I joined Rajagopal for another perfect meal on the deck, and we took a couple of pictures before we finally made our way back to dock. Our driver picked us up, and as always it didn’t seem like we knew where we were going. Although I don’t know what was being said, I was tipped off by the asking for directions every three minutes, sometimes for hours. This is not a criticism, the roads are not marked, they are confusing, and people point or nudge in opposite directions frequently. On our journey to the bird sanctuary, we made a couple of unforgettable stops. One for coffee, in a little road side shop that reminded me of rural Guatemala. They serve hot bevies in small glasses here, which takes a special holding technique to avoid getting burned. The shop owner was eager to show me the bulk items that he had for sale, which ranged from cashews in the shell to raw seeds used to make soap and dye. The guys next door had an open metal working shop. I was watching and they seemed open to me wandering over, so I did. They were doing some serious work, with the simplest of tools. What is nice besides the fact that impromptu tours are totally welcomed, is that they not only are they ok with pictures, most people seem to get excited. Across the street about 10 guys had a small lumber operation going, they were moving logs through a couple of classic but very functional wet saws. I’m hoping these pictures are cool, because it was great seeing these guys get down to business (and they were pumped about the pictures).As we continued on our way to the bird sanctuary, I heard some fireworks and songs which made me quick draw my two cameras. Rajagopal ordered the driver to stop, and when we got out there was a small festival going on at the temple. The people were very welcoming and the kids were ecstatic about my presence. The one little girl, who was 3 or 4, kept rotating from person to person just to keep an eye on me. I’m convinced that this one of the cutest kids I’ve ever seen. A few children and a few adults made their way over to welcome me and ask me a few questions. Rajagopal took the opportunity to say a prayer and get his Bindi. This is cool, wherever you are at you can stop to pray, give your fellow citizens a shout out, and be on your way. It really does justice to the ‘pray and believe it your way’ that everybody keeps suggesting. Kerala is quite the center of religions for every temple there is a brightly painted church and often a mosque. So after some turns, and turn arounds and a stop to “you need to take urine?” we reached the bird sanctuary.
I’ve been inquiring more about what Is being said but I am still confused. For example when we went into the bird sanctuary, there seemed to be numerous debates going on just to get in, I’m not sure if Rajagopal is heckling for a couple rupee discount every time or if everything just has a few more steps. Maybe the language just functions differently. Rajagopal and I started our trek into the sanctuary. It was a really picturesque walk under the forest canopy, but I was wondering where the birds were. After about a mile and a half we got to a tower. When we climbed up where we could see above the canopy and it was like being thrown into the Lion King, minus the lions. There were thousands of beautiful birds flying around and perched on every tree. Supercool.
After going on another journey we got to a super-super nice resort. Rajagopal prides himself on being a good host , and most of all a good commerce man. Story goes that when there was word of me coming he took the helm on arranging the trip we are currently on. The school is comprised of kids of well-to-do parents, one of which owns a travel company. A call was made and now I am in completely decked out room with a window overlooking a flower covered canal, all of this is at nominal price. After we got here we “took a lunch.” Eating is big deal, and Rajagopal wants to make sure I’m taken care of. Even if I start to order, he’ll interject that I “want dosa.” Then he tells them that I am special, as is he, “He [I] got off the plane, had dosa at the best restaurant in Chennai ‘Saravan Bhavan’, my student owns, and he had dosa with hand.” If they try to suggest that they don’t have a dosa then it is on. We had a nice meal next to the lake with a man serving us what seemed like every spoonful, but no dosa.
I then got in another half hour workout, followed by about 45 minutes of swimming with Germans in an incredible pool that butted up to the lake as well . Then it was off to the Aruyvedic spa for my three hour treatment. I’ve had my fair share of massages, including one by a French-Canadian named Bam-Bam in Turks and Cacaos, and another in Panachel, Guatemala by an English guy who was good but favored the credit card swipe. This was a whole new level. This was the first one where they outfitted or de-outfitted me for the treatments, which included something akin to a small cheese cloth and some dental floss. I first was sat on a stool, while I had warm oil that smelled of spices rubbed in my hair and then on my shoulders. My massage, as with all the treatments included more oil than all of the treatments I’ve had in my life combined. The table funnels the oil into containers. After the massage my entire body was pounded with a wadded up all ball wrapped in cheese cloth that was repeatedly dipped in very, very hot oil. After this I had something put over my eyes, and a clay pot was suspended over my head. The pot was carefully aligned so a string from the bottom that fell on my forehead. For the next hour hot oil was dripped on my forehead. Even after a long scrubfest in the shower I am still coated with oil.
At dinner I overheard Rajagopal telling another waiter that I like dosa, and then the same story to one of the desk clerks. I’m glad he likes that I like dosa. I may not have a ton of Indian food immediately when I return, but I’m sure I could eat a dosa nearly every day.
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