I'll be honest, I found this trip as a suggestion on my GetYourGuide recommendations in Kochi, and I was only attracted by the number of activities planned within 6 hours, but it turned out way more immersive and memorable than I ever hoped—and here's the evidence.
We boarded a bus in Fort Kochi and headed towards a small village as a group of 12 people. We had two drivers manning the boat, and although it's a river, we had barely any resistance, so all the information from our guide was loud and clear.
We were being introduced to new beneficial fruits and trees left and right, which is why the next part came as a total surprise (wild mango turned out to be toxic and used for suicide purpose!)
So we clearly had a lot of learning left to do. It still surprises me how we all live on the same Earth but are filled with different realities. For example, the existence of this pool of backwater and those tufts of grass makes no sense to someone unaware of Kerala's unique lagoons. The very fact that makes this calm and serene waterway an actual ecosystem of water hyacinths, lilies, storks, kingfishers, and multiple schools of fish that are omnipresent but cheekily evade my camera lens.
On this boat ride, we are sheltered by a cabin top, so the noon sunlight is bright without touching our skin, and if you've been in a place like Kerala, you can forgo the sun cream for a while. Many of our group participants were active photographers, so I could hear the occasional swarm of clicking and sighs of triumph on capturing a bird in frame, and truth be told, there is no dearth of novelty around us. We see fishermen readying their fishnets and boats, hoards of plants sliding by the boat, and even the words in Malayalam being uttered by our drivers added to the rhythm of us swaying forward. And then, a new construction underway for the next best guest house for future tourists—as a curious traveler, there is so much to see and love about life in Kerala.
On the way, we spotted multiple islands with one or two houses that run their own fishing business, and this expands to all kinds of marine life, including mussels. And just like a cattle herder who is surrounded by cattle, any fisherman we saw was also in proximity to a crow. Every time we sensed movement in the bushes or in the water, all of our eyes darted, seeking the source, and sometimes we caught a glimpse of a bird in prey or just a coconut that launched its weight into the water below. We also got quite close to a couple of fish farms, and honestly, my city nose was protesting the au natural odour of this micro business—I have yet to develop my senses.
At times, I found myself staring at the scenes in front of me because the vividness of every green bush or the community-driven fisheries are a world apart from the capitalist worldview I usually dwell in. The only grounding factor being the ducks I saw in a river here reminded me of the ones that live close to my house, and as Ms. Dorothy once said, "How fleeting are all human passions compared to the massive continuity of ducks."
I have had mussels as a mistake once upon a time ago, so I have sworn not to repeat that ingestion, but I did feel adventurous and eat fresh pepper and tamarind fruits when our guide offered them—that was just as addictive, if not more delicious. We were walking by a huge spice garden on this plot of land, so there was a lot of pointing and learning, but eventually, the best of us began to get distracted by the pouring sunlight, and so this invention was made: the husk of a banana stem, which fans away the sweat. And just for perspective, the silence of this lagoon is only broken by a few birds chirping every couple of seconds; otherwise, it would be impossible not to fall asleep in our seats!
Many of the birds and plants we see here are wild versions of the ones that get farmed, and I was left wondering if we could consume those original forms. And if not, could we get close enough to see them still? As a student of biology, the facts of evolution still amuse me—that one form of a plant can be traded in for another over time and genetics. Our guide later told us those can be toxic to eat, so I was disappointed—but not for long, as we returned to the shore and had one of the best traditional banana leaf lunches. I personally fell in love with the kadhi, and I still miss that flavour, looking at the picture with you!
The next event was a boat ride with an open top inside a small river channel to explore the route. It brought me back to my earlier question about wild versions of domesticated plants, as everything in here looms large and menacingly—so much so that we were being whacked by nearby leaves and shrubs like toys in despair. Well, not that dramatic, but it can best be described as aggressively high-fiving the trees. The giantness of these plants cannot be understated; if you're around them, you may start becoming philosophical too.
When we returned, we had a cup of chai and a very engaging session on weaving using a banana leaf. This happened at such a rapid speed that the expert woman seemed like an inbuilt machine, and that is definitely the work of a true artisan! She even invited our group members to try weaving with her, and the patterns came together fascinatingly well. She then pointed to the roof of her house, which constituted the leaf as the base layer, and it truly showed the tenacity of natural fibre. This was further impressed on us with her coconut coir threading. In this session, she explained the process of fermenting the coir before processing it into a yarn which can withstand huge loads of pressure. And with a round of applause for these workshops, we were already on our way back to Kochi.
I found us a nice restaurant to enjoy the evening sunset, and truly, nothing beats the sound of ocean waves after a day this immersive and engaging!
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