Chitambaram, where there is a big temple with some very high doorways (situated to the four cardinal points) covered with different figures of Hindu deities painted with showy colours. Some similar doorways we found in other temples of villages that we crossed, and also in Trichy, the following city that we had visited and that has a temple (Sri Ranganathaswamy) with a doorway or gopuram that raises 73 meters of height. At the same time, the temple of Sri Ranganathaswamy is one of the biggest of India, covering 60 hectares framed by seven concentric walls that contain total of 21 gopurams. Also Madurai, the last city visited until now, contains a magnificent temple with four big gopurams or doorways, which we were very unfortunate for not seeing, for they were covered with a very high scaffold of trunks and leaves of palm tree. As they told us, every 15 years and for four months the gopurams are covered and are painted again, right before some great celebrations. Anyway, we could visit a pretty market where there were many tailors working, which took up an entry of the temple under pretty sculpted columns and statues of gods. During the visit to one of these Hindu temples, the comment that the Hindu Gods are worshiped in the same way that the Christian saints came up. Afterwards I reflected a little more and Alexandra was annoyed by the odious comparisons that i did, although for me it had a lot of logic. On a part, there are as many Hindu Gods as saint there is in the Christianity (more or less), each with its function (some help the wealth, others to a specific profession, others to cure...). In the same way, every temple is dedicated to a God, as every church is it to a different saint. In both prints and statues (of saints or Gods) are sold by religions, the paints or statues are adorned, donations or offerings are done, and in important holidays they are taken to walk in carriages followed by procession and music. Equally, a Ganesh temple (for example) does not have the same "force" as the one of another temple, in the same way, that the mother of God of the church of the neighbourhood does not have the same "force" as the saint Maria de Lourdes (that's why the temples or churches receive more or less wandering according to the "force" of its Gods or saints). The parallelism follows with the different histories either legends that every saint or God has, and the preferences that the believers have for a saint or God particularly. On the other hand, the believers also do penitence in front of the saints or Gods, some walking on knees in the processions and the other ones cutting the hair or fasting. the faithful ones of both religions are also blessed, some with blessed water and the other ones with paint or ash. At the end of these reflections i did not think any longer that Hindus were so superstitious, and for example i did not find strange that in some temples we were told off different times for photos, the same way that the faithful Catholics would feel if in the middle of a mass a group of Japanese entered all shooting their camera. I was also reflecting on other aspects these days, because of the comment of a friend who after reading the first weeks of the journey to India attacked me for i was writing the diary under a too occidental and maybe negative vision. I already answered my friend that all the world is influenced by a culture or another, and that if you want to write a personal story (without being a historical or social document) you have to describe your sensations that will always be influenced by your culture or last history. In any case, I also reflected, around the 3 months that soon will do that we are in India, and for the way how I describe the country in the diary, which sometimes can make think that we are not enjoying India or the Indians. It is true that many times we find India incomprehensible, but it is also true that India surprises us day by day for the difference of its culture in comparison with ours and the previous visited countries. A subcontinent is isolated with its traditions, religious rituals, media, own literature, music, films (Bollywood)... and with little contact with west. So, India does not stop being a vitamin for the mind - although sometimes its taste can be bitter - to expand the conscience of the world being very different, rich and interesting of knowing. One may not miss then, that we have plans to keep knowing some weeks more this enormous country, understandable also for its great measure and for its innumerable monuments that it has. Varkala (see on map) 19/12/2008:
Today we have had a good and a bad experience with India. The good one has happened in the morning, when, with relative easiness, we have managed to fill with butane the nine carboys of campingaz to make work the stove and the fridge. For the readers it will not be at all extraordinary to wait for the carboys only two hours to have them ready, but for us, after the experience of Rajastan, where we had to search during a day and a half to fill the carboys, has been a good experience. The bad experience has arrived an hour later, at three, little after Kollam going out towards Tenkasi. We had been circulating with relative comfort through the roads of the south of the Índia, under a fine rain, when suddenly we have found a poster of cut road. We have passed it, for a couple of lorries and buses have kept circulating through the road ignoring the poster. Anyway, a hundred metres further on we have stopped and we have asked to some men next to the road about the directions. at the beginning one has said us that we followed, but others have said us that we should move back the hundred of metres and to give a turn through a village in the interior. So, I have decided paying attention to the majority a few kilometres thinking that we should only divert. But the kilometres went north, instead of east, and every time that we asked about the address to Kollam they told us that it was behind, but when explaining "cut road" they said us to follow ahead, towards the mountains that the road has started to thread. Although it was strange that almost no car circulated those paths. we only crossed a bus with pilgrims, and in contrary direction occasional truks and 4x4 with more pilgrims. In any case, with the finished rain, the landscape of tropical mountain turned very interesting, although the road was small and every kilometre was worsening. According to the map, we were close to a peak of 2000 meters, with the crossing of mountain surpassing the thousand meters. In different points we found a toll of mountain or forest rate, but we were convinced that we did not have to pay them because we did not want to be there, we miss all without too many problems. When lowering of the mountain for the other side we started to cross many more buses and 4x4, the majority full of pilgrims that we thought that they would have had some holiday in the middle of the tropical forest. After about two hours and a half and having circulated about 40 or 50 kilometres, we arrived at last to a village that did not appear on the map but that all the people through the path had mentioned us. We thought that our adventure would be about to finish, but we were not even to the half, for from this village, the road worsened a lot, very much, being glad of having done the modifications of the autocaravan in Nepal then for sure that we would have scraped the ground in many points, which reminded us of the worst African nightmares. There was one, by luck situated on descent, that it was completely muddied that complicated very much the crossing of the lorries, buses, and cars that were piling up - or simply it prevented them from crossing. Once this crossing has been passed we were informed that we still had about two or three hours on the way, and some other ones, kept passing confirming to us that the main road, was indeed cut. We informed them about the road continuing in the same way for quite a lot of kilometres, and there being a very complicated crossing, without mentioning to them that possibly they could not cross it and that they should remain, caught between tens of lorries and buses, to sleep there. In fact, we had had luck of being some of the first cars that we had had to take the alternative crossing, because some hours later the procession of vehicles should be mortal. Looking at the map, I realised that if the main road was cut crossing the mountains, the only way of crossing them was diverting for hundreds of kilometres, the one that we had taken being the shortest path, of about 70 or 80 kilometres that it took us about 6 hours to go. It could have been worse, but this experience cannot be qualified in any other way but bad. Kochin (see on map) 27/12/2008:
We have passed a very good week relaxing in the state of Kerala in company of David and María, José and Mariam (the fathers of David), and Ramón and Mari (the fathers of María). Besides, we have enjoyed a splendid sun that he had resisted going out to the east coast of the India, where the monsoon still had to be withdrawn. The sun has been a good signal of welcome to the cozy state of Kerala. That is so good point we enter in Kerala, after the troubled cross street through the mountains, we realised developed that we found each other in a completely different state and much more. The homes were in general big and elegant, the cities had high and modern buildings, the streets and the nature were quite clean... As I have read afterwards, the inhabitants of Kerala are the ones that have more life expectancy, have a higher educational level, suffer less corruption and enjoy more equity of gender among men and women. For example, while in the other states of India the masculine population usually surpasses in number to the feminine one (due to the abortions of girls and occasional infanticides), in Kerala the women constitute 51.42% of the population, with specific communities following a matriarchal system. On the other hand, the development of Kerala is also noticed in the roads, more asphaltic kilometres having road for inhabitant than any other state. But the development is not always positive, and as in the occidental world, Kerala has some comparative high cups of suicides, alcoholism and unemployment. On the other hand, stopping being exclusive with Kerala, the south of India is in general much calmer than the north and more relaxed of traveling: we have not detected any adhesive of the selfcaravan pulled, very few times have tried us to open the doors, the people greet us cheerful from the road... At the same time, also although it occasionally passed in the north, quite a lot of people have gotten in touch us through Internet commenting that they have seen to pass our well decorated car us and with the distinguished web page, and wanting us good journey, inviting us to its home (unfortunately when I always read the messages we have passed of long) or requesting from us to travel with us. Besides, some of them also answer the questions of the form of taking the pulse to the world, with answers always very interesting and enriquecedoras. But already centring me to relate our experience individual in Kerala, I will explain you that we refind with David, María and with its fathers in Varkala, some very touristic people full of hotels and restaurants orientated to the occidental tourists mainly. Under the people there was a pretty beach where the tourists showed its white meats, as on a European beach, while occasional atónicos Indians stayed looking at the almost bare bodies with eyes of orange. Further on, the Indians had its beach, where the women and men were coated dressed, and a lot further on there was the beaches of fishermen where I and José (the father of David) go a dawn. It was a good hike during which we observe different small boats extending nets for the ocean that afterwards they were dragged from mainland for ten men. We keep a total of three days in Varkala, relaxing, sunbathing and bathing on the beach, and also doing some good feasts making use of the great quantity of fresh fish that there was exposed in the restaurants, although the prices were a little out of our budget. Before leaving, I was about to throw the rubbish accumulated in the selfcaravan, but as they did not find any wastebasket or container, I left both plastic bags under a street lamp. But some taxi drivers who observed me told me off. I looked at them confusing and asked them where he had to leave the bags. Its answer left me frozen. They answered me that it had to demolish the precipice bags, under which there was the beach. I did not dare to pay them attention, anyway, near of the pending I found a circle carbonised where they seemed to burn rubbish and I left there my bags, without anybody else telling me off. With a little pity for leaving this paradise (which for me it did not stop being too much sterilised for the tourists that did not want to be infected of the Indian culture) we direct ourselves to the following destination, Alappuzha, some people with a completely Indian atmosphere, but point of boarding in one of the main touristic attractions of Kerala, the Backwaters (or waters of the behind), a net of channels, rivers and interconnected lakes and forming a labyrinthine system of more than 900 km. It coincided that the following day of arriving to Alappuzha, on the 24th of December, was the anniversary of Mariam (mother of David), and was one good way of celebrating it renting a small boat among the eight to slide us among the channels of Backwaters, from which we observe the calm life of its inhabitants, with its homes next to the water, where they were coated and washed clothes, and with the fields of rice behind the houses or the trees, one or two meters more down that the water level of the channel (proof that the cultivated lands before were covers of water). It was a very romantic avenue, occasionally making the way among great extensions of floating plants that obstructed the advance of the small boat, although we could not avoid observing also the dirt that there was floating (bottles of plastics, tubes of fluorescent tubes, plastic bags, a dead rat...). As it returns, we buy a cake for Mariam and after blowing the candles, did ourselves the gifts of the invisible friend, a typical tradition among some families in Catalonia for Christmas (in Varkala we had put the names of all in a bag, each extracted a name at random and it had to buy a gift for this person). Next we go out to look for a restaurant to celebrate the dinner of Christmas, but in that we were not so fortunate, for Alappuzha was completely different to Varkala. There were very few occidental tourists and the few hotels or restaurants of luxury that there was had closed and too expensive menus of Christmas. However there was a restaurant that would have been perfect, but which we do not find that despite surprising us we did not dare to prove until after dining in another Muslim restaurant, where they could not serve beer to us but that however had veal in its card. Since very old times, the cows are considered sacred animals in the India, for its capacity to produce milk and fertiliser through the fields, and for the possibility to be used as brute force in the work of the field or transport; also although there are theories according to which, the former kings imposed that they were sacred so that the subjects did not decimate these real estates. So, in India the rough handling of a cow can entail severe sentences, and in general is killing them forbidden, except in Kerala and West Bengal (two states in the south of India) where the slaughterhouses of cows are allowed. In the same way, it is the transport of cows forbidden among provinces to kill them, although, as it seems many lorries carry out routinely this transport, apart from there being very much illegal slaughterhouses in the rest of India (some of which they also kill cows clandestinely). , The permissiveness in Kerala is probably owed to the religious diversity, where 25% of its inhabitants is Muslims and 20% Christian (the rest hinduistas). And as I have described, this diversity remains reflected in the restaurants, with Hindus serving beer but not veal, the Muslims serving veal but not pork or beer, and the Christians acting as everything and, even, sometimes offering you marihuana to the ear. It is said, that the great presence of Christians in Kerala is owed to the visit of the apostle S. Thomas that it arrived and it preached the gospel through the west coast of India, although many European traders that frequently visited the west coast of India since the times of the Roman empire also helped it. Due to this contact with west there are former native churches in Kerala, although the evangelical force was increased from 1503, when the Portuguese established the first permanent colony in the India, in Kochin, where they built the first church built by Europeans (the church of san Francisco). This enclave dominated by the Portuguese, later for the Dutch and English ones and at present for the Indians, it was where we go after celebrating the Christmas in Alappuzha. Anyway, in spite of the rich history of Kochin, we do not dedicate ourselves to visiting monuments and simply relax, walking through its calm streets and through the coast, where there were some great structures the only ones holding nets of fishing traditional, of Chinese style, in functioning out of China. These big nets, of about 20 meters for 20 meters, were let fall on the water and it was waited during about 3 minutes that the fish commended to swim above, they raised afterwards with a system of ropes and counterweights, the fishing was extracted with a small net and the process was repeated again. In the face of the tens of Chinese nets in functioning, there was different stopped where they sold fresh fish and where we were negotiating the price of different kilos of prawns and squids, for afterwards to go to a restaurant where they cooked it for us. The first day we ate quite well, but the second day it was excellent, because José and Maria situated themselves behind the cooking of the restaurant and they themselves cooked four kilos of boiled prawns, four more of fried squid and a fish, that we devour with passion, while it remembered the aromas of my earth and per moments asked me whether doing this journey that was so long had been worth. Mysore (see on map) 29/12/2008:
Yesterday, after having dismissed us the previous night of our friends, we start to do path towards Mysore, where we would refind them after two or three days. Anyway, we stopped to not too many kilometres of Kochin, in Chalakudi, to find with Ignasi, a cousin of a friend of my mother that was found of volunteer in India, some chaplains helping Indian Catholics that took care of different mental handicapped persons. Ignasi went up to the car and while we directed to its job commented us that did years that was in India, lately in the area of Kerala living in the Ashram of the guru Amma, also although it needed social action to feel well spiritually. Ignasi told us that people did some weeks, when people arrived to the centre of the chaplains, the mental handicapped persons were very ill-treated, frequently beaten and closed indefinitely in its rooms; but Ignasi forbade the chaplains to continue with this behaviour, accusing one of the chaplains of not having Christian morality, who answered for he (the chaplain) not being Christian, but Hindu (I suppose that to be chaplain was a way of living of income charging permanently of Rome). When arriving to the centre, Ignasi greeted some boys who there were in the main room looking at the television, going afterwards up to the rooms to release different boys who there were closed. Afterwards, once they all brought together in the main room, Ignasi showed me different games with balloon with those that it had amusing and amused to the children, although at the same time Ignasi had to supervise continuously that an old man with alzaimer did not escape. In a given moment, a boy asked me that caught it well fort of the arm and I caught it missed, but then Ignasi appeared and commented me that if it kept catching it the arm, after little the boy would have an orgasm, and I left it immediately, reacting as if it were tightening another member for him. In another moment, another boy did me to go up to the rooms, I accompanied it intrigued up to the last room where there was a girl locked up. As it brought down again and asked Ignasi on the girl, this answered me that they had brought it during its absence, but that anyway she would open him the door. Then he started to look for the key, but this did not go out through any place. It asked to the boys if they had seen or had touched the key but none of these answered. Meanwhile, it was made late and I told Ignasi that we had to leave and I said goodbye to it while it kept looking for the key. And the surprise I have had it today, when we already found about 200 or 300 kilometres of Chalakudi. I have felt myself the pocket of the trousers and of them have takes an unknown key. To good insurance it was the key that Ignasi was looking for, but as had he ended up in my trousers? The only possible explanation was that one of the insane boys put it for me in the pocket, without realising that. Really it was a day of mad people, but the problem is that this madness was not finished yesterday afternoon, sinó followed yesterday to the night and also today. In the south of India we have parked and been slept some times next to the road, and as it did not have any problem up to the moment, to the night we also yesterday made it. But it seems that the neighbours of a next home told the police, who presented themselves about eight. The police seemed to mistrust us and once the documentation checked, they required - for our safety - to go to park some people from us. I answered them that it had right to parking where it was, that in the people the people not for of hitting the selfcaravan and that I already assumed the problems of safety. Finally they convinced themselves that I would not leave and considered themselves beaten. It was an anecdote that it would not even deserve to be written, but that added to the conflict that we have lived today, it has made the worst feelings towards the Indians for us bloom another time. We were circulating through the address road to Mysore, when we have found a toll. Before entering, we have read the price that the cars paid in a poster and paid the indicated amount. As, the conductor collectors almost always wanted for us to charge the double, for the category of small lorry and following the usual routine, we have shown the tickets of the previous tolls to show that we have always paid the category of car. But this time, they have not wanted to lower of the donkey and I, with less patience of the usual one, have pulled ahead throwing a signal of stop to the ground. But unfortunately, at three kilometres there was another toll to check the ticket and they have arrested us. Of nothing it has acted that it told the previous toll that it had already paid the amount them and of showing them the documentation of the car in which it indicated that my vehicle is a car and not a small lorry. It were wanted to avenge of jumping me the previous toll and wanted to charge more. And I, another time without too much patience, have caught the signal of stop in front of the selfcaravan and thrown myself it out of the road, at the same time as the conductor collector has gone up to the car to stop the engine while Alexandra gave him punches. Two seconds I have later managed to enter the car, while the man stole some keys of the selfcaravan from us and pulled the T-shirt for me afterwards breaking it. I managed to start, but we were caught, since the man had stolen some keys from us. I stopped a little further on, and as the man did not want for me to return the keys, I went across the car to the road so that the police arrived with more rapidity. The lorries kept circulating for the side, but after about thirty minutes, the police were there. At first, the policewoman girls were centred to threaten to Alexandra of putting it in the prison for insults and to require that did ever not touch them the uniform me, afterwards the inspector, with a version of the facts completely distorted, arrived. But when he proved that indeed we had already paid the amount of the toll according to our category and that one of the men had stolen us some keys and that it had broken me the T-shirt that he had been hanging, the inspector turned understanding and changed the expression towards the other ones. We could probably have lodged a complaint, but having the licence of the inspector to leave, we decide to try to forget the matter and follow the path. And as always, the discussion has turned about some tens of cents of euro. Probably the people that have not traveled to the India (or in similar countries) with a low budget, will not understand these dramas because of some crumbs, this constant fight not to be tangled some cents, simply for being tourists. As they explain us, David and Maria have also passed for similar situations (especially in the North), and also its fathers, that, despite having a little restricted budget, also confront similar dilemmas: not taking a rickshaw which you know is being paid to you for the triple or taking it because the price (in comparison in Europe) is asumible. Maybe because they travel with its children, but many times they have deprived themselves of catching the rickshaw and we have done however some good hikes. On the other hand, I also have to admit in the case of the tolls, that our selfcaravan is the double (or triple) of big that the Indian vans that enter in the category of car. Perhaps it should pay without protesting the category of lorry, but taking that many other times we have to agree to being tricked into account, prefer showing the documentation of the car and paying what corresponds me, as to minimum one time. ‹ Previous (30/10/2008) LUNA Next (2008-12-29)› ‹ Previous (2009-08-29 - Nepal) TARA Next (2009-09-19 - Pakistan)› |
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