i've been doing some reading and am resurrecting "books on the brownside", a commentary i used to write on indian literature. although i think i only had about three entries...
so here's the fourth!
the latest i've read is arundhati roy's the god of small things - a brilliant novel that takes place in ayemenem, a village in the backwaters close to kottayam and alleppey, where i stayed in kerala over the holidays.
roy is a bit of a genius.
her writing style is very dense, making the reading a bit distracting, but through the story filled with drama, class struggle, sex, murder, and a lot of the local language of kerala, malayam, she is able to provide the reader with historical, social, economic and political context of the area. this was a welcome read as it helped me understand kerala's communist past, the noticeable absence of homeless in alleppey, and the contrasting high suicide and literacy rates (as commented on in god's own country).
it's a classic micro-macro story, where the struggles and stories of three generations of the Ipe family are direct results of the framework of the social structures in which they are forced to live. it describes caste clash mainly through "love laws": who can be loved, and how, and how much.
the thing i didn't like was that roy kept the deep dark secret until the end. but her style and descriptiveness kept me going. it's a tragedy, yet a major comment on feminism and colonialism. india has its own problems, but the solutions have to come from the inside, not from colonialisation, indian self-hatred, and india's ridiculous love and unconditional acceptance of the west.
i totally identified with ammu and rahel, the two central women characters. they refused to accept the oppression that was served to them, and as indian women, acted contrary to society's expectations, of course bringing on the harsh but expected punishments from their oppressors!
after completing the novel, i felt a bit drained and so the geek that i am, i read this great dissertation on the book from the university of utrecht. it explores colonialism, feminism, politics and the literary style of the book. of particular interest were pages 7, 11, 13... despite a few flaws, i highly recommend it. only of course, after reading the book itself.
goes well with keralan tea, nitin sawhney and a long hug afterwards...
four stars
handy dandy study guide
Showing posts with label kerala. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kerala. Show all posts
12.27.2006
12.27 deep dark secret!
so we're on the houseboat for 24 hours.
what began as delight has now become doldrum. kerala is lovely but there are only so many rice fields to look at, only so many backwaters churches and ashrams to take in, only so many times to guest-drive the boat. let's face it. skipper and gilligan had it right - all you need is a three-hour tour. ok, and a professor.
as night falls, i start to hate houseboats. boat crews work most of the year away from their families. for a half-decent living they toil away in the burning sun, cooking, cleaning and lugging our crap around, so we can lounge out on a boat? if i had to repeat this, i'd choose a zippy motorboat, thank you very much.
sun descends and the crew brings us the most scrumptious dinner crowned with kerala fish. we ask them to join us but they decide to eat in the kitchen. for 15 minutes, the captain joins us for chai, telling us about his wife and teenage kids at home. i admit, you can't get this on a motorboat.
afterwards, as we dock the boat for the night, my father says: do you know your great-grandfather was murdered?
jackpot!
suddenly i'm grateful for being shipwrecked with my parents! i guess it took being stuck with him for a couple of weeks for my father to finally talk about his family. tonight i get to hear some deep dark secrets! it's no wonder he's been hush. my grandfather would never tell him who poisoned my great-grandfather... or why. back then it was usually one of two things: greed or revenge. a good story, in any case!
my great-grandfather was from gujarat. a general in the british army, he left his family in india and served in africa for 10 years. 10 years is a long time. it was only natural that my grandfather (an only child) suspected he had some half-siblings in africa. after her husband's death (murder), my great-grandmother left her home and farm, took whatever she had and traveled to africa with her son, who in turn spent his life building businesses, gambling like a fiend, marrying and divorcing, and... scouring the continent for his siblings.
he lived an amzaing life. in africa, he was a risk-taker. he bid on a road-building contract, which he won with no experience and not enough capital to start. he was a networker, though. he somehow found a fleet of trucks, supplies and staff within five days and started building his first business. after the road-building, he kept his fleet of trucks and had a transportation company. he opened up stores in east african cities, giving them over to locals with the understanding he'd need to collect some profits and use their guest homes every once in a while. he was also a religious man. he never missed going to the mosque in the evenings. despite that, he loved gambling and took his driver around with him everywhere, including clubs with member only access. he'd get away with anything. people knew him as "chacha panda", which means "uncle panda" [panda is a city in east africa...]. my grandmother left him and their three sons, when my father was only two years old. my great-grandmother - the sailor - ended up raising the boys. eventually they each went to boarding schools, colleges and even joined the army themselves. by the time my father got married and moved to toronto, my grandfather was loan-sharking. he kept my father updated on his banking accounts and businesses in case anything happened to him. but my father began to fear he'd get murdered too, and he and his brothers convinced him and his wife to move to toronto. my grandfather lived a more sedate life in canada, but a good life...
at 68, my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer and given 6 months to live. he bought himself and his wife a world ticket and took off. while out gambling one night in london, he met a top oncologist from mumbai. on hearing that my grandfather had cancer with only a few months to live, the oncologist invited him to visit. so my grandfather went to mumbai. he was treated by the oncologist and lived for another 8 years. he got a flat in a complex inside hassanabad, where his friends lived in mumbai, where he stayed with his wife and enjoyed his time there thoroughly. after he died, he gave his wife a truckload of cash and built her a very nice house his old gujarati village. her brother, a very nasty, evil, crooked, and notorious man, began stealing and controlling her money and moved his family into her village and into her house. eventually she died and her brother took over her wealth and property.
a couple of years ago, my uncle went to india to meet the family. he was confronted with hostility - the man-in-the-house thought my uncle had come to claim the property. see, the deed was in my grandfather's name, so the property could very realistically be claimed by his son now that his wife had passed away. the man-in-the-house did everything to hide the fact that he stole the house from my grandfather's wife. he had a fake deed issued and caused a scene outside the house, trying to chase my uncle away with it. in fact, he reported my uncle to the local police and tried to get him arrested on false charges of abuse. luckily, he is notorious in the village and so my uncle was tipped off by a sympathetic cop. my uncle fled before being arrested. [this is why my father used a fake name when we went there...]
but there's more. what nobody knew was that before he died, my grandfather planned on adopting the man in the house's son to provide his wife with a 'family' after he was gone. my grandfather didn't like the idea of her brother raising the boy. the boy would be safer and raised properly with her. the-man-in-the-house found out about the process and decided it was a good idea: his natural son would then inherit my grandfather's property, making it accessible to him. the adoption process stalled and papers are now missing. the man-in-the-house is looking for them, so he can get them "notorized" and find my dad or his brothers to demand financial support for his son, their "adopted brother"! i don't know if any of this is actually possible but it's what my dad is telling me. i wonder: if he got a fake deed, why couldn't he get fake adoption papers?
the story goes on... in the distance, i hear fireoworks popping. it's well after christmas and not yet new years, but indians are obsessed with fireworks. i decide to go lie down. i feel as though i've just watched an old movie. i'm happy that my father has decided to tell me some of his deep dark secrets.
i remember the last time i saw my grandfather. he was so thin and sick and i hugged him so hard. i suddenly miss him very much... i'd like to visit his grave in bombay before we fly home.
what began as delight has now become doldrum. kerala is lovely but there are only so many rice fields to look at, only so many backwaters churches and ashrams to take in, only so many times to guest-drive the boat. let's face it. skipper and gilligan had it right - all you need is a three-hour tour. ok, and a professor.
as night falls, i start to hate houseboats. boat crews work most of the year away from their families. for a half-decent living they toil away in the burning sun, cooking, cleaning and lugging our crap around, so we can lounge out on a boat? if i had to repeat this, i'd choose a zippy motorboat, thank you very much.
sun descends and the crew brings us the most scrumptious dinner crowned with kerala fish. we ask them to join us but they decide to eat in the kitchen. for 15 minutes, the captain joins us for chai, telling us about his wife and teenage kids at home. i admit, you can't get this on a motorboat.
afterwards, as we dock the boat for the night, my father says: do you know your great-grandfather was murdered?
jackpot!
suddenly i'm grateful for being shipwrecked with my parents! i guess it took being stuck with him for a couple of weeks for my father to finally talk about his family. tonight i get to hear some deep dark secrets! it's no wonder he's been hush. my grandfather would never tell him who poisoned my great-grandfather... or why. back then it was usually one of two things: greed or revenge. a good story, in any case!
my great-grandfather was from gujarat. a general in the british army, he left his family in india and served in africa for 10 years. 10 years is a long time. it was only natural that my grandfather (an only child) suspected he had some half-siblings in africa. after her husband's death (murder), my great-grandmother left her home and farm, took whatever she had and traveled to africa with her son, who in turn spent his life building businesses, gambling like a fiend, marrying and divorcing, and... scouring the continent for his siblings.
he lived an amzaing life. in africa, he was a risk-taker. he bid on a road-building contract, which he won with no experience and not enough capital to start. he was a networker, though. he somehow found a fleet of trucks, supplies and staff within five days and started building his first business. after the road-building, he kept his fleet of trucks and had a transportation company. he opened up stores in east african cities, giving them over to locals with the understanding he'd need to collect some profits and use their guest homes every once in a while. he was also a religious man. he never missed going to the mosque in the evenings. despite that, he loved gambling and took his driver around with him everywhere, including clubs with member only access. he'd get away with anything. people knew him as "chacha panda", which means "uncle panda" [panda is a city in east africa...]. my grandmother left him and their three sons, when my father was only two years old. my great-grandmother - the sailor - ended up raising the boys. eventually they each went to boarding schools, colleges and even joined the army themselves. by the time my father got married and moved to toronto, my grandfather was loan-sharking. he kept my father updated on his banking accounts and businesses in case anything happened to him. but my father began to fear he'd get murdered too, and he and his brothers convinced him and his wife to move to toronto. my grandfather lived a more sedate life in canada, but a good life...
at 68, my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer and given 6 months to live. he bought himself and his wife a world ticket and took off. while out gambling one night in london, he met a top oncologist from mumbai. on hearing that my grandfather had cancer with only a few months to live, the oncologist invited him to visit. so my grandfather went to mumbai. he was treated by the oncologist and lived for another 8 years. he got a flat in a complex inside hassanabad, where his friends lived in mumbai, where he stayed with his wife and enjoyed his time there thoroughly. after he died, he gave his wife a truckload of cash and built her a very nice house his old gujarati village. her brother, a very nasty, evil, crooked, and notorious man, began stealing and controlling her money and moved his family into her village and into her house. eventually she died and her brother took over her wealth and property.
a couple of years ago, my uncle went to india to meet the family. he was confronted with hostility - the man-in-the-house thought my uncle had come to claim the property. see, the deed was in my grandfather's name, so the property could very realistically be claimed by his son now that his wife had passed away. the man-in-the-house did everything to hide the fact that he stole the house from my grandfather's wife. he had a fake deed issued and caused a scene outside the house, trying to chase my uncle away with it. in fact, he reported my uncle to the local police and tried to get him arrested on false charges of abuse. luckily, he is notorious in the village and so my uncle was tipped off by a sympathetic cop. my uncle fled before being arrested. [this is why my father used a fake name when we went there...]
but there's more. what nobody knew was that before he died, my grandfather planned on adopting the man in the house's son to provide his wife with a 'family' after he was gone. my grandfather didn't like the idea of her brother raising the boy. the boy would be safer and raised properly with her. the-man-in-the-house found out about the process and decided it was a good idea: his natural son would then inherit my grandfather's property, making it accessible to him. the adoption process stalled and papers are now missing. the man-in-the-house is looking for them, so he can get them "notorized" and find my dad or his brothers to demand financial support for his son, their "adopted brother"! i don't know if any of this is actually possible but it's what my dad is telling me. i wonder: if he got a fake deed, why couldn't he get fake adoption papers?
the story goes on... in the distance, i hear fireoworks popping. it's well after christmas and not yet new years, but indians are obsessed with fireworks. i decide to go lie down. i feel as though i've just watched an old movie. i'm happy that my father has decided to tell me some of his deep dark secrets.
i remember the last time i saw my grandfather. he was so thin and sick and i hugged him so hard. i suddenly miss him very much... i'd like to visit his grave in bombay before we fly home.
12.27 on the water
today we hit the water... to explore the backwaters of kerala on a houseboat!
our captain meets us on the dock in alleppy. he's an older man in a blue luungi and looks like he's spent his entire life toiling in the sun. he smiles with his eyes. crewmembers take our bags and escort us to the boat. we board via a wobbly plank that is wide as my foot.
i've never seen a houseboat before. a giant gujarati shipwrecking town supplies hardware for keralan houseboats. the bodies i hear are made without nails or screws. ours has light hardwood floors, a lounge and dining table right out front. a framed jesus follows me with his eyes: "i am holy. i love you... but i am watching you!"
i ignore him and explore...
open air windows surround the boat and a hallway leads to bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchen and crew's quarters. stairs lead up from the dining room through the ceiling. like a kid i scurry up, and find an elevated lounge, with an open-air sunbathing perch up top of that, looking out onto the waters ahead. this is my spot!!
and ahoy. we are afloat.
`
the backwaters are a little dark. there are numerous other boats out on the water and tourists size up each's watercraft: size, design, upkeep, speed, driver, crew and so on. it's a bit annoying. locals keep little boats instead of cars to scoot around in.
we cruise along a stretch of the 200km waterway and india is happening by the shore. people make their homes along the backwaters. a concrete built up "sidewalk" lines the water, houses behind it, farmlands and sunken lime-green rice fields extending into the distance.
the water sees all: bathing, dishwashing, clothes washing, teeth brushing, and who knows what else. it's kind of refreshing in a weird way. i feel like a voyeur watching everyone knee-deep performing their daily water-chores.
one degree of climate change
every once in a while we see bunches of greenery with purply flowers shooting up from underwater. this infestation of growth is new: the direct result of climate change. it's less than one degree of global warming, but the ecology of the backwaters is changing rapidly. i wonder if backwater lifeforms are coping, adapting, to this infestation and who knows what other changes. do people here care enough to do something about it?
my answer comes quick; a canoe floats by, full of recycling!
the crew are working really hard and bring us all sorts of food to eat. it's divine. i gobble it up and return upstairs to my sun spot. a little after lunch nap never hurt anyone!!
our captain meets us on the dock in alleppy. he's an older man in a blue luungi and looks like he's spent his entire life toiling in the sun. he smiles with his eyes. crewmembers take our bags and escort us to the boat. we board via a wobbly plank that is wide as my foot.
i've never seen a houseboat before. a giant gujarati shipwrecking town supplies hardware for keralan houseboats. the bodies i hear are made without nails or screws. ours has light hardwood floors, a lounge and dining table right out front. a framed jesus follows me with his eyes: "i am holy. i love you... but i am watching you!"
i ignore him and explore...
open air windows surround the boat and a hallway leads to bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchen and crew's quarters. stairs lead up from the dining room through the ceiling. like a kid i scurry up, and find an elevated lounge, with an open-air sunbathing perch up top of that, looking out onto the waters ahead. this is my spot!!
and ahoy. we are afloat.
`
the backwaters are a little dark. there are numerous other boats out on the water and tourists size up each's watercraft: size, design, upkeep, speed, driver, crew and so on. it's a bit annoying. locals keep little boats instead of cars to scoot around in.
we cruise along a stretch of the 200km waterway and india is happening by the shore. people make their homes along the backwaters. a concrete built up "sidewalk" lines the water, houses behind it, farmlands and sunken lime-green rice fields extending into the distance.
the water sees all: bathing, dishwashing, clothes washing, teeth brushing, and who knows what else. it's kind of refreshing in a weird way. i feel like a voyeur watching everyone knee-deep performing their daily water-chores.
one degree of climate change
every once in a while we see bunches of greenery with purply flowers shooting up from underwater. this infestation of growth is new: the direct result of climate change. it's less than one degree of global warming, but the ecology of the backwaters is changing rapidly. i wonder if backwater lifeforms are coping, adapting, to this infestation and who knows what other changes. do people here care enough to do something about it?
my answer comes quick; a canoe floats by, full of recycling!
the crew are working really hard and bring us all sorts of food to eat. it's divine. i gobble it up and return upstairs to my sun spot. a little after lunch nap never hurt anyone!!
12.26.2006
12.26 god's own country
what strikes me about alleppy (or now, allapuhza) in opposition to other parts of india i've seen - is the most apparent absence of hunger in the streets.
nowhere do i see anyone asking for money. not in the markets, on sidewalks, in night spaces, outside temples (a most popular spot as visitors usually give generously to the poor outside places of worship = perhaps to be seen in a brighter light by a higher power....). it was really a contrast compared to the north... i'm curious to see whether this is the same in the keralan capital, cochin, or other parts of kerala, or other parts of the south, ie. pondicherry in tamil nadu, where i go next.
in any case, i do know this: the economy of kerala is the best in the country and the literacy rate in kerala is 100%. kerala operated as a socialist state, which would explain how the standard of living seems strikingly balanced. there are rich land-owners here but there are no signs of ultra-poor. conversely, i've also heard that the suicide rate in kerala is the highest in india. i wonder if this has anything to do with the lack of ultra-poor? this leaves me questioning what standards of living are based on... a healthy economy and high literacy rate, or the number of suicides. of course, there is a lot of controversy over kerala, with many people who believe it's only a matter of time before kerala's statistics align more closely with the rest of the country...
i do know this: kerala is called "god's own country", which most people believe is because of the lush jungles, tropical climate and lovely beaches. the origins of the title, "god's own country" is probably urban mythology... the warrior god vishnu went on a killing spree, exterminating warrior kings to take over their land. confronted by his conscience, he prayed a top a mountain. a sea god appeared, forgave him, and offered him land equal to the distance he could throw his spear, which was from the mountaintop down to the southern tip of india. land suddenly rose up from the sea, now known as kerala or, "god's own country".
lucky me, i get to see more of this 'country' tomorrow on a houseboat... i've been wanting to get on the water for a while and this will be a great way to see the natural beauty of kerala... through its backwaters.
nowhere do i see anyone asking for money. not in the markets, on sidewalks, in night spaces, outside temples (a most popular spot as visitors usually give generously to the poor outside places of worship = perhaps to be seen in a brighter light by a higher power....). it was really a contrast compared to the north... i'm curious to see whether this is the same in the keralan capital, cochin, or other parts of kerala, or other parts of the south, ie. pondicherry in tamil nadu, where i go next.
in any case, i do know this: the economy of kerala is the best in the country and the literacy rate in kerala is 100%. kerala operated as a socialist state, which would explain how the standard of living seems strikingly balanced. there are rich land-owners here but there are no signs of ultra-poor. conversely, i've also heard that the suicide rate in kerala is the highest in india. i wonder if this has anything to do with the lack of ultra-poor? this leaves me questioning what standards of living are based on... a healthy economy and high literacy rate, or the number of suicides. of course, there is a lot of controversy over kerala, with many people who believe it's only a matter of time before kerala's statistics align more closely with the rest of the country...
i do know this: kerala is called "god's own country", which most people believe is because of the lush jungles, tropical climate and lovely beaches. the origins of the title, "god's own country" is probably urban mythology... the warrior god vishnu went on a killing spree, exterminating warrior kings to take over their land. confronted by his conscience, he prayed a top a mountain. a sea god appeared, forgave him, and offered him land equal to the distance he could throw his spear, which was from the mountaintop down to the southern tip of india. land suddenly rose up from the sea, now known as kerala or, "god's own country".
lucky me, i get to see more of this 'country' tomorrow on a houseboat... i've been wanting to get on the water for a while and this will be a great way to see the natural beauty of kerala... through its backwaters.
12.25.2006
12.25 coconuts
the coconut is no mere fruit. it's food, medicine, shelter, clothing and music all in one.
no part of the coconut plant will go to waste. in fact, you are said to be blessed if you have coconut trees growing on your property. the coconut tree lasts for 10 years or more, and will produce 10 or more coconuts each season.
i'm amazed at what you can make with coconuts!! the coconut water is probably the most pure source of water you can find. aside from eating and drinking it up, you can use the liquid for intravenous fluid... the leaves for shelter, baskets, clothing, storage... the outside shell to make shirt buttons, musical instruments, floor buffers, canoes, women's bikinis... the husk for string, rope, fuel... not to mention the tree itself as source of wood or a kid's playground!
here's the wiki article on coconuts. i'm not lying, you can see for yourself!
today i'll get a coconut massage. can't wait!
no part of the coconut plant will go to waste. in fact, you are said to be blessed if you have coconut trees growing on your property. the coconut tree lasts for 10 years or more, and will produce 10 or more coconuts each season.
i'm amazed at what you can make with coconuts!! the coconut water is probably the most pure source of water you can find. aside from eating and drinking it up, you can use the liquid for intravenous fluid... the leaves for shelter, baskets, clothing, storage... the outside shell to make shirt buttons, musical instruments, floor buffers, canoes, women's bikinis... the husk for string, rope, fuel... not to mention the tree itself as source of wood or a kid's playground!
here's the wiki article on coconuts. i'm not lying, you can see for yourself!
today i'll get a coconut massage. can't wait!
12.24.2006
12.24 kerala and kritters
kerala is a paradise.
everything is green and lush. and alive.
seriously. turtles appear by your feet. geckos play tag on walls and ceilings. birds swoop into the open-air bathroom to peck in grasses and stones surrounding the shower. sometimes, bugs crawl into your ears and lay eggs in your sinuses and cheekbones...
by day, alleppy - this sleepy little town - is quaint and peaceful. our cottage is in a secluded area, where the beach meets the backwaters about 50 feet from the shore. salt water and fresh water separated by a thin stretch of sand...
as night falls, the town seethes. it's christmas season and that means the streets are packed. music pours out of giant speakers in the streets. roads are closed off to motorists and thousands of people are smushed up against each another, shuffling along the two main drags. it's hard to breathe. at times, the crowd gridlocks. there are NO other tourists in sight... this is a keralan party all the way! families and packs of young men (no packs of young women out at night) visit temples, watch the elephant make its rounds, make offerings to the lingum and yoni statues (representing shiva and skakti, man and woman respectively), take in the devotional singing, eat at roadside stands, partake in candle-lighting ceremonies, watch booming fireworks (indians have a firework addiction), people-watch and visit shops lining the streets.
a bumpy ride back through thickets (we have to 4X4 through forest) and i finally get back to the cottage. i am hot and sweaty and happy. i clean up and want to pass out. on my bed, a giant frog pops into the air and scares my face off. with jangled nerves, i call front desk and perma-smirk guy comes to remove it for me... how embarrasing.
i lay down for a few minutes, the bed claiming my body like a big bear hug. i suddenly hear my mom's urgent voice from the doorway suggesting i sit up fast. on my headboard a bright green gecko peers down at my face.
which means another restless night for me! many people come to kerala to unwind and relax, but not me. i love that this place is so fresh, so green, so alive. i just wish it wasn't so alive so close up in my face...
everything is green and lush. and alive.
seriously. turtles appear by your feet. geckos play tag on walls and ceilings. birds swoop into the open-air bathroom to peck in grasses and stones surrounding the shower. sometimes, bugs crawl into your ears and lay eggs in your sinuses and cheekbones...
by day, alleppy - this sleepy little town - is quaint and peaceful. our cottage is in a secluded area, where the beach meets the backwaters about 50 feet from the shore. salt water and fresh water separated by a thin stretch of sand...
as night falls, the town seethes. it's christmas season and that means the streets are packed. music pours out of giant speakers in the streets. roads are closed off to motorists and thousands of people are smushed up against each another, shuffling along the two main drags. it's hard to breathe. at times, the crowd gridlocks. there are NO other tourists in sight... this is a keralan party all the way! families and packs of young men (no packs of young women out at night) visit temples, watch the elephant make its rounds, make offerings to the lingum and yoni statues (representing shiva and skakti, man and woman respectively), take in the devotional singing, eat at roadside stands, partake in candle-lighting ceremonies, watch booming fireworks (indians have a firework addiction), people-watch and visit shops lining the streets.
a bumpy ride back through thickets (we have to 4X4 through forest) and i finally get back to the cottage. i am hot and sweaty and happy. i clean up and want to pass out. on my bed, a giant frog pops into the air and scares my face off. with jangled nerves, i call front desk and perma-smirk guy comes to remove it for me... how embarrasing.
i lay down for a few minutes, the bed claiming my body like a big bear hug. i suddenly hear my mom's urgent voice from the doorway suggesting i sit up fast. on my headboard a bright green gecko peers down at my face.
which means another restless night for me! many people come to kerala to unwind and relax, but not me. i love that this place is so fresh, so green, so alive. i just wish it wasn't so alive so close up in my face...
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