JaJaJeEv

Our last afternoon in Kerala was spent in Fort Kochi (or Cochin), at the northern end of the main stretch of backwaters.

That day, at least, it was a sleepy place, bathed in early evening sunlight through the Chinese fishing nets. That siesta feel is complemented by relics of the town’s Portuguese influence: quaint backstreets, art galleries, Iberian-style churches and a pretty town square.

Despite a higher tourism ratio around the fort itself, there’s still an authenticity to the place. If you don’t watch where you’re going, you’ll trip over the sign to the State Bank training centre, for example.

We liked it a lot. Another facet to this hugely diverse country – but still very much India.

Next stop – the train onto Goa!

One of the things I didn’t really think about before we came to India was the seasons. Of course we knew about the monsoon, but I’d naïvely assumed there were still four parts to the year. Not so! As the inside of our (Korean-manufactured) fridge confirms, there are really only three: winter, summer, monsoon; in that order.

It did feel odd having summer (and the holidays) in April and May, before I figured out the geography. The length of the day doesn’t vary much, but being south of the Tropic, that is when the sun is directly above us. By the middle of the year, it’s actually lower in the sky.

Well, after a scorching summer, to muddle my metaphors, this year’s monsoon has been a bit of a wash-out: more like a feeble British summer than a tropical force of nature.

It’s been far drier in all parts of the country than usual (particularly the north), and grain shortages and agricultural problems are manifold and widespread. Actually it’s a very serious deal.

(To re-enact the classic monsoon experience, for us, however, we resort to fountains at the local picnic spot.)

Now we’re in September and the sun is at its zenith again. Who knows what surprises the climate holds in store for us and the rest of this agriculture-dependent nation?

Today was Anant Chaturdashi, the last day of the festival of Ganeshotsav, and (despite its somewhat anti-colonial history) we’ve been made to feel very welcome in the festival’s proceedings by our fellow residents.

So Ganesh has been down in the car park keeping us all company for about 10 days, and receiving daily pujas. Today it was time for his journey down to the river.

The Godavari River is one of India’s most holy, but is conveniently only a brisk 5 minute walk away from here. On the other hand, what’s the rush? It’s a great opportunity for a noisy procession, complete with dancing and blaring Bollywood hits from the back of a vehicle.

From nervous novices during Holi, our children have now become precision paint-powder ninjas:

And this time, Jayne doesn’t escape so lightly either:

But of course it’s an important Hindu festival too. And when we reach the bridge over the river, the rowdiness stops and our apartment’s gang makes the final offerings to the statues: coconut, flowers and so on.

Not surprisingly, neither we, nor our fellow residents, are prepared to accompany Ganesh’s final swim in the murky, litter-strewn river. Nevertheless, there’s a cottage industry of local boys who will carry him out to the depths and see him off for you.

The boys then bring back a handful of sediment from the river, which you take back to your home. The cycle is complete (give or take a few kilos of gypsum and cadmium dissolved into the water supply).

The full set of photos is here. What a memorable day!

One of my favourite photos of the trip we took through Kerala. We crashed at a great hotel on the banks of the lake for a few nights, and this dramatic electric night was as photogenic as they come.

Nevertheless, don’t be deceived. This was a rare summer storm, and the rest of the holiday was of flawless sunshine. Pre-monsoon though, it was a welcome relief!

Swine flu has gripped the Indian media and consequentially the nation.  This picture was taken before Jex and Evie’s school was closed for a week.

This is a popular hangout for us next to the Godavari river and its impressive waterfall complete with the washing ghats and temple.  Jex asked me to take a picture of them both standing next to the snake painting and the temple.  So I did.

Its Ganesh time of year and the popular Hindu elephant God is everywhere.  To celebrate, we went all arts-and-crafts and reused an old pile of the ‘The Times of India’ to papier mache a mask complete with trunck and obligatory glitter.

The kids have taken to a spot of stretching with our very own Yoga Teacher.

Little Italy has become our second home so we couldn’t let Hilary leave without trying the ‘Om’ pizza.

Remote, sluggish, Keralan backwater – check.

Cheerful villagers on the bank – check.

State-of-the-art mobile phones – er, check.

It seems to be a myth that rural Indians are anything other than first-class mobile citizens.

(Also I should add that we were in the middle of nowhere – but I still had a blazing data connection for navigating the channels on Google Maps.)

And the full set of our Keralan photos are here.