A visit to Dhobi Khana, constructed in 1976, shows us how laundry is done. Its origins go back to 1720 when families gathered here to wash the Dutch army’s uniforms. In open-sided concrete sheds are tubs for handwashing clothes and linen.
On a bench an old man glides an archaic iron over tableware. His chest is bare; peach-coloured fabric wraps the lower half of his body. Outside on the grass washing is strung on twisted ropes propped up with timber poles. Even the poorer people outsource this job to the dhobi wallahs.
Laundry by hand
Ironing in a shed
Strung washing
That evening we see a Kathakali, a major form of classical Indian dance. One of the dancers lies on the stage while his face is painted a startling green. He later appears in skirt and pantaloons, wearing an elaborate jewel-encrusted headdress. To the beat of drums and a tinkling triangle he dances with a sword.
Another character displays a series of facial expressions. Elaborately made up and in costume, his eyes roll and move diagonally while his pink lips distort. Hand gestures add to the emotions he shows. I find the show strange and intriguing.
Make-up at the theatre; made from a rice paste and vegetable colours. Seven basic makeup types are used in Kathakali, namely Pachcha (green), Pazhuppu (ripe), Kathi, Kari, Thaadi, Minukku and Teppu (red).
Pachcha (green) with lips painted brilliant coral red portrays noble characters and sages such as Krishna, Vishnu, Rama, Yudhishthira, Arjuna, Nala and philosopher-kings. Kathakali is one of the eight classical dances of India. The term Kathakali is derived from katha (Malayalam, from Sanskrit) which means "story or a conversation, or a traditional tale", and kaḷi (Malayalam) which means "performance" or "play". The dance symbolises the eternal fight between good and evil.
This is Minukka, the feminine character - Yellow is the code for monks, mendicants, and women. Minukka (radiant, shining) with a warm yellow, orange or saffron typifies noble, virtuous feminine characters such as Sita, Panchali and Mohini. Men who act the roles of women also add a false top knot to their left and decorate it in a style common to the region. The makeup follows an accepted code, that helps the audience easily identify the archetypal characters such as gods, goddesses, demons, demonesses, saints, animals and characters of a story.
We drive to Vembanad Lake to board a large open boat. As we sit on cotton-covered plastic chairs, a local man poles us over tranquil water to a fish farm. Using a net, one of the guides catches a monstrous crab and holds it for us to observe.
Timber boats are being crafted under tarpaulins. We are shown the many uses for coconuts including husking them on spikes, gathering the fibre and spinning it into rope. A smiling machete-wielding man hands us an opened coconut with a straw for a drink. Other craftsmen show us basket weaving and pottery making. As the wheel spins his hands shape the shiny clay. This area is obviously for tourists. I wonder how many of these skills relate to modern Indian life.
Our boat to the fish farm
A crab on display
Husking coconuts
Working clay
Back in our coach, it takes an hour and a half over slow, busy roads to reach Kumarakom Lake Resort. I’ve seen filth in drains, tarpaulins over roofs and masses of motorbikes precariously loaded with people or goods. Necessity obviates safety rules in this country. Every now and then there is a holy cow to dodge as well. At one place I notice orchids strapped to trees, displaying their blooms. A thing of beauty amidst the chaos!
My room is charming. On the bed fuchsia petals and leaves form a delightful decoration. Panels of Indian paintings add to the ambience. Then I notice the balcony doors lead to a lagoon swim-out. To refresh myself after the flight I don a costume and step onto turquoise mosaic tiles. Surrounded by lush tropical vegetation, I swim in the cooling water.
The resort is an oasis of calm. Lawns stretch to the water’s edge amidst masses of palms above terracotta roofs of buildings. Many of us congregate in a large swimming pool, chatting after a cooling swim.
Early next morning in the pavilion nearby I attend a yoga session. Apart from the teacher, only one younger man is there. The mat is hard on tiles as I attempt the practices. Overlooking the lake shrouded in mist, serenity envelops me.
A luncheon cruise on the most extraordinary boats is our next adventure. Our boat is around thirty metres long with a carved timber prow. We sit in comfy chairs on a shaded foredeck. The rest of the boat is covered in thatch with arches leading to rooms for overnight stays and a kitchen. We motor out among clumps of water hyacinth and pass other boats. Ten rivers flow into this vast waterway. I see fields being drained of water for the planting of brown rice. A glass of rosé, salads, fish in sauce and other delicacies are brought to us. Light breezes make for a lovely afternoon on the water.
Orchids adorn trees
My splendid room
My swim-out
A lake boat