Cochin (Kochi)
It’s not hard to imagine what Fort Cochin was like before tourism saturated this small area at the tip of the outer peninsula in Cochin or Kochi as it is now officially called. Progress cannot be avoided and it is no doubt a boom to the local economy but the area is full of tourists (Western and Indian alike), tourist restaurants, high end hotels, internet cafés, overpriced shops and travel agents offering package day trips to do backwaters boat trips or visit the elephant sanctuary.
What I was struck with, as the tuk-tuk brought me to Fort Cochin, was the pavements. You don’t often see them in India but here they are high above the road, which I soon realised was for the monsoon season when the roads become canals. The other observation was how many more of the men are wearing lunghis. And I don’t blame them with this heat and humidity during what they consider the ‘cold season’.
At the northern tip of the peninsula, are the Chinese fishing nets, which are quite a spectacle. A postcard of the nets that is clearly over a decade out of date shows a scrubland in front of the nets as opposed to the paved road and rows of stalls selling clothes, snacks, water and the usual array of tourists wares. Not the mention the hoards of people milling around, either tourists watching the nets in action, sellers trying to convince you to browse their stalls or rickshaw drivers offering to take you to the spice markets. The Chinese fishing nets start at the northern tip of the peninsula and run west. They are ingenious in their simplicity requiring only 
manpower and the laws of gravity to scoop up what seems like an endless stream of fish. The big structure lays a net out into the water. After five or ten minutes the net is pulled up by a group of men, large rocks tied to ropes hang from the top of the structure act as a counterbalance and once the net is up, keep it in place. Then they draw the net in and using a simple hand net, scoop out the fish that have been lifted in the net, swatting away the hoards of crows that are circling in the hopes of catching some stray pieces of fish caught in the outer regions. It is impressive to watch. I got beckoned in to observe from the inside by Johnson, who proudly showed my his catch pointing out different types of fish caught. I stood at the top and watched as he leant down, latching his leg on the side, to scoop the fish. When they lower the net again, one of the men climbs to the top of the 
net while the others lift the boulders until the natural laws of gravity take over and it gently sinks below the water’s surface. It was all very impressive and I was feeling quite privileged to have been invited inside looking at all the tourists watching from afar. Then Johnson asked me for some money. Of course. Why not? They no doubt work hard for little money. But to be honest, in that moment, he’d hurt my feelings. I thought he was just proudly showing me his craft and being friendly but I was just being naïve. In hindsight, it seems fair enough, and why shouldn’t they make an extra buck from the hoards of tourists that come and gawp at them? But in that moment, I was so surprised, I said I’d think about it and wandered off. Maybe I’ll pop back and say hi and slip him Rs100 (just less than £1.50).
Festival of Shiva Temple Ernakulum
“An eight-day annual extravaganza of Art, Culture & Tradition”
Cochin is divided into various areas and islands and there are ferries that run between them. Ernakulum is the main town on the mainland and much more like being in India than Fort Cochin. The passenger ferry runs at regular intervals from Fort Cochin to Ernakulum Jetty (Rs 2.50) and it’s a short walk to the Shiva Temple from there.
The schedule of events is different every day but we wanted to be sure to catch the ‘Elephant Procession’. We arrived in time to see the last two majestic beasts being washed and then adorned for the procession. 
The elephant was clearly enjoying the cool water being hosed over its body, turning around on command, so obviously very well trained. (Apparently they are 
quite harshly ‘broken’ to be so obedient). Then the elephant held out his trunk, the hose filled it with water, and then he swung it over his head and sprayed water over his back. Quite a sight. Scrubbed clean, the enormous creature ambled after the trainer to get his headdress 
attached. He lifted his back leg, giving the man a ‘leg up’ to climb on to his back. A shiny gold head piece was attached to the forehead (if elephants have foreheads) of the elephant. Once everything was secured, the elephant was walked into the temple, the chains on his legs clanking as he lumbered after the mahout (elephant trainer). No leash or ropes. The other elephants were already poised, standing in position like gigantic ornaments in the front courtyard of the Shiva Temple.
Inside, people were performing a harvest ritual to secure a good harvest next season. Pouring grains from a big basket with a spout into a metal bucket, slipping the man some rupees, who then pours the grain back into the basket for the next person. There were various types of grains and at the far end, a basket of what looked like elephant pooh. Not sure what that was blessing, but surprisingly, it didn’t seem as popular as the others.
At some point after all the elephants were in place, the musicians came out. Bare-chested men dressed in white mundus (white lunghis). The elephants marched around the temple in a 
clockwise direction and came to a stop in a row, as it happened, right in front of where I was sitting. More musicians came out, mainly drummers facing the beasts. Facing them, directly in front of the elephants, was a row of screeching clarinet-typed wind instruments and a row of buglers with horns that were almost a full circle, seeming to project into the backs of the players. What followed was an intense drumming session. Piles of leafy branches were laid out on the ground in front of the elephants and they spent the next couple of hours slowly munching away, their trunks picking up little bunches of branches and curling up, popping them into their open mouths. Meanwhile, there were three young, bare-chested men on their backs. The front boy sitting at the elephant’s neck, holding steady a tall umbrella. Behind him, two 
more boys who stood up every time the buglers played, arms aloft. The front boy holding up a venchamarm, a fluffy pom-pom-esque thing (I hate to say resembling an enormous duster) which he span and the boy at the back holding an alavattom, a flat, decorated, circular piece with furry edging (see photo for a better description). These hand-held pieces are specific to the ritual of elephants at temple festivals, their meaning still unknown to me after asking several people.
I can’t really describe how mesmerising the whole spectacle was. I think I was partly spellbound at watching this row of enormous creatures feeding themselves within arms reach of where I was sitting, but the volume and power of the ritualistic drumming was also trance-inducing and I was surprised to see that over an hour had slipped by.
“You can’t have a temple festival without an elephant.”
There is an interesting debate or argument about the ethics of the treatment that elephants in India endure. They are so deeply engrained in the custom and rituals of the Hindu religion that it would be foolish for politicians to ban the cruel treatment of these majestic animals. But it’s a sad story They are often driven mad by the lives they endure, sometimes, unsurprisingly, killing their mahouts. From the noise and mania of the spectacles of these festivals to the transportation around the country to other temples to go through the ritual again and again, life is not easy for these beasts. The mahout keeps the creature 
completely under manners. It was amazing to watch when the elephant in front me lurched forward slightly, the mahout simply made a slight hand gesture which seemed hardly in the elephant’s field of vision and the elephant dutifully stepped back. The mahouts have sticks with a metal point at the end, which I realised was to prod the beasts to keep them in line. It is not surprising that they need bully the animals to train them, as nature would have it that they are far mightier than man, so man must resort to physical bullying. I wonder how many years it will take for animal rights movements to pierce through such ancient religious rituals and make people see it is fundamentally inhumane. If ever. In the meantime, it is thought provoking and I have to admit, pretty awe-inspiring to watch.
