12 March 2012
The smell was noticeable even before I stepped off the ship. It wafted into my room and the first thing I said to Laney was "yeah, we're definitely in India". We had to go through face-to-face immigration. They looked at me, then my passport, then scrutinized. Once they were sure I was who I say I am, the customes agents used all their muscle and jammed the stamp into the blue, gooey ink. They eyeballed the exact location and stamped my passport. I was officially in India. Me, Laney, Jessica, and Kelsey went to the 5th deck, armed with what we thought was socially and culturally sensitive clothing. The carpet was lined with cardboard and plastic. A sign that India is going to be dirty; the ship is prepared. We stepped off, climbed down the stairs, and were greeted by women and men dressed in traditional clothing. The women placed something on the middle of my forehead (no idea what it was, maybe some kind of spice), and the men performed for us. They stood and danced, moving their heads in the Indian way, while we watched in astonishment. Once we stepped out of the gates, the many rickshaw drivers attempting to take us to the 'tourist locations' attacked us. This was really just a ploy to take us to their relative's store, in exchange for them receiving free petrol and a percentage of what the tourists spend. We ran past the crowd to the tourist center. He told us to go to Fort Cochin, which was just a short, cheap ferry ride across the river.
The ferry was only 2 rupees, which is equivalent to about 4 cents. We were hassled on the way to the ferry: the men telling us it was no longer running, it wasn't going to take us to the shopping, or it was too expensive. There was a point where a young man started to come up to me and I had to use my "football skills" to get past him. He thought it was very funny and continued to follow me, not leaving me alone until Laney stepped in between us and blocked him from me. The ferry contained a variety of people. There were men with bikes, on their way to work or home. There was a large group of young women that were on their way to nursing school. They were very friendly towards all of us. We made it across the river in less than 10 minutes, said goodbye to our new friends, and leaped off the ferry. We thought once we got past the large amount of scooter parking, which rivals UF's sorority row, we would be able to walk with ease to a marketplace. There was no sidewalk at all. We tried weaving through cars but had no idea of what direction to go in. We decided to give in to one of the many tuc-tucs following us. He told us that he would bring us to a marketplace. In the back of my mind I remembered what they had told us during pre-port about shopping, but I ignored it.
He took us to a store that sold women's saris and other traditional clothing. They pulled about 30 different pieces of what looked like cloth off the shelves. Once I picked one I liked, a team of 3 women started dressing me. They each had their own idea of the best design for me, so it took twice as long as it should have. They put a drawstring skirt on me and then knotted the end of the sari. The knot was tucked into the right, front side of the skirt. Then they brought the rest of the fabric around the front of my body to the back, leaving some excess material in the front. They draped the excess material over my left shoulder. Now came the pleating. They pleated the material that was over my shoulder, as well as the excess they left I the front of my body. They pleated and pinned, arguing with each other throughout the whole process. I was fascinated by this interaction, but very worried about getting pricked with one of the pins. I admired my new Indian garb, paid for it, then climbed back into the waiting tuc-tuc.
He then took us to another shop that he made commission from, a government agency shop. The goods were over-priced, but we were able to bargain with them. I bought a circular box with coasters insides and two strings of precious stones. One was ruby and the other was sapphire. I couldn't decide which one I wanted. Typical. After spending way too much in that store (they tried to get my to buy silk rugs too), we went to a restaurant called Seaguls. It was another tourist location. I could tell by the overwhelming amount of SAS students enjoying lunch and the beautiful view of the polluted water. We each tried something on the menu that sounded weird as well as a dish that sounded familiar. I had cheese cherry pineapple and prawn coconut fry with a Kingfisher beer. After toasting to our meal and adventures in India with Pepto Bismal instead of alcohol, we started our meal. All of the food was very good. The cheese cherry pineapple was a plate with weird looking cherries and pineapples with cheese sandwiches; the pineapple acting as the bread. It was delicious and something I am going to try to create as a snack at home. We tried going to more markets after lunch, but the drivers kept taking us to more 'government agencies' so we asked him to take us back to the ship. After the security officer took pictures of me wearing my new sari on her camera phone, I boarded the MV Explorer.
I showered, changed, and went back out into India. The port was very different at night. We walked to the tourist center with hopes that they would tell us where to go for dinner, but it was closed. We then walked to a hotel that was actually a 5-star resort. The scenery was beautiful and they had drinks, so we decided we would indulge for a little and watch the cultural performance, then go to Fort Cochin for dinner. The drinks were good, but the cultural performance was sub-par. The man that was performing for us did not blink while he danced to what sounded like traditional Indian music. We left the hotel and took a tuc-tuc to the same restaurant I went to for lunch. Again there were large quantities of SASers and we ordered way too much food. The food was good and had a lot of flavor and spices. I ate a lot of it, hoping I wasn't going to have to pay for it too much later. I definitely paid for it. That whole night I could barely sleep because of the spicy, gaseous food. Delhi belly was here.
No comments:
Post a Comment