Fishing Nets and the Backwaters

     I flew into Cochin Airport in Kerala on Wednesday morning. After a long winding and trafficky drive through Ernaluku, the hectic main city, I arrived at my homestay in Fort Cochin. It’s a family-run place very similar to a hostel, but much more personal, especially since I am the only person staying here at the moment. It’s low season for traveling in India due to the heat in some places and .monsoons in others (like here). But that makes it all the better for me – a charming little town with plenty of English and lots to see but off-season prices and lacking the typical crowds. The owner of the homestay has been incredibly helpful, sitting me down with a map when I arrived and getting me oriented to the city – where to eat, how much to pay for transportation, what to see. He’s quite chatty and it’s very interesting to hear about his family, his previous job of working with boating companies and sailing around the world, and his perspective on his country. 

     After getting settled in, I did my initial wanderings of the town. Walked the wrong direction initially of course, as I often do, but soon gained my bearings and was able to navigate. There is very little traffic in the area, which means less honking and lots of being able to walk. There are even sidewalks, through because of the rain they are covered in moss and extremely slippery, so I mostly walk along the streets. My homestay is about fifteen minutes walk from the central tourist area, which is actually really nice (except when it’s pouring and I want food) because I can walk along through the streets of friendly people going about their daily life, not heckling me to stop and look at their shop or eat at their restaurant. I like walking the same routes time and time again in new cities and towns while traveling; it’s always is a good way to get to know an area and get a sense for what it’s like beyond the superficial tourist aspect of it, to pass by the same people and animals multiple times a day, to have a little bit of a home in a new place. 

     I wandered down to the water where the massive Chinese fishing nets are situated, a group of fishermen working and talking along each dock. They typically sell fish to the tourists (their choice) and it is taken to a nearby stall to be cooked. When I told the guy who tried to sell me a fish that I was vegetarian, he said that he’d give me vegetarian fish. I passed him several times that evening and every time he saw me, he jokingly shouted out about my vegetarian fish. Five days later, I walked by again and he still remembered. I walked onto one of the docks with the fishing nets and started talking with a group of very friendly fishermen. It’s low season for them in terms of both tourists and fish, so they were bored and wanted to chat. Before I fully realized what was happening, they had me alongside them pulling on the heavy ropes to get the net out of the water. So I guess I inadvertently went fishing?

 

 It was an entertaining experience, and I spent a little while longer talking to them and watching them work before continuing to stroll down the beach road. Climbed out on a pile of rocks to watch the sunset over the mix of the backwaters and the Arabian Sea. It was more wandering until dinner, enjoying this serene town that’s certainly much better without its normal flood of tourists. 

      The next day I went on a boat tour of the backwaters. I was in a group with a couple from France (who happened to be the only other foreigners with me on the plane froma Chennai) and a couple from India. It was really interesting to talk to the girl from France, as she’s a medical student who recently finished an internship in Pondicherry.  We drove about an hour away and boarded our little boat. Many of the boat trips are motor-run and this causes a lot of pollution, especially during high season, but our boat was rowed by two men, one in front and one in back, regardless of the rain that came pounding down at times. It was impressive how expertly they were able to row the boat – a single stroke looked exhausting, so I can’t even imagine doing it for hours on end. 

     We floated on down the backwaters, through the rivers, into narrow canals, into the biggest lake in Kerala. Past people canoeing by with their catches of fish, women washing their laundry in water in front of their houses, people going about their lives. Some of the houses are connected to roads, whereas others need to go boat. There were a few animals wandering about, but all of them clearly attached to a home, unlike the stray dogs and cats that are all over the mainland. There were wandering goats, the occasional cow, a water buffalo taking a bath, and lots of chickens. The only wildlife that we saw while out were birds, though quite a few of them, singing away.

 Other than that, aside from the occasional motor boat that passed us by, there was just the splash of the oar each time our rower took a stroke, and the sound of the rain pattering down on the water and the tin roofs in intermittent spurts. We would go for a while with no rain and then out of nowhere, there would be a small drizzle and seconds later, pounding rain – we were sheltered within the boat, but our rowers were our in the midst of it, continuing on as if there was no change. 

       We made several stops on our cruise through the backwaters. Extremely touristy, yes, but very interesting nonetheless. The first was at a lime kiln operation, which because of the dust and fumes, wasn’t situated near any other houses or buildings. Fisherman sold the meat of many little black clams in the markets in town and brought the shells here – there were massive piles of shells, which apparently made a convenient place for the workers to dry their clothes. 

 There was a covered room (no windows or doors) with a big open kiln. Inside were rows of burned coconut shells. The workers heated more coconut shells and placed the red-hot shells in a circle in the center of the kiln. Bucket after bucket of the shells, now mixed with petroleum ash, were poured on top of the shells. In between them, dried coconut fibers and more coconut shells were placed. When the mountain of shells had reached sufficient height, we backed out of the room and watched as they turned the generator on, which circles oxygen underneath the kiln and fuels the process. There was a click and immediately waves of white smoke came pummeling out of the kiln, first little clouds and then filling up the entire room and exiting out into the surrounding air. It felt like watching a little experiment from chemistry class in massive proportion. 

This process lasts six hours, after which the coconut portions have all burnt away and what is left is calcium oxide in the form of pure white shells. These shells are mixed with an equal proportion of water and this eventually turns into a white powder, calcium hydroxide. After it’s filtered, it is packaged into 50kg bags and sent off to be used for a variety of purposes – paper, chalk, cement, toothpaste, and to be sprinkled into still water to ward off mosquitoes, to name a few. A bit down the river, we passed by a group of men unloading a massive pile of these bags from their canoe onto a truck. A few of them would lift the bag onto the head of another, and he would walk up a set of stairs, dump the bag onto the pile, and come back for another. All of this in the pouring rain. 

      Our next stop was a home where they made twine rope out of coconut fibers. The fibers were dried and processed elsewhere and brought to the individual homes where it was woven into twine. The woman had a large pouch attached to her waist in which she stuffed a large amount of these fibers. She attached one end to a spinning device and as if by magic, these pieces all came together as she walked backwards across her yard and pulled more fibers out of her pouch. After making two thin ropes which were easily breakable, they were spun together with the magic of the simple spinning apparatus and turned into extremely sturdy twine. This coconut rope is used all over the place, from weaving the ceiling of our boat together to making door mats. I had a bit of trouble paying full attention to the process, as I was a bit distracted by the adorable tiny puppy  (like most animals here, separated from its mother far too young, but at least well cared for) who frolicked and pranced in the pile of fibers, nipped at everyone’s ankles, and jumping up to try to grab the rope as it twisted round and round.

     We walked around on the land a bit and our guide showed us various plants. A tree with the fruit from which nutmeg emerges as the fruit splits open on the bottom. This fruit also contains mace, which is much more expensive. Trees wrapped in vines with buds that will become peppers, and others vanilla. Turmeric roots, with a yellow paste that we rubbed on our bug bites and aside from cooking are also used for skin lightening and sun protection. In the villages near Vizag, I had seen quite a few women and children with their faces tinted yellow. There was also fresh oregano, bitter leaves that are chewed with other spices, tamarind leaves, several poisonous plants, and lots of biting ants. 

     We stopped for lunch on a tiny little island with a few huts just as it started pouring. We ran inside and watched as the sheets of rain poured down into the water around us, pounding away on the tin roof. There was a dog wandering around, not at all phased by the rain. We were given our lunch on banana leaves with gigantic servings of rice, sambar, and three different curries. I was surprised given that it was a tourist trip that the food was actually fairly spicy – the Indians also finished every morsel, but it nearly brought the French girl and me to tears. The dog was more than happy to finish our portion for us. Luckily the dessert was a coconut pudding-sort of thing that took away the burn. The rain didn’t let up, so we squelched through giant sticky muddy puddles to get back to the boat. As we made our way back to the starting point, I was cold for the first time ever in India while being outside!

More later about a bit more of Cochin and a weekend trip to Munnar... though thanks to a memory card that mysteriously has error messages, no photos for now, hopefully will be able to retrieve them later.