Mosquitoes are in Heaven, Too

Kanyakumari was actually a stopover for MANAM on our way to Madurai (the Sri Meenakshi temple surrounded by an archetypal Indian heaving mass of filth and chaos), also in Tamil Nadu. Mikael had a mission. And we wanted to be there for him. And so it was. Certainly not easy, but best expressed in his own words.

And then, as previously planned, Nina and I headed to the Kerala backwaters for a four-day houseboat cruise, while Mikael made his way alone in various places in Tamil Nadu. We all planned to meet up in Hampi, which would be my final destination in India.

As it turns out, Mikael wants to keep traveling with me. And who am I to say no?! If all goes according to plan, we will do a grand tour of Southeast Asia together, starting in Singapore, and proceeding to Indonesia, Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia. Needless to say, I am rather looking forward to it.

But back to the houseboat. For starters, it was small, or at least our quarters were. Notwithstanding being a tad cramped, for four days we cruised along the most spectacular natural scenery you can possibly imagine, with our crew. Siju was the cook, and the one with the most English. What raw culinary talent! All day long we were just fed, and the local delicacies were nothing short of scrumptious. Shaji was our captain, who piloted us expertly across rivers, canals, lakes and even out to the ocean. And Sabu was the engineer, always helpful.

Palm trees, with coconuts, bananas, rice paddies galore, on the calmest of waterways, all instilled an unbreakable sense of serenity from the moment we boarded. It was truly heaven. The only thing is that mosquitoes abound in heaven. And not just here. I recall a similar experience in the Andamans. The two seem to go together. I guess you have to take the bitter with the sweet. Conveniently, I have run out of anti-malaria medication, so let’s just hope for the best from here on in.

Moored by a rice paddy, eating from the crop of shucked short-grain red rice was a particular treat. I can’t recall ever having this type of rice anywhere else. We had fish once a day and a vegetarian meal at dinner, except for the day when the fishermen pulled up right alongside us and sold us river tiger prawns – who could resist? There was fresh fruit in abundance. Curries with potatoes, beans, okra, fresh salads, grated coconut of course in all manner of things, garlic and lime pickles, all graced our meals. In between, there was a constant flow of masala chai, strong southern coffee, biscuits, fruit and yoghurt, and well, you get the idea. Our most memorable breakfast was of idly, a southern specialty. Normally, you eat two, or perhaps three if you are feeling particularly ambitious that morning. Well, Siju brings out a stack, not unlike hotcakes. There must have been at least twenty. We ate all except three. I was a little embarrassed at my own gluttony, but then I realized that we were also making Siju very happy. There is no greater compliment to a cook than an empty plate. And I sort of suspected that many of the Western tourists he hosts are not used to the food, and it must be nice to cook for folks that so enjoy his own mother’s down-home recipes.

Every day there was an onshore activity. On one day, we went out to a beach literally where the river spills into the ocean. It was a most fetching beach. On the river side, it got deep very quickly. On the ocean side, the waves were high, but crested quite close to shore, so it was very pleasant to be out a bit further. And to be sure, the water wasn’t as salty as one would expect in the ocean.

As it turns out, there was a festival at the time of our little cruise, and we passed by a temple playing devotional music. Now this wasn’t the crap I was most cruelly subjected to in Rishikesh (or in Madurai for that matter). This was beautiful. It was catchy. I want to remember it as our backwater soundtrack. In any case, they took us to a temple onshore to see elephants all dolled up for the occasion, and we witnessed a procession around the temple grounds. It was truly a National Geographic moment.

The following day, we saw a traditional Kerala wedding ceremony at another temple. Up until that time, I had only ever seen Indian weddings in movies. To that end, let me state for the record that the most beautiful bride I have ever seen on the silver screen was Rani Mukerji in Chori Chori. Aishwarya is also a lovely bride. But this was the Real McCoy, and we enjoyed the experience immeasurably.

I had expected there to be at least one electrical outlet on the boat, but alas it wasn’t the type that I could charge all my toys with. But once I started playing music on the computer, Uncle André’s Great Box of Wonders became an instant hit with the crew, and they made every effort to find locals onshore who were willing to let me charge the computer and external battery, sometimes twice a day. Once I even waded through a small river flood to get to a house. A few evenings we screened movies, to all of our enjoyment. And if you’re thinking that such a device ruins the rustic experience, you couldn’t be more incorrect. There is absolutely nothing more pleasing than cruising down the waterways with the soundtracks of Om Shanti Om and Bhool Bhulaiyaa as accompaniment.

I’m really glad that this is my penultimate activity in India. It’s almost like saving the best for last. Spending it with Nina only amplified the magic. To my chagrin, MANAM will part ways in Hampi, our next destination, and my last in India. It has been eight months. It really is time to move on.