Entering Kerala-Hindi songs, meeting Kavitha ji and the best compliment i ever got!
I woke up at Mangalore station. Mangalore was to be the last station in state of Karnataka. After this Kerala would start. Thrissur was to come by 12.30pm.
The beggar in the train, was singing an old hindi song. That was totally unexpected and the only reason I could think of was that this beggar was not from Kerala, but from north. I wanted to ask them, but did not. I was conscious, of what people will think of me. I still have the feeling conscious thing left in me. Sometimes I gather courage and do things without bothering much, but sometime like here, I dont take that step.
Around 11.30 I got a call from Abey. He asked me to get down at Shoranur Jn, which was one station before Thrissur. He told me to take a bus from there for Thrissur. His home falls on the Shoranur-Thrissur road. The train had entered Shoranur city and was about to reach the station. I just had a few minutes to pack my stuff and get down.
When I got down, I remembered Kavitha ji was suppose to be here too. She had been coming from
I got the Thrissur bus, just outside the station. Language was to be a problem here. I had to explain the conductor that I need to get down at Vellapaya before Thrissur. I decided to right the key words on a chit of paper and show it to him.
I wrote: Shoranur Station---> Thrissur bus---> vellapaya
He read that and understood. He said something in Malayalam, which I had no clue of, but I understood what he meant. He was assuring me not to worry. He would let me know, when my stop comes.
This was my first bus ride in Kerala. Here they dont have glass windows. They have kind of a shutter on windows. When it rains, the shutter is pulled down, and otherwise the whole thing is open. The reason for this is, that Kerala can be very humid. Glass would be a very bad material to use to humid climate, especially when you have 50 people sitting in the bus and perspiring. You need a lot of breeze, wind.
I got down at Vellapaya, and took an auto to KILA (Kerala Institute of Local Administration). This is where Abey George works. The guard at the gate, without me saying anything asked me if I was Harsha? yes I am, I said smiling. He said something, which meant follow me. He took me straight into the mess for lunch. He told the lady there, that Im guest of Abey saar, and that Im a vegetarian. The lady served me lunch. It had rice, along with 5-6 other items. All seemed familiar except one. I asked, what that was. Fish, she said. In this part of
Then came Abey. I was so happy to see him. He asked me to finish the food fast and then accompany him to a meeting with the local Panchayat. In the car were Jyothi and Arunima. I had met jyothi just once earlier about 10 years back. She had come to her house, and my mom was very happy to know that Abey found his partner. My mom was always worried about him. For me Abey had always been my hero. He was a student of my mom and so would visit our house almost everyday. There he would have long discussions with my father on issues of development, modernity,culture,environment,gandhi and all that. And I would just sit with them and listen. He then one day left for Narmada Bachao Andolan. He returned after a few months, to complete his Phd. He had been my hero since then. We were meeting after 10 years now. I was meeting Arunima, their daughter for the first time. She was 3 years old, and had probably for the first time seen a guy from north.
We all went to the Panchayat office for the meeting. In Kerala, 33% of the state budget is directly distributed to the village panchayat. And so as a result, the panchayats are very strong here. Though most Panchayats either waste the money or spend on the usual things like making roads and all, but for some one who is looking to do good work, alternative work, there is scope. Abey, with this panchayat was working to revive the traditional water harvesting model. Over the years, as a result of concretization, the water table in entire Kerala has gone down. To recover that, water harvesting can prove vital. And so in this regard was this meeting.
I was also happy to know, that his son Adityan who is 6 years old, studies in the village school in Malayalam medium. Which other professor would send his child to a village school? No one does. English medium is what everyone looks for. To see Adityan, was again a sense of reassuring.
The whole evening I spent playing with Adityan and Arunima. Adityan could manage a few english words, while Arunima just talked straight to me in Malayalam. I would not understand a word she would say, but she would still continue to talk. And the only response I had was "..uhh, ha". Sometimes it would be really funny too. Arunima asked me (in Malayalam of course) if I would want to have bath in hot water or cold water? My response was the same, "....uhh, ha". she then ran to her mom in the kitchen and said what kind of answer is that. When Jyothi told me all this, we all laughed loud, with Arunima wondering what is so funny.
Abey was to leave by 11.30 train for Thiruanandpuram. He was to spend a day there and then return the day after. So I had only a couple of hours to talk to him, before he returns. Our conversation started on an unexpected note. He wasn't too happy for the fact that I was taking up Phd. He didnt think much of doing Phds and academicians and also thought that Im taking a big jump from Electronics Engg to Humanities, Indian culture and all that. We had a serious, sometimes heated discussion. In the end we had to stop it, as it was getting late, and he was to get ready. Just as our discussion ended, he said to Jyothi "you know what, he reminds me of Satya ji (my father). The way he speaks, what he speaks, the way he stands everything". I was moved, speechless. We were all quiet for a few seconds. I guess no one knew what to say. It was the best compliment I had ever received in my life. I thought of my mom.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Trip to Konkan & Kerela- Day 6
Trip to Konkan & Kerela- Day 5
I had a train for Thrissur in the night today. The train was from Madgaon. I had planned to spend the day in Panjim, and then take a bus to Madgoan in the evening. The train was at 11.30 in the night.
In the morning, Kanwarjit's uncle and his cousin arrived. Both of them were sikhs. I thought I would ask Kanwarjit, at a suitable time, why he is not a sikh, why he cut his hair? The effects of sikh riots in '84 and then the militancy in Punjab can still be seen. I never found that right moment, where I could have asked this to Kanwarjit. I guess, our friendship still need to build more, before I could ask this.
The whole morning we sat in the kitchen and talked, while it drizzled outside. I must have told Yashoda and Kanwarjit, how happy and inspired I was to see them,their lifestyle. I just felt like telling this to them. Their's was life, I had always thought of living. They slept on the floor, ate on the floor, ate with hands, cooked for themselves, cleaned their house themselves, had no TV. Seeing them, I felt reassured. I felt, yes I wasn't dreaming something unreal. Such a life is possible, and can be lived. There are people living like this. And they are proud of themselves. I was proud of them too.
I asked Kanwarjit, how he managed his finances."Money has always been an issue", he said. But there was no remorse in his voice. It was like saying, although he his struggling for living, but he his happy that he took this life. This was a live example in front of me, where money is a problem, but its not a hindrance to their happiness, to their sense of achievement, to their commitment to nature and society. Its no big deal in the end. I always knew all that in theory, but to see it practically was reassuring.
In the afternoon I went to Panjim city. Went to the Miramar beach again and sat there. Not many people were there at that time of the day. Sometimes I was all alone. The sea was rough. At a distance there were few boys playing football. This is one of the few places in India, where cricket is not seen. I haven't seen anyone in Goa play cricket. Football yes. I found a cyber cafe near Miramar. I had to write a blog. There was so much in me, I had to write all that.
I found Artee online on gtalk. She told me, she has a friend who works in Panjim and gave me her phone number. I called Sharon, told her my name is Harsh and I got your number from Artee. We decided to meet at 3.30 at some restaurant near the boathouse. All this while she kept calling me 'Hari' or 'Harish'. I wanted to correct her, but just felt shy.
I waited outside the Mandovi restaurant, waiting for Sharon to arrive. I would at every woman passing by and wonder if that was her. I had told Sharon, that I m wearing a Khadi Kurta and blue Jeans, so that it would be easy for her to recognize me. I guess, in Panjim I was the only guy in that outfit. Not many people wear a Kurta in the cities. Well, she came and she recognized me. One just needs to look and smile, and not say anything. We then went to this one of the rare vegetarian restaurants. While I had Paav bhaji, Sharon had tea.
At 5.00 I had to reach Kala Academy, where Kanwarjit would meet me along with his son Anant. Anant takes his flute lessons there. There were a lot of children there coming for music or dance lessons. While Anant went for his classes, Kanwarjit and I sat outside talking. It had finally started raining now, the kind of rain I came looking for. Kanwarjit had brought some old puzzles and books which Anant had used. I was to take them to Thrissur for Abey's kids. The idea of passing on the toys from elders to someone young seemed so sensible to me. I always used, toys of my cousins, cricket bat, hockey stick, carrom board etc. Every child in the city need not buy a toy. But then what will happen to the market, to the shops, to the factories?? I can just smile at that....
I took a 7.00 pm shuttle to Madgaon. Roamed around the markets there and then walked to the station. In Madgaon, I saw my first slum in Goa. It was a cluster of 5 houses in between the Apollo hospital and station. The thought of whole Goa being slum free felt so good, but also seemed impossible. I was at the station at 9.30. While entering it, the guards thoroughly checked me and my stuff. They checked my ticket and asked me all sorts of questions. I felt that little sense of fear in me, although I knew I was clean. Why did they pick me out of many others? I still dont know.
My train, Netravati express came on time at 11.30. It had been a long day and I was tired. I just crashed into my birth.
In the morning, Kanwarjit's uncle and his cousin arrived. Both of them were sikhs. I thought I would ask Kanwarjit, at a suitable time, why he is not a sikh, why he cut his hair? The effects of sikh riots in '84 and then the militancy in Punjab can still be seen. I never found that right moment, where I could have asked this to Kanwarjit. I guess, our friendship still need to build more, before I could ask this.
The whole morning we sat in the kitchen and talked, while it drizzled outside. I must have told Yashoda and Kanwarjit, how happy and inspired I was to see them,their lifestyle. I just felt like telling this to them. Their's was life, I had always thought of living. They slept on the floor, ate on the floor, ate with hands, cooked for themselves, cleaned their house themselves, had no TV. Seeing them, I felt reassured. I felt, yes I wasn't dreaming something unreal. Such a life is possible, and can be lived. There are people living like this. And they are proud of themselves. I was proud of them too.
I asked Kanwarjit, how he managed his finances."Money has always been an issue", he said. But there was no remorse in his voice. It was like saying, although he his struggling for living, but he his happy that he took this life. This was a live example in front of me, where money is a problem, but its not a hindrance to their happiness, to their sense of achievement, to their commitment to nature and society. Its no big deal in the end. I always knew all that in theory, but to see it practically was reassuring.
In the afternoon I went to Panjim city. Went to the Miramar beach again and sat there. Not many people were there at that time of the day. Sometimes I was all alone. The sea was rough. At a distance there were few boys playing football. This is one of the few places in India, where cricket is not seen. I haven't seen anyone in Goa play cricket. Football yes. I found a cyber cafe near Miramar. I had to write a blog. There was so much in me, I had to write all that.
I found Artee online on gtalk. She told me, she has a friend who works in Panjim and gave me her phone number. I called Sharon, told her my name is Harsh and I got your number from Artee. We decided to meet at 3.30 at some restaurant near the boathouse. All this while she kept calling me 'Hari' or 'Harish'. I wanted to correct her, but just felt shy.
I waited outside the Mandovi restaurant, waiting for Sharon to arrive. I would at every woman passing by and wonder if that was her. I had told Sharon, that I m wearing a Khadi Kurta and blue Jeans, so that it would be easy for her to recognize me. I guess, in Panjim I was the only guy in that outfit. Not many people wear a Kurta in the cities. Well, she came and she recognized me. One just needs to look and smile, and not say anything. We then went to this one of the rare vegetarian restaurants. While I had Paav bhaji, Sharon had tea.
At 5.00 I had to reach Kala Academy, where Kanwarjit would meet me along with his son Anant. Anant takes his flute lessons there. There were a lot of children there coming for music or dance lessons. While Anant went for his classes, Kanwarjit and I sat outside talking. It had finally started raining now, the kind of rain I came looking for. Kanwarjit had brought some old puzzles and books which Anant had used. I was to take them to Thrissur for Abey's kids. The idea of passing on the toys from elders to someone young seemed so sensible to me. I always used, toys of my cousins, cricket bat, hockey stick, carrom board etc. Every child in the city need not buy a toy. But then what will happen to the market, to the shops, to the factories?? I can just smile at that....
I took a 7.00 pm shuttle to Madgaon. Roamed around the markets there and then walked to the station. In Madgaon, I saw my first slum in Goa. It was a cluster of 5 houses in between the Apollo hospital and station. The thought of whole Goa being slum free felt so good, but also seemed impossible. I was at the station at 9.30. While entering it, the guards thoroughly checked me and my stuff. They checked my ticket and asked me all sorts of questions. I felt that little sense of fear in me, although I knew I was clean. Why did they pick me out of many others? I still dont know.
My train, Netravati express came on time at 11.30. It had been a long day and I was tired. I just crashed into my birth.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Trip to Konkan & Kerela- Day 4
At Kudal
In the morning while I woke up I heard the sound of rain. Finally there was some. I have been chasing the rain, but they have been running away from me. I came to Hyderabad from Delhi in the hope that it would rain good,but it did not. Then I took on this trip in the hope of some rain, but it did not. And finally I heard it pouring in the morning. It would be my day today I thought.
When I got up, I realized there was no water. The water did not come and we were careless not to fill a bucket before going to sleep. Bloody hell. I needed to shit badly now that I was off the bed. I could have managed a bath as it was raining outside, but how to manage shitting. I was stuck. The idea of not to shit at all seemed a little too uncomfortable. I thought I could go behind the training centre in the open and use the leaves. But just then I saw an open tank lying in the open. Since it had rained all night, the tank managed to catch hold of some water. And this water would give me liberation.
The breakfast again was that of Vada Paav. Next we went to Konbac office to have a discussion with Sanjeev. As we were to leave today for Goa, we wanted to clear some doubts we had with him before leaving. At his office we saw a familiar face. We seemed familiar too. Hey its the same lady at the resort yesterday. We were so happy to see her again, totally unexpectedly. Her name was Prema, belonged to Delhi and worked with UNDP. Under that she works with many NGOs across the country. One such organization is Pradaan working with tribals of Jhanrkhand and Orissa. Prema was in Konbac to see their bamboo work and see how the tradtional knowledge of the tribals are be made accessible to the market. And so she was here to meet Sanjeev.
Prema too was headed to Goa and she had a cab with her. She offered us a lift and we gladly accepted it.
On our way we stopped at Sawantwadi at a dhaba for lunch. While Prema had a non-veg thali (fish and prawns and mutton, you name it) we had a veg malvani thali. I just tasted a piece of prawn from her thali.
Prema dropped us at Panaji, the capital of Goa. Panaji is on the banks of river Mandovi. We thought to just take a stroll along the river, as it was evening time and then leave for kanwarjit's place. We must have walked for about 40 min, when we reached the sea. It's called the Miramar beach. It is where the river meets the sea, an estuary. I was seeing this for the first time in my life. The slow and quiet meeting of fresh water into the salty water of the sea. We also realized that we had walked across the whole Panaji city.
We then came back to the main bus stand and from there took a bus to Porvorim, where Kanwarjit lives. On the way was a place called Coquirrin, named after a restaurant. Outside the restaurant is a statue of Charles Shobraj seated and handcuffed. I was told be a local that it was here that he was caught for the third time. Charles Shobraj is an infamous murderer and thug, who has number of cases against him in many countries. The India police had caught him twice before and each time he managed to flee from the jail.
In the morning while I woke up I heard the sound of rain. Finally there was some. I have been chasing the rain, but they have been running away from me. I came to Hyderabad from Delhi in the hope that it would rain good,but it did not. Then I took on this trip in the hope of some rain, but it did not. And finally I heard it pouring in the morning. It would be my day today I thought.
When I got up, I realized there was no water. The water did not come and we were careless not to fill a bucket before going to sleep. Bloody hell. I needed to shit badly now that I was off the bed. I could have managed a bath as it was raining outside, but how to manage shitting. I was stuck. The idea of not to shit at all seemed a little too uncomfortable. I thought I could go behind the training centre in the open and use the leaves. But just then I saw an open tank lying in the open. Since it had rained all night, the tank managed to catch hold of some water. And this water would give me liberation.
The breakfast again was that of Vada Paav. Next we went to Konbac office to have a discussion with Sanjeev. As we were to leave today for Goa, we wanted to clear some doubts we had with him before leaving. At his office we saw a familiar face. We seemed familiar too. Hey its the same lady at the resort yesterday. We were so happy to see her again, totally unexpectedly. Her name was Prema, belonged to Delhi and worked with UNDP. Under that she works with many NGOs across the country. One such organization is Pradaan working with tribals of Jhanrkhand and Orissa. Prema was in Konbac to see their bamboo work and see how the tradtional knowledge of the tribals are be made accessible to the market. And so she was here to meet Sanjeev.
Prema too was headed to Goa and she had a cab with her. She offered us a lift and we gladly accepted it.
On our way we stopped at Sawantwadi at a dhaba for lunch. While Prema had a non-veg thali (fish and prawns and mutton, you name it) we had a veg malvani thali. I just tasted a piece of prawn from her thali.
Prema dropped us at Panaji, the capital of Goa. Panaji is on the banks of river Mandovi. We thought to just take a stroll along the river, as it was evening time and then leave for kanwarjit's place. We must have walked for about 40 min, when we reached the sea. It's called the Miramar beach. It is where the river meets the sea, an estuary. I was seeing this for the first time in my life. The slow and quiet meeting of fresh water into the salty water of the sea. We also realized that we had walked across the whole Panaji city.
We then came back to the main bus stand and from there took a bus to Porvorim, where Kanwarjit lives. On the way was a place called Coquirrin, named after a restaurant. Outside the restaurant is a statue of Charles Shobraj seated and handcuffed. I was told be a local that it was here that he was caught for the third time. Charles Shobraj is an infamous murderer and thug, who has number of cases against him in many countries. The India police had caught him twice before and each time he managed to flee from the jail.
Trip to Konkan & Kerela- Day 3
Kudal-Malvan-Tarkarli-Kudal
i found vada paav at a small tea shop for breakfast. I make a point to not miss them whenever Im in Maharashtra.Nothing cant beat vada paav for me. So we had a lovely breakfast.
Bamboo Meeting-
We then spent a few hours seeing the workshop of Konbac. We were basically accompanying Sanjeev, the director of Konbac, George the person who designs all the artifacts and Himnashu Karve who had come from Pune. Himanshu was some kind of an expert from Pune who was here for some expert advice Konbac needed. Himanshu also happened to know Kanwarjit. We mostly listened quietly to their conversation. Based on that i figured that Konbac is facing mainly four problems with bamboo
1.I a bamboo wall (say a row of 100 bamboos) a few of them (3 out of 100) would get the fungal infection randomly. Konbac had no idea why that was happening and what is to be done for that.
2.To align bamboo pillars (which were to be the building blocks of a structure) was a difficult task.
3.Puncturing bamboo to put of bolt can often cause cracks to develop.
4. I dont rememer the fourth problem. Just slipped out of my mind.
This meeting cum touring happened till 11am when George suddenly suggested us to visit a resort in the village Tarkarli. There a bamboo boat house was being constructed, which we could have a look at. I dont know why, but some how I had assumed that we would be taken to all these constructions sites. But this was a reminder to us that we are now grownups and we need to travel alone. George drew a rough map for us to reach Tarkarli and they dropped us at the Kudal bus station. We were to take a bus from here to Malvan.
The good thing in Maharashtra is the you get state owned buses for every remote village. In fact I m told there is a system of Makaam gadi (makaam means destination and gadi would be bus), where the last bus in the evening would leave for the remotest village in the region, stay there over night and then return the next morning. So we took another of those red ST bus to another town called Malvan. As usual it was another rickety bus, ready to fall apart. Ive started loving them now.
The route from Kudal to Malvan was beeeeuatiful. We were traveling up and down the meadows, plenty of turns and curves and the bus would stop at every village on the way. The villages in this part are beautiful. Right in the middle of forest, one would find some huts and some plane agriculture area. The houses are made in traditional style. They have a slanting roof, where mud tiles are placed on top of another. The slope is such that it is just enough to stops the mud tiles from slipping. The force of friction allows them to hold onto each other. As a result no cement is used in the roof. I was told by an architect that the roof consumes the maximum cement in a house and so this arrangement is not only cheap but a lot more environment friendly. The walls of the houses though was mostly of concrete. That saddened me a bit. Im still looking for a village in India where they have traditional houses,dresses,food etc. I guess i need to go off the road to find one now. The road seemed to have 'modernized' (and concretized) our society.
On the way to Malvan we crossed a river. When i tried to locate it on the map, it showed no river in that region. The water body was definetly too big to be a nullah. Im sure it is a river. We reached Malvan bus stand in about 40 min. From there we took another bus to Tarkarli village, our destination or makaam. Just before reaching Tarkarli the bus with an almost head on collision with a motor cycle. Thankfully there were no major injuries, just a few bruises. We all got down the bus, the two riders were taken to a house next to the road, where an old woman gave something to them to eat. I think it must be something in the kitchen with would prevent infection. As a child my mom used to give me haldi-milk each time I would fall on the road. It is suppose to prevent tetanus. Thankfully in India most of our medicines come from our kitchen and we dont have to depend much on the market for our health. But the sad part is, we dont seem to value this. This knowledge can easily die out with one generation and there may come a time where we would have to rush to a chemist for as small a problem like a cut in the hand. I believe the kitchen has cure for all minor injuries and illness and also for some major illnesses.
Our bus moved forward only when everyone was convinced that the two motor cycle riders are now fine and back in normal senses. In rural India people are still not in too much of hurry and that basic concern for the other is still there.
2 min after that we got down at the MTDC (Maharashtra Tourism Development Corporation) resort in the Tarkarli village. This resort is at the beach where a boat house made of bamboo is being constructed. We had come here to see the construction. At the entrance of the resort there was a sign board saying "entry for only those who are staying". We would not even have been allowed to enter if Konbac had not sent us. I thought its a life time opportunity for me to enjoy a beach resort for free. I dont think I will ever be able to afford a vacation at one ever. And so we made full used of the opportunity. We saw the construction, ate food and then sat on the beach, watching the sea. It was a rough sea as this is the monsoon season. Just as we were sitting there, a woman came and sat next to us. I just turned and said hi to her, to which she also responded with a smile. I guess she must be one of those elites who can afford to stay at a resort like this.
On our way back, we got down half way in a village. We still had time in our hand and so thought to have a closer look at a village. We spent I think an hour, just moving in the village, drinking water from a well, peeping into a school classroom. We then caught another bus back to Kudal.
i found vada paav at a small tea shop for breakfast. I make a point to not miss them whenever Im in Maharashtra.Nothing cant beat vada paav for me. So we had a lovely breakfast.
Bamboo Meeting-
We then spent a few hours seeing the workshop of Konbac. We were basically accompanying Sanjeev, the director of Konbac, George the person who designs all the artifacts and Himnashu Karve who had come from Pune. Himanshu was some kind of an expert from Pune who was here for some expert advice Konbac needed. Himanshu also happened to know Kanwarjit. We mostly listened quietly to their conversation. Based on that i figured that Konbac is facing mainly four problems with bamboo
1.I a bamboo wall (say a row of 100 bamboos) a few of them (3 out of 100) would get the fungal infection randomly. Konbac had no idea why that was happening and what is to be done for that.
2.To align bamboo pillars (which were to be the building blocks of a structure) was a difficult task.
3.Puncturing bamboo to put of bolt can often cause cracks to develop.
4. I dont rememer the fourth problem. Just slipped out of my mind.
This meeting cum touring happened till 11am when George suddenly suggested us to visit a resort in the village Tarkarli. There a bamboo boat house was being constructed, which we could have a look at. I dont know why, but some how I had assumed that we would be taken to all these constructions sites. But this was a reminder to us that we are now grownups and we need to travel alone. George drew a rough map for us to reach Tarkarli and they dropped us at the Kudal bus station. We were to take a bus from here to Malvan.
The good thing in Maharashtra is the you get state owned buses for every remote village. In fact I m told there is a system of Makaam gadi (makaam means destination and gadi would be bus), where the last bus in the evening would leave for the remotest village in the region, stay there over night and then return the next morning. So we took another of those red ST bus to another town called Malvan. As usual it was another rickety bus, ready to fall apart. Ive started loving them now.
The route from Kudal to Malvan was beeeeuatiful. We were traveling up and down the meadows, plenty of turns and curves and the bus would stop at every village on the way. The villages in this part are beautiful. Right in the middle of forest, one would find some huts and some plane agriculture area. The houses are made in traditional style. They have a slanting roof, where mud tiles are placed on top of another. The slope is such that it is just enough to stops the mud tiles from slipping. The force of friction allows them to hold onto each other. As a result no cement is used in the roof. I was told by an architect that the roof consumes the maximum cement in a house and so this arrangement is not only cheap but a lot more environment friendly. The walls of the houses though was mostly of concrete. That saddened me a bit. Im still looking for a village in India where they have traditional houses,dresses,food etc. I guess i need to go off the road to find one now. The road seemed to have 'modernized' (and concretized) our society.
On the way to Malvan we crossed a river. When i tried to locate it on the map, it showed no river in that region. The water body was definetly too big to be a nullah. Im sure it is a river. We reached Malvan bus stand in about 40 min. From there we took another bus to Tarkarli village, our destination or makaam. Just before reaching Tarkarli the bus with an almost head on collision with a motor cycle. Thankfully there were no major injuries, just a few bruises. We all got down the bus, the two riders were taken to a house next to the road, where an old woman gave something to them to eat. I think it must be something in the kitchen with would prevent infection. As a child my mom used to give me haldi-milk each time I would fall on the road. It is suppose to prevent tetanus. Thankfully in India most of our medicines come from our kitchen and we dont have to depend much on the market for our health. But the sad part is, we dont seem to value this. This knowledge can easily die out with one generation and there may come a time where we would have to rush to a chemist for as small a problem like a cut in the hand. I believe the kitchen has cure for all minor injuries and illness and also for some major illnesses.
Our bus moved forward only when everyone was convinced that the two motor cycle riders are now fine and back in normal senses. In rural India people are still not in too much of hurry and that basic concern for the other is still there.
2 min after that we got down at the MTDC (Maharashtra Tourism Development Corporation) resort in the Tarkarli village. This resort is at the beach where a boat house made of bamboo is being constructed. We had come here to see the construction. At the entrance of the resort there was a sign board saying "entry for only those who are staying". We would not even have been allowed to enter if Konbac had not sent us. I thought its a life time opportunity for me to enjoy a beach resort for free. I dont think I will ever be able to afford a vacation at one ever. And so we made full used of the opportunity. We saw the construction, ate food and then sat on the beach, watching the sea. It was a rough sea as this is the monsoon season. Just as we were sitting there, a woman came and sat next to us. I just turned and said hi to her, to which she also responded with a smile. I guess she must be one of those elites who can afford to stay at a resort like this.
On our way back, we got down half way in a village. We still had time in our hand and so thought to have a closer look at a village. We spent I think an hour, just moving in the village, drinking water from a well, peeping into a school classroom. We then caught another bus back to Kudal.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Trip to Konkan and Kerela- Day 1&2
Hyd-Belgaum
We took the Rayalseema express from Lingampally station in Hyderabad. Before leaving i checked the train schedule. it stopped after every 30 min on average. I was very happy to see that. It meant spending more time in the country side, getting down at all those small stations.
Next day in the morning, after crossing Hubli the forests started. I have not seen a greener India in my life. The train slowly moved right through the jungle area, with light drizzle all along. This was like a meadow area, all up and down. In between there would be small farms. Because of the slopy terrain, people do step farming here, much like in the lower Himalayas. The farmers working in the field were using a jute bag covering their back as a rain coat. I think the crop they were sowing was rice, and so that would mean spend the whole day bending down and sowing seeds. Only the back is then exposed to the sky and hence the rain. And so a jute back on the back acts like a raincoat.
In the train we met Nezar Karam, a Sudanese national. I would have mistaken him for any other south indian had he not said he is from Sudan. He had been in India for a over a month and traveling, traveling alone. He was headed for Goa. He would have got down at a station named Londa and from there taken a bus to Madgaon. He told me about Sudan. They recently found oil, and so the economy is now booming. Even many Indian firms are investing in Sudan. I asked about Darfur, as Sudan is in news only for that here. He said Darfur is like Kashmir in India, at one end of the country. What happens in Darfur is restricted to that area only. He said it takes a 7 day drive by car to reach Darfur from Khartoum, the capital of Sudan.
We reached Belgaum at noon. Beautiful weather, nice quite town, the highest point in this region.We had a nice lunch and then took a Goa state transport bus to Sawantwadi in Maharashtra.
Sanwantwadi-Kudal
We met Kanwarjeet at the Sawantwadi bus station. We thought we would go to his place in Goa, but he had other plans for us. He told us to leave for a small town Kudal right away. We were to stay there for 2 days, see the bamboo constructions in nearby villages and then return to Goa at his place. He quickly made a map for us, and guided us to the bus which was leaving for Kudal. And so off we went to Kudal, totally unplanned, completely new territory. I sure was excited.
We stayed at the training centre of Konbac. Konbac stands for Konkan Bamboo and Cane development centre. I guess its a govt fundede organization working in Bamboo in the Konkan region. They have a training centre where they train the local people to make different artifacts of bamboo.
We took the Rayalseema express from Lingampally station in Hyderabad. Before leaving i checked the train schedule. it stopped after every 30 min on average. I was very happy to see that. It meant spending more time in the country side, getting down at all those small stations.
Next day in the morning, after crossing Hubli the forests started. I have not seen a greener India in my life. The train slowly moved right through the jungle area, with light drizzle all along. This was like a meadow area, all up and down. In between there would be small farms. Because of the slopy terrain, people do step farming here, much like in the lower Himalayas. The farmers working in the field were using a jute bag covering their back as a rain coat. I think the crop they were sowing was rice, and so that would mean spend the whole day bending down and sowing seeds. Only the back is then exposed to the sky and hence the rain. And so a jute back on the back acts like a raincoat.
In the train we met Nezar Karam, a Sudanese national. I would have mistaken him for any other south indian had he not said he is from Sudan. He had been in India for a over a month and traveling, traveling alone. He was headed for Goa. He would have got down at a station named Londa and from there taken a bus to Madgaon. He told me about Sudan. They recently found oil, and so the economy is now booming. Even many Indian firms are investing in Sudan. I asked about Darfur, as Sudan is in news only for that here. He said Darfur is like Kashmir in India, at one end of the country. What happens in Darfur is restricted to that area only. He said it takes a 7 day drive by car to reach Darfur from Khartoum, the capital of Sudan.
We reached Belgaum at noon. Beautiful weather, nice quite town, the highest point in this region.We had a nice lunch and then took a Goa state transport bus to Sawantwadi in Maharashtra.
Sanwantwadi-Kudal
We met Kanwarjeet at the Sawantwadi bus station. We thought we would go to his place in Goa, but he had other plans for us. He told us to leave for a small town Kudal right away. We were to stay there for 2 days, see the bamboo constructions in nearby villages and then return to Goa at his place. He quickly made a map for us, and guided us to the bus which was leaving for Kudal. And so off we went to Kudal, totally unplanned, completely new territory. I sure was excited.
We stayed at the training centre of Konbac. Konbac stands for Konkan Bamboo and Cane development centre. I guess its a govt fundede organization working in Bamboo in the Konkan region. They have a training centre where they train the local people to make different artifacts of bamboo.
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