In which Alison learns of the strange customs of India and the even more exotic Jews: OR "Think of me in thrity years"

This weekend, Kyla, Lisette, Lucy and I boarded a first-class train at 8:30 pm for an 8 hour trip to Kochin. We rode first class because we didnt have another option, by the time we went to get the train tickets that was all that was left. Still, it was rather exciting, our first overnight train (arriving at 3:45am) to someplace that sounded really interesting. The rest of the volunteers would be meeting us at the station in Kochin (since they are all coming from different places.

First class is different from second class (which is what we had generally taken) in a number of different ways. First, there is glass in the windows. The cars are A/c, which means that the girls complained about how cold it was rather than how hot (they also declined to use the still warm sheets that were handed out to us at 9pm...sometimes it's nice to be pampered!) Second, there are only two 'tiers' of bunks (just top and lower, no middle) so each one has more room and you can put all of the bunks out and still sit. This is nice because everyone has a bunk to sit on automatically (though the top buks dont have windows, but at night that matters less). Finally, each compartment of 4 bunks separates off from the main hallway with a curtain, so you can make it pretty dark. All in all, really nice, if pricey. We weren't all i a compartment together (two and two) so Kyla and Lucy (who are thick as theives when together) took one and Lisette and I went into ours. We had a lower and upper reserved, but there were two gentlemen seated on the lower seats, so we climbed u to the top. They started striking up a conversation, and I hopped down to chat a while. They were two IT tech guys from Chenni, on their way to a tiny town for a friends wedding (a love match, they worked with both the bride and groom). The spoke great English, since they spent all night talking to "you people" (a phrase which everyone uses here, but which grates wrong on my nevertheless...it's just so rude sounding), answering IT questions. So if you guys callup IT and talk to "Rich" (Sureash,really) you might be speaking to my new friend. They had a lot of fun teaching me Tamil words, including how to say "Are you fine here, we are having fun in our compartment" and sending me down the train to say it too Lucy and Kyla. They looked at me like I had gone completely mad.

They got off, giving me their e-mail and offering to take me around when I'm in Chenni, and Kyla and Lucy came over to our bunk to sleep. Everything was going great, until some guy down the car fell asleep and stsarted the worst snoring I have ever heard (yes, worse than Dad that night in CT). It was awful, and there was nothing we could doabout it save try to "accidentally"fall on him when we got up to go to the bathroom. I think that the other girls got a little sleep, but I was up until we hit the station. We called Projects Abraod, letting them know that we were at the station, and they responded with a confused "WE'RE at the station...we dont see you". It took a few minutes to figure out that we were at different stations, in the same town, though.They had buses to take us to the hotel, so they came by and picked us up, and we settled in for a 30 minute nap.

Kochin is made up really of three islands, connected by land bridges. Ernakulum, where we came in, is the most modern island. Fort Kochin, where we were staying, is the one with all the history. One of the oldest and biggest spic centers in Kerala, it was a very cosmopolitan city, with a Dutch palace and a large Jewish population. Now, its still a fishing hub and tourist spot, but coast towns are always fun to prowl around in. The organized activity for the day was going to a water park (the biggest in India) but I decided to take a pass (not much into waterparks anyway, and certainly not what I came here to do). There wasnt anyfuss about it really, but maybe they realized you REALLY shouldnt mess with a stubborn 25 year-old on 3 hours of sleep. Anyway, we took the bus for breakfast near the beach in the heart of town, where we got good eggs at my table though some people had to wait quite a while. It was pouring cats and dogs, so people were unenthused about the water park (though most said that they were going just to hang out with the other volunteers...) as I was gettting ready to go, one of the guys walked over to me and asked if I wasn't going either. I said no, and he asked if he and another girl could walk around with me. I almost said no, but I figured that the kind of person who doesn't want to go to a waterpark is a pretty safe bet, and we headed out. His name was Malte, hers Juliana and they were both from Germany. They were really great and down to earth, we basically went to the shore to see the famous Chinese fishing nets and then started walking around the island toward Jew Town (as the old area of town is called). We passed through the spice market, which was full of tiny narrow streets and wholesale dealers in tea, saffron, curry and other spices. Then antiques dealers, Kashmiri silk merchants and other shops started to lnie the streets. We reached the old synagogue, but couldnt go in (closed saturdays) so we wandered toward the Jain temple, through a more lived in part of town. It was here that I started to get so hungry I thought I would faint, so we popped into a local cafe (no a/c, wooden tables and chairs, dark room) I was afraid that my companions would veto this eating option (the only one I could see in the area) but they were game and we got served incredible masala dosas (thin rice pancakes stuffed with veggie curry). When we got up to pay, Malte hit the counter first and the man said 27 rupees. Malte handed it over and then Lilianna went up to pay, while the man looked at her like she had gone mad. "27 rupees...for three". Probably the best value meal I've ever eaten.

The Jain temple was closed between 1:30 and 5:30 (which was probably just as well, as I would have had to decide whether to be honest and stay out as they requested because I was having my period, or figure it was the last day and no one would find out and go in). Malte and Lilianna went off walking some more, while I headed back to Jew Town and did way too much shopping. I remembered the three basic rules of haggling (1. Don't fall in love with something...if you do you're doomed, 2. Only accept the tea if you're really going to buy something, and 3. Only pay what you're happy with, don't worry about whether you're getting ripped off or not (you are)).

After an afternoon of shopping, I walked back considerable more laden down to the main area, and popped into an arts cafefor a snack of grilled cheese and iced tea before going to a Kathakali performance. Kathakali is the traditional dance/theater of Kerala, with elaborate makeup and costumes, and hand guestures that convey all of the dialogue. The story tonight was of a demon who spotted a beautiful young man (son of the god Inra) and fell in love with him, she turned herself into a lovely woman and he fell for her too, but needed to ask his father's permission before they could marry. The demon-girl insisted on marrying him now, and he turned on her and discovered what she really was. He then attacked her (now in demon form) and sent her back to the underworld. There were three dancers (the man, the demon, and the woman form) and of the three the one who played the woman was by far the best. His facial expressions were absolutly unmistakable, you cuold see the love, lust anger and pain at the rejection written right across his features. Unfortunatly, this had the effect of making the play a tragety (because you were rooting for the demon, and not a triumph). Still, it was really interesting, and afterwards I called home then took a ricksaw back to the hotel and went to bed.

The next morning, we got ready to go out on a scenic boatride to some of the site we had passed yesterday. It was a gorgeous day, sunny and warm. We split up for breakfast, and I ended up going alone to a little garden resturant of a hotel with orchids blooming from the trees. After brakfast, our boat stopped in at the Jew Town pier. Today we went into the synagogue, which serves a congragation of 13 people. Guides explained the building, which has tiles imported fromCHinea 100 years ago and 12 lass chandeleries (each different) from Italy. It was so strange to hear the guide talking to rapt audiences about the strange customs of the Jews, how this congragation had no minyan, (since they are orthodox and ladies don't count), or rabbi, how they keep the 'holy book', written on animal skin, behind a curtain and have no images of God anywhere. The Hindu vistors were intrigued. Fair play, I guess for constantly asking questions when the doctor takes us into temples.

After that, we got back on the boat and went around the harbor, then stopped at a restaruant with just a few of us for lunch. I had fish masala, and it was amazing. Probably the best fish I've ever had. After lunch, Kyla, Lizette and I had to get ready to go, we were not going back to the hospital but stopping in Trivandrum to go to an Aruvedic clinic (Indian traditional medicine). We took a ferry to Ernakulum (my suggestion, met with some skeptisim, but with worked out much fast and cheeper than taking a rickshaw all the way) and took a train to Trivandrum. We left about 5:15, and arrived about 10:10 (we took the local). We met Ballah (one of the coordinators) at the station. Ballah is one of my favorites, he played the word games wiht us in the car, and seems to understand the US/Canadian sense of humor. He also lets us question him merclessly about his forthcoming arranged marriage. His parents have the photos of 5 girls, and are trying to narrow it down before presenting him with a choice of two. He's confident that this will all work out well. I'm not sure what I think. It's not something I would want, but given how little men and woman get to see each other here, and how important family is, I would imagine that trusting your parents to find someone good for you isnt' the worst idea ever. And they have to like her, her parents have to like you, and then you have to like eachother (at least at first meeting), which is a lot of layors of scuteny for someone to go through. And Ballah is such a great guy, really sweet and flexible, happy to let his wife work or stay home, whichever she wants, that I'm sure him parents will fine someone good for him. I wish it would be while I'm here, but its at least a year away. I'm seriously concidering crashig the next wedding I see...given how we are treated like celebraties just walking down the street, I'm sure no one would mind.

Anyway. We arrived at the clinic late, went to sleep, and were awoken with tea in bed at 7:30. I loved this place already. After idlie for reakfast, we went to a class room where they talked to us about Ayuveda. I can't go into all of this now (this is already a RIDICULOUSLY long post) but basically you are made of homurs, and when they get out of wack you need herbs, oils and other treatments to makeoyu better. Some of the tretments sounded pretty out there (having medicated oil poured into a cone on your shaved head, having buttermilk poured all over you), while others were easier to understand (herbal nasal sprays of colds, sleeping over herbal humid smoke for breathing problems). There are different types of people (basically water, fire, and earth; determined by questions about your health and habits) and they are prone to different diseases. Tessa, the skinniest of us all, was told to watch out for obisity in later life, which seemed pretty funny. Just like allsystems that catagorize people, it had it's flaws, but it was neat that tretment varried according to their consitution. They offered us massages (something that you're supposed to do regulalarly to maintain health), but I was the only one who took them up on it.

I went into a room with a long wooden table, shaped like a person. Two women were there, warming oil over a little stove, and they had me undress and tied a tiny cloth aroud my waist. They then had me lie down on the table, and massaged me with the warmed oil (sandlewood, good for your beauty). It was awesome. They went really genetly on my feet and head (two of other most improtatnt places in Ayruvedic anatomy) but otherwise were firm and made all the aches from hours of train travel go away. After about 30 miuntes of massage in different positions, they went to the door or the room and looked out through the tiny crack, then covered me up with a towel. "Gents!" they said (no ony ever says men or women here, only gents and ladies). I was a little nervous that them ment gents were going to come into the room...but no one did and after a few minutes, when the class that was being held in the other room moved on ,theytook off the toweland kept going. They massaged oilinto my scalp and then put medicinal powder on the top of my head, a prime place to absorb things. After a few more minutes, we headed into the other room where a tub or warm water was waiting for me, and I was washed off all over (including my hair, the powder was reapplied after). It felt SO nice to be really clean, and my skin was so soft after. The next day was moreclasses, and a video on treatments, and then we took another train back to the hospital and "home". It was funny, but when we arrived in our restaurant, it really did feel like coming home. The waiters were very glad to see us, since poor John (the new guy) had been sick and hadn't visted them since we left. Poor kid.