Rice barges on Lake Vembanad
I’m sitting on a converted rice barge under its intricately patterned thatched roof. It’s a visual and textural feast. But so is everything else around me. I’m excited by the notion that all I have to do for the next several hours is sit take it all in.
I love this gentle rhythm, quietly gliding over the water and I’m grateful for the change of pace from the chaotic and bustling mainland. I take to it quickly and watch with a pang of envy as the locals quietly, almost meditatively go about their business.
It’s so peaceful and so quiet. The water is smooth and dark and it’s vast. Made up of approximately nine hundred kilometers of interconnected waterways, which are fed by more than forty rivers. This watery labyrinth of rivers and estuaries, canals and lakes has sustained locals for centuries. It’s also attracted foreign traders and has been functioning as a major passage for the transportation of spices, seafood and other produce.
Water hyacinths on the backwaters
This area is shared by local fishing families and farmers and increasingly, it’s enjoyed by Indian and foreign tourists alike.
This intricate body of water on the coast of the Arabian Sea is straddled by this rich and fertile land dotted with cashew trees, rice paddies and bougainvillea – but locally it’s known as the land of the coconut.
One of the first things I notice is that these waters thankfully attracts traffic of a different kind - a quieter type. The converted rice barges or kettuvalam cruise at a pace that blends elegantly with the flow of the water and the peaceful scenery.
The local fishermen, who make up a significant portion of the water traffic silently paddle their dugout canoes or vallams, or they propel themselves forward using punting poles collecting large local prawns or catching the much-prized local fish, the Pearl Spot or Karimeen.
Local Fisherman paddling his canoe
This unhurried pace on the backwaters is a stark reminder of how rarely we slow down and notice what’s around us. The banks of the waterway grab my attention next; thick groupings of coconut trees and colourful houses ranging from hot pink to pastel hues punctuate the shoreline. While further along women are dressed in shades of apple green, orange and watermelon as they do their washing and nearby, a man sits quietly fishing.
Quietly sitting and fishing
The colour and beauty injected into this landscape seems effortless and totally uncontrived. It’s in the dense vegetation, the flowering hibiscus, and the bougainvillea and in the bright green patches of water hyacinth. It’s also in the abundant birdlife, the architecture and in the water itself; the silvery greys and blues and glassy reflections all add to the allure. It’s a sensory and a sensual experience. And knowing there are turtles and otters just below draws me in even further.
Local ladies in their colourful dresses
I discover that the vibrancy of the backwaters also translates into its delicious cross-cultural cuisine. In the south the meals are lighter, more delicate. Coconut in all its forms features heavily. The flesh is freshly grated and added to dishes for texture and flavour and the milk is used in curries. And being such an important spice growing area, cardamom and cinnamon, ginger and cloves feature heavily.
Deliciously fragrant Cardamom pods
Kerala is also home to the scrumptious and rather moorish uzhunnu vada, a fried savoury breakfast doughnut flavoured with onions, ginger, chillies and curry leaves. Another breakfast highlight is the elegant lacey dosa typically made from fermented rice flour and often filled with a spicy potato mixture – a truly satisfying dish.
I savour the earthy flavours of the local cuisine, I notice my vivid surroundings and I’m acutely aware of the serenity. This is a place where sensory stimulation collides perfectly with a gentler rhythm and inspires slowing down and simply noticing.
