Jaunt in the Jungle

Go to Kerala...Go to Kerala… this message seemed to echo among almost everyone we talked with. From the Indian restaurant owner in Scotland, friends from home, and our Chennai hosts, the message was clear. So we went to Kerala, eager to discover why everyone loves this state so much!

While Tamil Nadu is on the east side of South India, Kerala is on the west. That meant it was time for our first train ride, 15 hours rolling across South India. Although wandering around the Chennai station at 3 am trying to figure out where our late train would be arriving was not the most fun, the train ride itself was surprisingly great. It was actually better than a number of our train rides in Europe. Trains are definitely the way to travel! It helped that we were in the relatively expensive AC2 class (by default, since the tickets we luckily found were almost the only ones still available on the whole train!). AC2 is a curtained compartment with bunk beds on either side of a narrow aisle. Most importantly, our slot was air conditioned which always makes life look much better. Before traveling here we both thought of AC as a luxurious frill but now we are realizing that in climates like this, it is almost a requirement for our sanity. In addition to being cool, uncrowded, and fairly clean, the train was also quiet: the most noise we heard was the recurring soundtrack of the hot beverage seller as he walked the aisles: “teacoffee” ...“coffeetea” ...“teateatea” … “coffeecoffeecoffee,” the intonation reflecting the fact that he’s already said it a million times too many in his lifetime. The “biryanibiryianibiryani” man would pass down the aisle occasionally as well, the voice carrying the rhythmic high speed accuracy of an auctioneer. We had also heard many horrific warnings to avoid the train bathrooms at all costs; but although ours was a little smelly it wasn’t particularly worse than any typical transit bathroom. Squatting on a jiggling train trying to aim your pee into a hole in the floor was a little challenging, though.

Endless scenes of rural life flickered by as we rolled along the tracks. We passed clusters of simple village houses with chickens running in the dirt, plastic water buckets and cooking pots spread across the packed earth yards, colorful clothing hanging to dry. Rice paddies and other crop fields covered the landscape, dotted with big clusters of grain or hay tied into cones to dry. Rows of lush palm trees waved their branches luxuriously, and underlying the whole scene was soil at times so red it looked like it was glowing. There were small wandering clusters of cows and goats, and sari-clad women stood in the fields watching over their animals. People cruised down the narrow frontage roads on their motorbikes. Clusters of workers crouched in the watery paddies transplanting rice, accompanied by lots of elegant long-necked white birds wading in the shallows. It looked like an idyllic pastoral scene from the train, but we are sure there’s a darker side to life as well. In the newspaper we read an article about the increasing epidemic of farmer suicides along with reliance on pesticides. When traveling, it is easy to focus on the picturesque exotic glamour of new places; while in reality most places are heavily affected by the same struggles and troubles that exist all over the world. They are just harder to notice when you are not familiar with a place.

We have been contemplating the difference between country and city poverty in India. As our guide Krishnan talked about in the Auroville farm tour, in the countryside you can be materially poor but still be “land rich”: able to provide for yourself, grow your own food, have a tight community, and a basic level of decency. After seeing the unpleasant quality of life in Indian cities, especially among the poor, we understood this message even more. Of course, we don’t mean to glamorize country living as it must be an endless hardship here as farming is everywhere. And indeed, due to the way that agriculture is currently valued, it sounds like there are even fewer opportunities to make a living in the country than in the city.

Nevertheless, at least from our very limited experience of it, in the countryside there is not necessarily the same level of abject poverty that exists in the city, where you can have literally nothing, and meanwhile spend 24 hours a day breathing in smog and going deaf from the honking. It is sad when people have no other option but to move to the city for work, a trend that is happening all around the world. Of course, thinking about this tied back into all that we have been contemplating about society throughout our travels.

Chilling in Kochi

Anyway, after the long journey we arrived at the station in Kochi, one of Kerala’s main cities. Colby had found a fantastic Airbnb for a great price so we settled in for a few days. It was a room in a stylish rental home, located in an upscale part of the central city. Airbnb is fun because you can go to residential areas that are away from the tourist areas. The house caretaker Bimal was a lovely man. Although he didn’t speak a huge amount of English we enjoyed his company and chatting with him. He is from Sikkim, way up near the Himalayas, about as far away as possible in India. His whole family is living there still; but he must spend a year away from them working in Kochi to earn money. He said he missed his family and the food from home, the fresh organic vegetables, but is making do in Kochi.

Our accomplishments in Kochi were mainly: napping, vegetating, venturing out for meals, and eating pineapple. We were wiped out after the train ride and slept a lot, feeling rather unmotivated. We found a great new vegetarian restaurant called Babji Sabji within reasonable walking distance. We have gotten our restaurant routine down pat: We order one rice dish (such as veg pulao or biryani), 1 wheat flatbread (such as roti or chapati), 1 dal (lentil) main dish, and 1 paneer (Indian cheese cube) dish, and split them all. This is what we do in pretty much every restaurant! All throughout our time in India we have been craving protein; the lentils and cheese always hit the spot.

Kochi definitely had a different feel than Chennai, at least the part of town we were in. In Chennai, we couldn’t get over the way super fancy hotels and stores would be right along the same road with junk piles and open ditches smelling like sewage. In Kochi, it was interesting to see how there existed a more consistently “nice” part of town, where not just individual buildings but the whole area including the streets had a more put-together feel. Another thing that struck us was that walking down the streets of Kochi was not an insane anxiety producing obstacle course. And crossing them was not always a death-defying run for it. There was even a really nice pedestrian and bike pathway along the canal. We couldn’t stop marveling at the path. Whoa! It’s so... smooth and continuous! Of course, the canal itself had a reeking sewage odor, but it was bordered by lots of beautiful tropical flowers and plants.

Along with these nice aspects, Kochi also had a much more commercialized feel with lots of big advertising billboards and all those other unsightly results of economic “development.” It made us think: How can we maximize the positives while minimizing the negatives of such development? Can you get one without the other?

Kerala has the positives too: in the newspaper there was a big spread titled “Kerala Best on All Fronts,” based on a big recent quality of life study looking at many different development indicators in all the states of India (education, health care, clean environment, etc). Indeed, Kerala is one of the most economically and socially developed states in India, and actually has a strong communist history and presence in its state government. You could see this relative prosperity in many of the small details of life.

People had told us that the area of Fort Kochi is a good place to visit, so one day we took the 8 rupee ferry over to see it. It’s a historic melting pot, featuring a potpourri of things like a Dutch Cemetery, Portuguese Church, Syrian Orthodox Church, mosques, spice shops, Ayurvedic resorts, and a restored jail where Indian freedom fighters were jailed in the 1860’s. What a mix! In Kerala there is an interesting communist flavor thrown into the mix as well, with red hammer and sickle flags hanging on posts and shops selling Che Guevara posters. We even had lunch at an outdoor cafe called Cafe Cuba, which unfortunately made our stomachs rather unhappy.

One evening the caretaker Bimal offered to cook dinner for us. It was just the best! It made us miss home cooking even more. He cooked it in the style of his home in Sikkim. He made 3 dishes: dal soup, a “lady fingers” dish (a long pod cut up into small chunks that tastes like okra), and a little potato cubes dish, all with delightful fresh spices including wonderful ginger. And of course a big bowl of rice. We invited him to sit with us and had fun playing on Colby’s Google Translate app with Nepali, the language Bimal speaks at home.

We always “star” our current lodging on our online maps so we can find it easily when we’re coming back from an outing. We always label this waypoint as “Home” (possibly for lack of any better term). We chuckle every time we do it, but it’s true - it never ceases to amaze how quickly a place can start to feel like home, after just a couple nights. In Kochi, however, Julia began to feel increasing yearnings for a real home. Specifically to do something like plant a garden, get into the rhythms of one place, and spend time with people we’ve known for more than just a day or two. Travel is definitely a constant grind of navigating through all the newness. Constantly trying to figure out where to stay next, where to go next, where to find good bottled water, what to order on an unfamiliar menu, how to get from Point A to Point B. Julia was beginning to lose motivation, feeling a kind of jadedness, the dying down of the feeling that there are cooler and more exciting things “out there” that need to be explored, and more content to sit in our airconditioned room reading a book. Comfort and routine and arranging things how you like them were starting to sound more enticing than stimulation.

Awesomeness and Angst in Alleppey

Anyway, our next stop after Kochi was Alleppey, gateway to Kerala’s famous backwaters. It was a fun train ride to get there. We were in second class seats with windows open to the fresh air, and enjoyed the breeze on our faces as we listened to the rat-a-tat drumlike rhythm of the train wheels. Kerala is super lush, with all sorts of flowers and draping vines and palm trees. It is also really marshy, with algae-cloaked bogs in all the low spots. Riding the train was a great way to get a peek at all the villages that morphed one into the next almost the whole way. There were lots of modest one-story houses with their wide open doorways, clean swept packed dirt yards, speckled with plants and decrepit sheds and cows and bright laundry drying. Everyone made generous use of blue tarps as awnings and fences. There were also lots of larger, fancier two story houses thrown into the mix with fresh colorful paint. As in Kochi, we continued to see communist party flags and posters and paintings on the concrete walls. And many small temples as well.

Classic South Indian Thali lunch

It was striking to see how many people were out and about. People everywhere! Coming and going, walking down the paths, working at their homestead, lounging together… In contrast, in the United States you can walk down a residential street and feel like you are the only one there since everyone is closed up in their own house or away at work for long hours. The landscape looked rural, but its outward appearance didn’t give a clue to how dense the population actually is— at every little railroad crossing there would already be a big lineup of motorbikes and autorickshaws and minibuses waiting for the train to pass. Indeed, Kerala has 2,200 people per square mile as opposed to only 68 in Minnesota.

Soon we arrived in Alleppey and stayed at a family run guesthouse called Venice Castle. With its canals, Alleppey is known as “the Venice of the East.” Tired from our train ride, we slept almost until sunset. Right after we woke up, our room was permeated with a man’s chanting voice projected very loud over a loudspeaker, and we realized it was the call to prayer of the mosque next door. On the other side of our guesthouse as you walk up the driveway was a Hindu temple of Lakshmi (the goddess of prosperity). Of course, right in the middle of these two places, our guesthouse had its own elaborate Mary and Jesus shrine in the dining room. There is the diversity of India for you!

That evening, our curiosity was piqued when we heard music emanating from the Hindu temple. On our way to dinner we passed by the ceremony as we walked down the driveway. In the darkness, the temple was all lit up with the glittering flames of candles and tiny lights, with music playing and bells tinging. The temple was ceremonially decorated with lovely natural objects like leaves and flowers. Later, a group of people had gathered around one of the central shrines and they were doing a singing chant. We asked our guesthouse owner what the festivities were about. He said that there is an important pilgrimage that people undertake this time of year called Sabarimala. Pilgrims travel to a temple dedicated to Lord Ayyappa up in the hills of Kerala. About 45-50 million devotees visit this place every year. WWWHOOAA. That is a ton of people. Anyway, before pilgrims go they have to observe a 41 day period of austerity for purification. Whenever a group of people begin this pilgrimage from a particular temple, their home temple holds a ceremony to begin their journey. Learning about this pilgrimage also explained the groups of men we kept seeing at the train stations in Kochi. Men walking by in black clothing, barefoot, with a cloth-wrapped bundle held on top of their head with one hand. We had been curious who they were, but Google took a while to figure out how to answer the query: “black clothing barefoot bundle on head.” No, we don’t want a fashion advertisement. But, eventually sure enough we learned about the Sabarimala pilgrimage.

The temple

The next morning we woke up and heard more music coming from the temple. This time, a sort of nasal-sounding trumpet wavered through a fast melody moving up and down the scale in tremulating trills and turns, accompanied with drums and the occasional ding-ding-ding-ding-ding of a bell. Wherever we are, it seems like there is almost always activity at the temples. Faith is an active and integral part of life here.

After a breakfast of homemade masala dosas, fresh juice, and Kerala’s special mini-bananas, we set out to explore the Kerala backwaters about which everyone had raved. The Kerala backwaters are a network of canals and small lakes, many of which are formed by dikes that allow farming below sea level. They are very popular for boat tours. Spending a night on a houseboat is the “thing to do” but instead we opted for the good old local transport ferry for a grand total of 78 rupees ($1.25) for the day. For all the publicity that the houseboats get, in the end they looked kind of boring and touristy (not to mention expensive) and we couldn’t see what the big draw was. We were so glad we did the other option.

Of course, taking local transport meant we stopped a couple dozen times along the way to let people on and off. It was amazing to imagine living on such narrow strips of land between the canal and the lower-elevation agricultural fields. The weirdest sight of all was peering across a big farm field and seeing what looked like a train car slowly cruising along on a raised mound in the distance, and realizing that it was actually a houseboat!

After 2.5 hours cruising down the canals and waterways we reached the city of Kottayam. We had a quick lunch and then caught the return ferry back to Alleppey. By then the day had gotten really warm and we were sweating profusely in the bright sun glaring off the water. The boat ride and backwaters are nice and pretty and all, but not particularly captivating, so the 2.5-3 hours to get back to Alleppey were starting to look kind of long. Fortunately, though, a big group of people soon got on board, dressed in what looked like Sunday finery, and this group included about 8 young kids aged about 6-12ish. We and them became mutual entertainment for the duration of the journey. Consulting their older sisters, amidst lots of collapses into giggles and internal chatter and shuffling back and forth they mustered up the courage to ask us different questions like “What is your name?” “How old are you?” “What is your father’s name?” “Where are you from?” “What is your favorite food?” And then several reiterations and variations on these questions. We asked some of the same of them. They sang a few songs for us and we sang some for them, to mutual applause (with their shyer older sisters surreptitiously videotaping from a couple seats back). They also liked Colby’s whistling. We did “head, shoulders, knees, and toes” and then tried to learn what all the words were in Malayalam from them, but struggled greatly to pronounce them to their satisfaction. The English words “houseboat” and “resort” were solidly in their vocabulary, though. Anyway, with this fun the hours went by quickly and soon we were back in Alleppey.

After this fun first day, we languished a bit for our next two days in Alleppey. After the boat tour, we didn’t know what else to do in town. The streets were unpleasant for walking and there weren’t many museums or cultural events. We didn’t do much of anything those days, yet they still managed to be exhausting as we faced the endless task of deciding where in India to go next. The hard part of traveling long term is that you spend so much of your current time trying to plan your next move, always overwhelmed with options and stressed about making the wrong decision. Julia was getting to the stage where she didn’t feel all that motivated to go anywhere. All the associated downsides of each option seemed to outweigh any good that might come from them. Small towns and rural areas are hard to get to and you must have specific lodging and arranged activities (usually expensive) since there isn’t much independent tourism infrastructure. Cities have more options and freedom, but in general the street chaos makes you never want to leave your room. And midsize towns have proven to be the worst of both worlds. Reading about places and seeing photos was starting to sound more appealing than actually going there. On top of that, few attractions are as wonderful in reality as the guidebooks and advertisements make them look. Also, when facing the North Indian cities we were concerned about air pollution making everything yucky and toxic. In November the Delhi air was as bad as smoking 45 cigarettes per day. How about that for people who talk about “economic progress”... industry and growth are not economical if it means they have to shut down schools and deal with chronic health problems! How unfair it is, the way human life is sacrificed for industry and money.

Beautiful hand painted truck

Eventually after researching things to death, then going to dinner to mull it over, we were still at an impasse. Just one of those moments where you don’t want to make any decision but can’t put it off any longer. As in, we need to know where we are going to sleep tomorrow night. Julia thinking: How can there be nowhere in India or even in the whole world that I want to go, including home? Since we couldn’t make a decision, and were both sick with colds, we decided to see if our beloved old Airbnb in Kochi had any availability, and indeed it did! So back to Kochi we went. Although in some ways it felt like we were  not “maximizing” our limited time in India, it was just such a relief to think that for a few days, we could go back to a place we were already familiar with.

Kochi Part 2

On the train ride back to Kochi we were nestled amongst a team of girls dressed up in sports uniforms who looked like they were about 12 or 13 years old. As the wind blew in the windows and we sailed past the forests and villages, we learned that they are a football (soccer) team from Kollam, about 150 km south of Kochi. They invited us to come watch their game later in the afternoon, which by utter coincidence turned out to be within walking distance of our Airbnb! Unfortunately our team was absolutely creamed by the other one. It would have been more celebratory if they had done better, but nevertheless we went down to say hi to them at the end, and shook all of their hands. Kudos to all the players for running all over that enormous full-size soccer field beneath the glaring hot sun. We were just about melting sitting in the shade! Anyway, the girl who invited us, Minnu, was so poised and friendly. Even now, weeks later, we still have an active WhatsApp chat and Facebook messages going with her almost every day. All thanks to that one coincidental train ride!

Our time in Kochi gave us an emotional breather. We went back to our favorite Babji Sabji restaurant for almost every meal, and bought more pineapple from the supermarket whose cashier of course remembered us. We sat around in the air conditioning, reading and playing computer games (respectively) and appreciated not having to go outside much. However, going back to Kochi didn’t exactly solve, but only postponed, our dilemma of where to go next. Finally we decided to give one of our exhaustively researched earlier possibilities, Parambikulam Wildlife Sanctuary, a whirl. One of Colby’s (many) life goals was to see wild elephants and this seemed like the place to try. Our visit would require some finagling as there are very limited public transit options for the park. Therefore, our first stepping stone would be 2 nights in the nearby town of Palakkad.

Homestay and Hiking in Palakkad

Our Airbnb host in Palakkad came to pick us up from the train station, and as we drove we passed a lot of over-the-top CPI(M) party decorations: red hammer and sickle flags hanging from almost every street pole, streamers and posters, etc. Our host explained how the communist party has had a long influence in Kerala. However, despite their initial idealism he said that now, the party doesn’t really have the interests of the people in mind and only make themselves and their friends rich. Isn’t that how it always goes. However, at least in Kerala they are elected honestly and democratically. There have been many benefits from it, though. Our hosts said that, unlike other states, there is not the same desperation in Kerala that motivates people to turn to crime. Although not everyone has lots of luxuries, everyone at least has enough to eat which goes a long way toward maintaining social order. There is excellent access to education as well, as Kerala has a 94% literacy rate which is even higher among the younger generation. Our conversation in the car ride covered not only the communist party but also morphed into climate change, our host lamenting how it’s making it even more unbearably hot here. He also disdains all the pollution and trash, how messy it is in India. Then the conversation morphed into Trump, who we were surprised to hear he supports because he’s trying to bring God and Christianity back to America. Well, that was about the time we arrived at the house so we let that one drop.

The house itself was on the edge of town. We stayed in a spare bedroom of a retired couple and their grandson. With gardens, chickens, and a fish pond, it was a lovely place! Our hosts both grew up in Kerala and lived in Kenya for about 15 years doing missionary work before retiring back here to Palakkad. There was a very strong Christian feel in the house with all the decorations. The house itself was at the end of a narrow lane, surrounded with trees and flowers. Geckos skittered on the walls - a good sign of being near the countryside! In the warm humid nights we listened to the many overlapping rhythms of insects, so many that it was hard to pick them apart...just one shimmering auditory backdrop. We are always grateful any time we are not listening to cars honking all night.

Not having eaten much for lunch we were ravenous but realized that there weren’t really any restaurants close by. The wife kindly cooked us a late dinner of dosas, a bowl of spicy sautéed onion filling, a bowl of coconut chutney, and some hard boiled eggs from their chickens. On top of that was fresh passion fruit juice from their own fruits, as well as their own teeny bananas and their own papaya. They’re all in such abundance around here that you can’t even sell them, just try to eat as many as you can yourself. We were more than happy to help. Our hosts talked about how they highly prioritize growing their own vegetables as many of the store ones have pesticide residues.

Colby's view from the water tower

Looking for local activities, we found a place called Dhoni Waterfalls on Google Maps and got excited about the 4km walk through the forest to get there. Our host told us the trail was closed to the public because of rampaging elephants, but we didn’t believe him and had an autorickshaw driver take us there anyway. Sure enough, it was open though you had to enter in cohorts with a ranger at 9:30, 11:30, or 2:00 because of elephant activity. We arrived at 10, meaning we had to wait an hour and a half before our group would begin. During this time we had a delightful time wandering down the nearest dirt road past little homesteads. We excitedly spotted our first monkeys of India - a group hanging out on a wall and jumping into a leafy tree. Around us, the mountains soared incredibly steeply into the sky, the hazy tint of the hot humid day seeming to elevate them like they were floating in the heavens. We could see why mountains are often regarded as places where gods reside. On our walk we also came across a small stream. A clear stream that wasn’t full of sewage or trash! The most striking part was the smell - of fresh air, leaves, decaying plant matter, earth. It was wonderful to breathe deeply, to remember the original and best smell of the world. Not the dusty burning rubber of the cities. This was quite refreshing to the soul.

We meandered back at 11:30 to begin the hike, and a crowd was gathering. As per usual, we were the only Westerners there. We have gotten accustomed to the fact that many people want to have their picture taken with us, so as we waited for the tour to start we went through the obligatory rounds of smiling as the special guests with strangers in their selfies and group portraits. The whole premise of it makes us want to giggle. Why are we so special?

Anyway, besides the heat, the major downside of the day was that we had probably by far the largest hiking cohort of the week at about 100 people, it being midday on Sunday. We were trying to imagine how we could commune with nature with all the chatter around us, and a bit bummed about the crowded situation and noise. But fortunately, although the park is strict about the entrance times, once you are in they don’t give a hoot how much the group spreads out. There’s just one ranger at the front. And everyone fragments really far apart. So fortunately, we had the path mostly to ourselves for a lot of the hike, listening to the birds and wind in the trees.

As we hiked we both realized how much we’d been missing our “nature time,” just walking in the forest. It is so spiritually regenerative and inspiring, the absolute opposite of Indian city walks. In addition, we had the bonus of spotting wildlife. Beautiful birds sent flashes of color through the thick vegetation. We kept our eyes peeled, scanning the greenery for movement, and discovered monkeys and langurs lounging in the trees. The fatiguing heat made us envy the sleepy siesta of Malabar giant squirrel napping in a tree with its fluffy tail dangling down. The word “giant” doesn’t do it justice: in reality, it’s a super-jumbo-humongous squirrel the size of a monkey. Being in the tropical forest meant we also saw some deathly frightening huge spiders, pretty flowers, and vines draped all around. The waterfall itself was pretty but nothing special; what we enjoyed most was the walk through the forest.

We enjoyed the true “homestay” experience of our two nights at the Airbnb in Palakkad. Literally living with someone in their house is a much more personal experience, with both its pros and cons. Although they spoke good English, sometimes it was hard for us to interpret the intent of their words or figure out exactly what they meant. We also had this constant feeling of imposing, asking them to cook meals or arrange transportation for us when they might be busy with other things. They would always wait in the other room for us to eat our meal before eating theirs. The wife was always asking to make sure we liked the food, whether we had enough, etc. Again we had that feeling of being waited upon and fawned over. However, that must just be standard treatment for guests in a culture that emphasizes warm hospitality. Anyway, navigating all the social dynamics of a homestay took more energy than a hotel, but it was a much more rewarding experience as well.

Wonderful Wildlife at Parambikulam

Looking forward to more nature time, the next morning we headed up to Parambikulam Wildlife Sanctuary itself. Bus information in India is very hard to find; we had some anxiety whether we’d actually be able to find the fabled 1 bus per day into the park. We read on Wikitravel that there is one at “Approximately 8:00” and on another website we heard “8:20.” We were also not 100% sure which bus station to go to. Fortunately it all worked out. Although all the station signage and bus labels were in the looping Malayalam script, we managed to hone in on the correct bus by asking “Parambikulam?” and walking in the direction people pointed. Finally we got on and confirmed with the driver. By golly, it had worked out! The uncertainty of success made it all the sweeter as we gave thanks for our good fortune.

Typical Street Scene

We settled in for the 3 hour ride up to the park. The park itself is in Kerala, but you have to pass through Tamil Nadu to access it. Along the road, the towns and villages morphed into each other almost continuously. It was morning and lots of kids were arriving at schools along the way. The sweet acrid smell of burning plant matter piles wafted in the air. We passed by and endless series of little temples; it felt like almost every time we blinked there was a new one in front of us. There were many little stalls called “chicken centre” where you can see the birds in cages out front to be butchered fresh upon request. And lots of lottery ticket booths, though only on the Kerala side of the border. Young people waved at us, and we waved back, probably the only time in our lives we’ll have the feeling of being celebrities, albeit for no reason. In the places where the habitation thinned, we passed lots and lots of coconut palm plantations, where people climb into the trees to shake down the coconuts, and then collect them from the ground in big plastic tubs. People weaving coconut thatch mats sat on the ground, enormous piles of empty coconut shells bordered the roadside. It was coconut galore! No wonder it features so heavily in the cuisine here.

Eventually we left town and saw the forested mountains soaring into the sky around us as we entered the forest reserve. It was a grey day, with fresh mild air that was almost comfortable. We wound our way up and up, past tall trees and lush forest and bamboo clumps that were awe-inspiringly larger than life, like they were at 300% scale. Tufts so thick, so wide, so soaring, you could hardly believe it. The road was a lilililtltltlelele jostley and potholed so it took a while to get up. But by 11:30 we had arrived at Parambikulam Wildlife Sanctuary. For a little background, the reserve was formed relatively recently and today about 2000 people from the 4 tribal groups native to the park still live in villages inside the park. There is a big effort to have the tribal members be an integral part of the ecotourism and park management, and it seems like they’ve done a good job at it.

Anyway we checked in to our “Tented Niche” accommodation in the ecotourism compound. Lunch in the big gazebo-like building wouldn’t be until 1:30 so we had some time to kill. We could hardly keep our eyes open but wanted to explore, so we wandered around, said hello to the dazzling wild peacocks strutting around. The monkeys in the trees kept us entertained with their half human, half nonhuman characteristics. Walking toward the information center we came upon a very large group of young women. Their adult leader introduced himself, saying that they are from a teacher’s college in Palakkad and are coming here for a nature education camp. Of course, we were somewhat swarmed with girls wanting to take selfies and portraits with us, so we pasted on our smiles and held them for at least 5 minutes until everyone had gotten the photo they wanted.

Spotted Deer

Our first activity was the “jungle safari” at 3:30. We had read mixed reviews of it online so we didn’t have the highest expectations. Indeed, they mainly drive you on a loud minibus bus quickly through the forest from place to place, like dam overlooks and the world’s largest teak tree. How can wildlife be spotted when you are quickly roaring by in a bus? Costing 9700 rupees ($150), our night here was by far the most expensive thing we have done in India so far. We were hoping it would be worth it! And we were especially hoping we would see elephants after all this effort. We kept getting our hopes up whenever the bus would slow down, only to realize it was for a big pothole or speed bump. We were getting a little nauseated with the bumpy road and frustrated that the word “safari” was a euphemism.

Sambar Deer

But we nevertheless did see wildlife, lots of it! Big herds of spotted deer grazed peacefully. Wild bison with their intense horns and sleek, dark, muscular flanks moved in the brush. A pair of sambar deer gave us a very deer-in-the-headlights stare from afar. Wild hogs, big and earthy, rooted around in the woods. Unfortunately the bus never stopped for more than a minute or two at wildlife sightings. It made us miss our time in Shetland where we spotted a seal sunning itself, scrambled down to a tide pool and sat watching it for 2 hours. Anyway, Colby kept his keen eyes peeled for elephants, the biggest draw for him. Colby’s eyes are the best wildlife eyes in the bus: somehow, as we were quickly shuddering down the gravel road, he spotted what seemed to be a grey rump rustling amidst the faroff greenery. “Elephant!” he projected up to the front of the bus, who hit the breaks, and backed up. Hmm, we couldn’t see it, couldn’t see it… Colby began to think his eyes had deceived him, but sure enough it appeared again, its big flaps of ears way back in the greenery. It was so far away and hidden that Julia never could see it even when we were looking for it. Wow Colby. Miraculous. So now you’ve seen a wild elephant!

Bison

Next stop was “Bamboo rafting” on the reservoir lake. Sounds exotic, but you basically sit while the park employees in their jungle-camo uniforms row you in a 20 minute circle. Nevertheless, it was quite lovely and peaceful, surrounded with the grey misty mountains. Next stop was the “tribal dance,” performed by 8 village ladies and 3 musicians. It was pretty repetitive, not particularly intricate, and felt like the awkward tourist show that it was, but it was mildly entertaining. By now it was dark and we went for a “night safari,” aka being driven home along bumpy roads in the dark. For a park there was a surprising amount of human habitation and buildings so it didn’t have the exact “wilderness” feel that we had thought. But still, we enjoyed seeing more spotted deer and bison, spotted with panning flashlights through the darkness. It was also exciting to imagine the tigers and leopards that live in these forests. Although we didn’t have the very rare thrill of spotting one, it was still impressive to imagine them living out somewhere in the pitch black abundance of the deeper jungle.

Our second day involved much more time walking outside and was therefore much more inspiring. It began at 7 am with an hour and a half hike through the forest. There was just the guide, us, and a group of 7 or so doctor friends who were all quiet and attentive to the scene around them, which made the experience much nicer. And then… “Elephants!” We hardly saw them before we were moving quickly in retreat, as they maybe seemed to be showing some moves toward charging. Anyway we got back far and watched them cross the path and trot quickly through the trees in the distance in front of us. It was a whole group of many different ages and sizes, all determinedly on the move. Our sighting was probably no more than 5 or 10 seconds, but it was an awe-inspiring moment nevertheless! After that highlight, we continued onward through the forest. Our guide pointed out species after species of bird, many exhibiting the extra flair of creativity and style that the tropics seems to give its creatures.

Elephants!!!

After the main programming was over, we did an additional private hike with our guide. This time we went tromping way up into the forest and saw more birds: a Black Eagle circling nearby in the sky. A Malabar Trogon with its beautiful orange color. A different eagle, a Booted Eagle this time, sitting up in a tree branch. A Malabar Grey Hornbill with its big hooked beak, and strikingly bright Orange Minivets. Earlier in the day we had seen some fantastically colored woodpeckers, and also these black birds with cool dangling tail appendages. And of course peacocks: showy, colorful, and luxuriously spectacular!

Booted Eagle

Besides birds we also saw a huge monitor lizard skittering across our path, as well as a little cycad tree whose fruits the tribal people eat. Our guide also showed us a tree whose thorns they use for piercings, and a plant whose leaf juice is a good antiseptic. We would have loved to learn more about all the wild foods and medicines that the tribal people historically exclusively relied on, and as we read to some extent still do today. As we continued walking, we saw enormous elephant footprints by a stream as well as massive piles of their poop.

Malabar Grey Hornbill

Our wonderful hike wound to a close, and we hopped on the bus out of the park at 1 pm, almost full with villagers who live in the park. Despite our (mostly Julia’s) waffling about whether Parambikulam Wildlife Sanctuary would be worth all the hassle and expense, in the end we were glad we did it, especially since we saw elephants. Getting out into the tropical forest was refreshing, engaging, and a good reminder of how absolutely awe inspiring and precious they are.

We spent that night in the town of Pollachi, the nearest decent sized town near the park. Although Pollachi has a population of 90,000, it felt much more like a town than a city, with dusty narrow streets and lots of little stalls and outdoor vendors and a busy main drag. It’s one of those places where you could bet money on the fact that you are the only tourist in the whole town, since there is nothing “notable” to see or do and lodging is few and far between (our residency was the only acceptable-looking lodging we could find online in the whole town). But we enjoy being in places like this because it means no one is trying to chase after you and sell you stuff. Plus it just feels real. (Whatever that means).

After dinner in Pollachi we went over to a “Departmental Store” for some groceries. As we were perusing the fried snacks aisle, a young woman employee stocking shelves introduced herself and her friend. She exuded an effortless energy of joy, confidence, and kindness. We chatted with her a bit and then she helped us around the store, helping us find stuff, recommending which banana and date varieties to get, and lugging our arm-wrenchingly heavy basket while we walked alongside wishing we could take some of the load. Anyway, after we checked out we said our goodbyes, happy for this lovely encounter. Julia even got a selfie with these near-strangers, India style! She's in the middle and her shy giggly friend is on the right. All throughout our trip, it hasn’t been only the impressive sights that make the trip memorable, but even more importantly all these little moments of connection.

Our night in Pollachi was our last night in South India before getting on our 36 hour northbound train up to Ahmedabad, Gujarat. Spending all night, then all day, then all night on a train was actually not as bad as it sounds! As we departed, we could see now why everyone likes Kerala so much. It is manageable, functional, “India light,” with lots of natural beauty. Indeed, the best part of Kerala was its rural natural areas. If we could do it over again we would spend more time in such areas, and less time putzing around the cities feeling exhausting and waffling about our next move. However, getting to rural areas can be a challenging effort and once you are there, you have little way to get around and have to rely on the food and entertainment your accommodation provides. We were feeling tired and overwhelmed and didn’t quite get our act together to maximize our experience in Kerala and take advantage of all that it had to offer. Nevertheless we are happy for what we did do: homestays, hiking, wildlife, and simply seeing a new corner of India with all its subtle differences. It was a beautiful state and now we can add our voice to the chorus saying: “Go to Kerala!”