Trivandum Trip and Other Exploits...

Trivandrum Trip:

Trivandrum (increasingly known by its tongue-twisting un-Anglicized name, Thiruvanantapuram—say that five times fast), as the capital of the state of Kerala, is quite the metropolitan city. All things relative, that is. I saw only a few cows roaming the chaotic roads. The ratio of dhoti-clad to trouser-clad men was nearing 1:1 (in Aranmula, its relatively rare to see a guy wearing pants). I actually spotted one stoplight. And our troupe of foreign travelers attracted far fewer stares than we’ve become accustomed to.

For the first full weekend of December, I traveled to Trivandrum with a group of 3 other VKV students: the Spanish painter Miren, Manuel also from Spain, and Rosella from Rome. Before the 4 of us converged in Kerala, none of us had met. But despite hailing from all across the Western world, it felt almost like traveling with family. And apparently it appeared that way, also, as a few Trivandrum inhabitants we encountered asked how we were related. My 3 companions were traveling to Trivandrum on a mission: Miren to catch her flight to Sri Lanka, Manuel and Rosella to hit the bookstores (Trivandrum is supposedly the best place in Kerala to buy books). I went along to explore the city, see some sights, and check out the bookstores while I was at it.
Initially I thought I’d attempt to nap during 2-and-a-half-hour train ride (keep in mind this was the week of the karnatic music temple concert that lasted until 1 AM, while the previous night I had been watching Kathakali until midnight), but the captivating sights on the train and out the window prevented any sleep for me. The train pulled into the Trivandrum station, we found a hotel nearby, and afterwards headed directly to the bookshops. It was well past lunchtime when we emerged from the last bookstore on the list (all 3 we went inside were considerably cramped, piled to the ceiling with books supposedly organized into some system indecipherable to us) bearing plastic bags laden with our new treasures.

After a bit of lunch (masala dosas—crepe-like pancakes with potato-tomato curry filling—one of my many favorite foods in Keralan cuisine), our next stop was a government run warehouse selling Indian crafts. I made no purchases there—the government-set prices were a little high even by Western standards—but it was fun to look. Dinner that evening was a feast of fish (we like to get our weekend protein fix) and rice. Afterwards a stop for chai at the India Coffee House, a bizarre circular building with tables set into an ascending spiral staircase.

We awoke to rain the following morning, but headed out early (Miren was on her way to Sri Lanka at that point) for a visit to the famous Vishnu temple of Trivandrum. Non-Hindus are not allowed inside (as inclusive as Hinduism is regarding the acceptance of holy figures from other religions as gods and goddesses in the Hindu pantheon, the religion is, from what I’ve seen, quite exclusive and almost inaccessible to non-Hindus) but just to see the ornately carved towering spires of stone from the outside was impressive. The Trivandrum Park, which contains a lovely garden with several museums and a zoo interspersed among the stretches of greenery, was our next destination. We arrived at the park shortly after 8 AM only to find that, contrary to the information in the Lonely Planet (seen by many of my fellow students as the traveler’s bible), everything was closed until 10:00. So we wandered the gardens during alternating drizzle and downpour until the museum and art gallery opened. Both had impressive—albeit poorly preserved, organized and lit—collections of Indian art and artifacts. I was excited to discover in the gallery a room filled with traditional Keralan-style temple mural paintings. I had to squint through the darkness to see them, but I was thrilled to get a chance to see such an extensive collection of the art I’m studying nonetheless. After a leisurely lunch of fish curry and some more exploring the sites of the city (including the capitol building which is built in a stark and unmistakably Communist kind of style--since the creation of the state of Kerala in 1956, Communists have occupied high places in the Keralan state government...), we caught an afternoon train from Trivandrum to Chengannur.


Kathakali makeup session:

Between 2 morning tabla lessons, I returned home to practice and found at the bottom of the stairs leading to my room a Kathakali makeup session was under way. The center’s 2 Kathakali teachers sat there, chewing paan (something of an Indian version of tobacco) and spitting sporadically out the window while one was painting the other’s face. Similar to the typical Kathakali hero look, green was the base color and other details were added on top. I was invited to watch and asked if I could help them by taking some photos when they finished. I was honored. I sat with them at the foot of the stairs and watched the whole process of makeup and costuming. As part of a typical Kathakali ensemble’s finishing touches, the actor added a certain type of seed under his lower eyelid: this, within minutes, turns the eyes red, which supposedly enhances the appearance of the actor. When they were done and the actor was completely transformed into one of Shiva’s sons, I led them outside for the photo shoot.