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Published: December 17th 2018
Sreela’s dosais are perfect, absolutely perfect. Crispy. Lacy. Golden. Transparent almost.
She ferries each dosai from her skillet, proudly setting each one on my plate. They’re hot and steamy.
Her smile radiates. I think the dosais are smiling also.
I can hardly wait to crack off a piece and dip it into her coconut chutney. Last evening she made ginger coconut chutney just for me. I was in heaven.
“You don’t know how happy this makes me, “ I say. She nearly bursts with pleasure.
Pynkulam is like that. So many people seem to be bursting with pleasure, infectious pleasure.
Yesterday I followed my feet, walking down an unexplored path along the river. It gave way to agricultural fields, a few houses. As I passed one, a young boy from within called, “How are you?” His English was impeccable—he was in fourth standard at an English medium school. His older brother Nikhil appeared, and they both chatted in English. Their grandmother stood by, and Mom soon emerged, all smiles. We chatted for a few minutes, and we discovered we could speak a little Tamil. Nikhil offered to teach me Malayalam, which all Keralans speak.
Today is a festival in Pynkulam, for the deity Ayappa, an important and popular deity in Kerala. There’s free food, lots of lights on the street, a procession with devotees, and an elephant. I have mixed feelings about the elephant, who’s been chained to the same tree for the last couple days. Men were gathering palm leaves from the house next door for elephant to munch.
Panjali approached me on the street yesterday as I looked at the elephant, and she invited me to go with her to the festival. I could barely understand what she was saying. So I happened by her rose-colored house later, and her daughter, who has a degree in English, was there to help translate. They never stopped smiling as they explained the happenings on festival day. I’m to meet Panjali in the evening to experience the festival with her.
Mr. V, or Vijayan, is the tall lanky man who greeted me when I came to Painkulam. Nearly every day since I came 6 days ago, he has stopped by my little porch to chat. Sometimes he joins me on early morning walks—he walks about 6 km, I walk about 4. I try
to start early in the morning while it’s still dark. I can’t sleep when the temple music starts blaring at 5:00 am, so I figured I might as well get up and set out while it’s cool.
I met up with Mr. V yesterday on the road. An older woman on the street talked to me and said, “husband?” Like, are you by yourself? Where’s your husband?? I’m somewhat of a curiosity here—I guess they don’t get too many single travelers, especially older women. Anyway, I motioned to Mr. V—he’s my husband-(yuk-yuk, I thought). Mr. V smiled and the lady didn’t know what to say. I need to ask him if he thought that was a good joke.
Mr. V is Sreela’s husband. He is retired from the Indian army, having worked in communications. He was stationed in many places, including Kashmir and Sierra Leone for a peacekeeping mission. I would never have thought Mr. V was retired from the army. He adores all animals, and he tells me that squirrels and birds come to him. Even Zelda, the dog who had no name until I named her, follows him faithfully wherever he goes. He lavishes her with
pets, even though he told me earlier he doesn’t like to touch her.
Speaking of animals, you’ll never believe who just passed by my house. The elephant!!
So I had to take a break, because I ran after the elephant, on its way to the river for a bath. I found Mr. V on the way, and he ushered me to the river, where Dharman the 30 year old elephant—he’s a boy by the way—was lying on his side in the water, trunk tip out, and four guys were scrub-scrubbing him with coconut husks.
I talked with his co-owners through Mr. V.—two fairly young men, who own three elephants, all boys. They transport them to religious events, where they officially work for an hour or two. At the current festival, they will get 20,000 rupees for one hour work. I assume it’s for when the elephant walks with the procession of Ayappa devotees, but I’ll soon find out.
Mr. V. told me each village collects donations from the villagers and puts them into a fund, which is used for elephants and such for religious occasions. “They are gods,” Mr. V says, so they’re necessary. Villagers also
supply food for the elephant from their gardens.
While running around with Mr. V, I received a paternal lecture from him, in front of the elephant owners, about how I mustn’t go out on my own, especially at night and in early morning.
“I’m telling them that you go everywhere, all hours by yourself. And something is going to happen to you, and what will happen then? What if while you’re walking a truck hits you? No one will know who you are or do anything,” he said.
“Well then you’ll just find me splatted on the road,” I said.
“But we won’t know, you’ll be all alone.”
“Someone always helps me, they always come and help.”
“No one will be there,” he said. “You need someone to look after you.”
“Don’t worry, I go everywhere in the US on my own with no problems. I look for dangers. I know when it’s unsafe. In fact, when I walk with you, I’m the one protecting YOU.”
We’ve already developed a bit of a “relationship,” you see, and I love it. At least he laughs when I tease him. That’s my goal, to
make him laugh.
While Sreela his wife was making perfect dosais for me, her 5’7” daughter Jyothsna (I told her she could be a model) was concocting something in a big pot. Smelled of chocolate. Sreela and I retreated to her roof under a glorious waxing moon to solve the problems of the world, and Jyothsna appeared with her creation for us to taste.
“It is burnt. Do you smell it? I didn’t like the consistency, so I added some protein powder.”
It wasn’t bad—kind of a molten chocolate dessert, but the burnt portions were a bit inedible. I congratulated her for her creativity.
And soon I leave this place—tomorrow—just when I’m falling in love. Such a special place, with special people, and my heart can’t help but grow big here.
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RENanDREW
Ren & Andrew
"...my heart can’t help but grow big here"
I think that's the best compliment a place could ever receive! I've never had a ginger coconut chutney - sounds delicious :)