I took the bus to Cochin, now officially known as Kochi, from Thrissur on the morning of the 13th. My bus left about 10 for the 50 mile, two and a half hour trip through heavy traffic. Cochin has about 1.4 million people and now combines the former distinct cities of Cochin at the tip of an approximately 30 mile long peninsula running north along the coast and Ernakulam, east across the large Vembanad Lake from Cochin. Geographically, it is a little like San Francisco, with Cochin as San Francisco and Ernakulam as Oakland, or rather as the whole littoral of Contra Costa and Alameda counties. There even is an artificial island in the lake, Willingdon Island, much larger than San Francisco Bay's Treasure Island.
The bus station is in Ernakulam. I took an auto rickshaw to the main jetty and from there one of the frequent ferries across the lake to Cochin, or Fort Cochin as it is called. The little wooden ferry headed west across the lake, which I think perhaps must in fact be an estuary, as it has a not quite Golden Gate outlet to the Arabian Sea between Fort Cochin and Vypeen Island just to the north of Fort Cochin. Cochin's port was dredged and modernized in the 1930's, creating a large island, Willingdon Island, named after a Viceroy, I think. The port facilities are now quite extensive. We passed several huge cranes and several large ships coming or going. The ferry took only about 15 minutes, skirting the northern end of Willingdon Island, to reach the jetty on the northeast shore of Fort Cochin. From there I had about a 15 minute walk, passing lots of old colonial buildings, to the center of the old town of Cochin, where I checked into a small hotel. I had passed a restaurant advertising spinach cheese quiche and banana cream pie ( a sure sign that a place attracts lots of western tourists) on the way, so after checking in I headed there and had spinach quiche and banana cream pie. Neither was all that good, but a welcome change from Indian food.
Cochin first gained prominence after a great flood in 1341 created an outlet to the sea from Vembanad Lake just north of Cochin, which also led to the silting up of the previous outlet about 30 miles north, which had been the site of Muziris, the great port on India's Malabar coast since Roman times and before. In 1405 the royal family moved south to Cochin, which was already a major port trading with Arabs, Chinese, and others. The Portuguese arrived in 1500 under Cabral, who had discovered Brazil on the way. Da Gama had first arrived further north two years earlier, near Calicut, but hadn't gotten along with the ruler of Calicut, the Zamorin. The Raja of Cochin and the Zamorin of Calicut were rivals, and the Raja of Calicut welcomed the Portuguese and gave them leave to build a fort at Cochin, which they did. They soon controlled the coast, and did so until supplanted by the Dutch in 1663. The British in turn supplanted the Dutch in 1795.
After my late lunch I walked around the old town, first to the big fishing nets along the north shore, facing the busy outlet to the sea. Cochin is famous for these big fishing nets, made of teak timbers, though many now have replaced some of the teak beams with much less appealing metal ones. About ten nets stand along the sandy shore, with the nets themselves having a diameter of perhaps 60 feet, hung from the teak timbers lashed together that must stand 30 or 40 feet high. The big contraptions are operated by four to six men, who pull ropes to start lifting the net out of the sea, aided by huge rocks, one or two feet in diameter, suspended by ropes. It is quite an ingenious and interesting operation. About ten other nets stand across the water, on the southern shore of Vypeen Island. I've read these nets are costly to maintain, and are dying out. The last ones are the 20 or so in Cochin and across the way on Vypeen Island. The idea came from China, apparently from Chinese traders some time between 1350 and 1450. I've also read that they were reintroduced by the Portuguese who learned about them in Macau, after Arabs had driven out the Chinese (and apparently their nets) before the Portuguese arrived. It is fascinating to watch the nets being operated. They weren't scooping up much fish that afternoon, though. Only two or three were in operation.
I spent a couple of hours walking around the old town, with many old colonial buildings. I've read that local laws prohibit the building of new buildings in an effort to preserve the colonial character of Fort Cochin. I passed lots of these old buildings, some in good shape and others not, plus a couple of churches, a Dutch cemetery, remnants of the old fort walls, and a former parade ground filled in the late afternoon with cricket and soccer players. I watched the sunset from the very dirty beach near the westernmost of the giant fishing nets.
The next morning before a late breakfast I spent about three hours looking around the old city. I started again at the fishing nets and the very busy morning outdoor fish market alongside. Fish were brought in by fishermen coming ashore in hand paddled canoes and then plopped or dumped by the bucket full onto dirty sacks lying on the ground. A guy then quickly auctioned off each lot, taking a fish or two from each pile as his share. It was all very interesting to watch. I noticed cats also found it interesting to watch. They were very well behaved, that is, restrained. I walked through the streets again, too, stopping to enter some of the big old houses now serving as hotels. Huge trees, full of green leaves but their limbs covered with dead epiphytes now in the dry season, are all over town. The parade ground was again filled with cricket and soccer players. Next to the parade ground is St. Francis Church, originally built by the Portuguese in 1503 as a Catholic church, though rebuilt in the mid 1500's. It became a Dutch Reformed church after the Dutch takeover in 1663, was renovated again in the 18th century, and became an Anglican church after the British takeover. It now belongs to the Church of South India. Inside, now lining the walls after renovation, are old Portuguese and Dutch tombstones. On the floor is the former tombstone of Vasco da Gama, who was buried here after his death in 1524. His body was returned to Portugal in 1538, where it now reposes in an elaborate tomb.
I ate breakfast where I had eaten lunch the day before, a very nice and comfortable place where I had a delicious cheese and tomato omelet accompanied by thick brown bread with butter and masala tea. In fact, I ate breakfast there every morning I was in Cochin, and almost invariably had the same breakfast, which I would eat while reading one of the newspapers provided for customers.
After breakfast I walked to the Indo-Portuguese Museum near the Bishop's Palace, with an only mildly interesting collection of church antiquities. It was hot and humid and I spent the early part of the afternoon in an internet cafe.
At 4 I went to see a martial arts demonstration. Kalarippayat is an ancient Keralan martial art, dating back to the 12th century. Two remarkable fit young men demonstrated it on a stage for about an hour and it was very interesting. It was much like gymnastics, with jumps and flips. They demonstrated holds and attacks, and then fought each other with hands, then sticks, then knives, then swords, and finally with one guy wielding a metal double whip. Sparks flew as they leaped at each other in mid air, their swords clashing. It was all very impressive and in fact a little scary at times.
Afterwards I watched a Kathakali performance on the same stage. Kathakali originated in the 17th century and is a Keralan dramatic art form, with the actors, accompanied by a singer and drummers, not reciting lines but communicating with gestures, eye movements, and mudras (hand gestures). The performance started at 6:30, but we got to watch the three actors put on their elaborate make-up starting at 5. They came out soon after 5 and I had a front row seat. They sat holding little mirrors, with little paint pots in front of them, and used their fingers and tiny brushes to apply bright green, red, yellow, white and black make-up in gaudy designs all over their faces. It was very interesting to watch. The hero, once he had done his preliminary make-up, laid on his back while a make-up expert worked on him for maybe an hour, applying more make-up and gluing to his chin and cheeks strips of white paper that he had first cut with scissors. This beard like white paper, I was later told, dates from the days before electrical lighting and helped to illuminate the face of the hero by reflection of the surrounding oil lamps.
Kathakali performances typically occur at temple festivities and last all night, from six to nine hours. We saw only an excerpt of about an hour to an hour and a half. The actors wear not only gaudy make-up but extremely elaborate costumes, with hooped skirts, lots of jewelry, and elaborate headdresses. Also, they rub a certain kind of seed and then put it into their eyes just before the performance starts, keeping it there till the end. This makes their eyes red, that is, bloodshot. Before the play excerpt started, one of the actors came out, sat down, and to excellent descriptive commentary, demonstrated amazing eye movements, to the timing of the beating of drums, a two side drum beaten by fingers and a one sided drum beaten by drumsticks. He also demonstrated the 24 mudras and acted out the nine basic emotions (love, anger, fear, wonder, repulsion, bravery, disdain, sorrow, and quiet). He also demonstrated certain commands and requests, all very interesting. At first I found his wonderful eyebrow movements reminiscent at first of Sam Ervin, and later John Belushi. In fact, he looked a little like John Belushi.
The performance was of an episode from the Mahabharata in which Arjuna, one of the hero Pandava brothers, and Shiva, disguised as a huntsman, both shoot the same deer or boar (I forget which) and then dispute over it. A balding buy played Parvati, Shiva's consort, his baldness, which I had noticed when he was applying his make up, now hidden by his elaborate costume. All Kathakali actors are men. Seated only about 20 or 30 feet from the actors, I found the performance enthralling, with the grand gestures, the dancing, the frenzied drumming, and wonderful singing by the guy who ran the performance, wearing a long white dhoti and standing in the corner signing and ring small cymbals. The actors do occasionally make some whoops and groans and the like, but have no speaking lines. Afterwards I spoke quite a while with the guy who runs the shows, and he was very interesting, explaining a lot more about Kathakali.
The next morning I walked around for about an hour before breakfast, watching the activity at the fishing nets and market and visiting a few more of the colonial mansions turned into hotels, one the former home of a Jewish merchant named Samuel Koder, with a photo of him showing Queen Elizabeth II a torah. After breakfast I walked to the ferry jetty and took the ferry to Ernakulam, where I got a bus to a folklore museum in the southern part of the city. This museum was built by a private collector out of something like 30 old houses. It is three stories high and filled with fascinating artifacts, including carvings, paintings, musical instruments, carved wooden pillars, windows, and doors, Kathakali and Theyyam masks and costumes, old photographs, and much else. On the top floor is a beautiful 17th century wooden theater hall, with murals on the walls and an elaborate ceiling. Also extensively displayed were several photos from a visit by Prince Charles.
I spent a couple of hours looking around inside and then made my way to the Maharaja of Cochin's Hill Palace, now a museum, in Tripunithura, ten miles southeast of Ernakulam. This turned out to be a somewhat difficult trip, taking more than an hour and a half. It is not particularly hilly around this palace, though the palace is on a low rise. The palace is much larger than the one in Thrissur, but run down. Inside was the former cabinet room, some wonderful old carriages and palanquins, portraits, weapons, and a strange metal person shaped cage in which prisoners are said to have been executed, by being pecked to death by birds while inside. I spent about two hours looking around inside and then walked through the gardens before starting back to Cochin about 4:30.
Through a series of mishaps, it took me two hours to get back to Cochin, and I arrived at the theater for the Kathakali just after the initial demonstration of eye movements and so forth had begun, with a different guy doing the demonstration this time. I again had a front row seat and enjoyed it all. The excerpt that evening dealt with the story of Bhima, one of the Pandava brothers of the Mahabharata, killing a demon named Baka who had been terrorizing a village of brahmins. Afterwards, from 8 to 9, I watched the weekly dance performance at the theatre, with examples of the dances of Kerala, Andhra Pradesh, and the bharatanatyam of Tamil Nadu, which I had seen at the dance festival in Mamallapuram in January. The dancers, though students, were very good.
The next morning before breakfast I peaked into the Sunday morning church service at St. Francis' Church and then wandered around watching all the activity at the fishing nets and market. After breakfast and reading the newspaper, I started walking to Mattancherry, a neighborhood about a mile and a half away. I followed the streets heading east towards the ferry jetty, where I turned south on a street paralleling the lake, passing lots of old buildings, many of the shops in them closed and just about all of them in a pretty dilapidated condition. Arriving in Mattancherry, I passed the Mattancherry Palace, former residence of the Rajas of Cochin and reached what is called Jewtown just south of the palace. Kerala had a substantial community of Jews, perhaps dating from as early as the 6th century B.C., or at least from the 1st century A.D. Apparently, those descended from the earliest arrivals were known as the Black Jews, while those descending from more recent arrivals were known as the White Jews. In any event, they arrived in Cochin and built a synagogue near the Raja's palace in 1568. Unfortunately, it was closed the morning I arrived due to a Jewish holiday. The little streets near the synagogue comprise Jewtown (main street: Jew Street) and the old shops are now filled with antique and spice shops, plus a few restaurants and a hotel, all catering to tourists. The Jews virtually all left for Israel soon after its creation.
I walked back to the Mattancherry Palace, also called the Dutch Palace. It was built by the Portuguese in 1557 to help cement their trading relations with the Raja, but renovated in 1663 when the Dutch took over. It is a two story square building, with a courtyard in the center that houses a Hindu temple, closed that day. The building doesn't look that impressive from the outside, but inside it is very interesting. I spent three hours inside. It was crowded at first, with lots of Indian tourists on a Sunday morning, but thinned out later. The palace contains very interesting and extensive descriptions of the history and culture of Cochin, so I spent a lot of time reading. It also contained some very interesting photographs and objects such as clothes and palanquins. One room had large portraits of the rajas from the royal family's last century of rule, up to independence, with descriptions of their reigns. The highlight of the palace are its murals, dating from the perhaps the 16th century, though I've also read from the 18th century. One room's walls are covered with scenes from the Ramayana, and little signs give a very good description of what is depicted. Another room had other very interesting murals of Vishnu and other gods, again with very good descriptions. Downstairs, I have read, is a room with very erotic murals, but they aren't open to the public.
I made the very hot mid afternoon walk back to Fort Cochin and had a late lunch about 3, reading a news magazine during and after lunch. Just before 5 I again visited St. Francis Church and stopped in the modern Catholic church on my way to another Kathakali performance, getting there at 5 to watch the make-up being put on. These Kathakali performances cost 300 rupees, about $5, so a very good deal. This evening's performance portrayed an excerpt from the killing of Kichaka, a general who tries to seduce Malini, the wife of all five of the Pandava brothers. When she resists, he beats her. She tells Bhima, who hides in wait for Kichaka and kills him. I again had a front row seat. Afterwards, from 8 to 9, I watched at the same theater a performance of sittar and tabla, which was just excellent, in fact mesmerizing. The sittar player had long, graying hair and a long, thin face, looking a little like Rabindranath Tagore. The tabla player was a young guy with glasses. They improvised on three different ragas and seemed to very much enjoy playing with each other. The sittar had 20 strings. Apparently, they come in 19, 20, and 21 string varieties.
The next morning I again went to see the activity at the fishing nets and market before breakfast. There seemed to be a lot more variety of fish and other seafood being sold that morning, including baby sharks, lobsters, tuna, and mussels with a green border on their shells, besides the variety of fish and crabs, big and small, usually on display for sale.
After breakfast I again walked to Mattancherry and Jewtown to see the synagogue. Originally built in 1568, it was rebuilt after the Dutch takeover, and later, in 1760, a clock tower was added next to it. The floor is covered with beautiful hand painted blue and white Chinese tiles of four different scenes. It is interesting to look at them closely to see just the small differences in tiles depicting the same scene. The tabernacle housing the Torah was closed and covered with a cloth. Oil lamps and chandeliers, the latter from Belgium, hung from the ceiling. Afterwards, I walked to the cemetery (on Jew Cemetery Lane) and then spent quite a bit of time in the interesting spice and antique shops. Some of the antique shops seem more like museums, with some really wonderful stuff, including a boat maybe 50 feet long with parasols and paddles. I stopped in at the Mattancherry Palace again (admission costs only five rupees) to look at the murals once again. I headed back at 2, another hot mid afternoon walk, and then had another late lunch before getting a haircut for all of 70 rupees, a little over a dollar. At 5 I again went to the Kathakali performance and again saw the Killing of Baka. I was a little disappointed to see a repeat, but I enjoyed it. The cast was different.
As usual, the next morning I spent time watching all the activity at the fishing nets and market before breakfast. After breakfast, I spent the two hours before noon again walking around. The area around the fishing nets was now crowded with elderly foreign tourists. I walked past the nets and then along the shore on the west side of town and watched the few fishermen in canoes out on the Arabian Sea. I also watched several big cargo ships come in from the sea and head into port. A couple of Indian Navy ships left port and headed out to sea. I sat for a while in the shade watching the sea. My thermometer indicated 90 degrees in the shade, but there was a breeze. Still, it was hot. Temperatures in Cochin during the day usually were about 95 to 97 degrees, according to the newspapers, and about 75 degrees at night, though my thermometer usually indicated 84 or 86 in my room at night. High humidity, too. March to May are Kerala's hottest months, before the monsoon hits in June.
I spent the early afternoon in an internet cafe and then had lunch. After lunch I took another walk around town, walking east along the north shore to a big hotel with very interesting old maps and old photographs. One of the old photographs showed a city street, perhaps from a century ago, with the people all in traditional clothes..The first thing I noticed was the absence of litter. At 5 I again headed to the Kathakali performance, having to content myself with a second row seat for the first time. The excerpt that evening was from the story of Nakrathundi, a demoness who changes herself into a beautiful girl in an attempt to seduce a warrior son of the god Indra. She fails, turns back into her demoness form, and is attacked by Indra's son, who cuts off her nose, ears, and breasts. The guy playing the demoness Nakrathundi did have large red wooden breasts as part of his costume.
I spent a last hot night in Cochin before heading inland into the cool hills. I was tempted to stay a day longer, but wanted to get into the hills before the weekend, when they are inundated by Indians seeking to escape the heat of the lowlands. And I wanted to escape the heat of the lowlands, too.
The bus station is in Ernakulam. I took an auto rickshaw to the main jetty and from there one of the frequent ferries across the lake to Cochin, or Fort Cochin as it is called. The little wooden ferry headed west across the lake, which I think perhaps must in fact be an estuary, as it has a not quite Golden Gate outlet to the Arabian Sea between Fort Cochin and Vypeen Island just to the north of Fort Cochin. Cochin's port was dredged and modernized in the 1930's, creating a large island, Willingdon Island, named after a Viceroy, I think. The port facilities are now quite extensive. We passed several huge cranes and several large ships coming or going. The ferry took only about 15 minutes, skirting the northern end of Willingdon Island, to reach the jetty on the northeast shore of Fort Cochin. From there I had about a 15 minute walk, passing lots of old colonial buildings, to the center of the old town of Cochin, where I checked into a small hotel. I had passed a restaurant advertising spinach cheese quiche and banana cream pie ( a sure sign that a place attracts lots of western tourists) on the way, so after checking in I headed there and had spinach quiche and banana cream pie. Neither was all that good, but a welcome change from Indian food.
Cochin first gained prominence after a great flood in 1341 created an outlet to the sea from Vembanad Lake just north of Cochin, which also led to the silting up of the previous outlet about 30 miles north, which had been the site of Muziris, the great port on India's Malabar coast since Roman times and before. In 1405 the royal family moved south to Cochin, which was already a major port trading with Arabs, Chinese, and others. The Portuguese arrived in 1500 under Cabral, who had discovered Brazil on the way. Da Gama had first arrived further north two years earlier, near Calicut, but hadn't gotten along with the ruler of Calicut, the Zamorin. The Raja of Cochin and the Zamorin of Calicut were rivals, and the Raja of Calicut welcomed the Portuguese and gave them leave to build a fort at Cochin, which they did. They soon controlled the coast, and did so until supplanted by the Dutch in 1663. The British in turn supplanted the Dutch in 1795.
After my late lunch I walked around the old town, first to the big fishing nets along the north shore, facing the busy outlet to the sea. Cochin is famous for these big fishing nets, made of teak timbers, though many now have replaced some of the teak beams with much less appealing metal ones. About ten nets stand along the sandy shore, with the nets themselves having a diameter of perhaps 60 feet, hung from the teak timbers lashed together that must stand 30 or 40 feet high. The big contraptions are operated by four to six men, who pull ropes to start lifting the net out of the sea, aided by huge rocks, one or two feet in diameter, suspended by ropes. It is quite an ingenious and interesting operation. About ten other nets stand across the water, on the southern shore of Vypeen Island. I've read these nets are costly to maintain, and are dying out. The last ones are the 20 or so in Cochin and across the way on Vypeen Island. The idea came from China, apparently from Chinese traders some time between 1350 and 1450. I've also read that they were reintroduced by the Portuguese who learned about them in Macau, after Arabs had driven out the Chinese (and apparently their nets) before the Portuguese arrived. It is fascinating to watch the nets being operated. They weren't scooping up much fish that afternoon, though. Only two or three were in operation.
I spent a couple of hours walking around the old town, with many old colonial buildings. I've read that local laws prohibit the building of new buildings in an effort to preserve the colonial character of Fort Cochin. I passed lots of these old buildings, some in good shape and others not, plus a couple of churches, a Dutch cemetery, remnants of the old fort walls, and a former parade ground filled in the late afternoon with cricket and soccer players. I watched the sunset from the very dirty beach near the westernmost of the giant fishing nets.
The next morning before a late breakfast I spent about three hours looking around the old city. I started again at the fishing nets and the very busy morning outdoor fish market alongside. Fish were brought in by fishermen coming ashore in hand paddled canoes and then plopped or dumped by the bucket full onto dirty sacks lying on the ground. A guy then quickly auctioned off each lot, taking a fish or two from each pile as his share. It was all very interesting to watch. I noticed cats also found it interesting to watch. They were very well behaved, that is, restrained. I walked through the streets again, too, stopping to enter some of the big old houses now serving as hotels. Huge trees, full of green leaves but their limbs covered with dead epiphytes now in the dry season, are all over town. The parade ground was again filled with cricket and soccer players. Next to the parade ground is St. Francis Church, originally built by the Portuguese in 1503 as a Catholic church, though rebuilt in the mid 1500's. It became a Dutch Reformed church after the Dutch takeover in 1663, was renovated again in the 18th century, and became an Anglican church after the British takeover. It now belongs to the Church of South India. Inside, now lining the walls after renovation, are old Portuguese and Dutch tombstones. On the floor is the former tombstone of Vasco da Gama, who was buried here after his death in 1524. His body was returned to Portugal in 1538, where it now reposes in an elaborate tomb.
I ate breakfast where I had eaten lunch the day before, a very nice and comfortable place where I had a delicious cheese and tomato omelet accompanied by thick brown bread with butter and masala tea. In fact, I ate breakfast there every morning I was in Cochin, and almost invariably had the same breakfast, which I would eat while reading one of the newspapers provided for customers.
After breakfast I walked to the Indo-Portuguese Museum near the Bishop's Palace, with an only mildly interesting collection of church antiquities. It was hot and humid and I spent the early part of the afternoon in an internet cafe.
At 4 I went to see a martial arts demonstration. Kalarippayat is an ancient Keralan martial art, dating back to the 12th century. Two remarkable fit young men demonstrated it on a stage for about an hour and it was very interesting. It was much like gymnastics, with jumps and flips. They demonstrated holds and attacks, and then fought each other with hands, then sticks, then knives, then swords, and finally with one guy wielding a metal double whip. Sparks flew as they leaped at each other in mid air, their swords clashing. It was all very impressive and in fact a little scary at times.
Afterwards I watched a Kathakali performance on the same stage. Kathakali originated in the 17th century and is a Keralan dramatic art form, with the actors, accompanied by a singer and drummers, not reciting lines but communicating with gestures, eye movements, and mudras (hand gestures). The performance started at 6:30, but we got to watch the three actors put on their elaborate make-up starting at 5. They came out soon after 5 and I had a front row seat. They sat holding little mirrors, with little paint pots in front of them, and used their fingers and tiny brushes to apply bright green, red, yellow, white and black make-up in gaudy designs all over their faces. It was very interesting to watch. The hero, once he had done his preliminary make-up, laid on his back while a make-up expert worked on him for maybe an hour, applying more make-up and gluing to his chin and cheeks strips of white paper that he had first cut with scissors. This beard like white paper, I was later told, dates from the days before electrical lighting and helped to illuminate the face of the hero by reflection of the surrounding oil lamps.
Kathakali performances typically occur at temple festivities and last all night, from six to nine hours. We saw only an excerpt of about an hour to an hour and a half. The actors wear not only gaudy make-up but extremely elaborate costumes, with hooped skirts, lots of jewelry, and elaborate headdresses. Also, they rub a certain kind of seed and then put it into their eyes just before the performance starts, keeping it there till the end. This makes their eyes red, that is, bloodshot. Before the play excerpt started, one of the actors came out, sat down, and to excellent descriptive commentary, demonstrated amazing eye movements, to the timing of the beating of drums, a two side drum beaten by fingers and a one sided drum beaten by drumsticks. He also demonstrated the 24 mudras and acted out the nine basic emotions (love, anger, fear, wonder, repulsion, bravery, disdain, sorrow, and quiet). He also demonstrated certain commands and requests, all very interesting. At first I found his wonderful eyebrow movements reminiscent at first of Sam Ervin, and later John Belushi. In fact, he looked a little like John Belushi.
The performance was of an episode from the Mahabharata in which Arjuna, one of the hero Pandava brothers, and Shiva, disguised as a huntsman, both shoot the same deer or boar (I forget which) and then dispute over it. A balding buy played Parvati, Shiva's consort, his baldness, which I had noticed when he was applying his make up, now hidden by his elaborate costume. All Kathakali actors are men. Seated only about 20 or 30 feet from the actors, I found the performance enthralling, with the grand gestures, the dancing, the frenzied drumming, and wonderful singing by the guy who ran the performance, wearing a long white dhoti and standing in the corner signing and ring small cymbals. The actors do occasionally make some whoops and groans and the like, but have no speaking lines. Afterwards I spoke quite a while with the guy who runs the shows, and he was very interesting, explaining a lot more about Kathakali.
The next morning I walked around for about an hour before breakfast, watching the activity at the fishing nets and market and visiting a few more of the colonial mansions turned into hotels, one the former home of a Jewish merchant named Samuel Koder, with a photo of him showing Queen Elizabeth II a torah. After breakfast I walked to the ferry jetty and took the ferry to Ernakulam, where I got a bus to a folklore museum in the southern part of the city. This museum was built by a private collector out of something like 30 old houses. It is three stories high and filled with fascinating artifacts, including carvings, paintings, musical instruments, carved wooden pillars, windows, and doors, Kathakali and Theyyam masks and costumes, old photographs, and much else. On the top floor is a beautiful 17th century wooden theater hall, with murals on the walls and an elaborate ceiling. Also extensively displayed were several photos from a visit by Prince Charles.
I spent a couple of hours looking around inside and then made my way to the Maharaja of Cochin's Hill Palace, now a museum, in Tripunithura, ten miles southeast of Ernakulam. This turned out to be a somewhat difficult trip, taking more than an hour and a half. It is not particularly hilly around this palace, though the palace is on a low rise. The palace is much larger than the one in Thrissur, but run down. Inside was the former cabinet room, some wonderful old carriages and palanquins, portraits, weapons, and a strange metal person shaped cage in which prisoners are said to have been executed, by being pecked to death by birds while inside. I spent about two hours looking around inside and then walked through the gardens before starting back to Cochin about 4:30.
Through a series of mishaps, it took me two hours to get back to Cochin, and I arrived at the theater for the Kathakali just after the initial demonstration of eye movements and so forth had begun, with a different guy doing the demonstration this time. I again had a front row seat and enjoyed it all. The excerpt that evening dealt with the story of Bhima, one of the Pandava brothers of the Mahabharata, killing a demon named Baka who had been terrorizing a village of brahmins. Afterwards, from 8 to 9, I watched the weekly dance performance at the theatre, with examples of the dances of Kerala, Andhra Pradesh, and the bharatanatyam of Tamil Nadu, which I had seen at the dance festival in Mamallapuram in January. The dancers, though students, were very good.
The next morning before breakfast I peaked into the Sunday morning church service at St. Francis' Church and then wandered around watching all the activity at the fishing nets and market. After breakfast and reading the newspaper, I started walking to Mattancherry, a neighborhood about a mile and a half away. I followed the streets heading east towards the ferry jetty, where I turned south on a street paralleling the lake, passing lots of old buildings, many of the shops in them closed and just about all of them in a pretty dilapidated condition. Arriving in Mattancherry, I passed the Mattancherry Palace, former residence of the Rajas of Cochin and reached what is called Jewtown just south of the palace. Kerala had a substantial community of Jews, perhaps dating from as early as the 6th century B.C., or at least from the 1st century A.D. Apparently, those descended from the earliest arrivals were known as the Black Jews, while those descending from more recent arrivals were known as the White Jews. In any event, they arrived in Cochin and built a synagogue near the Raja's palace in 1568. Unfortunately, it was closed the morning I arrived due to a Jewish holiday. The little streets near the synagogue comprise Jewtown (main street: Jew Street) and the old shops are now filled with antique and spice shops, plus a few restaurants and a hotel, all catering to tourists. The Jews virtually all left for Israel soon after its creation.
I walked back to the Mattancherry Palace, also called the Dutch Palace. It was built by the Portuguese in 1557 to help cement their trading relations with the Raja, but renovated in 1663 when the Dutch took over. It is a two story square building, with a courtyard in the center that houses a Hindu temple, closed that day. The building doesn't look that impressive from the outside, but inside it is very interesting. I spent three hours inside. It was crowded at first, with lots of Indian tourists on a Sunday morning, but thinned out later. The palace contains very interesting and extensive descriptions of the history and culture of Cochin, so I spent a lot of time reading. It also contained some very interesting photographs and objects such as clothes and palanquins. One room had large portraits of the rajas from the royal family's last century of rule, up to independence, with descriptions of their reigns. The highlight of the palace are its murals, dating from the perhaps the 16th century, though I've also read from the 18th century. One room's walls are covered with scenes from the Ramayana, and little signs give a very good description of what is depicted. Another room had other very interesting murals of Vishnu and other gods, again with very good descriptions. Downstairs, I have read, is a room with very erotic murals, but they aren't open to the public.
I made the very hot mid afternoon walk back to Fort Cochin and had a late lunch about 3, reading a news magazine during and after lunch. Just before 5 I again visited St. Francis Church and stopped in the modern Catholic church on my way to another Kathakali performance, getting there at 5 to watch the make-up being put on. These Kathakali performances cost 300 rupees, about $5, so a very good deal. This evening's performance portrayed an excerpt from the killing of Kichaka, a general who tries to seduce Malini, the wife of all five of the Pandava brothers. When she resists, he beats her. She tells Bhima, who hides in wait for Kichaka and kills him. I again had a front row seat. Afterwards, from 8 to 9, I watched at the same theater a performance of sittar and tabla, which was just excellent, in fact mesmerizing. The sittar player had long, graying hair and a long, thin face, looking a little like Rabindranath Tagore. The tabla player was a young guy with glasses. They improvised on three different ragas and seemed to very much enjoy playing with each other. The sittar had 20 strings. Apparently, they come in 19, 20, and 21 string varieties.
The next morning I again went to see the activity at the fishing nets and market before breakfast. There seemed to be a lot more variety of fish and other seafood being sold that morning, including baby sharks, lobsters, tuna, and mussels with a green border on their shells, besides the variety of fish and crabs, big and small, usually on display for sale.
After breakfast I again walked to Mattancherry and Jewtown to see the synagogue. Originally built in 1568, it was rebuilt after the Dutch takeover, and later, in 1760, a clock tower was added next to it. The floor is covered with beautiful hand painted blue and white Chinese tiles of four different scenes. It is interesting to look at them closely to see just the small differences in tiles depicting the same scene. The tabernacle housing the Torah was closed and covered with a cloth. Oil lamps and chandeliers, the latter from Belgium, hung from the ceiling. Afterwards, I walked to the cemetery (on Jew Cemetery Lane) and then spent quite a bit of time in the interesting spice and antique shops. Some of the antique shops seem more like museums, with some really wonderful stuff, including a boat maybe 50 feet long with parasols and paddles. I stopped in at the Mattancherry Palace again (admission costs only five rupees) to look at the murals once again. I headed back at 2, another hot mid afternoon walk, and then had another late lunch before getting a haircut for all of 70 rupees, a little over a dollar. At 5 I again went to the Kathakali performance and again saw the Killing of Baka. I was a little disappointed to see a repeat, but I enjoyed it. The cast was different.
As usual, the next morning I spent time watching all the activity at the fishing nets and market before breakfast. After breakfast, I spent the two hours before noon again walking around. The area around the fishing nets was now crowded with elderly foreign tourists. I walked past the nets and then along the shore on the west side of town and watched the few fishermen in canoes out on the Arabian Sea. I also watched several big cargo ships come in from the sea and head into port. A couple of Indian Navy ships left port and headed out to sea. I sat for a while in the shade watching the sea. My thermometer indicated 90 degrees in the shade, but there was a breeze. Still, it was hot. Temperatures in Cochin during the day usually were about 95 to 97 degrees, according to the newspapers, and about 75 degrees at night, though my thermometer usually indicated 84 or 86 in my room at night. High humidity, too. March to May are Kerala's hottest months, before the monsoon hits in June.
I spent the early afternoon in an internet cafe and then had lunch. After lunch I took another walk around town, walking east along the north shore to a big hotel with very interesting old maps and old photographs. One of the old photographs showed a city street, perhaps from a century ago, with the people all in traditional clothes..The first thing I noticed was the absence of litter. At 5 I again headed to the Kathakali performance, having to content myself with a second row seat for the first time. The excerpt that evening was from the story of Nakrathundi, a demoness who changes herself into a beautiful girl in an attempt to seduce a warrior son of the god Indra. She fails, turns back into her demoness form, and is attacked by Indra's son, who cuts off her nose, ears, and breasts. The guy playing the demoness Nakrathundi did have large red wooden breasts as part of his costume.
I spent a last hot night in Cochin before heading inland into the cool hills. I was tempted to stay a day longer, but wanted to get into the hills before the weekend, when they are inundated by Indians seeking to escape the heat of the lowlands. And I wanted to escape the heat of the lowlands, too.
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