Kumarakom continued

Jan 8th
Wife was recovered today but we took things easy to enjoy the facilities here together. And up early enough to photograph the sunrise from our room across the lagoon.

In the late afternoon, we ventured outside on the hotel bikes - this was okay while we were on the by-roads but when we reached a busier road, with buses, taxis, cars, transporting children home from school, which we turned off at the first opportunity. The sight of an (adult) woman on a bicycle seemed unusual to the locals, although I have seen women riding motor-scooters.

In the evening we enjoyed Indian musicians and classical dancers while sitting on the amphitheatre outside the restaurant after dinner. Two girl dancers with a singer, flautist and drummer for some traditional dances, followed by music, with a second type of drummer (instrument looked like a large spherical jar) replacing the singer. (See file later on family site). It was all very lively and more accessible to my ears than my previous, limited hearing of Indian music. This was southern (Karnatic?) tradition, I believe there is a distinct northern tradition (according to the young man serving us whisky and mocktails in the bar).

Liz writes
The Raddison hotel is like another world, a compound quite cut off from the rest of India. We borrowed a couple of bikes so husband and I went out for a cycle ride, to see what it was like outside. Inside was quiet, with perhaps few guests strolling round, but more often you saw security guards, especially near the lake where the houseboat arrived. And there were gardeners there in the day time, with little green hats like sunshades on their heads while they worked in the sun. The bathroom in our cottage had a bath and two showers, one in an outdoor courtyard and even if the electricity went off there was a generator so that the hotel still carried on with light, sound, or whatever electrical use was required. One night there was a presentation of European classical music (saxophone and cello?) followed by India classical dance, then by Indian classical music, but for a few moments when the electricity cut, before the generator came in, the sound did not echo round the amphitheatre (yes, there's a small amphitheatre in there too!)

As you can imagine, outside the compound, there was no evidence of electricity, running water, plumbed sewage and I realised that women riding bicycles was a rare sight too. One girl of around 15 on her way home from school hid her eyes in shock when she saw me riding along.

This was the best hotel that we stayed in whilst in India, not just because of the amenities, but also because the staff were so helpful especially when I was ill and dehydrated, well trained, not just courteous but friendly as if they were really interested in you. In the evening we mentioned to the barman that we'd been for a ride, and he enquired if I had gone too, side saddle behind my husband. He gasped in surprise when I explained that no, I had ridden a bike too, and said that in India, the girls were homely, so wouldn't ride bikes. This was the barman who created a mocktail for me and asked us to name it - we chose Maiden's Blush because of its pink colours - apple, mango, pomegranate and something else. And then the same barman went on to discuss music with us trying to find what CD to put on would best please us, and in the end, serenading us himself with classical guitar music.

The Navjote

It's around 10.30 pm, and we've just got back from the Navjote - around 400 people at the Zorastian Hall.

We went in time for the ceremony, though we must have been the first non-Parsees to arrive. If you aren't a Parsi, then you can't go into the temple, but after the ceremony, they come out and the new Navjote (nav means new) repeats the prayers as the priest says them.

He arrived in a procession with his very proud parents and grandparents, garlanded in flowers, newly bathed as the ceremony requires, wrapped in red to be dressed in new garments.

We watched as the priest ran the thread round his waist several times. In future he will have to do this every time he washes. I thought the thread was of 27 threads, but Mr Gai tells me that it is 72 and the number represents 72 scriptures.

We had a lot of photo taking, and video taking, then a meal - a Parsi fish dish for the non-vegetarians.

Then there was music, with Khaizad's uncle Vispee on the drums and his cousin, Harmony singing. Watch out for the recordings I made - I'll put them on our home site. People started to dance, Khaizad with exhuberance and so I tried to photo him, but found myself on the patio dancing too. Next I looked up to find husband, not only dancing, but dancing with a red shawl wrapped round his head like a turban. Everyone was high with happiness, enthusiam and gaiety. Toddlers, teenagers, parents and grandparents danced.

Finally, the music ended, and people drifted off. Khaized put us in a rickshaw to make our own way back to the hotel.

Promenade concert & cat

We went out to a prom concert last night. If you saw it on BBC 4 you'll know how smashing it was. The theme was French with music from the ilks of Rameau, but the difference was that there were dancers too, dancing to this 18th century French music, which must have been written to dance to. Initially these were classical ballet dancers, but even so, they danced to the audience, making us laugh, not being serious. However, the energy came from the Soweto dancers, who drummed and danced and played the violin too. With steps like the Russian one where you put your hands on the floor and spin round your legs so you have to jump over your own legs, and leaps high into the air, with the occasional squawk the audience was enraptured. The enthusiasm and energy grew throughout the second half of the performance, with the Monteverdi choir encouraging by doing Mexican waves. It was a most memorable concert for a wedding anniversary.

And when we got home, we found one of our children had left a bowl of cat food out, so we were asking ourselves which of them didn't know that the cat had gone, lost, dead. But it turned out that youngest had seen the cat. He isn't dead, but thin and slow but back again.