Kerala Backwaters and a Massage to Remember

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I didn’t waste any time once given the green light to go and booked it to Kochi, a smaller city on the coast of Southern India. We flew a small Kingfisher prop plane through a monsoon to get here so had a ball as usual. As soon as we got here, I immediately felt more at home. The apartment overlooks the Arabian Sea and from a distance it reminds me of the intercoastal waterways of St. Josephs Sound. Once you get closer the differences between here and home become more apparent: the trash, the murky polluted water, the smell of trash and polluted water. It’s sad but it’s still the Arabian Sea and I’m happy to be able to experience it.

My roommate and I decided that the perfect post busy season getaway would be a purely relaxing weekend booked on a houseboat to tour the Alleppey backwaters. As we slowly idled down the river we passed a small village that had a rejuvenating center. We stopped and decided to get massages (which came highly recommended). I’ve never had a massage, mostly because I never wanted to pay the amount of money it costs and secondly, the idea of someone I don’t know touching me is not as comforting to me as it seems to be for most people. Anyway, I’ve been trying to open up and do things that I wouldn’t normally do and I figured since India is so conservative and inexpensive, if I am ever going to get a massage it might as well be here. There was only one woman available so my roommate went in first.

Sometimes I believe in fate and sometimes I don’t. This happened to be one of those I’m-a-believer times. Sara went in first because I went around the back of the ‘rejuvenating center’ to take a picture of the rice fields. When I came back she was gone. An hour later a woman came to get me and ushered me into one of the smallest and dirtiest rooms I have ever been in. Inside, there was this slab covered in someone else’s coconut oil. Sara’s clothes were everywhere and I heard water splashing from a small attached bathroom. As the woman was telling me in broken English to take off all of my clothes Sara came out of the bathroom wearing a hand towel and with the widest eyes I’ve seen on her. She was telepathically telling me to run like hell. I immediately started backing for the door but the masseuse wasn’t having it. She backed Sara into a corner and asked her what she said to me. Just to ease the tension I told her I’d take a face massage (anything that wouldn’t require the removal of clothing and lying on that slab!) I walked out of there 25 minutes later with a coconut oiled fro and a greasy face that is still shining bright to this day. Never again!

The rest of the weekend was relaxing and uneventful. We slowly drifted down the river, sipped on coconut milk and just took in the beautiful scenery or read our books. We stopped at a small fish market and picked up some fresh prawns and crab for dinner. I’m not sure if a prawn is some sort of giant shrimp, small lobster or something in-between but they're great. I have decided that I like Southern Indian food much better than the food in Bangalore. Everything that I’ve had down here has been cooked in coconut oil. The vegetables, the seafood, and the potato dishes I’ve tried have all had the faint taste of coconut! It’s so hot and humid here that I don’t think their food is as painfully spicy either. In Bangalore, I had this uneasy rumbling in my stomach for the first three weeks that I was there, forcing me to swear off Indian food (other than Kingfisher and garlic nan). I’ve limited myself to one Indian dish a week and ever since I’ve been feeling better. There are only a few comparisons to the amount of spice that Indians heave into their food. Habanero pepper sauce, the feeling of burning alive from the inside out and/or strep throat. Indian food is delicious if you can handle the spice. For me, the fire builds in my mouth with each bite and accumulates in my stomach, turning my stomach into a bobble head of its own.

There is absolutely no escape from their spices. They have spicy baby food, hot and spicy ice cream, and even red hot toothpaste. Even if you swear off the food, the parasitic spices will find a way into your body. When the mosquitoes bite you, they are intravenously injecting the spice from the Indian they just bit directly into your veins. The burning sensation lasts for about 45 minutes and then starts to reside just as soon as you’ve decided it’s necessary to continue on, living with the pain. Everyone thought I was exaggerating when I told them I was up all night in chronic pain because of one mosquito bite. Most of them have now had a similar exhilarating experience. Not every mosquito has this effect; it’s either a separate mutated species of mosquito or it just depends on who they’ve previously feasted on. In my completely unscientific but logically-it-makes-some-sense-to-me opinion, I’m going with the latter theory.

I miss everyone, my family, my friends, my co-workers, my home and most of all my favorite Will. I can't wait to see everyone!

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Photos

Lunch on Houseboat
Looking at this picture, I can't believe I ate this thing!

Street in Kochi
Kochi is a much smaller town than Bangalore. The driving, however, is equally horrific. There is no concept of right or left lanes, only the constant game of chicken with the winner being whoever's driving the bigger vehicle.

Alleppey
Road to get to houseboat

Rejuvenating Center
At this point Sara doesn't know what she's in for:)

Room on Board Houseboat
I liked the mosquito net so much I may get one and hang it in my room when I get home (another addition Will is sure to love).

Comments

[Saajkerala]

fake masage centre
I think you have been tricked by some fake massage centre.If you want a massage then go to some government recognised ayurvedic centres

[sandy]

old man tailor
Your great grandfather, LA Johnson? The only tailor in Mentor Ohio.