Steven and I had gotten up insanely early near the airport in Sri Lanka's capital to catch a 7:20 flight to Kochi, a city in southern India that has been drawing traders, explorers and visitors for over 600 years. There was what seemed to us to be extraordinary security even before we arrived at the Colombo airport with armed guards opening car doors checking to see who was inside, verifying passports, then our bags checked through X-ray machines before even checking in for our flight, and then again after going through security. Because of the coronavirus, we had to fill out two health forms for the Indian government, including one for its health department and also have our temperatures checked before departing.
It was only on arrival at the airport on Friday the 13th of March in Colombo that we learned that the Indian government had specified this would be the last day any international flights could arrive in their country because of the advancing coronavirus. To say that was a shock and wake up call for us is no exaggeration. But did we then realize we should cancel the rest of our four-month trip to much of Asia and the Middle East and head home right away? Nope - and I can only say we were still in a 'travel fog' and unwilling to accept that the whole world was about to change and it would very soon be unsafe for us to stay put.
It was only on arrival at the airport on Friday the 13th of March in Colombo that we learned that the Indian government had specified this would be the last day any international flights could arrive in their country because of the advancing coronavirus. To say that was a shock and wake up call for us is no exaggeration. But did we then realize we should cancel the rest of our four-month trip to much of Asia and the Middle East and head home right away? Nope - and I can only say we were still in a 'travel fog' and unwilling to accept that the whole world was about to change and it would very soon be unsafe for us to stay put.
Two days earlier, our hotel in Kochi that we'd reserved about eight months previously had cancelled on us so we were fortunate getting a reservation at the utterly charming Indy Old Courthouse House Hotel for the next three nights. On arrival, we were even treated to fresh watermelon juice!
After settling in for a bit, we headed out to see some of the sights in Kochi as it was still so early in the day. The historical European part of the city was located where we were in Fort Cochin. Kochi was located in the Indian state of Kerala that has drawn traders to the scent of its spices for more than 3,000 years. I'd read that the coastal area had been known to the Phoenicians, the Romans, the Arabs, and the Chinese as well as being a transit point from eastern Indonesia.
Neither Steven nor I had heard of Kerala until we spent considerable time in the Middle East a few years ago and had come across people working in service industries, every one of whom came from Kerala! It was almost comical and we soon decided this was an area of India we wanted to explore after reading of the state's UNESCO-listed sites. The state is not just one of the most progressive in India, it also boasts the nation's highest literacy rate.
Not surprisingly, others have learned of its beauty so that Kerala has emerged as one of the most popular tourism hot spots in India. It's even been described as God's Own Country! Our plan was to spend a few days in Kochi, and then take a boat through Kerala's Western Ghats, see a tiger reserve and the Backwaters for another ten days. Ahh, the plans of mice and men ...!
The 45 minutes or so we'd been walking from the hotel Steven and I kept hearing the constant sounds of Muslim prayers amplified over loudspeakers being sung from mosques since we were in a heavily Muslim area. Strangely enough, though, we didn't see one mosque.
We stopped at St. George's Orthodox Koonan Kurish Old Syrian Church where a sign instructed worshippers to dress modestly, to remove shoes before entering, and not to sit cross legged in church. The latter was a new rule for me!
There was a single row of nine plastic chairs on the left for men and the same number on the right for women.
We'd hoped to enter the nearby Sree Vardhman Jain Temple but a sign said it was closed to foreigners because of Covid-19. That was the first indication we had that things around us were already changing for tourists but it still didn't alarm us as it should have in hindsight.
About two miles south of Fort Cochin was the old bazaar district of Mattancherry and the center of the spice trade. Before we reached that area, we came to Jewtown and its Gan Shalom Synagogue which translated to Garden of Peace. We were disappointed on seeing a sign that said visitors were not allowed but then noticed maintenance workers arriving on a motorcycle and asked if we could enter. When they pointed to the sign, I remarked that we'd come all the way from North America and this would be our only chance of seeing it. They relented and we were in!
The cemetery wall and shed had been erected in honor of Ephraim Jacob Ochen and his sister in September of 1898.
To be able to freely walk among the ancient gravestones was such an honor, we thanked the men by tipping them but they insisted our 'donation' go toward the cemetery's maintenance.
Moments after we left we noticed other tourists wanting to enter but they weren't as fortunate as we'd been.
With the word 'crafters' in its name, the store drew me in like a magnet! However, it only sold furniture so we didn't dawdle long.
The Star of David on this building was a clear indication we were in the middle of Jewtown.
Walking down the street filled with shops and shop owners each standing outside imploring us to enter felt like running a gauntlet to me so I was reluctant to do any window shopping.
Darlene: You'd have loved this next shop that was full of beautiful clothes that had been hand-dyed on the spot with vegetable dyes.
With all the spice stores, the air was redolent with the aromas of ginger, cloves, and cardamon.
The Little Queen Embroidery store caught my attention right away as we knew we were excitedly expecting not one, but two granddaughters in just a matter of months. The store had a wonderful collection of the sweetest dresses but I wasn't confident that our daughter and daughter-in-law would opt for angelic, white, smocked dresses that would have to be ironed. I also feared they might consider the dresses too fussy.
At the end of the row of shops was the Pardesi Synagogue that originally dated to 1598 though it was partially destroyed by the Portuguese in 1662. It was then rebuilt two years later by the Dutch when they took over Kochi.
The synagogue was closed and no amount of persuasion was sufficient to allow us entry unfortunately. How we'd loved to have viewed the hand-painted, willow-pattern floor tiles from Canton, China, the Belgian chandeliers and other details. Though the majority of Pardesi's Jews have emigrated, I read the synagogue has still been excellently preserved. Perhaps we can restart our interrupted trip in Kochi next year and then be able to tour the synagogue.
Next post: We saw so much more that day but I want to save Kochi's iconic Chinese fishing nets, St. Francis Church, the Dutch Cemetery, etc for another day.
If you feel like a change of pace, here's a link to my most recent post on the amazing Assyrian exhibits and the elegant Elgin Marbles taken from Greece we saw at the British Museum in London last October.
Posted on June 30th, 2020, from Spokane Valley, Washington state near Coeur D'Alene, Idaho, where we came to visit friends who moved there from Denver. It's been scary and frankly pretty horrifying to read of the recent, huge increases in the number of coronavirus cases across many part of the US. Steven and I hope you are each safe, and that you will continue to take special care of yourself and loved ones.
