Pelakannu and Tyler Too

I am reminded that Dustin Vannatter, of vannatter.com, swanky.org, swankarmy.net, chank, and our eFaction shenannigans from years gone by, had a dog named Tyler Too. Great name for a dog. Man, those were the days. Any swanksters out there reading this?

In unrelated but more current news.. I am in the town of Pelakannu in northern Kerala. It's a small town (a strip along the highway, realy) wedged between Kasaragod and Kanhangad. Just north of Bekal Fort.

I am staying at the Eeyem Lodge, a pink and mint-green hotel right next to a mosque. It's set back from the road, behind a strip mall containing a thali meals shop, some type of electronics shop that's been closed for the past 3 days, a motorcycle/car detailing shop run by young 20-something guys who leave scraps of colored vinyl stickers all over the driveway, a great little dry goods market selling everything you could want, and a bicycle repair shop. Oh, and a nice little jewelry shop with a few tantalizing silver bracelets that may very well ensnare me and my wallet before week's end.

My room, number 320, is up on the G+3 floor in the back (i.e. up three flights of stairs). The room contains two small single beds, one of which is covered in luggage and clothes and one of which is covered in my sleeping sheet and pajamas, a sink, and a clean bathroom with a clean squat toilet and good water pressure. My window has a pretty metal grate on it, and two frosted glass windows that open out onto the back balcony/walkway. I have a small 12"x12" square stool to sit on, which I've occupied for at least ten hours in the past three days. I pass time sitting out on the back walkway looking out over the coconut groves behind the building. I watch the palm trees sway in the breeze, watch the resident eagle attempt to catch crows, listen to the call to prayer emanating from the mosque, and read, write, listen to music or talk to fellow travelers.

The residents of our little Eeyem Enclave include Rene, an older Frenchman from Paris who's been living there for 2 months; Kevin a mid-50's retired taxi driver from northern Ireland who serves me nightcaps of knockoff Sprite and Indian brandy; myself; and a trio of Germans (one girl, two guys) in their early 30s who read weighty books and smoke like chimneys. There are two other rooms empty on our floor, and I'm curious to see who will join us next.

The beach is about twenty minutes' walk away, down rusty red dirt roads past comfortable middle to upper class homes. The beach is about a kilometer long and is bounded by palm groves and low hills on the inland side and 20 ft high rocky cliffs to the north and south. The rocks, banded grey, dark grey and reddish grey granitic/granodioritic gneisses, are simply beautiful in the sunset light (photos forthcoming). The beach is practically empty - last night there were about twenty Keralans, myself, Rene and Kevin.

At the hotel next door, there's a tasty simple restaurant where the staff nod and smile when I walk in. (This is partly due, I'm sure, to the fact that I've been generous in my tips). They do a wicked fresh-squeezed orange juice and reasonable peas masala. Their coffee, however, leaves something to be desired.

I'll be here at least for a week. At 100 rupees per night for the room and an average of 150 rupees per day for food, my expenses are at a bare minimum. I figure waiting until the end of the month will put me in good financial stead to conquer lusher, pricier destinations in Karnataka and Goa. Then up into Gujarat and Rajasthan, then onward to Nepal.

headlouse is safely back home in San Francisco. It was difficult saying goodbye in Kochi, and a few times I burst into tears while hugging him. We had a fantastic three weeks together, and now we're embarking upon six months apart. Last night I woke up in the middle of the night and mistook my pillow for his sleeping form - it took me a few moments to grasp reality and realize that I was alone in a small room in Pelakannu, hearing drums and fireworks echo in the distance. Disappointed but comfortable, I rolled onto my other side and fell back asleep. This morning, I awoke at 10am feeling refreshed and content.

Despite the difficulty of saying goodbye, and that brief stint of loneliness last night, I've adjusted comfortably to my solitude. I'm relishing the time alone to read, write, listen to music and meditate. The act of separation was rough, but now that our paths are firmly split I am at peace.

Two nights ago I had a wonderful 2-hour phone call from Mr. Avocado. We talked about all manner of things. As usual, it was wonderful to hear his voice. He will be here in India in a little over two months! We firmed up some scheduling details (Delhi>Varanasi by way of Lucknow>Nepal) and both said "hi" and "wow" a lot. I'll refrain from going into too much mushy detail, but sufficed to say we are both quite excited and curious about what April brings.

The internet cafe appears to double as a computer training facility. In the room across from me, a large group of teenage to twenty-something Keralan girls are crowded around computers, listening to a training tape in Malayalam. Several of them are in saris, several in salwar khameez, and two are in Moslem outfits (don't know the name?) - like burkas but open-faced. They're all quite giggly.