By Anagha Biju
I wonder how city guides ruled the roost of introducing the city to its tourists. Granted that they are convenient, quick and to the point- but being a traveler who prefers stories over bare facts any time, blogs and travel literature are my best pals to familiarizing with the city before jaunting across on my own. But our trip to Kochi was all too sudden to even have time to hunt for blogs telling myriad stories of Fort Kochi. The fact that it was only two women, who have no clue about Kochi apart from keywords like Mattancherry, Chinese Fishing Nets, and Jews, were to undertake the trip meant there were basic facts like train timing and travel spots to be sorted foremost than hunt for stories and legends.
Poring over Sahapedia’s cultural map of Kochi, I was at a loss as to which spots to give a miss. Kochi had been on the bucket list for quite a long time and I did not want to leave out any interesting locations, which were aplenty, due to lack of a planned itinerary. With former experiences of Google (one stop guide to all problems) having presented even the most banal locations as the most picturesque, I did not want to waste away my few daylight hours in Kochi in places that I could have done away with. And without any wonder, Google’s hotspot suggestions of Dutch Palace and Chinese Fishing Net would not top my Kochi spotting list!
Sahapedia was proving to be too exhaustive a source. Mulling over which places to give a miss I thought of asking people for suggestions. Surprisingly, friends from Kochi proved to be of little help- one, a native resident of Kochi says she has not ever visited Fort Kochi! Finally the guiding light came all the way from Kerala’s northern tip of Kannur- my friend gave me a first hand account of Kochi and assured me that all prominent destinations were in close proximity and can be easily covered in a day. Loaded with facts and scraps of stories, daybreak was eagerly awaited.
Our yatra did not begin all shubham– we returned empty handed from several atoms, our train as usual was late, and the ‘Mother of all Follies’ was our enthusiastic decision to reach the Willingdon island through road. Our plan was to take the boat from here to Fort Kochi, which meant we explore both the routes to the island. Apart from losing our way, running around in circles, and being charged a lot of money- there was nothing to the expedition. Thankfully our auto rickshaw driver was extremely polite who had the patience to run about and not leave us stranded inside the port area. His own unfamiliarity with this route also meant he could not exactly blame us for wasting his time, but of course who takes the road to Willingdon?
We finally ended up before the dainty port museum which was actually the residence of Robert Bristow, the chief engineer responsible for building the artificial island of Willingdon. Being the only two visitors (this is what happens if you only refer to the search engine for suggestions), we were given a detailed tour of the articles on display by the museum staff. Photographs chronicle the construction of the island, parts of ships of yore like gigantic lights and horns, compasses, engines, and some unique furniture are the chief highlights. Located away from the bustle of the main city, inside the Southern naval command, the building is indeed serene and charming. Close by is the jetty where we took the boat to Fort Kochi. The boat, as crowded as it was large, contained mostly localities making way to the city than the tourists.
Our first stop at Fort Kochi was supposed to be the Paradesi Synagogue, the oldest functioning synagogue in the commonwealth countries. In a bid to help our auto rickshaw driver get an additional bonus, we two posed as non- malyalees, which we apparently naturally looked like,, to visit the All Spices Market. So the scheme goes thus, if the driver brings non malayalee customers to the shop, even if they don’t buy anything, the driver gets a coupon of 50 rupees as commission. The malayalees were exempted, according to our driver, because they never bought anything despite all the efforts of the salespersons unlike tourists who would lose no opportunity to buy the spices from The Land of Spices. We two playing our part well enquired about the vanilla sticks, the various powders, had a sample of the most refreshing herbal tea, and true to our Malayalee nature, walked out all smiles, no shopping bags.
Ginger being processed for export at the All Spices Market
After our slight twerk to the schedule, but which was worth the visit, we bid adieu to the auto chettan, and scanning the various shops lining Jew Street made way to the Jewish synagogue. Not wide in area, but mesmerizing nevertheless with the bright coloured chandeliers overtop and Chinese blue tiles, each of a different design lining the floor, the Jewish place of worship was crowded enough with tourists. The wooden pews beside the windows were ideal seats to take in the whole building. I regretted not having read about Jewish culture. Outside a scene of disobedience caught was unfolding- a teen boy had been caught violating the holy rule of ‘Photography Prohibited’ found in most historic monuments. The history of the Jews in Kochi can be traced through the panels displayed in the adjoining room.
Jew Street is a shopper’s delight, an art and foodie’s delight thanks to the numerous art cafes that throng here—many were erstwhile warehouses. Seeing the Jew caps called the Kippah, we entered a quiet little shop, which after a week we realized, belonged to one of the most important Jewish figures in Kerala. Seeing the old lady resting in her arm chair, unperturbed by the humming of the sewing machine, little did we know that she was the oldest living Jew in Kerala. Her death on August 30, only three months after our visit, marked the death of someone embodying the brilliant fusion of Kerala and Jewish culture. The white scarves and towels had a unique stitch design conceived by Cohen and she had ensured that her legacy had been passed on to localities who I hope continue to keep the shop running for its unique souvenirs. Also there are many shops that sell antiques- actual antiques like, broken doors and chairs and jewellery boxes which they repair in the workshop itself and put for sale. Many old family photographs were also on sale. Foreign tourists often bought them for their sheer picture quality and used them as postcards.
Entrance to Jew Street
We did visit the Dutch Palace but apart from the beautiful building reflecting Kerala architecture, it was just like any other museum (my lack of knowledge about museum artifacts, I admit, is clearly not in the right places) and unfortunately just like how it was described in Google. So after a quick tour and a bit scrambling about for a ride we headed out to see the famed fishing nets. Google images show the beautiful sun at the backdrop, the huge expanse of water and the nets on the other end. Wondering if my Oppo will zoom enough to capture the net at least in a blur, imagine my shock when the auto stopped right under the net. The nets were being lowered and it was towering right over our heads- an image I had never imagined. I remember asking the driver if I can see the nets clearly, little did I know I would be watching it so closely!!
The farthest shot of the net I managed having been so close to it
After we had come back to Bangalore, my sister and I were sending each other clips and articles about Jew street and Sarah Cohen that we coincidently kept coming across. At the same time social media feed of malayalees were flooding with videos of Jar Soda- a drink that I struggle to describe. After a year of hearing about Kulukki Soda, I finally had my Boost Kulikki in Kochi. The chettan had asked me if I wanted to try Jar Soda- but Google not having notified me about it, I gave it a skip. If I had had the Jar Soda, and posted a video of the drink flooding out of the taller glass because a smaller glass had been popped into it- I would have been one among the earliest promoters of the new style soda, the new rage in town. Sigh. So merely a week after my visit, Google sends me notification after notification about the drink I missed!
Kochi taught me that to experience the nitty- gritty of a place; people are still the best source than Google which presents data merely based on algorithms. They say Kochi is a feeling, and to understand Kochi you need to hear the heartbeats of the people who tell you proudly about Kochi’s culture and history. For the first time I felt like I was not seeing places, but seeing places in people- all the shop vendors who amused us with their charming talks, the nice old uncle who walked us through the beach to the St Francis Church where Vasco da Gama was buried for 13 years, all our auto rickshaw chettans, and the many people who offered us directions and suggestions- they all were as good as Fort Kochi. I actually felt like a cherished tourist there and never had I felt so safe in so strange a land!! I was waiting for Kochi to happen, and am glad it did happen in the best possible way with the best possible partner!
Kashi Art Café, prime venue of Kochi-Muziris Biennale
Shehari Safarnama 
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