A Journey to Well Known Places

I am in Kochi taking computer classes. It is a coastal town in the state of Kerala. Kerala is one of the richest and most advanced states in India; which means there are no dead bodies or cows in the streets. The literacy rate is close to 98% and the state government is communistic. My classes are from 7:30am to 9:30am. Those who know me, know that this schedule is contrary to my convention and my constitution. Yesterday at the end of class my instructor told me that tomorrow there may be a bus strike. If there is a strike then there will be no class. “How will I know if there is a strike?” I asked. The reply was that if the offices are closed when I arrive then I will know there is no class. “Hmmmm, how do I tell if there is a strike without taking a shower, getting ready and coming all the way down here.” Oh, if there are no rickshaws there is a strike. If you see rickshaws there is no strike. OK, easy enough. Last night I went to bed at my usual time of 10:30, but I did not set my alarm. I woke up at around 8, put on some shorts and went into the hall way to look down onto the street. As I did I saw a rickshaw speed by. Thinking I was now late for class I got ready quickly and headed downstairs. It was immediately obvious that something was amiss. All the shops along the street were closed. Even the restaurants were locked up…..so no breakfast. I hailed a rickshaw and had him take me to my class; which was also closed. On the way there though it was like passing through a ghost town. There were a few people here and there, but the usual chaos and cacophony of my morning commute was non-existent. When I got back to the hotel I asked where I could get breakfast. “No, all closed” then man said. “Because of the bus strike?” I asked. “No, a general protest” he replied. It seems that things like food and raw materials have been getting more expensive in Kochi and the people got mad. So they shut it all down for the day. Restaurants, movie theatres, optometrists, bus service, everything but the airport and train station is closed. I have never seen the like. I am not sure what good it will do, but it is interesting to see the political process at work in foreign lands.

Well, after traveling together 24X7 for 7 months Erica and I have parted ways. It was a great journey together. I lost my credit card in Yogyakarta and the Indian airline would not let us get on the flight without the original credit card used to buy the tickets. Never mind that we had our passports; which are good enough for foreign countries but not for the airline it seems. We had to cancel our tickets are repurchase with another carrier. Since Erica really took to diving and I was going to be holed up in a class room for several months we decided that it would be a good time for us to pursue different paths. Erica went to Thailand and is now in Costa Rica visiting her father.

I came to India; Kerala to be exact. I flew Sri Lankan airlines. It was pretty posh. They took every available opportunity to feed me. On the first four hour leg of the journey they fed me a snack, breakfast, and coffee. I had a stopover in Colombo. When I got off the plane I was ushered past formidable security into a van that took me to a hotel where a nice buffet lunch was waiting. On the ride out I passed several fortified check points complete with heavy machine guns and lots of army men. A week later rebels blew up two buses in Colombo so I can see why the authorities were so vigilant.

The stopover was 8 hours and I had little to do, so it was quite boring. I ate and took the shuttle back to the airport. Luckily I found a café with wireless so I could kill time on the internet for a while. The last flight was only 45 minutes to Kochi. They fed me dinner. I barely had time to finish eating before the stewardess came by and made me put my tray up.

I enrolled in my courses and found a hotel. I paid for a month in advance for an alright room. It is not luxury by most standards, but it is clean and has a desk for my computer. There are not a lot of tourists in this part of town.

There is not a lot to see in the town itself. Most of the tourists stay on an island in the bay colonized by the British long ago called Fort Cochin. Most things work the way that they should and the smell is not bad in most places. There is a lot of trash on the street and a gutter system with truly disgusting water moving at a snail’s pace if at all. The water bubbles like it is fermenting and the smell is potent if you get too close. The sidewalk is missing big pieces, so if you don’t watch were you step you could drop two feet in to the brackish water below. Aside from those things it is not a bad place. The people are friendly and there are plenty of good restaurants around. Besides I am here to learn more than to have a good time.

The island of Java was not exactly as I was expecting it to be; not that my expectations were far reaching. Java is by far the most populous island in the 6000 island archipelago and it shows. It was not ... [Continue reading this entry]