India, Sri Lanka & Kenya Travelogue
These entries were written at internet cafes from around the world. They appear here as originally written.
Table of Contents
Entry #1 - "Greetings from India"
Entry #2 - "Sir Lee in Sri Lanka"
Entry #3 - "Mr. Canada leaves Colombo"
Entry #4 - "Wayanad Wanderings"
Entry #5 - "43 days gone, 43 days to go..."
Entry #6 - "Taxi touts, tourist angels, and intestinal parasites, oh my!"
Entry #7 - "I Dreamed of Cheetahs"
Entry #1 - "Greetings from India"
May 9, 2006, 8:00 PM
Mamallapuram, India
Hello everyone,
I'm sitting here in an internet cafe in Mamallapuram, a world away from Canada and yet still connected by email. It is strange to be at a computer with high-speed internet (or at least, what is claimed to be, but when it comes to goods and services one never seems to know for sure what you are getting here in India). As I type I feel at odds, somehow.
After travelling for twenty-five hours, hopping from London to Dubai to Chennai (Madras), Tanya and I crashed from utter exhaustion, sleeping more than half a day away. Our first drive through the streets of Chennai offered an overwhelming introduction, as our taxi driver used his horn more often than his brakes. Stop seems to mean go, and drivers only halt when a collision is imminent, which is all too often based on the motorcyclist we saw lying in the middle of the road earlier today. We ended up at a rather fancy place in Chennai, complete with air conditioning (a godsend!), room service, and even a TV that got all of one fuzzy channel.
Yesterday we made our way to Marina beach, the second longest in the world. We were 
the only white in a sea of Indians. More than a thousand pairs of eyes must've stared at us, mostly curious or comical, but always smiling. Tanya garnered most of the attention. Even though her outfit wasn't low cut, it didn't stop the men from ogling (or the women for that matter, though they didn't seem to disapprove, but were checking to see if they should). I did my best to act as bodyguard. The women wading into the water in their saris was a sight most colourful and spectacular.
After another marathon sleeping session, we arrived in Mamallapuram today, staying at the Siva Guest house, less than one-tenth what we paid at Hotel Shelter. I've sweated a pound or two away this afternoon, though the real heat is to come in the months ahead. Our trip has been exciting so far, and scary at times, with little knowledge of what the next day might bring. I look forward to the challenges ahead.
Cheers,
Lee
PS - Haggling is an art form, and one I have yet to master.
Entry #2 - "Sir Lee in Sri Lanka"
May 15, 2006, 6:40 pm
Colombo, Sri Lanka
Hello all,
Two mornings ago, Tanya and I were sitting in the Trichy airport in south India, waiting for our plane to Sri Lanka. The sun proceeded to rise above the horizon, a vast orange sphere that moved at such a speed I questioned my eyes as to its veracity. Security was extremely tight, with our luggage being searched twice and then verified by us visually before we got on the plane, and we were treated to enough pat downs that I started to wonder if they expected a tip for the repeated body massages.
Getting to Trichy one could say was tricky. From Pondicherry, the first hour was done by bus, and relatively painless. Then we switched to train, and the madness began. Every train was full, and each person we asked for help directed us somewhere more unsuitable. After attempting to find a spot in half a dozen cars the train whistle blew, and Tanya and I looked at each other in complete exasperation. As it turns out, in order to get a seat you have to book at least fifteen days in advance.
The train began to move, and even more people crowded on to the beyond capacity passenger train. We ran to the closest car, and Tanya jumped on with a mighty leap. With her 14 kilogram backpack and the momentum of the moving train, it isn't surprising that she fell, banging her knees rather roughly. I leapt on after her and helped pull her up. Thankfully, two kind men found a spot for us, after telling us we should've got on earlier (argh!) and shared conversation for most of the journey. I think we were both glad to get off the train, and that method of travel will involve much more pre-planning in the future.
The pollution in India can be incapacitating. The humid air reeks of exhaust in the cities, and I'm forced to cover my face whenever riding in a three-wheeled rickshaw. I've lost track of how many times I've witnessed men urinating off the sidewalks. Poverty abounds, and beggars are never easy to contend with. While in the bustling bazaar, surrounded by a sea of people, a man started following us, eventually in his persistence grabbing my arm and touching my hand to his amputated limb, a short stub adjacent to his shoulder. I feel helpless at these times, because there are so many people who are so very poor. What is the best way to help these people? By giving them 10 rupees? There is a lot more that needs to be done.
Today, we witnessed sanga dana, the giving of food to Buddhist monks. The procession
of about a hundred bald, smiling, orange-clad men was endearing. To see such kindess offered to these spiritual disciples is not something to be seen in North America, which makes me forlorn. These monks were almost like movie stars. I find it much more sensible to worship the wise rather than the rich, or one who can accurately hit a puck with a stick.
Most people have been exceedingly friendly and kind. One man with his family guided us through the rock fort temple in Trichy for two hours, spending more time with Tanya and I than his wife and two daughters. A group of children and teenagers gathered around us and were fascinated to hear our thoughts on India and what we did in Canada. After we took one picture, they wanted countless more, and to see their picture on the digital display. It seems all Tanya and I have to do is say "hello" to elicit a hearty chuckle from the children.
Our first day in Sri Lanka, the generosity offered to us was unexpected but overwhelmingly heart-warming. We had only planned four or five days here, mostly so Tanya could attend a spiritual gathering, but we have both fallen in love with the people and the environment that we'll likely be here twice that length of time. Ancient cities, giant Buddha statues, virgin rainforest and something referred to as the eight wonder of the world (no, it's not king kong) await us this next week.
Cheers,
Lee
Entry #3 - "Mr. Canada leaves Colombo"
May 26, 2006, 3:30 pm
Kochi, India
Hello all,
Sri Lanka has come and gone. Eleven days we had there, and it seems like a blur now, but in that time we covered many miles and many emotions. Compared to India, the landscape has more green, the people aren't as pushy, and the pollution isn't as widespread. On the coin's flipside, army checkpoints are so common that the sight of an officer with a rather large rifle in his hands was one I almost came habituated to seeing. The roads are just as crazy. At night, if a passing car doesn't flash his highbeams at you it means the driver is either alseep at the wheel or his headlights aren't working. There seems to be a code to honking the horn in Sri Lanka: one is used as a "thank you", two indicates you want to pass, and three appears to be a "get out of my way!" Car horns create a cacophony of sound in all cities, replacing the morning songbirds at dawn found in more rural areas.
There is too much to write about Sri Lanka. Watching 40 elephants bathe in the river, seeing the 14 meter high standing Buddha statue, climbing atop Sigiriya the ancient palace known as the eighth wonder of the world, spotting a six-foot water monitor lizard starting to swim in the waters of a small lake, and being on the beach near Galle where I got to play my first game of Cricket with the locals. So I'll focus on my favourite: Sinharaja, the world heritage rainforest.
We started early, wanting to make the most of the day. Unfortunately, we had to wait for our guide to arrive, and then wait for the ticket issuer to do the same. The forest was quite dense, though I worried we wouldn't have time to get off the beaten path. Chaminda, our guide, seemed to sense my desire to explore the deeper jungle, as he called it, and took us to an area only he and his friend take tourists into. The way was treacherous, with narrow, makeshift log bridges spanning deep chasms adding an exciting element of adventure. Leeches became the primary annoyance, dozens constantly visible on the path, their suckers raised into the air, hoping to attach to something with a circulatory system. Poor Tanya got the worst of it, as they seemed to like her blood best, yet one especially crafty critter found his way into my belly button, a not-so-pleasant surprise I didn't discover until he had already got his fill of my life fluid.
We saw a number of wildlife, including a strikingly green snake and a giant squirrel, and heard an alpha male monkey shrieking his dominance high up in the canopy. But for me it wasn't a question of checking off a list as we spotted each animal. Experiencing a forest such as this, with all its smells and sounds and layers of life, is a feeling I can't properly describe. After a couple hours of trekking, there were no people around, and the energy of the ecosystem was palpable. Here, more than anywhere, I felt connected.
It was an exhausting hike, but my adrenaline-induced body didn't realize the extent of fatigue until well after the journey was over. I haven't felt more inspired to write than during that day, and took pictures in my mind of the characters in my upcoming novel journeying through similar terrain.
Mr. Canada, for those wondering, is what a tout (someone trying to sell us something) called me one day, spotting the Canadian flag on my pack. I told him I wasn't interested in his wares, and he proceeded to ask me what price I would be willing to pay. "Zero rupees!" I informed him, and he consented, wanting to place the item in question into my hand. I didn't fall for the ploy, because once something in his your hands, to a tout that means a commitment has been made.
My 29th birthday was spent visiting the ancient ruins of Polonnaruwa in Sri Lanka, and then doing a two hour safari nearby. The safari turned out to be a disappointment for the most part, with only a few birds spotted, though a highlight was a wild elephant crossing the road right in front of our vehicle. Sadly, further up the road another elephant had been shot by the army, something which our driver thought would be a highlight of the safari, but which Tanya in particular had no interest in witnessing.
I thought of home a number of times on May 18th, wondering what everyone was up to back in BC. My parents in Whistler, my three brothers each at their own homes, my co-workers in the biology lab, my friend Mike skimboarding, my friend Kalaya seeing the Da Vinci Code movie. But mostly, I thought of Corrina dancing at Beats Without Borders.
Health-wise, lady luck has been on our side. Besides a minor cold, the only other ailment to speak of for myself was a nasty heat rash, which showed itself not long after Tanya and I visited The Five Rathas. These were five giant stone carvings, all sculpted from the same rock. My heat rash became affectionately known as "the five rashes", though after the first day a more accurate term would be "the five hundred rashes". Fortunately, the only current blemishes on my skin are dark circles of purple, a sign of where leeches suctioned a bit of blood.
We had our first taste of the monsoon the other day, getting drenched in the darkness as we ran back to our hotel room. There will be a lot of rain in the days ahead, as I sit huddled in this internet cafe safe from the elements, so I'll save those stories for a future time.
Until then,
Lee
Entry #4 - "Wayanad Wanderings"
June 10, 2006, 7:35 pm
Sulthan Batheri, Kerala, India
Saying India is a land of contrasts is like saying night is different from day. The statement is obvious, but it's only in the details that the real meaning emerges. The women of India are all long-haired, elegant and somehow deeply mysterious. There is such beauty here. Yet the women walk down paths and streets littered with garbage, 
stepping over containers, wrappers and rotting food as though it were part of the landscape, their colourful, unblemished saris in stark opposition to the ubiquitous debris. While visiting a waterfall, we had to be persistent in convincing our guide we wanted to carry our garbage back with us, and not throw it in the bushes as he had planned.
Animals garner a good deal of respect, with cows, goats, chickens and--to a lesser extent--dogs and cats freely roaming the roads and back alleys. However, most are only tolerated to a degree, and should they become a nuisance, such as the unfortunate goat that wandered too close to a shop and got smacked soundly in the head by its owner, the locals won't hesitate to push, pull or whack. It's hard to witness what easily amounts to animal abuse, yet it is the way of life here, and I can perhaps take comfort in the fact the sacred cattle enjoy an existence infinitely more comfortable than the factory farms of North America.
If one first has to suffer before being rewarded, that may explain the wonderful Wayanad region we've been exploring this past week. It's the longest we've stayed in any one place, and with good reason. The hours leading up to our arrival, however, were far less than pleasant. The trek from the south consisted first of a four hour plus train ride, which went far smoother than our previous excursion via rail. Then from Calicut we had to take a bus, and managed to find the last available seat, making a makeshift chair out of our backpacks next to it so we both had somewhere to sit. The problem was we were sitting at the very back of the bus, further amplified by the driver's decision to steer like he was participating in the Indy 500. The violently bumpy ride, frequent brake-screeching halts, and turns that had everyone aboard clinging to any available hold gave me the feeling of being on a rollercoaster. I'm not averse to those rides per se, but a three-hour drive, one hairpin on the road after another, was too much for my stomach. Less than a third of the way through our journey, the noodles from lunch decided they were going to make an unexpected appearance, and not through the usual exit. Fortunately, Tanya handed me a bag in the nick of time, and I held onto the contents for the remainder of the trip, crammed on the bus like sardines and unable to dispose of it until we got off. Tanya kindly offered to switch seats so I had something more sturdy than our bags to sit on, and then gave me a gravol tablet. I somehow fell asleep, and Tanya noted later on that my lolling head reminded her of Stevie Wonder.
The place we are currently staying at is in Sulthan Batheri in Kerala, close to the border of two other states. We have explored Tamil Nadu to the largest extent, although have managed to cover a large section of Kerala, with a couple dips into Karnataka for half-day excursions. Batheri has no foreigners, which may explain some of its appeal, since without tourists there are no touts. The area is green, hilly and cleaner than any other place in India that we've visited. Our first real day here (on the evening we arrived I went straight to bed without a meal, leaving me short lunch and supper) we drove through Muthanga national park. Although we stayed on the main road, the attendant at the first entry point into the deeper wildlife areas telling us to come back at 3 pm, and next telling us the man in charge was having a nap, we still sighted many native animals. Spotted deer, sambar (their larger cousin), more than one species of monkey, wild dogs and several herds of larger elephants all made an appearance. Later that night, the sun down and the forest dark, our drive home through the same region took an exciting turn. Three elephants stood on the center of the road, one very young pachyderm with two very protective parents. Our driver threw the car into reverse when the elephant turned to face us, apparently ready to charge. We had to wait at a safe distance until a truck came from behind, the driver noting our predicament and madly waving his arm to indicate we should follow him. The elephants, not at a size disadvantage with our vehicle but intimated by the larger truck, stamped out of the way.
The weather has been frighteningly cooperative, always in our favour despite predictions otherwise. Today we went to Kuruva Island, a name only correct in the wet season for during the dry the water recedes, making land passage possible. Very remote and very natural, it has certainly been one of the many highlights of Wayanad. My favourite trek is most likely an unexpected rock climbing expedition that occurred after visiting the Ekanal Caves, which contained wall carvings and writings reportedly five thousand years old and holding the origin of all Indian languages (English too, if you were inclined to believe our guide). The trail kept going up above the caves, to a height of 5000 feet. It quickly became apparent why no other tourists were here, as the path was treacherous to say the least, and at several points one wrong step would send you careening over the steep edge and down to the boulders far below. Tanya, myself and our two hosts, Sanjay and Shaji, decided to go to the top of the rock, or as far as we could get. Sanjay stopped partway up, and Tanya did likewise a bit later, not as determined (or, perhaps more accurately, not as foolhardy) as Shaji and myself. The rockface was nearly sheer in a few places, with the sure-footed Shaji offering a helping hand, without which the summit would've remained out of my reach as well. When we scaled the last step, a spacious plateau greeted us. Shaji and I sat for a time and meditated there, a bonding experience I won't soon forget.
Funnily enough, later that evening I had my first serious bout of homesickness. We had experienced a hectic day, consisting of the caves, rock climb, horticultural center, museum, shopping for snacks and toiletries, visiting Shaji's house and family, seeing where he planned to build hilltop cottages for tourists, being shown the church under construction that he himself designed, getting a lesson in a type of modern 3-minute yoga, and finally an after hours tour of a tea factory, maybe it's no surprise I was feeling overwhelmed. Our hosts seemed determined for us to do the maximum in each given day, but that is an ideology I no longer follow. We got back to the house close to midnight, where supper awaited us, but I had to run and hide in the bedroom. I've been told there's no Indian word for "privacy", and constantly meeting strangers and being stared at by every single person as though you're an alien from another planet can be utterly draining. Thankfully the worst of my homesickness has past, though I'm more 
prudent now of my need for some quiet time each and every day.
Previously in Allepey Tanya and I went on a houseboat for two nights on the vast network of rivers and canals. Inspired, I started writing my novel while on the backwaters, and have now nearly finished the first two chapters. Details from my travels have crept into my writing on every level, and I find I never have enough time to put the flooding words onto the page. Just as now, there is much more to tell, but no more time to tell it.
From India with Love,
Lee
Entry #4b
June 12, 2006
Greetings,
We’ve managed to borrow a laptop for the day, and are taking full advantage.
Here are twenty four photos handpicked by Tanya and myself. [Note: to see all the photos from this trip, click here]
One of them reminded me of something I neglected to mention in my hastily written previous email. In regards to contrasts, we stumbled across one a few days ago after 
climbing the highest hill in the area. At the summit stood a tiny, one-room temple where a man was undergoing forty-four days of continuous meditation. He kindly invited us inside for coffee, and then did a prayer for Tanya and I, lighting a fire and smearing the ash like paint onto a central spot on our foreheads. During this reverential ceremony, his mobile rang with a loud, beeping melody that I’d certainly recognize in Canada. My hatred for cell phones notwithstanding, it just goes to show that even if you are meditating for a month and a half, as long as you have man’s new best friend you don’t have to be alone.
Hope you enjoy,
Lee
Continue to Entry #5
