Sri Lanka & South India Summary

Visiting northern India and Nepal three years ago, we learned that there are profound regional differences across this vast and highly populated subcontinent. Thus, we wanted to see how the south differs. Our journey to Sri Lanka and south India comprised nearly a month -- 27 days. We flew from Minneapolis to Chicago to Dubai (long flight!). After a day and a half in Dubai, we continued on to Colombo, Sri Lanka.

Sri Lanka is a very diverse country with several climate zones and topographies. The island has a long history of domination by outside powers – India in ancient times, and the Portuguese, Dutch, and British in the colonial period. They are proud of their independence and of the struggle they have had to unify the country after a long and bloody civil war. If there are still divisions, we did not detect them.

Highlights of our week in Sri Lanka included a visit to a Buddhist monastery and exposure to aspects of Buddhist culture, getting close to a large herd of elephants at Habarana, climbing to the ruins of the ancient fortress palace at Sigiriya, and visiting the ancient capital city of Kandy in the central highlands. We also enjoyed visiting the colonial port of Galle, and meeting the very forward-thinking young operator of a tea plantation.

Our time in India began in the colonial port city of Chennai (known in colonial times as Madras), where in the course of a day we visited slums, busy markets, survivors of the tsunami at their fishing boats, and crashed the wedding of a prosperous American couple at one of the oldest Christian churches in the country. Here we shifted from Buddhist culture to Hindu culture, being introduced to the masala dosa as a favorite meal, and participating the blessing of our bus before continuing our journey.

Adventures included visiting the first of many large temples we would experience, being blessed by a Hindu priest, having our fortune told by a bird, crowding onto a local commuter train, seeing monuments carved from a single huge block of granite, and swimming in India’s longest pool at a beautiful beach-side resort.

We toured an ashram, learned about yoni and lingam, came to recognize some of the distinctions between Vishnu and Shiva as Hindu gods, and enjoyed the hospitality of villagers who are just beginning to come to terms with climate change and the need to care for the environment. We learned about local politics, became aware of social problems such a domestic abuse, watched performances of traditional dance, and toured a factory where popular snacks and candies are made and packaged.

In Thanjavur we marveled at the huge Brihadisvara Temple. We visited a shop where the traditional musical instrument, the rudra veena, is still hand-made by craftsmen, saw artisans create bronze statuary, and were invited into the home of a delightful family where the 15-year-old daughter was the most charming hostess.

Continuing to Madurai, we had the good fortune to visit a sacred temple that every Hindu hopes to see in his or her lifetime, and to do so on the day of a major festival, when the crowded temple was filled with processions, music, and much activity.

We continued west into the mountains, leaving the Indian state of Tamil Nadu and heading toward Periyar in the state of Kerala. Here we learned about various spices, how they are grown and how they are processed. We also enjoyed a hike in a tiger preserve area, which is also home to many other species of plants and animals.

Near the end of our journey we had two nights on a “kettuvellam.” These are rice barges that once transported the harvest of the endless plains of Kerala, now transformed into “houseboats” for hauling tourists. Finally, we capped off the journey at Fort Kochi, another colonial era seaport, where we encountered traditional theater, “Chinese” fishing nets, and a motorcycle tour of Kochi’s Muslim, Hindu, and Christian neighborhoods.

On this journey we learned that things are more laid back in the south. Here, Hindu, Muslim, and Christian populations coexist in harmony. The tensions of religion and caste that were so dominant in the north are much less prevalent here. With a population as varied as the terrain, the south is less concerned with rules. Contrasts of wealth and poverty are similar, but overall this region seems relatively prosperous and south India, like Sri Lanka, continues to develop.

Long Time, No Sleep

This day began very early, in fact, a bit before midnight. Our bus departed for the airport at 12:30 a.m. On the way, somebody said, “My god, there’s an elephant in front of us!” Sure enough, there was a truck going down the road with an adult male elephant standing in the back, just riding down the road. Only in India.

Our flight departed just before 4 a.m. and we arrived in Dubai for a two hour layover, followed by the 15 hour flight to Chicago. Unfortunately, there was little sleep on the long flight. We expected to see snow in Chicago, but it was 55 degrees with rain there -- hardly winter at all.

Having only two hours between flights in Chicago was a concern, but the electronic passport readers really speed up that system so we got through immigration and customs very quickly. As it happened, we could have taken our time, because our flight to Minneapolis was delayed, first for 90 minutes, but then by nearly 2 hours. So a two hour layover became four hours.

Staying awake became difficult in Chicago. We had been traveling for well over 30 hours by then, and I had accumulated less than 4 hours of sleep over the previous 40 hours. Eyes would no longer focus on the book for reading.

Fortunately, Katherine was quick to pick us up, and the house was in good order upon our return.

Easy Riders

After breakfast we were issued hair nets and motorcycle helmets. Apparently, the hair net was to make us feel more comfortable putting on a helmet that had been worn by others — or perhaps it was to keep our heads from soiling the helmets for others. In any case, we were helmeted.

Each one of us was then matched with a driver and a motorcycle. My driver was a guy named Ashley (yes), who was the organizer of the group of cyclists. As leader, his bike was first in the caravan as we set out from the hotel.

We rode primarily on back streets, and since several of the older women in the group had never been on a motorcycle before, our speed was under 30 km/h (less than 25 mph) on the entire excursion. Born to be wild, this was not.

First destination was a market in the Muslim quarter where, at this morning hour, animals were being butchered to provide fresh meat for the day. One goat was still on the hoof, another still had blood dripping from the carcass as the head lay on the ground nearby. A buffalo was being carved up around the corner, and a number of chickens had already been plucked. Photos were not permitted here, as the slaughter of animals is a sensitive issue among the vegetarian Hindu neighbors.

We remounted the bikes and continued into a Hindu neighborhood where there was a temple dedicated to salt. Worshipers brought salt from the sea to offer to the gods, and a mound of salt more than four feet high and nearly seven feet in diameter was the central focus.

About twice a month the mound is removed and they start over. We were told that the salt is sold to “a dealer” for “processing.” Since goats, dogs, and sacred cows had lifted legs on the base of the mound, thus causing some of the salt near the bottom to be quite yellow in color, we hoped that the processing did not involve making table salt. But since there is little use for road salt here, we were suspicious.

We stopped for coffee or tea at a small cafe so that we could interact with our drivers. My driver spoke English pretty well. Some of the others had more difficulty. All of them are university students or work at other jobs. They only carry tourists on their bikes once a week or so for extra cash. Almost all are unmarried and still live at home with their parents.

Young men seldom move away from home here. If they get married, the wife simply moves into the house with her new husband and his parents. We were assured that religion doesn’t matter here — some of the bike drivers were Christian, others Muslim, and still others Hindu. But all said they would certainly have to marry a girl of their same faith, so apparently religion does matter in some areas of life.

Finally, we visited a commercial laundry where many hotels and guest houses send the clothing of their guests. The washing is done by hand, with men beating the clothes on concrete slabs. Drying is on a line in the open air.

Each clothesline is two strands of rope twisted together, so no clothespins are necessary. They simply push the corners of each item between the rope strands to hold the clothes in place.

Ironing is done by hand with wide irons that weigh about 15 pounds. Workers are paid by the piece, and if the iron is electric, they are charged for the electricity.

We met a 75-year-old woman who still irons a huge pile of clothes each day. She insists on using the old-fashioned iron, heated with burning coconut husks, because it saves on electricity.

After our ride, we were dropped back at the hotel for an opportunity to freshen up, the set out on a walk. We went to the sea, where we saw dolphins sounding in the bay. We watched men working “Chinese Nets” along the shore.

These are large lever rigs that lower large nets into shallow water, and then pull them again. We even got to try our hand at one. The catch is small, but at least a half dozen rigs are in operation.

We walked inland a block or two to St. Francis Church. Built by the Portuguese in the 16th century, the grave of great explorer Vasco de Gama is in the floor (at least the stone is there, although Vasco’s remains were later removed and taken back to Portugal).

When the Dutch drove the Portuguese out, the church was expanded and renovated to remove Catholic trappings and it became home to a Reformed congregation. So Dutch Protestants are buried here alongside Portuguese Catholics. Finally, when the British drove out the Dutch, the building became an Anglican church and was renovated once again.

A feature the British added were ceiling fans, operated by ropes and pulleys that were pulled by Hindu and Muslim laborers outside the church wall during services. “Slave Fans” is what one member of our group called them. They remain only for show, with electric ceiling fans taking over their function. The church now belongs to a Protestant congregation of the Church of South India (CSI).

We ate a very nice lunch, again with some spicy options available for those of us who wished to have them. Then the afternoon was free until our final group meeting at 4:15. This was a review and feedback opportunity with the tour leader. It was followed by a traditional clothing experience, which we skipped.

In the evening our group enjoyed our final activity together: a sunset cruise in and around the harbor in Kochi. The sun setting behind the Chinese Nets is an iconic photo opportunity. Unfortunately, there are so many tour boats jockeying for position to get the right photo at the right moment means that it is difficult to get the shot without another boat in it.

The boat ride was followed by goodbyes to the few group members not flying out with us in the morning.

Fort Kochi

On this, the last leg of the journey, we drove for only just a bit more than two hours to the west coastal city of Kochi (sometimes Cochin). The day began with breakfast on our own boat, and a short cruise to meet bus.

On the way, we stopped along the waterway one last time at one of the oldest Catholic congregations in the area, where mass was in progress in a packed church. Although the building is fairly new, a congregation was worshiping in this place long before the time of the Portuguese. Some claim the community dates from the 8th century CE.

Another Catholic church is almost directly across the river, because there are enough people for a full congregation on each side.

The bus had not gone far when we came by a rice field that had just been drained in preparation for planting. The field was covered with hundreds of white egrets, as well as some other bird, feasting on small fish, worms, and insects left exposed in the mud.

It seemed that we were never out of urban area all the way to Kochi. The road was lined with stores and restaurants, specialty shops and car dealers (one was named “Johns Honda” — a long-lost relative?).

We entered the city proper by crossing the very long river bridge, revealing that while the old city — Portuguese Fort Kochi — was built on the mainland, the city today has expanded over many nearby islands, as well as a large mainland area.

Because we arrived too early to check into the hotel, we set out immediately on a walking tour of old Fort Kochi. We saw the restored jail, next to the current police station, where suspected independence revolutionaries were held by the British. Also in the neighborhood is St. Francis Church, another Catholic congregation dating back to the 16th century CE.

After walking past some of the nearby shops and restaurants, we met our bus for a short drive to “The Dutch Palace” of Kochi. This was the home of local royalty, but it was built in the 18th century, copying the Dutch style. It is most famous for murals on the wall depicting a major Hindu saga. Unfortunately, photos were not allowed.

Just around the corner from the palace is the old Jewish quarter (still called, unapologetically, “Jewtown” — a name that would never apply in the West. Once a thriving community, there are now so few Jews left that there is no long a minion, unless the balance can be made up by tourists.

From here on we had the day to ourselves until 4:30 (nap time for most), In late afternoon we gathered just a short block down the street from the hotel to view yet another dance performance. This one was quite unique, however. We arrived early, as the makeup artist was still working on preparing the performers. Both performers were male, but one was in drag. The male male was made up in green.

It was probably more of an opera than a dance, although the singing was done by one of the musicians, rather than by the on-stage performers. The vocal was a narrative of part of a famous story about god Rama engaged in a battle with demons, assisted by the monkey god, to rescue the wife of a king who had been kidnapped and taken to Sri Lanka.

The story is an epic, and required three nights of multi-hour performances to perform in entirety. I had trouble staying awake for a half hour, although the costumes and makeup were pretty amazing.

After this, Mary and I walked along the beach for a bit. It was primarily people watching, as the entire area was packed with people of all sorts on their Sunday evening outing. No one was swimming, though a few waded into the water up to their knees, but the beach was teaming with people.

We returned to the hotel to get ready for the “Farewell Dinner,” which is being held a day early due to flight schedules. Our tour leader had some food prepared with more spices to satisfy the few of us who were complaining about how bland the meals had become. We noticed that he, too, sat at the spicy end of the table.