Saturday, June 7, 08
With a Poori, puffy donut without the hole, and dips, Milan and I head out for more sight seeing. These include Suicide Point, where again we have a long view of the valley with its towns, agricultural plots, peaks, sholas (forests), lake, clouds and mist, and red dirt clearings. On to Pillar Rocks with a garden of the largest hydrangeas I've ever seen, poppys, chrysanthemums, and others. On to another view of the valley and we are ready for lunch.
Again at the Punjabi restaurant, we have fish and black pepper curry with rice and nan. Milan returns to the room for a nap, it is 3:00. I need to get more exercise. Eat, chai, eat, chai, eat, chai, that has been the theme of the past days.
Walking past the Tibetan stalls which are stretched along the end of one of the four fingers of the lake, I raise my umbrella against the rain. Anticipating the rain, I sport my blue wind breaker, hat (always my hat, which a monkey was seriously eyeing 2 days ago) and my umbrella, which was purchased in Bangkok (it hasn't seen much service since arriving in India). As I round the finger's end and pass the boat house where a variety of paddle boats have been rented, it begins to pour. Five young men from Trichy run whooping over to join me under my small umbrella. It's beyond a tight fit. Our heads are dry. The rest of us is not. We share the usual questions - Where are you from? And you? Do you like India?... They peel off one by one till only 2 remain, then one. I point to the standing room only at the boat house tin roof's edge. He pulls himself close with one hand around my waist and one on my left shoulder. Again, with him whooping, we run for the shelter. Having deposited him, we laugh and say our good-byes. Scrambling, as if they aren't already as wet as they ever will be, the boat renters hurry. Women drape edges of sarees over their heads and the men gallantly paddle.
On I walk, finally stopping under a large tree along the hillside edge of the road. Two men have taken shelter under a cement culvert along the roadside. Two others are leaving the tree, where they have sought shelter, and come to stand with me, again, under my small umbrella. When the two culvert men see this, they come to join us - 5 of us. We laugh, and again share our stories, and they leave. They are from Chennai. Now alone, I cross to the lake side walkway just in time to receive a splash up to my knees from a passing car. Well, I was that wet already.
Continuing on, past two cows, lotus, groups of young men and women bicycling with the usual laughs, heads into the wind and rain and fun written all over their wet outfits. Excitement is contagious.
I press on past the 2nd, 3rd and finally round the 4th, the bridge, and take the bottom road back to the Kodaikanal Boat Club canteen where I have two small cups of coffee - no milk, no sugar - surrounded by talkative youths. Someone says the lake walk is 5 km, not to be believed. It can't be over 3.
It's still raining. It's only the degree which varies. Rain brings out an energy and vitality which is softened in the sunny, calmness of the usual. It's that which catches us unawares which brings with it an opportunity. I now have a new relationship with 9 young men and 2 cows.
Kodaikanal pics: http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/musungi/KodaikanalIndia
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Friday, June 6, 2008
Lake Kodai
Friday, June 6, 08
Breakfast is at a vegetarian restaurant - vadai, idli, and coffee. One thing my system is not used to, all the sugar. There is sugar is everything, and lots in the chai and coffee. I love a lemon soda. But, again, sugar.
Milan and I decide that today is a do nothing day. We walk to the lake and bargain with a man in a row boat. How much? He quotes us rs 100 for 30 minutes. Milan gets him to agree to the same amount for one hour. The agreement made, Milan and I step into the row boat. Then begins the moaning. The boatman is angry with us for having bargained him down and says he should be charging over twice the amount. Then, he exits the boat, says he has other things to do, and leaves us in the charge of a 15 year old boy who struggles with the oars. So it goes! Lotus, the mist on the lake, families together in paddle boats fills our hour. At the bank, the boatman holds the boat as we step ashore. Milan hands him the agreed on amount as the boatman asks where the money is for the boy. Milan responds that the rs 100 belongs to him. The boat leaves with an angry, still angry, boatman. Later, as we walk to the Kodai Boat Club canteen, I hand the boy rs 10 without the old man seeing.
Staying at the canteen till 12:30, we lake and people watch - lemon tea. Flies are everywhere.
Lunch is again at the Punjabi restaurant - black pepper chicken and garlic chicken curry, rice, and nan.
The afternoon, I walk to the Kodai International School and ask for a tour. Hurried to the Admissions Office, I find it occupied by one woman who says there isn't anyone to help me. Then, she calls the watchman and asks him to fill in. He does. It turns out that he knew my cousin Paul who worked at the school during the early 70s. What a stroke of luck. Instead of a hurry through, he takes me around, as the rain chases us between buildings and walkways, and shows all I want to see. Unfortunately, my camera batteries run out toward the end. But, it is grand to have found such a knowledgeable guide. The rain has stopped and the sky has cleared. Coolness is in the air. Pictures tomorrow
Breakfast is at a vegetarian restaurant - vadai, idli, and coffee. One thing my system is not used to, all the sugar. There is sugar is everything, and lots in the chai and coffee. I love a lemon soda. But, again, sugar.
Milan and I decide that today is a do nothing day. We walk to the lake and bargain with a man in a row boat. How much? He quotes us rs 100 for 30 minutes. Milan gets him to agree to the same amount for one hour. The agreement made, Milan and I step into the row boat. Then begins the moaning. The boatman is angry with us for having bargained him down and says he should be charging over twice the amount. Then, he exits the boat, says he has other things to do, and leaves us in the charge of a 15 year old boy who struggles with the oars. So it goes! Lotus, the mist on the lake, families together in paddle boats fills our hour. At the bank, the boatman holds the boat as we step ashore. Milan hands him the agreed on amount as the boatman asks where the money is for the boy. Milan responds that the rs 100 belongs to him. The boat leaves with an angry, still angry, boatman. Later, as we walk to the Kodai Boat Club canteen, I hand the boy rs 10 without the old man seeing.
Staying at the canteen till 12:30, we lake and people watch - lemon tea. Flies are everywhere.
Lunch is again at the Punjabi restaurant - black pepper chicken and garlic chicken curry, rice, and nan.
The afternoon, I walk to the Kodai International School and ask for a tour. Hurried to the Admissions Office, I find it occupied by one woman who says there isn't anyone to help me. Then, she calls the watchman and asks him to fill in. He does. It turns out that he knew my cousin Paul who worked at the school during the early 70s. What a stroke of luck. Instead of a hurry through, he takes me around, as the rain chases us between buildings and walkways, and shows all I want to see. Unfortunately, my camera batteries run out toward the end. But, it is grand to have found such a knowledgeable guide. The rain has stopped and the sky has cleared. Coolness is in the air. Pictures tomorrow
Kodaikanal, India
Thursda
y, June 5, 08
Sleeping in till 7:15, it feels so good to pull covers up and scrunch to the bottom of the bed, what decadence, we decide to see some of the waterfalls around Kodai. Finding our way to Bear Shola Falls, we are enjoying the eucalyptus forests and water cascading off the large rock and through fissures. Hydrangeas and butterflies cover large areas as we return and are off to the next, Fairy Falls, which is on the grounds of a Horticultural Research Center. Lastly, Vattakanal Falls, which splash into a pool where lovers are having their pictures taken. Some one says, Dolphin's
Nose is near and a fine sight. This is apparently a rock formation. How far? 2 km one way from Vattakanal Falls. What isn't said is that the path is mostly very steep over roots of gigantic eucalyptus trees and stones. After 1 1/2 km, we arrive at a lookout which shows the valley extending out to Pondy, too far to see, and the Bay.
A spectacular view, sitting in a small spot where chai and coffee can be had. We indulge and spend more time than needed, could either be our hesitation of climbing the steep return, or is it the vista holding us? We decide not to go the additional 1/2 km to the rock formation. Returning up the steep climb we return to Kodai for lunch at a Punjabi restaurant on the second floor (Indian 1st floor) looking over a small valley. Later, a walk at the lake and some soup for dinner. This spot of beauty may take several days to absorb. We have the time. The only drawback, again said, is the noise which seems to accompany India.
y, June 5, 08Sleeping in till 7:15, it feels so good to pull covers up and scrunch to the bottom of the bed, what decadence, we decide to see some of the waterfalls around Kodai. Finding our way to Bear Shola Falls, we are enjoying the eucalyptus forests and water cascading off the large rock and through fissures. Hydrangeas and butterflies cover large areas as we return and are off to the next, Fairy Falls, which is on the grounds of a Horticultural Research Center. Lastly, Vattakanal Falls, which splash into a pool where lovers are having their pictures taken. Some one says, Dolphin's
Nose is near and a fine sight. This is apparently a rock formation. How far? 2 km one way from Vattakanal Falls. What isn't said is that the path is mostly very steep over roots of gigantic eucalyptus trees and stones. After 1 1/2 km, we arrive at a lookout which shows the valley extending out to Pondy, too far to see, and the Bay.
A spectacular view, sitting in a small spot where chai and coffee can be had. We indulge and spend more time than needed, could either be our hesitation of climbing the steep return, or is it the vista holding us? We decide not to go the additional 1/2 km to the rock formation. Returning up the steep climb we return to Kodai for lunch at a Punjabi restaurant on the second floor (Indian 1st floor) looking over a small valley. Later, a walk at the lake and some soup for dinner. This spot of beauty may take several days to absorb. We have the time. The only drawback, again said, is the noise which seems to accompany India.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Pondicherry to Kodaikanal
Wednesday, May 4, 08
A choir of birds sends me out the door. What a harmony. I have found that the birds which have been singing the loudest are mynah birds.
Milan and driver, we have hired a taxi, pick me up at 7:00, and we are off. Well, first comes gas and a few other details. Off is really 7:20.
Stopping for breakfast in Villappurum, we have a dosai and itly. The first is a pancake with onion and curry. The second is a circular pressed rice patty. These are accompanied by coconut, corriander, sambar, and something else. I would tell you what sambar is, but I don't know!
The going is slow. There is continual road work for 250 km. Trichy, who's real name is Tiruchchirappalli, see why it's called Tricky, on to Dindigul, and a start into the Western Ghats (hills). Driving through hill market towns, we arrive, 5:00, in Kodaikanal.
This hill town is a bustling, noisy vacation spot, cool, having rained earlier, and gives me the feeling of Tanah Rata in the Malaysian Cameron Highlands - On the way we have passed tea plantations.
Our reservation, we booked since rooms are at a premium, is at the Snooze Inn. Glimpses of British architecture is everywhere in the lake area. Kodaikanal International School, which my cousins attended in the early 50s, so long ago, faces the lake and is a grand series of stone and rock buildings. I'll make a visit into that site in the next few days. Kodaikanal, or Kodai, Lake is a finger lake which shimmers in the drizzling rain as Milan and I drink chai at the Kodai Boat Club. Two elderly locals are rowed across the lake, it's too long a walk, as the oars dip into the mist. Walking around the lake edge and up to have dinner, soup and vegetable curry/rice, the air has cooled to such a degree that we need jackets. What a contrast to Pondy!
A choir of birds sends me out the door. What a harmony. I have found that the birds which have been singing the loudest are mynah birds.
Milan and driver, we have hired a taxi, pick me up at 7:00, and we are off. Well, first comes gas and a few other details. Off is really 7:20.
Stopping for breakfast in Villappurum, we have a dosai and itly. The first is a pancake with onion and curry. The second is a circular pressed rice patty. These are accompanied by coconut, corriander, sambar, and something else. I would tell you what sambar is, but I don't know!
The going is slow. There is continual road work for 250 km. Trichy, who's real name is Tiruchchirappalli, see why it's called Tricky, on to Dindigul, and a start into the Western Ghats (hills). Driving through hill market towns, we arrive, 5:00, in Kodaikanal.
This hill town is a bustling, noisy vacation spot, cool, having rained earlier, and gives me the feeling of Tanah Rata in the Malaysian Cameron Highlands - On the way we have passed tea plantations.
Our reservation, we booked since rooms are at a premium, is at the Snooze Inn. Glimpses of British architecture is everywhere in the lake area. Kodaikanal International School, which my cousins attended in the early 50s, so long ago, faces the lake and is a grand series of stone and rock buildings. I'll make a visit into that site in the next few days. Kodaikanal, or Kodai, Lake is a finger lake which shimmers in the drizzling rain as Milan and I drink chai at the Kodai Boat Club. Two elderly locals are rowed across the lake, it's too long a walk, as the oars dip into the mist. Walking around the lake edge and up to have dinner, soup and vegetable curry/rice, the air has cooled to such a degree that we need jackets. What a contrast to Pondy!
Rs 10
Tuesday, June 3, 08
Walking toward the waterfront, it's that time of day again, 6:30 PM, the light is thinning. At the park a conveniently wide two lane street, the sidewalks are not for pedestrians, guides me along the west side. As I approach the SW corner, the street splits, one running ahead to make a square intersection and the other cutting along the park since it is rounded here, I see a woman in her twenties, 2 young children looking on, attempting to keep a camp stove lit. As I slowly pass, the 4 year old girl, with little clothing, stoops watching eagerly her mother's effort. Behind her mother stands little brother, dressed in nature's finest. The mother pumps air into the gas bottle intently working to push the last vapors out the stove. A man from around the corner, these are street, or more correctly, sidewalk dwellers, says something and disappears back to his mat and family. On the cement sits a pot filled with a few vegetables and lots of water - dinner. As I cross the street in front of her, she works the empty bottle as the flame lessens, flickers and dies. Even now, she continues. The little boy stands unconcerned, too young to know. The little girl continues her stooped gaze. Across the street, I stand in the sinking light as the mother's efforts remain known. Reaching into my pocket, I search out Rs 10 and returning across the street, leaning, with my holy hand, extend my offering. As she recognizes what is happening, she takes it, holy to holy, and smiles a "Thank You, Mista" as I point to the empty bottle. Walking the angled street, cut for the rounded park, I want to look back, but don't. Why this time? What touched me, poked me, to respond? Many, everyday, ask for a hand out, and I don't. But this time... Was it the children with dinner waiting uncooked? A mother doing her best, which isn't enough.
We are programmed to return a greeting. Here, it often is to look into palms extended. My usual response to myself is, "Get over it!" Not this time! There is no getting over it. This will not balance the score. But, it balanced something within me!
I searched for my soul
But, my soul I could not see.
I searched for my God
But, my God eluded me.
I searched for my brother
And found all three (Anonymous)
Walking toward the waterfront, it's that time of day again, 6:30 PM, the light is thinning. At the park a conveniently wide two lane street, the sidewalks are not for pedestrians, guides me along the west side. As I approach the SW corner, the street splits, one running ahead to make a square intersection and the other cutting along the park since it is rounded here, I see a woman in her twenties, 2 young children looking on, attempting to keep a camp stove lit. As I slowly pass, the 4 year old girl, with little clothing, stoops watching eagerly her mother's effort. Behind her mother stands little brother, dressed in nature's finest. The mother pumps air into the gas bottle intently working to push the last vapors out the stove. A man from around the corner, these are street, or more correctly, sidewalk dwellers, says something and disappears back to his mat and family. On the cement sits a pot filled with a few vegetables and lots of water - dinner. As I cross the street in front of her, she works the empty bottle as the flame lessens, flickers and dies. Even now, she continues. The little boy stands unconcerned, too young to know. The little girl continues her stooped gaze. Across the street, I stand in the sinking light as the mother's efforts remain known. Reaching into my pocket, I search out Rs 10 and returning across the street, leaning, with my holy hand, extend my offering. As she recognizes what is happening, she takes it, holy to holy, and smiles a "Thank You, Mista" as I point to the empty bottle. Walking the angled street, cut for the rounded park, I want to look back, but don't. Why this time? What touched me, poked me, to respond? Many, everyday, ask for a hand out, and I don't. But this time... Was it the children with dinner waiting uncooked? A mother doing her best, which isn't enough.
We are programmed to return a greeting. Here, it often is to look into palms extended. My usual response to myself is, "Get over it!" Not this time! There is no getting over it. This will not balance the score. But, it balanced something within me!
I searched for my soul
But, my soul I could not see.
I searched for my God
But, my God eluded me.
I searched for my brother
And found all three (Anonymous)
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Floor Lady
Tuesday, June 3, 08 
There are 80 rooms on 4 floors of International Guest House. Each floor has several women who divide up the rooms and cover for each other during their scheduled days off. Besides cleaning my room daily, which also includes disinfecting the tile floors of the room, hallway and stairs, she brings me chai, takes my laundry for washing and ironing and watches out so that my stay is comfortable.
Although chai is available throughout the day, I have two cups each morning as I journal and read the paper at the open courtyard.
There are 80 rooms on 4 floors of International Guest House. Each floor has several women who divide up the rooms and cover for each other during their scheduled days off. Besides cleaning my room daily, which also includes disinfecting the tile floors of the room, hallway and stairs, she brings me chai, takes my laundry for washing and ironing and watches out so that my stay is comfortable.
Although chai is available throughout the day, I have two cups each morning as I journal and read the paper at the open courtyard.
-Her day off is Saturday.
-In addition to being disinfected, the hallway is swept several times daily with a grass broom.
-Only she has access to my room, I lock all valuables in a closet, or carry them on me.
-No visitors are allowed so she keeps a sharp lookout for strangers.
-This is an Ashram GH so there is no smoking or drinking allowed on the premises. It is also her duty to monitor for such activities.
-This is an Ashram GH so there is no smoking or drinking allowed on the premises. It is also her duty to monitor for such activities.
-I'm not sure of her hours, since she's here when I rise and disappears sometime late afternoon. But,her day is long.
When I first arrived, there was a failure to place a light weight blanket on my bed (I did not think anything was amiss, since not having a blanket has happened before). The next morning she found that I had simply spread and used my sarong. I returned from lunch to find 2 blankets on the second bed. There they remained, the sarong continuing to see service for 5 days. Each morning I would fold up the sarong and place it at the end of the bed. This is common in SE Asia. She corrected me by spreading it across the full bed. One morning, I returned to find the blanket opened with a folded lump underneath it, my sarong. The sarong went into the closet. A gentle nudge from the floor lady.
The same happened with an incense burner I had placed on the small table separating the two twin beds. One afternoon, I found it moved to a proper spot, a small triangular slate piece which is near the door and where bottles of water and the key are dropped.
She takes her job seriously, shaping up the guests who need shaping.
When I first arrived, there was a failure to place a light weight blanket on my bed (I did not think anything was amiss, since not having a blanket has happened before). The next morning she found that I had simply spread and used my sarong. I returned from lunch to find 2 blankets on the second bed. There they remained, the sarong continuing to see service for 5 days. Each morning I would fold up the sarong and place it at the end of the bed. This is common in SE Asia. She corrected me by spreading it across the full bed. One morning, I returned to find the blanket opened with a folded lump underneath it, my sarong. The sarong went into the closet. A gentle nudge from the floor lady.
The same happened with an incense burner I had placed on the small table separating the two twin beds. One afternoon, I found it moved to a proper spot, a small triangular slate piece which is near the door and where bottles of water and the key are dropped.
She takes her job seriously, shaping up the guests who need shaping.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Same ole, Same ole
Monday, June 2, 08
How lazy can I get? That appears to be the predominant question for the past several days, possibly longer. Take this morning, for instance. I slept in to 6:45, quickly showered and threw on some clothes, and walked the 2 blocks to the Dining Hall. That done, I stop at the chai maker for a tea and paper, walk up the 3 flights of stairs to my room #71, and pull a chair out to the courtyard, this is an open space in the interior of the building all the way through, top to bottom, a palm tree grows out the top. The floor lady brings me my second dose of chai. I journal and scan the paper. On to my room to listen to music and read till 9:30, I take a cooling shower and walk out along Nehru Street for an hour. Milan and I meet at his desk, where one of his employees brings me a coffee, and we talk. The conversation turns to our upcoming trip into the hills. Tomorrow, we will book a room and Wednesday begin what possibly could be a 10 day vacation into Kodaikanal and beyond. Lunch follows, with me again spending the afternoon resting, reading, and listening to music. At 4:00, I return to see Milan, for 10 minutes at his work, and walk on to Coffee.com, an internet cafe several blocks south.
Every late afternoon and into the evening, I take a several hour walk along the waterfront people watching.
With such limited activity, I have been opting to take dinner in my room, several mangoes and several oranges, valencias from California.
So, that's the day. It's a good change.
How lazy can I get? That appears to be the predominant question for the past several days, possibly longer. Take this morning, for instance. I slept in to 6:45, quickly showered and threw on some clothes, and walked the 2 blocks to the Dining Hall. That done, I stop at the chai maker for a tea and paper, walk up the 3 flights of stairs to my room #71, and pull a chair out to the courtyard, this is an open space in the interior of the building all the way through, top to bottom, a palm tree grows out the top. The floor lady brings me my second dose of chai. I journal and scan the paper. On to my room to listen to music and read till 9:30, I take a cooling shower and walk out along Nehru Street for an hour. Milan and I meet at his desk, where one of his employees brings me a coffee, and we talk. The conversation turns to our upcoming trip into the hills. Tomorrow, we will book a room and Wednesday begin what possibly could be a 10 day vacation into Kodaikanal and beyond. Lunch follows, with me again spending the afternoon resting, reading, and listening to music. At 4:00, I return to see Milan, for 10 minutes at his work, and walk on to Coffee.com, an internet cafe several blocks south.
Every late afternoon and into the evening, I take a several hour walk along the waterfront people watching.
With such limited activity, I have been opting to take dinner in my room, several mangoes and several oranges, valencias from California.
So, that's the day. It's a good change.
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