Kochi is a vibrant cultural melange situated on the south-west coast of India in the state of Kerala, hailed as 'God's Own Country' (there are signs saying as much on every street corner).
The cosmopolitan mainland is complemented by the historical towns of Fort Cochin, Mattancherry (on the same island off the mainland) and a few nearby villages - all linked by bridges and boats .
As I walked through the mainland on my first day, I was serenaded by the honks and screeches of endless traffic. After feeling slightly dazed and confused by the endless cloth shops and street stalls, I escaped to a nearby park on the waterfront, which I appeared to break into with the help of two Indian men who had just done the same. Naturally, I was the only white person in the park and this attracted me a lot of attention, especially from the children enjoying the playground. The breeze from the water was very welcome and as I walked along the front, I smiled and waved to the children, who all giggled at me and waved back. Heaps of Indian families lounged in the snippets of shade and some of the more confident children flounced right up to me and said "hi!" and then "bye!" at the tops of their voices. One girl, who couldn't be more than 7 years old, even mimicked my body language to the enjoyment of her group of friends!
I perched on the wall overlooking the water and was careful to sit far enough back so there was no chance of falling in. I wondered for a moment what the water in the infamous Ganges river might be like, if this was how dirty it was here.
That evening, with a very basic map in hand, I made my way to the Kathakali Dance Theatre. This particular performance of Kerala's Kathakali Dance has been put on by the same family for more than 100 years. I picked my way across the broken pavements and, after asking about 53 different people for help, I eventually found the small theatre - which was strangely locked .
After knocking sheepishly on the rusting gate for a minute or two, eventually someone came out to let me in. I was ushered in to an entirely empty 'theatre', except for a man sat serenely cross-legged on the small stage at the front. The man was applying bright and bizarre make-up and the narrator sat next me and talked me through the religious and somewhat philosophical performance I then witnessed. The man in make-up and an elaborate costume, was thought to embody God after his transformation and acted and danced a Hindu story to percussion - it was mesmerising. Just as impressive was the narrator's knowledge of all religions and his ability to tell such a story at the age of 81. He told me he had been with the theatre for 40 years and it gave him a great sense of spiritual well-being, and they still carried on even if no one was there to watch. Now, that's dedication!
The cosmopolitan mainland is complemented by the historical towns of Fort Cochin, Mattancherry (on the same island off the mainland) and a few nearby villages - all linked by bridges and boats .
As I walked through the mainland on my first day, I was serenaded by the honks and screeches of endless traffic. After feeling slightly dazed and confused by the endless cloth shops and street stalls, I escaped to a nearby park on the waterfront, which I appeared to break into with the help of two Indian men who had just done the same. Naturally, I was the only white person in the park and this attracted me a lot of attention, especially from the children enjoying the playground. The breeze from the water was very welcome and as I walked along the front, I smiled and waved to the children, who all giggled at me and waved back. Heaps of Indian families lounged in the snippets of shade and some of the more confident children flounced right up to me and said "hi!" and then "bye!" at the tops of their voices. One girl, who couldn't be more than 7 years old, even mimicked my body language to the enjoyment of her group of friends!
I perched on the wall overlooking the water and was careful to sit far enough back so there was no chance of falling in. I wondered for a moment what the water in the infamous Ganges river might be like, if this was how dirty it was here.
That evening, with a very basic map in hand, I made my way to the Kathakali Dance Theatre. This particular performance of Kerala's Kathakali Dance has been put on by the same family for more than 100 years. I picked my way across the broken pavements and, after asking about 53 different people for help, I eventually found the small theatre - which was strangely locked .
After knocking sheepishly on the rusting gate for a minute or two, eventually someone came out to let me in. I was ushered in to an entirely empty 'theatre', except for a man sat serenely cross-legged on the small stage at the front. The man was applying bright and bizarre make-up and the narrator sat next me and talked me through the religious and somewhat philosophical performance I then witnessed. The man in make-up and an elaborate costume, was thought to embody God after his transformation and acted and danced a Hindu story to percussion - it was mesmerising. Just as impressive was the narrator's knowledge of all religions and his ability to tell such a story at the age of 81. He told me he had been with the theatre for 40 years and it gave him a great sense of spiritual well-being, and they still carried on even if no one was there to watch. Now, that's dedication!
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