The most popular trip
was sold out -- boat rides through the islands.
We were told that they
were trying to arrange more excursions, but the problem was finding enough
small boats.
Since that was out of
the question, my second choice was to visit a village. Because I live near a
small village in the summer and am always interested in what is going on there,
I thought a small hamlet in India would be of equal interest to me.
Greg, Wyona, Moiya and
David felt the same way so we signed up for the same trip.
... on
the way to the village ...
The ride to the
village would be an hour, we were told.
Greg said afterwards
how surprised he was, since an hour ride to a village seemed to us to mean that
we would be seeing the countryside.
Instead there were
stores and houses along the road, almost until we arrived at the village.
People were walking
along the streets, families drove by on bicycles, and trucks whose cabs were
psychedelic works of art were parked by the sides of the road.
...
village drummers welcoming the tourists...
We were met
by village drummers.
And then we
transferred to a tuk-tuk (auto rickshaw) for the rest of the journey to the
village.
The transfer did not
happen without resistance.
I have been warned so
many times not to engage in conversation with anyone approaching me with an
offer of a local tour, that I walked by the first 6 tuk-tuks, thinking it was
my job to walk to the village.
...
Moiya's head marking begins to wilt ...
I would have never
made it in the heat.
Afterwards someone
said, "The bus tour guide should have explained to us that we were to get
into those vehicles."
I didn't agree because
no one could get enough explanations to take care of all of the vagaries that
happen along the way of such a trip.
... a
moment together in the village ...
I do not know which
was more surprising to me of the following three things.
First a small boy
motioned to me that I should put down my head, and he put a flower lei around
my neck.
Then a woman came by
and made a red mark on my forehead.
Then a huge cocoanut
with a straw extruding out of the top was thrust into my
hands.
I could just hear
myself thinking ... boy, this is already a lot of fun and we haven't even
entered the village, really.
... a
candid in an Indian village ...
The general
theme was to show us the village: a woman making clay pots, another woman
weaving baskets, and a third preparing herbs to cure headaches.
We saw a man
doing silver smithing; we watched women preparing lunches for their
families
... am I
in that picture? ...
I am having
some trouble with the text of this post, since one part of the tour felt like
we were going from station to station, as we would if we were going to see a
group of students displaying their science projects.
On the other hand,
there was this amazing feeling of being in the jungle, hearing the sounds of
the birds, being overwhelmed by the humid air, observing the details of the
jungle growth, walking on the dirt paths and turning corners around trees and
walking over planks that crossed streams.
...
everyone's turn for a funny face ...
The little boy who had
put the wreath around my neck followed me along, asking my name, practising his
English on me.
I began taking
pictures of the flora and fauna, but their little faces were far more
interesting to me.
Wyona said to me,
"Where are the girls? We haven't seen any of the girls."
"I noticed that
too," I said.
Wyona asked one of the
women where the little girls were.
And soon the little
girls appeared -- so sweet, hanging onto their mother's hands.
I was worrying that I
would not be able to fully experience everything around me.
I was taking pictures
of clay vases by the side of the road, of the washing hanging by the
houses.
Why am I always taking
pictures of that, I thought. Venice. Rome.
Egypt. Alexandria.
Now India.
I want to see that
invisible work of how people really live.
... Greg
pauses in the jungle shadows ...
But somehow it is more
than that.
I want to see how they
hang the bananas by the side of the store, where the little stream runs to, ask
why there is only one bucket by the well
I am charmed by the
3-person toilet that has been set up for us.
"You aren't going
to use that," a woman said to me.
"Are you
kidding. I am trying everything whether I need to or not," I
reply.
I am still working at
making this whole experience complete.
The village is working
hard to show us how they live.
I want to do my part
to take enough in that I can work out the bits and pieces I don't understand
when I get home.
...
capturing the serenity of the village ...
When I saw this quiet
stream running beside one of the paths, I thought it captured what the village
must feel like when it is quieter ... not on display.
So beautiful, the
cottage on the other side, the well tended paths, the hedges carefully planted
and trimmed.
... a
complimentary snack ...
Coke or coconut shell
with straw
Complimentary
snacks -- that is what the tour guide told us about the L-shaped table.
Coke or cocoanut
milk.
Your culture or
ours.
I have been running my
set of photos from the village on my desktop since I got home.
I stop each day to
take another look at the magic of a small Indian village in the province of
Kerala.
Arta
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