Don't hold your breath, cause we're running in circles.

I've spent the last few days in a bit of a trance.
I will sit and just spend hours sitting, or lying, on the roof, listening to music, writing, reading, thinking, and then when it gets dark, I'll go for a late night walk.

It's a strange existence knowing that things are coming to an end, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. 

Here's a few pictures of daily Tagore life. Only in India will you find:

students learning/practicing Hindi on the back porch

Students learning sitar on the front porch

clothes hang drying and students talking and watching the sunset while listening to sitar students

There have been 3 girls to shave their heads here - it's weird, because the only times Indians shave their heads are when they are babies and their parents sacrifice their hair, they are widowed, or they are Buddhists. People don't just shave their heads.

2 out of 3 were ok - the most recent girl to shave her head has a horrible combination of skinhead/concentration camp look. I am not sure she is aware of this, but I would find it hard not to. 

And it isn't funny in the least - it looks really bad, and it's incredibly sad that is the vision she creates when we look at her. The shaving of a woman's head is not a happy time in India.

Women here believe that their hair is their most beautiful feature. 

So naturally, I find it sad that women shave their heads when their husband dies - they don't want to seem attractive to other men, so they make themselves ugly. I find it very sad. 

It they don't shave their head, they will burn themselves at their funeral. It's called "sati" and it is widow burning, and I have a hard time finding more heartbreaking scenarios than women who commit suicide because they are expected to only live for their husband.

I've spent a good time doing some research on a man named Baba Amte - he was a lawyer turned activist when he once walked past a man infected with leprosy. The man was so bad off that his eyes had rotted out, and while he was still alive, he had maggots in his eye sockets. 

So Baba Amte created a safe haven, a leprosy colony, for those with leprosy to come and get care. And then build their pride by giving them jobs. It took a while for it to catch on, because lepers are the absolute lowest in the caste system - but after help and dedication, Baba Amte created an area where lepers ran their own city. They were their own cooks, gardeners, teachers, students, receptionists, lawyers, etc. They were completely self-sustained.

How amazing is that.

The place - Anandwan. I want to visit. 

Not to gawk, but they invite people to come visit. They want people to come see what these victims of leprosy - without eyes, hands, feet, etc - can accomplish when they are given the chance and not discarded for have a disease. I truly appreciate that.

Hyderabad has been in turmoil for a few days. On Saturday afternoon, Hyderabad's Old City was set on fire - Muslim/Hindu conflict. I just learned about some of this in my Contemp. India class. At one point after Independence, there was so much conflict, so many riots and massacres between Muslims and Hindus, that when the opponent would invade a town or city, the women and children were forced to jump down wells and commit suicide so they wouldn't be killed, to retain pride.

That isn't what happened here in the city, but it is always hard to know the truth. From talking with different people, the news is incredibly corrupt in India - politicians and others pay the newspapers to say what they want them to say. So, the papers only say that there were communal clashes and stone throwing...

But, Hindus wanted to erect religious flags in Muslim mosques. And then there was stone pelting, and burning of the Old City. It keeps on going. The local hospital is overflowing with patients.

We can't leave Tagore.

HCU campus is also under turmoil. Classes on Monday were canceled due to the beating of 3 students that are part of the campus Marxist group with bike chains by student Nationalists. 

The level of violence in India is appalling. Sometimes, I can't believe people come here to find peace of mind and self through far-fetched concepts of India. Peace does not exist here. The idea that India is a beautiful holistically healing place is overrated, and misunderstood.

People will commit suicide, will attack others, will burn places of worship and the government is so corrupt that nothing happens. Nothing changes. Life continues to be violent.

In terms of corruptness, our Mr. Das was telling us about how the newspapers and railway stations will lie about deaths during derailings, etc.

Apparently the railway company has to give money to the families of those that die during railway crashes. Instead of doing so, people that are severely injured will be killed on the spot and then labeled as "missing" so the railways don't have to pay the families.

How people know this and don't raise hell about it blows my mind.

It's disappointing.

But it isn't just India. 

I am slightly addicted to BBC for it is incredibly informative - the world sometimes seems like a horrible place to be. I never find anything happy to read.

Miss America-ish perhaps. 

But really. I would like world peace.

and so it is

I see you changing girl, from day to day. impressed by the time, to imitate, those who are older, those who are colder, suddenly embarrassed by your age. 

a bigger blessing girl, is being young, the power of not knowing where you belong. I try so hard to keep it, not to lose that secret, waiting for someone like you to come along.

It's funny how people tell you not to worry when you go away, because when you come back, life will be the same and you will be the one that has changed. 

But it's a lie. Life goes on, whether you are there or not and it doesn't matter what you thought you might be able to pick up, what you left off. when you've left, you've left. 

and life goes on without you.

you've left and changed and had a thousand more experiences than you ever thought possible

you can't hold onto things

and nobody is waiting for you to come back and pick up where you left off. 

In fact, once you are gone, they are gone too.

you can't hold onto things that don't exist.

Things change, from day to day. I'm blessed that I'm young, with the power and the right to not know where I belong.

Ganesha Glue

I feel... bored.
The semester is ending and yes, I have a good deal of work to do. And yes, I'm in India experiencing things that some people never get the chance to experience. In fact, experiencing experiences I never thought I would get. And yes, my life is just beginning and I'm gonna have non-stop stuff to always do, like what to do with my life...
But I'm bored.

I've been thinking that India is not challenging, not the type of challenging I want it to be.
And then I thought, Charleston hasn't been either.
Both have been challenging in their own ways...

In CofCland, I've spent my time there rebuilding my identity after transferring from Elon, trying to decide where to connect my interests, how to connect with people that I originally wanted nothing to do with because making friends meant 1.) making someone important in my life at the time mad at me/trying to build/keep trust and 2.) it meant I was in Charleston forever. I wasn't going back to where I wanted to be. I was going to have to live with my new life and surroundings.
Thankfully enough, Charleston is a beautiful place I have grown to appreciate. It took an interesting change of events to make me see that where I was happened to be worth the effort.
It took effort to make Charleston the worthy place that it is in my mind today.

In Indialand, I've been testing my limits, my worldly-ness, my cross cultural savvy-ness.
It did not take as much effort as I thought. I came prepared for this zoo - my mind was set. But I wanted to be a vagabond then, and India is the land of vagabonds. Everyone here is searching for things that they aren't sure exist, potentially unattainable goals but hey, the ride is great. In India, I'm Thoreau, living a simple life that didn't exist at home, yet entirely too complex for home and anything I have ever known before here. In India, I'm searching for the things I don't know how to find whatever it is I'm looking for.
I'm here to be here, to be one with India, India's people and India's mindset.

But I'm bored.
I've been bored for a long time.

Working towards a degree is not the same as working towards finding... the truth (what is the truth?) Working towards a degree, towards grades, towards a career, does not mean that I have been pushing myself, or that there has been any indication that I do so. Working towards surviving India through language differences, academic interests, oppression of my identity and sex, the feeling of not being involved and far secluded from the rest of India, the never ending questions that are never answered... is not the same as pushing myself to, I suppose, to beat myself at WHAT I have no clue.

I mean, I'm interested in self-expression.
And I feel suppressed here in India.

But I felt suppressed in Charleston (but in a different way.)



I CAN'T FIND THE WAY TO SAY WHAT I WANT TO SAY.



This bothers me.

I want to be challenged, and not just with everyday things, like how to deal with roommate issues and the new apt. or how to get to Mumbai for a weekend with a paper due the following Monday, which might not be so much of an everyday issue once I return to the US.

No. I want to be surrounded by people who are always striving to be on top. I want competition to look at me in the face and tell me to be prepared.
Anthropologists by nature, are non-confrontational, I would say.
I might be breaking ground in the area of anthropologists.
This is a clear indication that I am confrontational. Yes, of course it is. Is this a clear indication that I will be the world's worst anthropologist? I certainly hope not, because even though I'm conflicted, I know what I love.
I just don't know how to make it all work together, and what to concentrate on more.

I do know I want to be surrounded by incredibly talented people that I constantly compare myself to, and then determine, that yes, I am my own great creative individual self and look at what I can offer to the world. Look what I have, look what I am capable of.
Is this for others to see, or myself, I have yet to determine.

No. I know better than that.
Every single person is a beautiful, talented, capable individual, without having to prove that to anybody but themselves, myself included.

Despite that, has this always been my lifelong desire - to be on top?
I think maybe, yes. I can't think of where else I would want to be.
But I want to be pushed by the constantly visible talent of others.

I miss having to prove myself. I miss the yelling and the determination and the defeat that turns into victory. I miss feeling... 2nd to Best and then fighting it, overcoming it.
This is stage life for me, that I want.

But I love the freedom of anthropology. I love that I have chosen a profession where I can travel and talk to people and stare at them without being judgmental and eat new food and hear new music and have all kinds of amazing experiences. I love that I'm currently headed towards preserving traditional arts, and cracking myths and codes, and discovering how current society has been affected by age-old beliefs. And its not that anthropology isn't a challenging profession in its own way... I constantly think that I am not concrete enough in my knowledge of myself and my interests to truly be an anthropologist. It sucks being in classes with other people that are completely dedicated to anthropology, so smart, so studious, and I'm thinking about other things I want to be competing for, as well.

WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH TWO (actually, many more than 2) CONFLICTING EMOTIONS AND DESIRES!?

Am I 17,397 different people living in one body, each wanting to be the true Allyn, without having a certifiable multiple personalities disorder?

WHY AM I NOT SURROUNDED BY CRAZIES THAT MAKE ME QUESTION MY VERY EXISTENCE AND ABILITIES? WHY ISN'T ANYBODY PUSHING ME? WHY DOES SOMEONE ALWAYS HAVE TO PUSHING ME? HOW HAVE I LET THIS NONSENSE TO GO ON FOR THIS LONG?

Maybe I'm just antsy tonight - I should not watch dance videos and spy on the New School website in Greenwich Village and read Vogue and Attack of the Theater People and download pop music all in the same day.
It makes me anxious for a different life, and change of pace.
or maybe it just makes me anxious.

Presents some pretty fine questions though.
Like, um.
Why do I like so many things, and want to be and do so much and how do I make it all work for me in a way that makes me feel complete?

Either way, I need a creative outlet and surroundings.
I also know that the only thing this blog implies is that I have failed at truly finding my own voice and way through lack of effort to improve my surroundings and chances.

How depressing on a Saturday night.



By the way, none of this came out like I wanted it to come out. I have done a poor job of describing my emotions this evening.

I want to be a lot of things - how do I know I am making any correct decisions when everything feels like it works sometimes?

Today, I got an email from the CofC Anth department - a fellowship I applied for earlier... was awarded to me! So, now I have an extra $1,000 to help fund Thailand! Yay!!

I also signed up for fall 2010 classes... it always feels so... serious, so life or death, if I do not sign up as quickly as possible on my day. Today was worse than normal - our power was out during my registration time. I was certain I would never get any class I wanted or needed.
But I did, and now I am signed up, with an extra space in the spring before graduation for a fun class, or I suppose, space for an internship or independent study...


btw, Kerala paratha is bread. It is delicious bread, the type you can live off of. Not bread and butter, even apple butter.
Kerala Paratha is... I think, because this is how other bread is made... Indian flour, or probably any flour actually, and water and ground yeast and sunshine that causes it to rise and then it is rolled into and ball, pounded out/rolled out, flipped into layers and such and then put on a griddle thing for like 30 seconds and it comes out perfect and beautiful and delicious, and not like a pancake, although that is kinda what it sounds like.

I see you building the castle with one hand

While I'm opting to forgo a bike ride and hop the bus to and from class due to temperatures above 103 degrees everyday, and gazing longingly after small dogs because I just want to pick them up and squeeze them but don't for fear of disease, this is what it looks like at home (courtesy of Dad):

pretty bottle tree

ooo kitty baby! I can't wait to hug her!

Oh!

And poor Gus!! I wish I could hug him too, poor little broken baby.

(my mom hit him with the car and now he has a broken hip and sleeps in my room. send love his way, so he heals faster. This works according to my yoga teacher - she makes us concentrate on classmate's injuries and then we heal them by sending love to their injury. Send love to my mom too, because she is very sad and hurt that it happened, even though it was an accident.)

peach trees and the blue ridge mountains

Spring time is so beautiful at home - but I won't be missing it, I come home soon.

Mark your calendars - Allyn will be back on American soil May 6th.

Then she'll be taking off to Thailand for the month of June to do ethnographic field work, so you are gonna have to catch her fast if you are going to try and catch her.

She's had a taste of other things and other lands and other ideas and other people and from now on, plans on being very hard to catch because she will be doing so many other things in other places.

I was talking with my Hindi tutor (he says "only" as "onely" and can't say "v's" as in "vowel." So he says "wowel" and I can't help but laugh every time) and he told me that around the last 15-20 days of the semester, everyone gets all depressed and stops talking and doing anything because they just want to be home, and they can taste comfort food and smell clean air, etc. etc. Sounds depressing. 

And a waste of the last 15-20 days of a stay in India. I know I have my homesickish days... strangely enough, they are few and far between. Everyone was so surprised that I was following through with my decision to go to India for so long, as if I couldn't do it, or as if I am a homebody.

Do not get me wrong - I love my beautiful home and my wonderful family and all of the things that I just want to wrap up in a quilt and throw over my body every night, to sleep covered in love and happiness, but I am not naturally a homesick person. 

Despite what they and their parents thought, I never went to friends houses because the parents were so picky, so decisive, so deadline-ish, and so... in charge. I mean, my parents made me sit at the table until I finished my banana and forced me to practice piano... but they trusted me and let me dress myself and choose my activities and decide on my own what was good or bad for me, offering help and opinions and doling out punishment where necessary, but ultimately letting me grow up a well rounded, not super naive kid.

I'm not a homebody, although I am very close with my family and love when I am with them and that will never, ever, ever change.

So here I am - 6 weeks left in India and I'm ok with that. Am I ready? Haven't really thought about it until now. 

I've been here for 3 months now, and the only thing I want from home is hugs and love and laughter, which I know will always be there (and I know I will always want them).

I have come to appreciate home in a different way since being away. Growing up, SC was a hellhole lacking any type of opportunity but not rednecks and poor education. I still despise SC for reasons such as these, but now I can see the beauty of the South.

The South is full of history and relics and tradition. The idea of the Old South still appeals to me, southern bells and large plantations, good manners and great southern, relaxed style that is reflected in everything. I have my mountains and I have the sea and 4 beautiful seasons. I have cobblestone streets and large families that pick pecans together at Thanksgiving. There is heritage and delicious home made, secret family recipe food. There is hospitality like no other and boiled peanuts, farmer's markets and actual farmers. My grandmother calls me Precious Darling Angel Baby with a classic southern drawl and there are sun soaked wrap around porches and fields large enough for horses to run wild, free and happy with the wind.

I always wanted change, and more more more from where I was. It never offered enough. But I don't need it to offer me anything anymore. I need it, and love it, for what it is, the memories I have there, and what it is made of. 

That said, I can't wait until my next trip. I'll be in Thailand in 2 months, then one year until I graduate from college and then who knows. 

As long as I think about how exciting and how big the world is and all of the places I have to go and all of the things I have to do, I don't get so panicky about not having a clue what to do with a resume full of Anthropology, Dance and Religious Studies.

I'm glad I made the world and her beautiful people my job.

I'll admit, though. Sometimes I get teary when I think about my airport pickup moment, when I see my family for the first time in 4 months. It is going to be a very happy moment.

I get happy tears and a huge smile on my face just thinking about it.

Am I ready to be home?

Not yet - I still have so much to do and I don't know when I will ever have the chance to do it again.

I'm gearing myself up for how much I am going to miss being in India, because this is an amazing place full of things that I will never know at home.

But I will be ready to be home as soon as I hear that I should buckle my seat belt because we are about to land at the Atlanta Airport.

Sorry for the mushy post, but I was just thinking about it all.

Hello. Tell me you know, yea, you figured me out.

I have this horrible habit of sleeping on my stomach with my arms up above my head.

I've been caught in this position before , but there is nothing quite like waking up to a blaring phone alarm in a hotel room at 8 in the morning but being unable to turn it off due to the fact that my arms are asleep from the shoulders up and the only portion of my upper torso able to move is my head.
Unfortunately, heads cannot grab phones and turn off alarms so it went on for like 2 minutes.

There is also nothing worse than being held hostage in your own body like a turtle, with only your head poking out and only your back legs work.

Riane wanted to know why the alarm went on for so long - now she knows.

My arms were asleep and super heavy and above my head on the pillow and I was on my stomach and I couldn't make them grab the phone. Instead, I was just chasing the phone around the bedside table with completely numb arms and hands that couldn't make out what they were feeling waiting for them to come back to life and stop weighing me down.


That was how our days in Varkala started.
Actually, our time in Varkala started the night before by taking advantage of the 5pm to 10pm happy hour(s??) and ordering Jamaica Mama's and Hawaiian Honey's in hammock chairs on a cliff overlooking the Arabian Sea to reward ourselves for riding 3 buses in one day for 7 hours to the other side of the state. From the mountains to the sea.

Varkala is a beautiful spot. But Varkala has made a spot for itself in Lonely Planet and all of Europe recognizes its presence and it feels very, very, very unauthentic.
 There were no Indians here, relaxing on the beach on vacay. We can't even wear tank tops, much less should we wear shorts or bathing suits. We could here, because it is basically a European beach. but still, when one dumb European lady, who apparently did not read her Indian etiquette book, took off her bathing suit top... I felt bad that I was being so... not Indian and respecting and understanding culture and sitting on this beach in a little blue bathing suit.

I mean, we had a lady sing to us on the beach and slice us a pineapple and we stayed in a bamboo hut for $16 dollars a night.

 But we also got vanilla lattes and chicken sandwiches and Bob Marley and made a nice dent in our shopping lists.
Actually, this is the off season, so no tourists means we could name all of our own prices, because the vendors will take anything you give them as long as they make some money that day. So we did. And we walked around proud owners of lots of fun things.
I mean, where else can you limit yourself to $20 and walk away with 2 shirts, a dress, a bathing suit, an incense holder, hanging birds, a pair of pants and a scarf?

I got up the first morning and as soon as my arms reattached themselves to my body, I went for walk.
Maybe this was a mistake, because it was like 8 am and already absolutely sweltering and I was melting in my own skin but I got some pictures before the space was invaded by Europeans.

Interestingly enough, I was asked, (est.) 3 times if I was Russian. Apparently I dress like a Russian woman? Compliment?

No, our dress was decidedly hippish, maybe due to the environment... I mean, we bought scarves specifically to wrap around our heads...

So yea, we spent a day and a half here, eating familiar if completely bland food, drinking smoothies, shopping, playing in the ocean and only eating at restaurants where we could sit directly under a fan. Every place had a great view - mutiple stories with great big comfy chairs.

That is what we did most of the time - drink smoothies under fans at tables overlooking the water. We spent an hour and a half on the beach and about died, plus Riane almost killed a crab that was hiding under her shoe. When the day results in death, we find other things to do.

Poor Mr. Crab!

Hiii from Varkala!

 

 beach huts

So then, after one more yummy smoothie, we headed out of Varkala on a train to the tip of India, Kanyakumari.

We rode the train and I kept saying "lookit! lookit!" because out in India on a train as the sun is going down, there is a lot to see.
We were racing the world, racing time to get to Kanyakumari - we wanted to see the sunset.

Then we were there!
We were at the tip of India, where the sun rises in the same place the sun sets, and the Arabian Sea, the Indian Ocean, and the Bay of Bengal all mingle and laugh over rocks.
We were greeted with small alleys and bouncing music and children dancing and clothes hanging on the line but it was dark, so we grabbed dinner and gabbed all night long and watched a movie in the hotel room.

Then we got up at the ungodly hour of 5:30 to watch the sunrise and did some minor tourism action before packing it up and hopping another bus/train combo to Ernakulam.

All in all, Kanyakumari, for being the tip of India, was really disappointing.  We felt really uncomfortable - there were a lot of beggars, and lots of people without limbs, which is not unusual in India, but you couldn't get away from it, and the town was very dirty.
BUT the reason we were there was because we wanted to reach the tip of India and say we had been there - and we made it! How cool is that!
Success and Happiness!

And we were there for less than 18 hours, but here is what we saw:

wake up sleepy town

The ocean meets the sea meets the bay meets the Little Mermaid

We had a sing-a-long session ("look at this stuff, isn't it neat? wouldn't you think my collection's complete? I've got gadgets and gizmos a-plenty, I've got whozits and whatzits galore..") at these memorials:

Indians have no concept of personal space, so getting to these places by boat, standing in a line was absolutely ridiculous.  Everyone is in such a race to get everywhere, so cutting the queue is just a game played by all. This is Riane getting spooned from behind as this woman, I suppose, tries to nudge Riane and give her the hinthint that she wants through, in front of us. (This woman has no clue we are tots making fun of her. In fact, is she smiling?? maybe it is due to the fact that she has the worlds largest bindi on her head and she is touching an American--> "Barack Obama!"):

I was being a tad more aggressive - the man who was trying to get in front of me had an elbow in his stomach. He did not give up, for some odd reason, and continued to press against me. I suppose he was trying to make me break down... what he didn't know is that my first word was "no" and I was the proud owner of a Shetland pony that I matched wits with a number of times.

I am not weak, India.

happy travelers.

so then, yea. we hopped another bus and another train back to Ernakulam where we would catch a cab to our plane back to Hyderabad. Our trip was coming to an end.

But, only after we had one more delicious pile of Kerala Paratha.

and when I see you, I really see you upside down

This is me lying on top of tea bushes in Munnar, tea capital, I'm sure, of the world.

We had this crazy rickshaw driver/personal paparazzi who took us all around Munnar, which is a really really cool (literally, the air was cool here. we needed blankets at night.) place in the Western Ghats of Kerala.
Munnar is owned by Tata, the biggest company in India. They have 15,000 people working in the 3 or 4 tea plantations in Munnar over like... 5 mountains.
It was probably my favorite place, although the food was much better in other places we stayed.

It reminded me of home - mountains, trees, clean air.

We took a stifling, terrifying, hysterical bus ride in the dark up and around the mountains to get here.
We had one of those moments where we hit one bump and we just couldn't stop laughing - everyone in the bus was staring at the 2 white females who were howling in the back of the bus.
It was a pretty good moment.

The first thing I did was pitch a fit my two mothers (real Mom, and then Su-mama) would be proud of, when we entered our hotel room and found it positively swarming with malaria filled mosquitoes. They tried to tell us that mosquitoes don't bite, really, and here are all the tactics to get rid of them.
I threatened to leave, and actually booked another hotel for the next night, but eventually got us upgraded to a top level room with not as many bugs.

Our rickshaw driver took us everywhere and it was pretty cool to have someone else document our day out for us, in pretty clever ways. Now we have evidence - see! we really did go to India and we can prove it with our pictures!

Ground tea leaves

There were lots of carrots here too... Riane bought some and ates dem str8t.

hahah he wanted us to jump off this rock in front a honey bee tree. I love Riane in this photo. 

We rode an elephant!! Jungle Safari Allyn and Riane.

Then I found home! Mountains! Lakes! Boats!

We learned how to drive rickshaws!

and we scaled mountain faces

and hugged tall trees

And then we ended up in Switzerland??

We never thought India would look like this.

Really, Munnar was beautiful and we were walking through a farmish place where there were homes and children playing with sprinklers and moms picking cabbage and men herding cow and sheep and a stream and mountains and it was all gorgeous and happy and we loved it there.

ahahaha how hysterical/creepy is this?

He literally picked us up and put us on top of tea plants. and then had a fashion model shoot.

Werk it, gurl.

Anywho, great place for a photo shoot.

The day ended shortly after that and we me a couple of Indian guys and used them for a free ride down the mountain, even though I was so sleepy/carsick the whole time - they were entertaining. From Delhi, Bihar and Nepal, one of them owns a Nepal goods store in South Wales and was on vacay. They bought us lunch and because they were travel agents, so they got us a hotel and massages, both for half off.

They also got us lost and in trouble in a tiger reserve, which Riane and I found the way out of. Then they got in trouble for giving us a ride and such by the car owner, so we snubbed 'em and hopped on a bus for 7 hours to the coast to Varkala - European beach heaven.

My bag broke about this time and I had to buy a new one - which I locked, and promptly lost the key to the lock and had to rip it open anyways. This only truly became an issue once we got back to the airport on the way home.

Ok, I'm writing the blog about Kerala.

Although I know it won't be, I will try to keep these blogs rather to the point, and really only about the trip. I don't really like merely recounting my days and experiences, but rather talking about them... Since that is rather impossible when we were gone for 10 days, I'll just give you the rundown, instead of life. Maybe add a few thoughts here and there.

The downlow:
Riane and I took off, just the two of us, to travel India's most southern state, Kerala. Kerala is a communist state, originally founded by the Portuguese, so it is super Christian-ish and has a cute European feel in a lot of its places, which was a little unexpected.
Kerala is known as "God's own country" and we had to explore it!


Destination 1 - Cochin
We get to airport and our flight is canceled. We hop aboard another plane.
We like planes and small bottles of water, so it's all good.

Behind us is a group of creeper guys that all took turns going to the bathroom to really relocate to the seats across from us so they can stare and take pictures of us. In the airport and on the plane.

We arrive in Fort Cochin, Kerala and put our bags down at a super cute homestay- i-one's (the big draw was the BIG BALCONY) - owned by an Indian man - Ivan Joseph - and his family.
Such an Indian name...

A few pics of what we found in Fort Cochin:

Sunset. Which is strange because thinking about this picture... The sunset should have been behind me, not east, the direction I am looking in.

Men catch fish and then sell them on the street. They let you pick your fish, then they take it to a restaurant and cook it for you. Riane tried this.

She's gross.

Then we went back to our cute homestay and slept in the billion degree weather.

And got up for a bike ride and day of touring Cochin - Chinese fishing nets, trees, restaurants, Jew Town, the Basilica and St. Francis Church, martial arts, coffee with a bunch of Europeans and Kathakali, the dance of Kerala (that one rickshaw driver told us all Keralans hate because it is all hand and face movements and super long. They go see Kathakali performances when they want to go to sleep. He was right. We got pretty bored, and as a dancer and supporter of traditional arts and forms of self expression, I really do not like saying that. But yea, sanskrit epics (6 hours long) are not very active and therefore, not the best source of entertainment.

 We found a bright purple wall while eating our breakfast of fresh cut pineapple.

The Basilica. Our homestay was behind here.

It was a beautiful place, but there was a woman sobbing inside and it broke my heart to hear her. I don't know what she was saying, but she was hurting, badly. And I just stood there snapping pictures.

And it never fails. Even if this woman hadn't been crying, I would have been crying. Every time I step into a sacred place, I just can't help but tear up for reasons unknown. It must be very startling for the people around me to turn around and see me crying for no apparent reasons.

St. Francis Church. The Gideons gave us the New Testament in Hindi.

This was a very awkward moment in our lives - we were two of the 4 females in the entire room watching this show. These outfits wrapped around the guys crotches and every time they stood at the end of the stage to bow to us before they did anything, their crotch was always directly eye level.

Awkward. but the stuff they showed was pretty cool.

Coffee and Lonely Planet consultation time at a restaurant Lonely Planet suggested. 

(i-one, our homestay owner, really wanted us to recommend him as a good homestay. good enough to be in the "tour books you look" which meant Lonely Planet. Nobody goes anywhere without Lonely Planet. We said we would recommend him, and we can! Because Riane is friends with the India Lonely Planet writer over Twitter.)

This baby's mother kept putting him really far away for no apparent reason.

Kathakali performance - elaborate. They spent an hour doing makeup on stage.

I am taking this picture from one of these! Backwater tour in Cochin.

Canals we traveled through.

Kerala is HOT. In Hyderabad, it gets up to like 103 degrees in the afternoon. It's so hot that our bike stands create little melted cement holes in the parking lot. Now add 50% more humidity and that is Kerala, especially Kerala's coast.

We loved Cochin (we wondered if it was because it was European-esq and so put it out of mind with the promise we would head to Europe soon) but our next destination was in the Western Ghats of India, where it was cool and beautiful - Munnar, a beautiful bustling little mountain town.

Ugh, I'm tired. I started this at 10 at night, rather than spend all Sunday doing it and so I will do it tomorrow.

I hope it will get more interesting, but that just depends on how much time in the world I think I have to share every moment, every detail, every thought that I can recount.