Day 17. First day in Kochi
Indians, Chinese, Portuguese, Dutch, English—merchants from all over the world wanted to take advantage of this remarkable site at some point, so precious for maritime trade. Cochin/Kochi was this opulent transit port on the spice and tea route during the first wave of globalization in the 15th and 16th centuries.
I love maritime atmospheres, old trading cities. Is the city still steeped in the spirit of the high seas? Probably a romanticized vision from a history buff, but I’m pretty excited to explore the historic neighborhoods of Fort Cochin and Mattancherry.
In reality, we’re quite far from the center—an hour’s drive before a ferry finally drops us off on the peninsula.
The long promenade along the port’s entrance channel presents a curious mix of traditional activities, like those of the fishermen, and tourist stalls. I’ve read on many blogs that people were disappointed by Cochin’s overly touristy vibe and the relentless pitches from vendors selling “anything and everything.” It’s a bit true. But nothing like what we endured last year in cities like Jaipur or Agra, for example.
I sense my companions are a little let down by the overall atmosphere. That’s not quite how I feel. I enjoy the sight of the Chinese fishing nets—those large nets stretched along the shore—as well as the cargo ships entering the port like elephants, heavy and slow.
After the somewhat disappointing visit to St. Francis Church, billed as the first European church built in India, we decide to do a little shopping along the neat, colorful, and flower-lined streets of the “European” quarter.
Marco, the guesthouse owner, had warned us with amused kindness about the formidable Kashmiri merchants, capable of “selling you anything that’s for sale.” Apparently, these immigrants from northern India have been softened by the languor of the South, because we found them less pushy than last year in Rajasthan. And we got some great deals... or at least, that’s what we *thought*...
A welcome break at the « Kashi Art Cafe », a trendy little eatery that also exhibits contemporary paintings. The place is really nice, stimulating. But I (we?) have a slight feeling that the India we love discovering—the one in Tamil Nadu, especially—is slipping away. Faced with this modernity, my feelings are mixed, though. After all, India isn’t just about cows wandering the streets, magnificent temples steeped in piety, or the chaos of dusty roads littered with trash.
I imagine a traveler coming to France and forming an idea of the country based solely on Paris and the arrondissements of the Île de la Cité. Every trip should be an opportunity, I think, for necessary self-reflection and questioning our own representations of the world. All while keeping the precious joy of discovery, exchange, wonder, questioning—or even accepting disappointment or rejection.
The sun is beating down harder and harder in the early afternoon. We decide to hop in a tuk-tuk to visit the Mattancherry Palace, also known as the Dutch Palace.
In the 16th century, the Portuguese cleverly offered this beautiful princely residence to the Raja of Cochin in exchange for lucrative trade concessions. Later, the Dutch, temporary masters of the place, renovated and embellished it.
The visit is fairly quick, but the glimpse of the royal chamber and its 17th-century murals is captivating. Frescoes depicting scenes from the Ramayana, dominated by blue, which we don’t understand without the right cultural codes, of course. But what strikes me the most are the ever-present, deeply expressive smiles of the gods and goddesses.
No inverted value judgment here, but I’m impressed by the Indian artists’ desire to always portray their gods with smiles, unlike ours, so often depicted in suffering.
We head back home. At the ferry dock, hardly anyone’s around. No tuk-tuks in sight. A little panic while we find a larger vehicle, a hybrid between a rickshaw and a taxi. “You know la Dame Rouge? Cherai Beach? Marco?” The magic word—Marco—he knows. Still, it’s 20 km away!
A peaceful return to the guesthouse for a Franco-Indian dinner of prawns marinated in lemon and spices, prepared by Thanga. As of today, Nathalie, Bruno, and Kate can attest—these are the best we’ve ever had in our lives!!!
Tomorrow, back to Kochi, which still has more to show us...
