India is far away now. There’s snow out my new guesthouse window. on the ground, on the trees, in the air. How can that be? I breathe deep, close my eyes, imagine, feel down that I am looking out into the rubber tree grove. Doesn’t work. I grab the banana chips I brought home, and make some Kerala tea. That helps. Sensory overload is key, and while the chips and tea are not exactly overload, it helps the imagination.
I spent my last evening in Trivandrum a week ago with Reghu (Mitraniketan Director) and Sabith (his young aspiring teacher/administrator assistant), walking in the hot night air, feeling the city energy, smelling the smells. Smells often originate from wood smoke, which there is a lot of, even in the city - sometimes carrying the smells of tantalizing food cooking, or, alternatively, garbage, or burning plastic, or incense-like aromas, or manure. Usually some hard to decipher mix of those. We dined one last time before having tea at Reghu’s house, and then he dropped me at the airport around midnight to begin my 2+ days of travel (remember one has to go back and repeat 10.5 hours in the course of that journey).
But let me stay with Kerala food, as a parting tribute. Most all meals are cooked, with the exception of the occasional sliced cucumber/onion/tomato salad (which is a bit risky for us water-contamination sensitive westerners – but we’re really hungry for that raw salad !). Rice is basic. Often with 3 meals a day. And sauces, with varying degrees of color, spice, and texture.
The other basic is flat breads. The wheat one that tears into soft flaky pieces, is porotta. Or there is chappathi (basic flat wheat). Or Naan. Or the crispy, delicious-probably-not-very–good-for-you fried one is poppadum. Kind of like having fries with your meal. Then at breakfast, we sometimes had “iddly,” a steamed rice or wheat cake.
But let's start with more basics. Keralans eat with their fingers, as my friend, the Varkala beach tailor and his wife below are doing below (he made me a pair of cotton pants that saved me from overheating the whole time - men just don't wear shorts). You use the rice to sop up the sauces and liquids. One yoga student here talked about how the fingers have a sensitivity that prepares the mouth and stomach for what they are about to receive. Body awareness. How far we are from this in our western life. (more on this subject below). Us Westerners tended to stick to utensils - I developed this combined method, more like when you're eating fried chicken or lobster at home.
So the way to serve this mix of runny gloppy food - if not like our friend above, or on a regular flat plate - is done with little bowls or, if in a school, with trays for the sauces. Or in a festive traditional way, on a palm leaf:
Here is a picture of the best meal I had the whole trip – on the backwater tour boat. Both tasty, and artfully presented. To die for banana concoction that I can’t even describe! (that yellow one in the middle):
At Mitraniketan, our breakfast, based in rice, porotta, or iddly, was some kind of vegetable-in-sauce – like chick peas, tomatoes, green beans, etc. And eggs – usually hard-boiled, sometimes a simple omelet. And bread, baked on the premises in that German bakery. Butter and some regional fruit jam. Our group looked forward to the heartier wheat bread when that was available. The too sweet white bread is marketed to European-oriented tourist resorts down on the coast, so it flowed too often for our tastes. Oh, and of course, the cute little baby-sized bananas.
Lunch and supper – also served with rice – include more vegetables-in-sauce. Green beans, potatoes, tapioca (or alternatively called casaba - a potato-like veggie that is replacing rice-cultivation, because it is less labor-intensive). Dahl, of course (lentils in a yellow/green sauce). A favorite of mine was “Toran,” a mix of root vegies (beet, carrot, cabbage) with coconut, cumin, garlic, chili powder, oil, and salt). Some deep-fried veggies (cauliflower). Dahl of course (lentils). Meats tended to be fried chicken or fish. But we saw omelets at supper too.
Finally, sweets. There is this absolutely delicious pudding/oat-based gruel with cinnamon, nutmeg, and cardamom (and sugar). Also had some fabulous bananas fried in a flour/rice flour, turmeric mixture. Here's some basic fruit, and sweets:
And tea. Keralans are not big coffee drinkers, so the occasional coffees I had were more “instant” variety – quite a step back for coffee addicted westerners. I never did succeed in getting to Lonely Planet’s highly recommended Indian Coffee House, a worker-owned eatery that has reputably high quality coffee. It was actually nice to be away from coffee. But I DID miss chocolate, which there is also a scary lack of! It’s hidden in these lame wafers or cookies. When our Danish volunteer friend broke his wrist and was in the hospital, it fell to me to shop for coffee and chocolate to take to him! It wasn’t easy.
To be a bit personal, the body really gets along well with this food. (think good clean elimination). Also, if you’re into this earthy subject, think body odor. This is a really handy feature to us travelers – out in the world as we are with limited wardrobe – since it gives an extra day or more with the same shirt! On the other hand, rides on buses and trains are ripe with the stereotypical human odery sea.
So, I’m trying to be conscious of my eating patterns back here at home. Trouble is, I have to cook again! Definitely eating more rice (and less pasta). Veggies all good. But it’s unlikely I’ll be getting to seriously into the time-consuming sauce and bread-making skills that are pretty essential. Got my couple of packages of masala/curry ready to go though for the first guests.
Good bye Kerala. You treated me well, kept me firmly connected to earth, and the body will remember down deep. You especially allowed me to rest deeply, which I was years overdue for. I jumped into a Shalom retreat upon return, and received many comments about how settled, and peaceful I looked (and younger!). And I felt it. Amidst the hub-bub of being in a group, I was being “flowed” down in a deep under, sightless, Kerala river. The perfect preparation for the journey ahead, as life opens its next chapter. On we go.
