Pirates, Cochin and Mumbai

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

I hear murmurs about pirates and there is razor wire on the end of the ship.  In certain ports lately the end of the promenade deck has been closed and there is a large thing that looks like a search light or signaling system as well as very bored ship’s officers patrolling the area.  The captain at his noon announcement actually mentions the pirate issue and reminds us that this is a large, fast ship and not likely to get caught.  Also, this a tremendously busy area, and while the pirates are truly active, a small fraction of one percent of ships are affected. 

Thursday, March 24, 2011

We have a pirate drill this morning rather like the old atom bomb attack drills when we were school children.  There are daily bulletins about what to expect.  This morning we were told that if we wish to cancel tours in the affected areas here and in the Middle East, they will forgive the cancellation fees.  Meanwhile life goes on.

Saturday, March 26, 2011, Cochin (or Kochi), India

Cochin, which means little China, has been a port city for centuries and everyone has been here—the Chinese who were the first foreigners, the Jews, the Portuguese, the Dutch and the British.  Today it remains a vibrant, multi-ethnic city of many religions where, we are assured, all of the groups get along well except that the Jewish community has dwindled to ten for reasons that are not entirely clear.  We were supposed to see the synagogue which would be truly interesting as it is both very old and in India, but today is the Sabbath, and it is closed.  We take a cruise around the harbor.  It is very hot and humid, and we are grateful for the breeze.  Cochin has wonderful trees everywhere.  We see a resort with some honeymoon cottages set at the height of the lower branches and a group of people who wave at us.  We visit the Dutch Palace and see eighteenth century wall-paintings of the story of the Ramayana.  No pictures.  The colors are made of vegetable paints.  We continue to the Chinese fishing nets which have been here for many centuries and are set at the ends of short docks, lowered into the water and raised with fish in them.  One hopes.  We saw a few prawns for sale in the fish market but other groups saw a real market with bidding.  There are many buses, and I guess, it matters which one you are on.  We go by many interesting buildings including a red fort hotel.  We visit the church where Vasco de Gama was originally buried.  He was moved long ago to Portugal; we finish at the Bishop’s house museum and back to the ship at three, hungry and hot, and head straight to the bar for a beer and then to the ninth floor for some food to tide us over to dinner.

From here, a day or two at sea and then Mumbai.

March 28. 2011 Mumbai

India is still India, but the hawkers are less aggressive here than in Delhi.  They are still aggressive, though.  It is hot, humid and hazy, dusty and a city of contrasts.  No social security here.  The beggars have no back-up.  Forty percent of the eighteen million people here live below the poverty line.

Mumbai is a city of seven islands.  Ninety-five percent are Hindu or Sikh.  There are also Muslims, Parsi, Christians and Jews.  Eighty per cent are Hindu, fifteen percent are Muslim, the rest then make up only five percent.  The town is cricket mad and a big match is forthcoming.  There is much practicing and crowds of men around the cricket fields.  Mumbai is the home of the world’s biggest film industry outproducing Hollywood although we don’t see the films. 

We drive by the Parsi Towers of Silence although we can’t actually see them.  The Parsi believe in killing no living animal—some wear masks to avoid breathing in an insect.  Their dead are left out for the vultures and the bones thrown into a pit.  Not even the family observes—only the bearers and those directly involved.  They are followers of Zoroaster and famous, although not necessarily observant members of the tradition are the Tata family (hotels, cars, banks, etc.) and Zubin Mehta.

We visit the Dhobi Ghat or outdoor laundry to take pictures and a house which is now a museum where Mahatma Gandhi often stayed.  Another photo stop is the Gateway to India build at the time of Queen Victoria’s visit to India and which is just across from the Taj Hotel built by a Tata forbear when refused admission to the hotel which is now next door because he was Indian.  The Taj is magnificent and several tour members had lunch there, and one pronounced it one of the best meals in her live.  It was bombed a few years ago, but is clearly restored.

The Hanging Gardens are a recent invention built over a water reservoir to avoid evaporation.  The soil is only three feet deep and hence although the gardens are pretty, there is no shade.