A Folklore Museum and Lunch with an Old Friend
Breakfast at the Tea Bungalow
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| India |
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| Kerala |
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| Breakfast at the Tea Bungalow A good omelette is not hard to find in India, but the bread is too soft, too white and too sweet |
A Little Orientation
Kochi, (formerly, and often still) Cochin is a city in the state of Kerala on the west coast of southern India. It has a population of 680,000 and is the centre of a metropolitan district with 2.1 million inhabitants.
The city sprawls across a section of Kerala's fractured coastline which constructed itself from the silt brought by the many rivers flowing down from the Western Ghats. Behind the coast is a vast maze of waterways known as the Kerala Backwaters.
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| Kochi with places relevant to the post indicated in red |
Kochi consists of three main parts. The tourist districts of Mattancherry and Fort Kochi sit on a peninsula, while across the water is Ernakulam, the working city. Between them is Willingdon Island; 6km long and 2km wide, it was built in the 1930s by dumping the silt brought up by dredging the harbour.
Kerala Folklore Museum
Since our cooking exercise had been ‘preponed’ we had a blank day, but we had use of the car, so our plan was to visit the Folklore Museum, as recommended by friends Wilson and Norma, and afterwards we had a lunch engagement a little deeper into Ernakulam.
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| The streets of Kochi, well the one outside the Tea Bungalow. |
Sasi turned up on time, as we knew he would. The journey was less than 10km, but even well after peak time it would take a good half
hour.
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| The Kerala Folklore Musuem |
The museum building does not look special from the side. Although clearly older than the surrounding structures, it lacks the low
eves and slatted windows of traditional Kerala constructions. The front, though
is entirely different, but difficult to photograph, or even see in full. It was
made using parts from 25 traditional building, and showcases all three of
Kerala’s traditional architectural styles, Malabar, Cochin and Travancore. Construction
took 7½ years and involved 62 traditional carpenters, but I find the mixture of
styles confusing – not that my opinion is important.
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| The front of the Folklore Museum |
The museum was founded by Jacob V. Thaliath, who was joined by his son George when he left university 35 years ago. It was not the career George intended, but it has become his life’s work and he admits to being obsessed – but in a good way. He travels all over the sub-continent acquiring objects
and researching their origins and meaning.
Crossing the threshold, it is obvious the museum is the work of an enthusiast who wants to display every wonder he has found. The
objects are crammed together, sometimes on top of each other, but almost all are
labelled with place of origin, material and date.
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| Inside the Kerala Folklore Museum |
Anywhere else this portrayal of multi-armed Durga with her expressive face yet strangely dead eyes would have a spotlit plinth to herself, but here she jostles for room with depictions of the bull Nandi (the vehicle of Shiva), and ornamental elephants. Durga is an avatar of Parvati and her vehicle (every Hindu deity has a vehicle) is a lion or tiger or sometimes a magical blend of the two. Her name means ‘impassable, invincible and unassailable' and she is associated with protection, strength, motherhood, destruction, and wars. She also slays demons, so it is unwise to stand in her way.
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| Durga |
This Garuda is smaller, but no less flamboyant. An eagle/kite-like bird he is the vehicle of Vishnu. but is also a god and
protector in his own right. He can be represented in zoomorphic form, or, as
here, in anthropomorphic form. In his left hand – almost omitted from the
photograph (sorry) is the jar of Amrita, the Nectar of Immortality created at
the Churning
of the Ocean of Milk (the story has a post all of its own).
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| Garuda |
Shiva is often represented by his lingam, but here is a bronze muckhalingam, a penis with a face. I make no further comment. I doubt
it was made to fit into the early 20th century bronze prabhavalli, (translated
as ‘aureole’ which it is not, quite) but here artefacts go where they fit.
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| A lingam with a face, Kerala Folklore Museum |
A glass painting from Tanjore is an example of an unusual artform from southern Tamil Nadu.
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| Tanjore Glass Painting |
Kerala’s Christian heritage is also well represented. This Guardian Angel seems to have a slightly
Roman look. Tradition states that Christianity was brought here by the apostle St Thomas,
but Southern India had strong trading links with Rome, which is in the same general direction…
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| Guardian Angel |
…while this group of Christian figures hits a more general European note.
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| Christian figures |
We spent some time in the museum before inspecting the gift shop and the auditorium on the top floor. The museum is recommended in the Rough Guide
and is well worth a visit, though it is outside the usual tourist area.
The LuLu Mall
It was too early for lunch and Sasi wanted to show us the LuLu Mall, in a more affluent but untouristy part of Ernakulam, so we let him.
The entrance is on the ground floor of a multi-storey car park with a clearly marked ‘drop off’ lane as if they expect customers to
be brought by their drivers – as. indeed, we were. We waited for Sasi to rejoin us
before passing through security where I promised to put my camera away. They would
rather I did not take it in at all, but security guards are humble, underpaid,
servants, so when a wealthy(ish) European makes a promise, they do not to argue.
I felt obliged to keep my promise, so no photos inside.
Inside, we had coffee with Sasi, then he suggested a meeting time and left us to it.
The centrepiece on the ground floor is a LuLu Supermarket. We had come across these in affluent Oman, where every town has a large, cool,
very tidy, very clean LuLu. This was the first we had seen in India, but apart
from the stock reflecting local tastes, it was as large, cool, etc, etc as any in
Oman.
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| No photos here, but this is a Lulu supermarket in Salalah, Southern Oman |
Carrying our purchases we left the supermarket and toured every floor of the mall. Each shop was bright, and tidy, and selling varied, high quality
merchandise. I cannot imagine a cleaner, more affluent-looking mall exists
anywhere in the world. The only problem was the absent customers; few in Kochi can
afford to shop here and we had the place to ourselves.
LuLu, who own the whole mall, not just the supermarket, are Abu Dhabi based and have over 200 supermarkets mostly nestling in Asia’s wealthier corners, but the company is owned M A Yusuff Ali, a native of Nattika, just 75km up the coast from Kochi. They have five ‘hypermarkets' (three of them in Kerala) and several malls in India. The company sees great scope for growth here, but it seems slow getting off the mark.
The Mall was conveniently close to our lunch venue in Seaport Airport Road.
‘Are you having lunch with Thomas Matthew?’ Sasi asked as we arrived. I was a little surprised, but obviously Pioneer drivers talk
to each other. Then we saw Thomas walking towards the Restaurant
wearing a new blue shirt.
Thomas Matthew
This is our seventh Indian trip, the fourth to Kerala and the south. Six of those trips have been organised by Pioneer Travel of
Kochi, one of them via a London based travel agent, the others booked direct.
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| Lynne and Thomas buying coconuts to drink, near Hassan, Karnataka 2010 |
I negotiate an itinerary with Pioneer who then book it and provide us with a car and a driver. All five drivers employed or sub-contracted
by Pioneer have been excellent, but Thomas Matthew, who drove us on our second
trip in 2010 (pre-blog) stood out. His self-taught English was better than most
of the professional ‘English speaking’ guides; and not only could he speak, he
could listen. We have encountered guides all over the world who know their
stuff and can communicate well enough, but when asked a question, respond
with either a baffled expression or a confident answer to a different question.
Listening is the hardest linguistic skill, and Thomas can do it. He is well
informed about India and elsewhere, and his thoughtful, moderate opinions on a variety
of issues are worth listening to.
%20Going%20to%20see%20boatbuilding,%20Callicutt,%20Kerala%202010.JPG) |
| Visiting the shipbuilders, Calicut, Kerala |
We got on so well we started to think of him as a friend, not just a driver. We kept in touch after returning home and made sure
he was our driver on our next southern trip in 2016 (those posts start here).
When travelling we usually lunched together because Thomas can unfailingly pick
the right restaurant in an unknown town. Maybe it was against the rules, but
it was a win-win situation. Thomas got a free lunch, I paid far less for three
such lunches than for I would for two in a tourist trap, and we ate real local food,
not dumbed-down tourist fare.
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| Lunch with Thomas, near Udipi, Kerala 2010 |
We remained in touch, and we would have asked for Thomas this year, but he has left Pioneer and is now a self-employed tuk-tuk
driver. ‘It’s little money,’ he said, ‘but we get by.’
%20Near%20a%20waterfall.JPG) |
| Above Vazhachal Falls, Kerala, 2010 |
We ate biryanis and chatted for an hour. He seems content with his new situation, no longer being away from home for two weeks or longer. Thomas is a devout Christian and takes comfort
in his faith. I stupidly failed to take a photograph – but I have
previous, lunching with people we do not see often and failing to take
pictures is my unwanted superskill.
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| Lynne, Thomas and a pearl spot for lunch, near Kollam 2016 |
We went outside for final goodbyes, giving Thomas and Sasi a chance for a chat. ‘One of the best,’ said Sasi as we drove away. During
lunch Thomas had said ‘You’ll be fine with Sasi, he’s one of the best.’ And indeed,
he is and we were.
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| And just for balance, lunch with Sasi, Mysore 2024 |
Chez Thomas. 2016
In the 2016 post Kochi, a Second Visit, we had lunch in Ernakulam – another biryani - and then went
to the airport, but that is not quite what happened. Before going to the airport, we went home with Thomas who had earlier invited us to meet his
wife Mary and sons Daral and Dennies. This was strictly against company rules,
so he asked me not to mention it. Now he no longer works for Pioneer I have his
permission to tell the full story. This section will eventually migrate to the 2016 post.
Thomas lives in a village not far from Kochi Airport. It feels very rural, though Kerala is densely populated and towns and their
facilities are nearby. The surroundings are very green; the monsoon rains dump ample
water from May to October to keep Kerala verdant all year round. The average
daily high is around 30° throughout the year, the minimum 24° which would suit
me fine in the dry season but I would struggle with the humidity during the monsoon.
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| Village Street |
Thomas owns his own house and several family members live nearby. He had recently bought a shiny, new tuk-tuk to bring in some money in
the rainy season when there are no tourists.
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| Thomas on his doorstep (with his tuk-tuk to the right of the building) |
And here is the family. Thomas and Mary with Daral, then just started at university, and Dennies, two years younger, and just
finishing school. There is food on the table because, of course, guests must be
fed. Our thanks to Mary for an excellent chicken curry.
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| Mary and Thomas with Daral and Dennies behind |
And here we are with the family. Both boys have since finished university, Daral works in Kochi and Dennies is busy seeking the right opportunity.
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| Everybody |
It is a rare privilege for travellers to be invited into people’s homes. Our thanks to Thomas and Mary for their hospitality, and to the lads for putting up with the sudden arrival of two elderly
foreigners.
‘Wine Shop’
Returning to 2024… Sasi drove us back, pausing en route at a so-called ‘wine shop’ (they sell little or no wine). Back in 2016 Kerala was
flirting with a form of rolling prohibition, now thankfully abandoned. Drinks
licences remain difficult to come by, but there is a network of proper liquor shops
with government fixed prices. For our nightcaps we acquired a bottle of Chennai
distilled ‘Old Monk’ rum and a Bangalore Whisky that owes little more to
Scotland than its wonderfully bizarre name: MaQintosh.
Pakoras
After a good lunch we only wanted a snack in the evening. Our hotel had a restaurant with a full menu, though no other diners,
but we thought it would be alright for a snack. We perused the menu and ordered
something from the youth who seemed to be in charge. He disappeared into the
kitchen and after a few minutes returned to say our choice was unavailable but
would we like a plate of pakoras? ‘That would be fine,’ we said, and it was –
when it arrived, 40 minutes later.
Two other diners who came in after us were less fortunate. They wanted a full meal and were brought menus. After due consideration
they placed an order. The lad disappeared to the kitchen and after a while came
back with the message that their choices were unavailable. They had a rethink
and made another order, again the lad went off and again returned with the same
message. It was perfectly obvious that there was no chef, just a pakora fryer,
because his next words were ‘would you like a dish of pakoras? Why the
elaborate charade? Why was there no chef? I was glad we were leaving in the
morning.
Part 1: Cooking the Kerala Way
Part 2: Kochi: Not Really a Free Day
and much more to come
