Kerala Signage

On a police vehicle in Kumily, near the border with the state of Tamil Nadu. Tamil Nadu's roads are much better than Kerala's (currently run by a Communist government, more on that in another post), and they speak Tamil, rather than Malayalam.

IPasted inside an old display case, outside a small dry goods store on Broadway, in Ernakulam.

These signs are painted on walls along the Pamba River, in Alleppey's backwaters.

This is a coffin maker's shingle, outside a small corner house in Pallaruthy, a neighborhood in Kochi, half a block from the front gate of Home of Hope.

Bought a small, metallic bottle of jasmine oil here, and some really strong-tasting rum and raisin chocolate, on Kumily's main drag. The circular logo at the top of the wall reads, "Spicemanship at it's best!"

This sign is in the bustling neighborhood of Thoppumpady, a short autorickshaw ride from Home of Hope. We did a fair amount of shopping here--shirts, sari, books, a chess game for the orphanage, fruit and snacks and ATM transactions.

Rubber

We witnessed the entire early stages of rubber production--from tree tapping to initial processing, rolling and drying. It is sold to the big rubber companies as the dark, dried sheets seen below.

Our host at Vanilla County, a homestay near Vagamon, was Baby Mathew Vallikappen, owner of an amazing plantation that grew everything from rubber to pepper, cardamom, coffee, sandalwood, teak, bananas, pineapples, etc. etc., and of course, vanilla. We took a very long walk one morning through the plantation, with Baby providing a detailed and enthusiastic guide to the myriad trees and spices, their uses and marketability. I introduced him to the truism, "The brokers make you broker," which he seemed to appreciate.

Below, Baby explains the rolling machine, while his brother, George, who lives in a house in another part of the plantation, shows us the building where they smoke the rubber sheets to help dry them out.

Elephant Ride

The elephant ride was satisfying, if a bit arduous, what with the four of us squeezed onto one compliant beast, straining to grip small metal handrails, and jostling up a hill through a spice plantation. But really, a fun experience at a place called Elephant Junction, near Kumily, the closest town to the Periyar Tiger Reserve.

Pete loved watching the baby elephant. And just to show that all's fair in the animal kingdom, the mom and baby below got a ride themselves, on the road between Alleppey and Cochin.

The Sisters

Antony and his Autorickshaw

Antony is a catechism teacher at Home of Hope and lives nearby with his family. We met at breakfast our first day at the orphanage, started talking about getting around town, and he offered to shuttle us to the shops and attractions. In the end, and quite fortunately for us, Antony took care of us for two days, negotiating horrendous, but typical, roads and traffic and getting us to all the Cochin tourist sites that we could handle. One of the big topics of discussion among locals and in the paper was the awful condition of the roads. We could never, I repeat, never, have driven around India on our own. Far too chaotic, crowded and unregulated. And following a map, especially in town? Forget about it.
Antony proudly hosted Nicholas and me at his home after our second day together. We walked through some narrow streets and eventually alleys to get to his small, pleasant house. It was apparently a big deal for his family to meet westerners. His wife served Nicholas a glass of lemonade and I had a glass of tea. In a conversation later with one of the sisters, she noted that Antony lives next door to a Muslim family and emphasized that the local Muslim's are "good people". Antony's wife was taking care of the neighbor's baby the day we were there.
Like many Keralans, Antony worked for years in the wealthy Middle East--in his case Saudi Arabia or Dubai, United Arab Emirates, I can't remember which now. I also don't remember exactly what work he did, but he said he lived in a company town and the pay was not as good as he expected and he almost never saw his family, so he eventually returned to Kerala. He quizzed us about living and working in the U.S. and Australia, as did Lijo, our driver outside Cochin.
Note that Antony's autorickshaw has a decal of the Last Supper on the windshield. The words across the top are written in Malayalam and say something like Grace of God. (Most Christian pronouncements on the vehicles around town were in English). That's Peter's face in the rear view mirror.
At his home Antony showed us his collection of paper money from various countries. He keeps them in sheets of protective plastic pockets in a photo album. I gave him a crisp Iraqi 20 or 50 Dinar note with Saddam Hussein's picture on it. They were discontinued after Saddam's capture. I bought it for a few dollars at a flea market in Port Stephens, near Newcastle. I also gave him a purple Australian five dollar bill.

Home of Hope friends

The first two days in India have been a bit overwhelming, but we're holding up well. The sisters at Home of Hope orphanage in Pallaruthy, a neighborhood in Kerala, did up our room very nicely, although no shower for a week will be a challenge, as will washing in big plastic buckets. Of course, the girls are adorable. Nicholas and Peter and I played with them all day. I brought four good tennis balls, which kept us all occupied making up games outside through the afternoon of our first day here, a Sunday. Sarah bought them all tiny koala bears carrying Australian flags and wearing I love Australia t-shirts. They are clip-on bears, so all the girls were wearing them on their ears, in their hair, etc.
They sang us a welcome song, we told them a bit about ourselves, Nicholas said he felt uncomfortable being the center of attention. Peter had a couple of small meltdowns today--the girls were literally pulling him in different directions and he got frustrated with not being able to ward them off or communicate with them. But all's well. After 18 hours of flying yesterday, we got here at 11PM (3AM Australia time) and by dinner time (about 7:30) after our first full day here, Nick and Pete were out cold. Sarah took some fruit up to the room for them for later.

We are being served royally mealwise (in fact, the bell just rang for 4 o'clock tea as I write). We also attended mass this morning. What a crowded affair! Shoulder to shoulder and only about a dozen pews on one side of the church, so most of the people just say on the floor, with the men and women largely sitting on different sides. And the saris were gorgeous. A riot of color and beautiful patterns. I'm sort of embarrassed to say that we Americans appeared to be the worst-dressed congregants.

After mass we ate breakfast with Fr. George (I think that's his name) then walked over to his Don Bosco center, site of the boys' orphanage. He showed us around, then drove us over to another Don Bosco facility, but Peter couldn't handle anymore building tours, so he drove us back to Home of Hope.

Wallsend

Nicholas' birthday party featured a trip to a laser tag joint in the suburb of Wallsend. I took a stroll around the business district while he and his friends blasted each other with red light. The old bottles were featured among other dusty artifacts in a barber shop window. (Note that the insect repellent was manufactured in sub-tropical Brisbane.)
Like our neighborhood, Hamilton, which was originally called Pit Town, Wallsend was a coal mine site. James Fletcher made his money from coal and founded the hospital where Sarah works. There's a full-body statue of him in the park across from the hospital.

Kangaroos and Vineyards

Another trip to Morisset, to feed white bread to the kangaroos, and the Hunter Valley vineyards. A nice introduction to Australia, I think, for our friend Gina Landi, who landed in Sydney from Queens, NY, and jumped straight on a train to Morisset.

Cessnock Hotels and Heroes

Cessnock is a main gateway to the Hunter Valley vineyards. It's considered a country town and is about 45 minutes from Hamilton. Nicholas had a soccer game here a while back, and one of the modern greats of rugby league football, Andrew Johns, is a native son. He played for the Newcastle Knights, retired earlier this year, and about a month ago made a media splash when he was arrested for drug possession in London. Turns out that he had a major drug and alcohol problem throughout his career.

Springtime in Gregson Park

Spring is funny here. We learned in Port Douglas that the Aborigines mark 7 seasons, at least in Queensland--the windy season, the rainy season, etc. In Gregson Park, half a block from our house and across the street from Nick and Pete's school, trees and flowers are blooming, but a few big fig trees recently lost their leaves, spreading a yellow carpet underfoot. So spring with a dash of fall.
The photos of fig (banyan) trees, and others below, are from fall and (Australian) winter. Thought they were worth a look too. Tennis courts and club house, gardens, a playground, bowling lawns with a restaurant, bar and club ... Peter learned to ride a two-wheeler bike here and Nicholas is improving on his skateboard, which he just got for his birthday. A small all-purpose, inner-city park that Pittsburgh would do well to replicate.