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Published: January 9th 2010
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I've had my first dose of India getting the better of me. It only took one week. One week... and some young sexually repressed men. Part of me can hardly blame them: there are beautiful women everywhere and 99% of them dare not be in the public eye with not only sleeves and long pants under long shirts... but with scarves strategically placed to disguise the fact that they own breasts. I hadn't realized how much of my energy had been invested in worrying about how my long shirt was sitting, about not having a scarf yet, and then --once I did-- whether it was still sitting where it ought. Yep... pretty oblivious up to the point where I lost it when I caught a man peeking through the window watching me shower on the house boat. The most infuriating part, was my inability to get out fast enough to let him have it (kinda hard when running out in a towel would have added a further dent to what dignity I was left with).
Being proper as a woman is a big deal here. I am constantly shocked as I run into western women travelers who think their at
Thanks Alison!
Thanks Alison for the wonderful present of this boat trip! How'd we get so lucky!?!? home.
The top 3:
3. Woman in a strapless halter dress. Every other strip on the dress is sheer. It's black to match her visible panties.
2. Woman wearing a long Indian top, no pants. The slit exposes her hip. It's seems impossible she's wearing underwear.
1. Woman in a zebra stripped top sitting 1/4 of the way down her thigh with a slit half way up her hip --complimented with a belt, of course.
I feel embarrassed to share a western heritage with these women. They make me more determined --and seemingly more necessary-- to stay 'in-line'.
The highlight through all this fuss of decency on the boat, is Jeff saying to me (after my complaints that the now 'resort-town' of Varkala isn't at all India) "first, not enough India. Now too much." Touche! :-) I love his ability to gingerly point out my own absurdity sometimes. I'm reminded of why I had a love-hate relationship with this country. I love that it begs of me to take a different look at myself... to meet myself anew.
But onto Alleppey...
We enjoyed a 20 hour stint on a lovely houseboat, cruising the back waters, with
a staff of 2.2. The promised staff of 3 lasted a little over an hour, until we dropped our captain off for a day and night at home with his family. Now we're staffed by our cook (who has made --by far-- our best meals in Kerala), and the assistant captain (as Jeff liked to call him)... who was to be our english speaking link and took from my asking for privacy so I could go for a swim, that he should join me (us). Hm.
Jeff does a great imitation of him:
J: what kind of fish are in these waters?
AC: 4 meters.
It's his new running joke... and a good answer to many unknowns.
Besides the peep show, the time on the boat was wonderful (thanks Alison!). Sheer luxury. The photos will better show this off. We had our own room and bathroom. A small living room was on the lower deck along with the kitchen. The upper deck (!) hosted a combo dinning room and second living room complete with a day-bed type lounging area at the front of this deck. Jeff feeds me mini-bananas while I stretch out. We took hundreds of pictures
(thanks Dianna for the idea of editing/deleting as we go!). We ate like kings & queens (yep: plural. We ate enough for many at each meal).
In the morning, we land at a different place than where we've taken off from. Unlike the place our rickshaw driver took us to to choose a boat, this place is bustling with boats. Hundreds. It's ready to burst, and we moor behind a boat that is behind a boat and have to walk through them all to go ashore. It occurs to me at this point that we were had. Our driver didn't take us to the boat jetty as he said he would, but rather to a side street where there were very few choices and hence, we paid top dollar. Arrg. There seems no end to needing to stay constantly aware.
We found a quaint place to stay in town, just off the canals. The price was good --perhaps because of it's proximity to the Muslim temple where prayers are blasted out at 5:20am over a loudspeaker... just like in Fort Kochin! Perhaps it's so people can be lead in prayer without need of leaving their homes? Perhaps it's
to pump salvation into you whether you're wanting or not? Either way, it's a mystery to me. A rather loud one.
Fooled by a map lacking a consistent scale, yesterday we walked a long way along the canal partway to the beach before catching a rickshaw. We walked a barren beach, inhabited only by sandpipers doing their dance with the ever changing shoreline.
As we've arrived in the height of holiday time (til mid Jan) we had to get up and to the train station 2 days ago by 6am to secure ourselves some 'tatkal' tickets that came at a premium. Without it, reservations would need to have been made a couple weeks in advance I'm told. It's hard for me to plan in advance where I might wish to wonder and for how long. All the same, we're booked on a train tonight... and make our way to Mysore, world capital of sandalwood, and home to colourful, bustling markets and a palace. I'm hoping we might find the same all-you-can-eat thali place from 10 years ago that costs a mere $1.
Off to soon find lunch...
Namaste.
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sandy Deby
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Great pics
Hey Mel, Great seeing your blog......bringing back memories....I remember the love hate reltionship there too......xo Sandy