People and Places
The reason for our Delhi visit was to participate in an e-learning
workshop to review progress being made in a recently-granted
initiative of the International Spinal Cord Association (ISCoS) which both of
us and other members of ISCoS have been working on over the last year. The aim
is for ISCoS to carry free online education regarding spinal cord injury (SCI)
on its web site. The process in Delhi was for each faculty member to present
what will become his/her module in the e-learning curriculum to an audience of
mostly-Indian doctors and therapists who have had experience and interest (but not
necessarily any formal education) in the topic. All faculty attended as many of these
presentations as possible (there were several parallel streams running
simultaneously at times), and, following each half-day of teaching, a curriculum “editorial” review meeting was held. The weekend was surprisingly
pleasurable for a project of this nature, thanks to great support provided by
the Indian Spinal Injuries Centre (ISIC) in Delhi, led by its director, spine surgeon
Dr Harvinder Chhabra. Dr C created a cooperative,
supportive atmosphere in which 20 strong personalities (some would say
headstrong) from within the small international community of SCI specialists,
all with definite opinions about what should be taught, how and to whom, felt free to
criticise and be criticised by each other, with input from attendeesmostly from around
India.
For us, the meeting in Delhi was enhanced by the attendance
of three young Nepalese friends: our “mentee” (if we’re his mentors, doesn’t
that make him our “mentee”?), Dr Raju, his fiancée Sheela (a social scientist
in training) and Dr Nabina, the recent medicine graduate currently working at SIRC whom
we had got to know quite well as we worked with her and the Swiss team in
Kathmandu (see last chapter). We were especially proud to have Raju as a participant
in the e-learning editorial group. He has recently started a five-year
residency in rehabilitation medicine, Claire’s specialty, (some of you are
actively supporting his education, as well as that of Dr. Prakash…see previous
chapter….) at BSMMU in Dhaka – Bangladesh’s first and only medical university. The
university has a well-drafted curriculum and seems to be particularly
supportive of Dr. Raju. He has moved into an apartment with a junior neurology
resident and showed us photos of his friends and the place he is living. There
is a good spinal cord injury centre in Dhaka and we hope he will get to know
the team there over the next few years.
Interestingly, after Kathmandu, where motorcycle helmets are just gaining acceptance, we noted that they are used universally in Delhi (enforcement) and that there is now a push for passengers to wear them (not seen to be "cool" otherwise). On the contrary, we saw no one wearing helmets in Aurangabad (see later).
Interestingly, after Kathmandu, where motorcycle helmets are just gaining acceptance, we noted that they are used universally in Delhi (enforcement) and that there is now a push for passengers to wear them (not seen to be "cool" otherwise). On the contrary, we saw no one wearing helmets in Aurangabad (see later).
The remainder of our time in India was purely recreational:
In the three days between the end of our commitments in
Kathmandu and the beginning of the Delhi workshop, we visited Varanasi (aka
Benares), a holy pilgrimage destination on the Ganges for Hindus. We had found
a delightful smaller hotel on one of the ghats looking out over the river,
run by an interesting man whose family had owned the house for generations.
He being a Jain, the hotel offered a purely vegetarian menu that
excluded even onions and garlic, which suited us well. We were joined here by
our close friend Naomi from New York who had been able to get away at fairly
short notice (Shimon, her husband, was not so fortunate). Claire and I both had
our only – and minor – GI upsets here. Our Aquatab treatment of all our water and
the use of Pepto-Bismol before meals seemed to help except for this. Peter’s
discomfort passed rapidly, but Claire took some of Naomi’s Oil of Oregano for
what was really just a slight rumbling of the gut. Folks, the dose (if you really
feel it might do you any good!) is 2, not 20, drops in a glass of water (there
is no dose information on the bottle, and Naomi incorrectly remembered dosage
information!). Claire lost a day of her life to projectile vomiting and feeling
like hell! The rumbling of the gut, however, was gone when she recovered from
the poisoning, and she only had to wait for two days for her peeling lips to
heal!
We took boats down the Ganges both at sunrise – a lovely
peaceful time of day - and to see the exciting fire ceremonies at night. Naomi
and Claire spent time being guided around the Golden Temple. Pushed, pulled,
prodded and sweat-upon by an unbelievably dense crowd of frenzied believers,
they would never, ever have been admitted to the temple, let alone gotten the
chance to see and touch the sacred Shiva lingam (generative symbol for Hindus) at
the temple’s core without the firm guidance of a local Hindu priest who
accepted, but didn’t demand, a donation for his services. (For further
description of surging, dense, fervent crowds, see tale, below, of the Pooram
at Thrissur.)
We had been to India before so were not new to its bustle,
its crowds, aromatic and spicy food and so on. Nonetheless we were still amazed by the vivid
colours of women's clothing, as no two saris or kurthas worn by women seem to be alike,
all are beautiful, none were black or grey (Naomi opined that in India, orange
is our basic black!). It must be the most flattering garment a woman could
wear, even when working on farms.The food we had was mostly vegetarian, much of it too
spicy for P but never a problem as there were always some mild dishes and lots
of tongue-calming rice and curd. We had many different forms of rice - steamed,
in logs (puttu), breakfast pancakes with names like dosa, idli and udapam, different
colours and styles of dal, sambal, fenugreek leaf and other Maharathi food
items. The weather was uniformly hot, around 40Deg + in Delhi, somewhat cooler
but with very high humidity in the southern state of Kerala where we could find
ourselves drenched with sweat within minutes of walking outside. For us softies, air
conditioned rooms, when we could get them, provided relief, although it was
always nice to step out into the warmth of early morning to listen to the birds,
even in polluted Delhi.
From Delhi the three of us flew south to Kerala, the state
south of Goa, on the Arabian sea West coast of the country. It seems to be a state in which three quite disparate religious communities
live in harmony, only vying for visible presence with their religious
buildings. Where we were, there was a definite preponderance of mosques, mostly
painted a rather garish shade of lime green. The Christian community, more
obvious close to the Kerala capitol of Kochi, advertised its presence with
enormous, brilliant-white prosperous-looking churches and cathedrals. We
actually saw little architectural evidence of the Hindu community, reportedly
the (invisible?) majority.
Our itinerary in Kerala was set up as a tour for the 3 of us
by Blue Yonder, a company mentioned
in the Lonely Planet Guide, the first time for us to take such a tour. We
corresponded with them from Nepal expressing our wish to attend the annual
Pooram – Hindu Festival – in Thrissur, and identifying other sites of interest, and they put ogether a great trip for us. It included pickup by a driver and an air-conditioned
car which was available to us for the entire time, accommodation in some lovely
hotels and homes, customised trips to see artisans and enjoy local musicians.
The Thrissur Pooram is reputed to have 1-1.5 million
attendees. Not knowing what a crowd that size looks like, we could not confirm
the number but there were certainly more people, more densely packed than we
have ever experienced, including the Golden Temple in Varanasi, Times Square NY
on New Years’ eves of yore, and the NY City and Tokyo subway rush hours! There
was a lot of (to us) cacophonous “music” (P stuffed his ears with toilet paper,
thus likely preserving his fine sense of hearing, Claire’s having long ago
succumbed to the various auditory assaults of childhood and adolescence in New
York.) A number of (to us) very odd
instruments in bands usually accompanied the slow procession of decorated
elephants, each with three mahouts on their backs and another three guiding from ground level. There were
small groups of musicians jamming, and sporadic large firecrackers being set off.
We were amazed by the helpfulness and friendliness of people in the midst of the crush, and we enjoyed a sense of comfort even in a pressing crowd. Heat, noise, and loss of fluid from sweating were issues there and conscious fluid replacement was essential, as our sense of thirst seemed diminished.( In fact, the only way we figure you can fully appreciate this blog is to read it in a sauna set for “maximum”.) The festival runs without interruption for about 36 hours, with fireworks between about 2 and 4 am, more sound than light, and giving the aural impression of the bombing of Baghdad. The main purpose of the festival seemed to be the face-off between 2 opposing lines of lines of 10-11 elephants each guided by mahouts and their elephant-riding assistants who hoisted increasingly elaborate ornamental umbrellas, changed every few minutes, the leader in each heat being greeted by enthusiastic roars from the crowd (us). Claire expressed the thought that it would be wonderful if all our human disagreements could be resolved by a peace process consisting of hoisting decorative umbrellas at each other at a distance of 200 metres!
We were amazed by the helpfulness and friendliness of people in the midst of the crush, and we enjoyed a sense of comfort even in a pressing crowd. Heat, noise, and loss of fluid from sweating were issues there and conscious fluid replacement was essential, as our sense of thirst seemed diminished.( In fact, the only way we figure you can fully appreciate this blog is to read it in a sauna set for “maximum”.) The festival runs without interruption for about 36 hours, with fireworks between about 2 and 4 am, more sound than light, and giving the aural impression of the bombing of Baghdad. The main purpose of the festival seemed to be the face-off between 2 opposing lines of lines of 10-11 elephants each guided by mahouts and their elephant-riding assistants who hoisted increasingly elaborate ornamental umbrellas, changed every few minutes, the leader in each heat being greeted by enthusiastic roars from the crowd (us). Claire expressed the thought that it would be wonderful if all our human disagreements could be resolved by a peace process consisting of hoisting decorative umbrellas at each other at a distance of 200 metres!
We followed this denervating, exhilarating experience with
two quiet days at the River
Retreat, a resort with a pool (heaven!) on the banks of the River Nila,
offering wonderful oil-oversaturated Ayurvedic massages (getting off the stone
massage table, dripping oil, was a death-defying activity). From here we
visited local weavers, a potter, and the Vayali
music group, dedicated to reconstructing some of the Kerala performing
arts.
Some wonderful people we met:
Namboo and Uma – Our hosts in the first home stay were
completely delightful, seemingly born into the hospitality “industry”. Retirees
now living in a 350 year old red laterite stone house built around a small
courtyard in a village near Uma’s family place, they invited us into their
lovely home with a wonderful lunch of Keralan and North Indian specialties and
warm, inviting chat. Later we were led to a tree house looking out over the
rice paddies where we snoozed in the heat of the day until woken by delivery of
freshly-squeezed mango juice. The peace was only mildly disturbed by a small
pack of dogs that made off with Naomi’s shoes and, later, Peter’s hat. It was Namboo
and Uma who invited us to the Khatakali night, and their daughter Nibha who
introduced us to the Mudras.
We were indeed fortunate to arrive in time for an evening of
Kathakali dance – beginning at about 7 pm with a 2-3 hour session of applying
makeup (chutti) and costumes.
This was at a neighbour’s house to celebrate a 60th birthday. The
show was held in a backyard tent set up for this, first providing a simple but
delightful dinner to 60 or 70 guests or more. The troupe included about 6 actors,
several makeup specialists, several dressers, drummers and two singers. The
show began with an ‘audition’ piece (by two young performers, one a 12 year old
girl) at about 9:30 and followed by three major pieces, all with hundreds of
years of tradition behind them, telling various stories from the Ramayama and
Mahabarata. The audience knows the stories, the music, the characters, their
makeup; surprise and twist endings are decidedly not part of the deal We
arrived at about 7PM, and makeup was still being applied, a 2-4 hour process,
including the grinding of pigments! We held out until about 3 AM, but the
performance went on until after 5! The author, Arundhati Roy said, in The
God of Small Things, that "It didn't matter that the story had begun,
because Kathakali discovered long ago that the secret of the Great Stories is
that they have no secrets. The Great Stories are the ones you have heard and
want to hear again. The ones you can enter anywhere and inhabit comfortably.
They don't deceive you with thrills and trick endings."
We were fortunate to have some explanations of the plot
during the show from Kathakali master Sasi, an intriguing man from whom we
would love to have learned more (you can read about him at http://kottakkalsasidharan.com/biography.html).
His web site also gives you an idea of the style of the hand movements known as
mudras, done in a wonderful rhythmic style accompanied by specialised
drummer http://kottakkalsasidharan.com/kathakali_handmudras.html
which you can see him demonstrate at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=87NIT8u-izY
Praveen and Vydia were our hosts at Maranat
Mana, our next home stay, an old “16-verandah” farmhouse-temple house, so described because it
is built around four separate courtyards each surrounded by 4 verandahs.
Praveen told us about his midlife change in career from that of an officer in
the merchant marine to farmer on land owned by his family, a decision made with the help of the family
astrologer; the horoscope featuring prominently in decision-making in Hindu
families. Kerala has had for several decades a democratically-elected communist
state government, interesting especially because it is the state with the
highest literacy rate and apparently the most prosperous one in India. The estate had
lost some of its lands when they were (peacefully!) distributed among the farm
labourers who had previously worked the land, but Praveen’s family had been able to hold on to
enough land to make the move to rubber farming and other crops. A few cattle
were kept for milk production and because their excreta could be converted to
biogas used for cooking. Other crops include nutmeg and mangoes. Vydia is a
school teacher in the school started and run by the family.
Our last Blue Yonder stop was Ourland near Aleppey, where we transferred
from our car to an auto rickshaw because the road through the rice paddies was too
narrow, thence to a canoe to the island where another great Keralan meal awaited
us, along with a gracious welcome. A short canoe trip and swimming in the river
brought us to the end of another fulfilling day. Early the next morning, we walked along the
network of canals, some, sadly, almost completely blocked by the spreading of
beautiful-but-life-depriving water hyacinths. Later, we enjoyed a personal languorous
day-long houseboat cruise on the famous backwaters near Kochi, an area known as
the Venice of the east. What luxury!
Our last (brief) stop was Kochi, to admire the Chinese
fishing nets as the sun set over the Arabian Sea. Naomi had spent the day here
while we braved the Pooram and recommends the Folk Art Museum and other
institutions at Fort Kochi, the historic part of town.
The next morning we flew to Mumbai, taking a taxi in to the
architecturally stunning Victoria Railroad Terminus. We were less than
adventurous for lunch – a McDonalds (!!!) spicy paneer wrap. The train trip to
Aurangabad was in the ‘3AC’ class, sharing our compartment with two gents, one
an otolaryngologist who decried the kickbacks expected by referring GPs (and
outlawed in the west some decades ago). They kindly thrust upon us whiskey and various tasty tidbits, and helped us make arrangements for a car and driver for the next two days as we
visited the historic decorated caves at Ellora and Ajanta. Arriving late in Aurangabad
we slept in the railway station waiting room (the ‘retiring rooms’ were full),
then met our driver to head off to Ellora, where truly amazing caves have been carved
into a cliff-face, each representing places of worship for Buddhist, Jain or Hindu believers. We were the “exotics” here - everyone wanted a photo of and with us, and
it was sometimes difficult to get away – not that we really wanted to, as
everyone was so sweet: “What is your name; where do you come from?” Their names
were difficult for us to pronounce, and ours seemed challenging to them! We
next visited the famous. older-than-Ellora, Ajanta caves which feature not only
amazing sculpture, but also some of the best-preserved frescoes from the late pre-
and early Christian era. Astonishing!
After our night sleeping in the Aurangabad railway station,
we were a bit disappointed by the very basic hostel accommodation where we spent the next
night, but we were rewarded in the morning by meeting some wonderful people
visiting from Andra Pradesh, all of course, wanting photos taken with and by us! We spent
our last two nights in India, decadently, at the Lemon Tree hotel in
Aurangabad, a place of comfort, air conditioning, hot showers, fabulous food,
helpful English-speaking staff, and an enormous pool that drew us in morning
and evening each day. One cook in particular, Manas, was truly charming when he
came out to explain local dishes to us and has since sent us several of his
recipes!
From there, it was back to Delhi where our wonderful hosts at the Indian Spinal Injury Centre met us at the airport, happy, tired, and ready to go home. They took us back to the centre to repack (they had kept our bags for us), brought us dinner, gave us the opportunity to for a short sleep, before driving us back to the airport for our 2:30 AM departure for our long flights home.
From there, it was back to Delhi where our wonderful hosts at the Indian Spinal Injury Centre met us at the airport, happy, tired, and ready to go home. They took us back to the centre to repack (they had kept our bags for us), brought us dinner, gave us the opportunity to for a short sleep, before driving us back to the airport for our 2:30 AM departure for our long flights home.
What a trip! If you have the fortitude, there is a
partly-reduced gallery of all our travel photos on our Smugmug site at http://peterandclaire.smugmug.com/Travel/Nepal-India-2012/22644263_cJNLWC
For those of you who are supporting the work we are doing with our young protégés, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts, as do they! Here is the link to the photos about our visit to Kathmandu and the work in the Spinal Injury Rehabilitation Centre: http://peterandclaire.smugmug.com/Travel/SIRC-April-2012/22267282_2TcSxb
If you've made it this far, thanks for your interest and perseverance!
Claire and Peter
For those of you who are supporting the work we are doing with our young protégés, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts, as do they! Here is the link to the photos about our visit to Kathmandu and the work in the Spinal Injury Rehabilitation Centre: http://peterandclaire.smugmug.com/Travel/SIRC-April-2012/22267282_2TcSxb
If you've made it this far, thanks for your interest and perseverance!
Claire and Peter