Today's 'photos' are movies of the sound of insects on the track from Nedumkandam to Nikunjam. One is interrupted by the sound of a passing auto-rickshaw.
OK, this morning I took a bus to Kattappana*, the nearest town big enough to have a worthwhile travel agent so I can book my travel to Sumatra next month. I'm a bit doubtful as to whether I can afford it and spend time in Assam this month. Ajeesh has said I can stay as long as I want in his family's house but given their situation, that's too much like free-loading for even my conscience.
*It's about an hour from Nedumkandam by bus, along well-surfaced but horribly twisty and undulating mountain roads that had a woman in the seat in front of me review her breakfast. Thank goodness the bloke next to me noticed in time and shut the window. Uurrgghh!
On the way back from town, Ajeesh and I stopped at a small stall so he could buy some paan. His car stereo came to a fairly fast bolly-techno track and so we danced in the road, much to the amusement of the folk at the stall. (These included Ajeesh's father and neighbour.) Ajeesh passed around my hat and we netted a whopping 50 paise (half a rupee)!
Before this, yesterday was Shaji's pay-day so he took Ajeesh, DS and I to a small restaurant for dosas. At the restaurant, Ajeesh picked up a newspaper, saying "aha, today's newspaper". Shaji quipped "naw mate: it's tomorrow's". DS and I fell about laughing while Ajeesh looked faintly boggled.
In the interests of fairness, I have to report I saw a man doing some domestic work yesterday evening: Ajeesh's father was cutting shapes out of cake-dough. I don't know who made the dough or then cooked the cakes (they're fried in coconut oil, rather than baked, and bloody delicious) but I do know that Jaya made breakfast and served Ajeesh and I this morning.
There was a fairly unpleasant moment this morning: the gas-bottle ran out and Ajeesh's mum asked him to buy a new one. This is understandable - their cooker is a gas double-burner. They have built-in wood-fired stoves but are socially not 'allowed' to use them because the house isn't yet finished. (They need glass in the windows, not torn plastic sheeting and to fix the roof as a very minimum. After that, the packed-earth floor would need to be surfaced, then I think they'd want doors in the internal door-ways.)
Ajeesh screamed: today he's due to see his bank manager about getting a loan for Jaya's dowry. I don't care if I'm repeating myself when I say it's 2 lakhs (around £2500) and that it needs to reach Jaya's fiancé's family by the 16th August. This will enable the family to build a house for the couple: they're due to marry on 31st August. (Apparently this is an astrologically opportune date.) Ajeesh tells me that Rajesh, the fiancé, wouldn't mind if the dowry didn't materialise: he loves Jaya and wants to marry her, not her bank-balance. However, Rajesh's family does want the dowry, ostensibly for the house I've just mentioned.
So Ajeesh is going to try to get a loan from his bank. The interest-rate is likely to be between 6 and 11%. I'm not asking any reader to lend an unknown bloke a large lump of cash purely on my recommendation, even secured against Ajeesh's family's house. However if anyone can come up with any bright ideas for a lower-cost loan, please, please contact me privately or comment here.
(I should add that within moments Ajeesh, Jaya, his mother and I were back to their normal, jokey selves. One of the things I respect about the Kerala I've seen is the jokey, happy nature of people, even in extreme conditions.)
Personal hygiene may be important to you. If so, read on...
Always, always, always take your own toilet-paper and torch with you in India. You are very likely to need to use a shopping-mall toilet and these are bound to have no paper and no lights.
Remember your house of easement will have a ceramic hole in the ground, not a pedestal.
If you're very lucky, there will be a flush mechanism.
If you're merely lucky, there will be a bucket and tap so you can flush it manually.
Usually there will be neither manual or mechanical flush options.
Then again, maybe you don't want to see where you're going. It will almost certainly be bad enough that you can smell it.
Of course, if you're in a mountainous part of Kerala, you'll have your torch with you anyway for picking your way along the tracks after dark.
Indian english for 'toilet' is 'bathroom'. I defy anyone to get a real bath in India. Usually you will wash by pouring water from a bucket over yourself with a tin or plastic mug. If you're staying in a home*, your hosts may well heat your bucket of water for you.
*If you are staying in a home, my limited experience suggests you will be treated like a god and have a fantastic time.
In hotels there are also showers as westerners know them, in the same room as the toilet [so wetting the seat is a real possibility]. I've only met two that give hot water but usually I've been glad of the cold.
On the whole, I'm enjoying these challenges. My major publishable, personal regret is not having learnt any Malayalam, Hindi or Tamil before coming here. Occasional withdrawal from soap-related activities is nothing compared to being in dire need of a bathroom and being unable to ask where to find one.
It took the travel agent 3 hours (while I was writing the above drivel) to come to the incorrect conclusion that there are no international airports in Sumatra and, er, not come up with any alternatives.
He didn't want to believe me when I showed him documentary evidence that there are four international airports there (Batam, Pekanbaru, Medan and Padan). Even if there weren't, he should have been able to see that Singapore and Kuala Lumpur are very near. (You can get by boat from Singapore to Pekanbaru in a couple of hours!)
So now I've spelt out the options for him and told him it's his job to find prices and availability for all of them (not just the one I prefer), I'm to come back tomorrow. I think I'll be better off going to Madurai or even back to Goa and finding a Thomas Cook.
Gaah!
Having moaned about the travel agent (and there's more moaning to come), it's pleasing to report two good things:
© (except the blatantly ripped-off bits) Random Bozo 2006