We left on election day, having cast our vote by mail, to escape our civic detachment (disillusionment). In Kerala, India, we enjoyed a tour to paradise. We drove from Dharmathupatti to Munnar, from there to Kumily (Periyar National Forest), and on to Mariar Beach, where we stayed in the Abad Turtle Beach resort on the coast.
We didn’t see wild elephants but we took note of this reclaimed plastic artifact in Munnar.
Along the serpentine ways through the Western Ghats we saw lush tea and cardamom plantations; farther down towards the coast, rubber trees, pineapple, mangoes, coconut, and extensive rice fields in the backwater region. We also took one of the famous houseboat trips on the coastal backwater canals.
Kerala is under communist leadership. From driving through the land, catching fleeting impressions with my tourist eyes, I thought that individuals, even the lowliest street hawkers, feel more like a part of society than any of us in the US of A. People in India know their roles, rights, and entitlements. Participation in the community in Kerala appeared to be much stronger than in the US, where half the population doesn’t even vote. We saw a communist rally march, noticed many campaign posters, and spotted numerous calls for recycling and other public service announcements.
A government can certainly make people feel as a part of the whole. Take for example the Periyar National Park and Tiger Reserve. Since its inception in 1982, the Periyar National Park has enrolled its local villagers as guardians of the preserve. That was a smart move, because now the locals have gained not only a source of income as guides and rangers, they have also dropped what one official brochure called “poaching.”
At the Gavi safari headquarters, at least a dozen guides met up with their tourists in small groups; breakfast and lunch provided at the cafeteria. Vijay, our guide who lives in the ecotourism village of Gavi, took us on a small hike from the ranger station to the top of one of the 18 hills in the park. All hikers had to wear gaiters up to the knee to protect us against leeches.
The hike was short but quite scenic. At the peak of the hill, Vijay directed our attention to the Sabarimala temple, nestled in the valley’s jungle. The famous sanctuary can only be reached on foot via a trail and nevertheless the temple attracts 10–15 million pilgrims annually, although it has restrictive opening seasons. A military station has been built next to it to watch over the ever increasing amount of gold in the sanctuary, as well as to monitor the religious fervor. Holy passions have a history of getting out of hand in a land of many faiths. Hinduism, Islam, and Christianity are all running their strong agendas.
At Periyar National Park, you can’t go hiking on your own. First of all, about 800 elephants live in the area. Although we saw plenty manure on the narrow road, we unfortunately didn’t spot an animal as such. Second, the park is home to an estimated 40 tigers and some hundred leopards, who may be looking for an easy meal. Third, there are few trails and, as anywhere in the wild, you could get lost and bitten by one of the 300 species of poisonous snakes. Dead tourists are no good advert. Bottom line: don’t go hiking without a ranger. Last but not least, tribals live in the forest too. And they also want to be left alone.
Vijay rowed us in a boat to the Gavi waterfall, which also provides the water for the ecotourism center. He pointed out various species of birds and spotted an orchid called Dancing Girl. He took us on a walk through the arboretum, where we learned about wild mango, chiku (sapodilla), guava, plantains, and allspice. He lit up the resin from the Boswellia serrata tree (frankincense). He was very knowledgeable and proud to share the natural beauties. His forebears may have been poachers, but Vijay now had become an advocate and protector for his paradise.
And there are lots of animals in it. We saw monkeys of several species, herds of gaur (bison), sambar (deer), mongoose, and birds of all kinds on an afternoon boat trip on Lake Periyar. And Vijay and the other rangers had a proud stake in all of this. They enjoyed protecting and sharing the forest at the same time. Of course, we missed out on the tigers, perhaps good so. And we also didn’t spot an elephant. But their droppings were plenty.
Kerala, like all of India, is densely populated. Nothing goes without collaboration because you depend on it. We eventually arrived at our final destination at Abad resort. Even the beach bum dogs of Marari Beach understand this. The packs of mutts wait patiently every morning for the fisher boats to return. The symbiosis between fishermen, dogs, and restaurant trash has deep roots.
Kerala, a true garden state, seems like an ecological paradise. (Duh, close your eyes when there is dust over the tea plantation. Pesticides are are a common practice.) Yes, there is occasional trash, but less so than in other parts of India. Then there are plastic bottle hunters who pile up sacks mile high on their bicycles. Imagine, the cow poop will be dried and serve as fuel for cooking. There are coconuts of which every part can be put to use, even the coir from the husk to make fibers to stuff mattresses. To find out more, visit the Coconut Museum near Marari Beach. There is no part in a coconut that can’t be used.
In the old days, a whole house could be roofed with palm leaves. There is much reuse and recycle going on based on the scarcity of materials but also new inventions such as paper straws have made their way to market. In our resort, Abad Turtle Beach, three miniature bovines were kept on premises, not for milk but for lawn mowing, their manure serving to fertilize the vegetable garden.
Our Kerala trip gave us one of the best flavors of eco-tourism. When the locals are collaborating to preserve their natural treasures, this kind of business is an enrichment for all involved and does (hopefully) the least harm. Tourism will never take off with “no harm” involved. But in the national parks in Kerala the flow of people is strictly controlled. It has to be. With a population of about 1.5 billion plus some tourists, the pristine lands for wildlife are precious and irreplaceable. We don’t want to trample them down.
GRMC alumni at front entrance (left to right): Dr. Sunil Mathew, Dr. Inder RS Makin, Dr. Praneal Sharma, Dr. Kayemba-Kay’s Simon, Dr. Jaspreet Brar, Dr. Shahin Nooreyezdan, and Dr. Jay Maharaj
Seven distinguished medical professionals returned to their college tracks at the Gwalior Medical College, Madhya Pradesh, India, after 45 years in international career tracks: Reconstructive Surgeon Dr. Shahin Nooreyedzan, New Delhi; Radiologist Dr. Praneal Sharma, Sydney, Australia; Psychiatrist Dr. Jaspreet Brar, Pittsburgh, USA; Hepatologist Dr. Sunil Mathew, Kochi, Kerala; Pediatrician Dr. Kayemba-Kay’s Kabangu Simon (native of Democratic Republic of Congo), from France; Biomedical Engineer Prof. Dr. Inder Raj Singh Makin, Phoenix, Arizona; and Family Physician Dr. Jay C Maharaj from Durban, South Africa.
The international group of doctors, most accompanied by their supportive spouses, retraced their college experience. They visited the various departments at GRMC campus, where college Dean Dr. R.K.S. Dhakar received the alumni in his conference room. The international group also chanced upon a dear colleague from the old days, Dr. Ranjna Tiwari, Professor of Community Health and expert sitar player.
“I had to take this young man under my wings back then, because he didn’t speak a word of Hindi,” Dr. Tiwari said about Dr. Maharaj, from South Africa. The Gwalior professor was bowled over with affection.
A number more surprises were sprung on the seven Gwalior alumni. Jaikishen (a.k.a “Jack”) chai stand was now surrounded by high volume traffic and the trees were missing, but the pakora, samosas, and chai were still delicious. A memorable photograph was recreated at the Talkatora pool location after 45 years, each doctor modeling the former pose of studious interest.
During the course of two days, the medical professionals went down memory lane swapping stories of mischief and accomplishments. The city had changed a lot but eventually each alumnus sleuthed out their former abodes. The seven GRMC exes, who had been planning this joint outing for the last five years, bonded even more strongly over this exciting endeavor.
“I can’t get over the fact that this feels like yesterday. But we are sure glad not to be staying in the dorms any more,” Dr. Nooreyedzan joked. Whew! His colleagues agreed with him wholeheartedly. They all had accomplished their specialties coming from the rigorous training ground of GRMC’s medical degree program.
A story about food poisoning seems tacky. I kept this draft on file for two years. After much indigestion with our elections, this seems to be the perfect timing.
What a dreadful topic! Did you ever have food poisoning? Probably, yes. My physique makes me prone to attract biohazards. But I will spare you most of the messy details except for these.
My first food poisoning that I can remember happened on a Monday, layout day at the weekly paper print shop. I was in my twenties. Unfortunately, the lunch salad at the Italian bistro must have been laced with pathogens. I had to use the train to get to the print shop across town, somehow made it just in time. I thought I would explode at ten-minute intervals for the next two hours. But somehow I got the paper done, and the toilet (t)issues too.
All my trips to India have been memorable and enriched with cultural experiences. But the first trip put me into the emergency room. Fortunately, disaster hit towards the end of the journey. And fortunately I kept the stuff inside on the flight by using utmost restraint, although with a barf bag in hand. I ended up fighting this remarkable bout of food poisoning on American soil with an IV for rehydration two days later. It also passed. I never knew what organism had hit me. My family made a diagnosis: Delhi belly.
I had two memorable encounters with some tough bugs at American eateries. One happened at a popular Mexican theme restaurant. Maybe the critter hid in the chalupa? The other disaster struck at a soup and sandwich shop. Was something in the tomato soup or was I contaminated by bathroom use? The spotty potty should have been a warning.
Either way, both these incidences, sent me to urgent care after the second day. And so did the bottom layer of a prewashed salad box. OK, here is something that I learned. Wash it, wash it, wash it, even when it says, “ready to serve”. One time I went to a vegetarian party given by a newly minted vegan. Doubtlessly, the veggies were scrupulously clean. However, the mix of cooked beans, fresh sprouts, and cabbagy things set off some gas works of a monumental nature. Cramps, cramps, cramps—I was afraid of involuntary releases. And yet I kept my smiley face and conversation. The longest party in my memory.
Interestingly, I cannot recall any bouts with the infamous Montezuma’s revenge, even though I have traveled to Mexico frequently. The Mexican bugs have so far agreed with me.
My longest lasting food poisoning, contracted in Mumbai in 2004, must have dragged out for about a year. Initially, the affliction started with severe stomach and intestinal eruptions. I was lucky since my place of stay had a functioning Western toilet.
To this day, I vividly imagine that slightly tattered papaya that I bought from the grimy sidewalk. Ask natives, they will easily admit that Mumbai streets are filthy, especially during the monsoon, when sewers spill into the street and mingle with the drinking water. Let’s say, it was the papaya and that I didn’t wash it well enough.
Or had the microbe jumped from my toddler’s mustardy diapers? After the acute infections had subsided, the problem lingered on. I lost weight, felt weak and listless. It was a parasite called giardia, which hopped around the family for about a year. That brought on excessive trips to the doctor, disgusting medication (metronidazole), and regular testing—until all family members took the medication simultaneously.
My husband survived the food poisoning. No such luck for me.
All done with that, here comes the best. I would call it the Jaipur double-trouble. Yeah, I can still precisely picture the”last supper” from a reputable-looking restaurant. My husband and I, we both enjoyed it. Exactly after two hours—I had ingested a fast-acting little critter—my fever-vomit tango started. My Indian husband seemed to be taking the food bug (lingering resistance) just fine until four more hours later.
Let’s chill, I pleaded. What? he said, waste the whole sightseeing trip in a four-star hotel? No way, Jose! That’s the kind of people we are. So up goes my six-month-old in an L.L. Bean carrier, and we take the town of Jaipur. Wait, let me puke a little before I take the picture of the Red Fort. Tonight we’ll puke in tandem. And tomorrow we’ll try not to fall through the hole between the two footprints of the bumpy train while doing the other business.
Yeah, what a trip that was! And why am I telling you all this? When I have traveled to distant places, adventures have made my trips memorable. Food poisoning has sharpened my perception so much that some images are indelibly burnished on my mind. Food poisoning has made me more aware—and Jaipur quite unforgettable.
However, don’t be foolish and get a food poisoning on purpose just for the sight-seeing experience. I have been there. It’s not so enjoyable. I did not carelessly challenge my fate, but stuff happens, you know.
Tasting local foods is still what makes foreign travels ultimately exciting. Be judicious about eating, but savor your delicacies without regret after you accept the risk of natural reactions.
How to Avoid Food Poisoning
Wash hands conscientiously
Use bottled water for brushing your teeth
Wash all fruits and vegetables thoroughly with clean water
On the road, eat only fruits that can be peeled (orange, banana etc)
Look for freshly deep fried foods
Packaged cookies, crackers, snacks are OK
Bakery items are a good selection
Canned foods are a safe option
Avoid salads, leafy greens, or cut fruits
Avoid stews with meat or fish in gravy
Avoid meats in general, because proper refrigeration may be lacking
The Taj Mahal was a highly involved school project from the last year. Susmita got totally into it with the sugar cube building method. She built a fairly large (2×2 ft) replica of the most famous romantic mausoleum on the planet. I forget how many boxes of sugar cubes went into this construction, perhaps 2 kg. Card stock, plastic cups, foam balls, Christmas light decorations—it all turned out fabulous!
Then the Taj Mahal, as happens with many projects after presentation, sat on the work bench in the garage for the next six months. It was still beautiful, too nice to toss it out. What to do? We couldn’t keep it. So we found a creative way of deconstruction. We put the Taj Mahal in “acid rain” (symbolically, because our drinking water in Arizona seems to be fairly pH neutral). How long would a sugar Taj Mahal hold up in the sprinkler?
We recorded the experiment for you. Enjoy the show!
We made a creative experiment, but the erosion of the Taj Mahal is for real. See this Taj Mahal Case Study from India.
Aloo gobi, cauliflower with potatoes, is one of the most popular Indian dishes. Yet there are a gazillion variations of it. You can’t go wrong with aloo gobi. Just about everyone likes it. Even moviemaker Gurinder Chadha (Bend It Like Beckham) had a try at it. See the link at the bottom of the story.
My aloo gobi version is not yet Indian housewife approved. It is based on my sister-in-law’s excellent coaching and my very own desperate knack for convenience and “saving” dishes. I like to cook “all in one pot” and still be creative. Add mustard seed and hot chilies, you’ll get a southern flavor; spice it up with cumin and garam masala, definitely a northern note. Whatever you do, don’t add much water!
NOTE: My aloo gobi is a stir-fry-style recipe for a large wok or skillet. Be prepared and start about 60 minutes before mealtime. Here we go:
WASH & CUT VEGETABLES:
½ cauliflower, cut small rosettes/pieces
3 medium potatoes, small cubes (1 cm-1 inch)
3 tomatoes, diced
1 onion, diced small
1 inch ginger, grated or chopped small
3 cloves garlic, grated
SEAR THE SPICES: heat
2 Tbs. vegetable or olive oil in large wok on high, don’t burn; add
2 Tbs. channa dal (= lentils) to fry for 3 minutes (optional for “bite” and texture)
1 tsp. mustard seed to crackle and
1 tsp. cumin (jeera) to crackle
3 dried hot chili peppers to sauté
NOTE: You could start off with the traditional onion/chili/ginger paste as a base. Adding freshly chopped Serrano peppers or red pepper flakes in the middle of the process works just as well. I prefer to use small ginger pieces as “bursts of flavor”.
Cauliflower, potatoes, chili
Onions, turmeric, garlic
Tomatoes & salt
STIR-FRY PHASE: Lower heat to medium and add
• cauliflower pieces (longest to cook) and sauté 10-15 minutes
• potato pieces, sauté for another 10 minutes
• onions and ginger for 5 minutes
• garlic paste (2 min)
• 1 tsp. (½ tsp.) turmeric (haldi); stir until evenly distributed (3 min)
• tomatoes, stir until they start getting mushy (5 min)
• ½ tsp. garam masala (optional), stir-fry for 1 minute
• 1 tsp. salt to liking
• ¼ cup water (or none)
FINISHING PHASE:
Put the lid on the skillet/wok and let the aloo gobi simmer (ca. 15 min) so that the cauliflower is cooked but firm to the bite. Shuffle it once in a while. Taste for texture towards the end.
Let this cool off for 5 minutes and transfer to serving dish. Garnish your aloo gobi with chopped cilantro. Add a sprinkle of lemon. Bon appetite!
Can you guess the snap? I came across this picture amidst long forgotten snapshots. What the heck was I thinking or seeing? I strained my brain but without success. Later I scrolled down farther in my picture index and found the explanation.
What’s on the picture above? Guess the snap!
The best guess (or the first correct answer) wins this absolutely fantastic, romantic, original Indian miniature painting. I brought it from one of my journeys to Jaipur. The image is 3 x 5.25 inches and matted in an 8 x 10 white archival mat. Such a lovely romantic scene deserves your best guess.
Miniature paintings are a very old traditional art, originating during the Mughal period in the 17th century. Miniature paintings were used as book illustrations. Antique miniatures can be very valuable. This art is kept alive by very skilled art guilds. Often the paintings are rendered on antique book pages surrounded with Farsi script. Although small, the paintings contain an incredible amount of detail, symbolism, and cultural expression. They always draw me in because I am excited about little treasures.
This charming miniature painting with the prince and the maiden can be yours. Please send me your answer in the comment box below or by e-mail until by Monday 12 noon (May 19).
Do I ever stick to a recipe? Hardly. But the Assam Nariyal Dal from the Dhaba Cooking School, is so awesome that I would not change a thing. These lentils are a sheer delight of aromas for body and soul. The recipe was created by TAZ (Taz). Try it soon.
COOKING ADVICE: Have all ingredients handy and prepared. This dal cooks fairly quickly. Don’t burn your spices while you are scrambling to cut tomatoes.
—-STEP 1—-
2 cups red (Masoor Dal) lentils, picked & rinsed; set them to boil in 7 cups of water; reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes
Tomato paste
—-STEP 2: DWARKA—-Sauté (flavor-roast) next ingredients in pan on medium heat and little oil for 7-10 minutes; add this to the lentils
1/2 onion, diced, fry until glazed
1/2 inch ginger, grated into paste
4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1-3 whole, dried chilis
2 Tbs. sambhar masala (~ 3min)
2-4 Tbs. tomato paste (~ 3 min)
—-STEP 3—-Add the following ingredients to the lentils to complete the flavor
1 can unsweetened coconut milk (15 oz.)
4 Roma tomatoes, diced
1 lemon, juice & zest
1 Indian bay leaf (tej patta)
2 cinnamon sticks (2 inches long)
3 star anise pods
kosher salt & black pepper to taste
FINISHING: Cook the dal for another ~30 min or until lentils are soft. Adjust seasonings and remove the spice “drifters.” Serve hot with idli (rice cakes) or a rice dish. The aromas of Assam Dal are invigorating and inspiring. Your gourmet nose will enjoy the process too.
Poha is the name for flattened rice, or rice flakes. A poha (vegan) stir-fry makes for a tasty and nourishing breakfast. Have a couple of boiled potatoes and fresh cilantro ready. I liked this flavor mix at first bite. Maybe you will too.
A wok-ful of poha makes for a nutritious family breakfast
– – – – PREROAST
2 Tbsp cooking oil
1 tsp mustard seeds
½ cup of raw peanuts
– – – – MASALA
1 medium onion, diced
1 green hot chili, diced
1 tsp turmeric (haldi)
1 tsp amchoor (tangy mango powder)
1 tsp salt
1 Tbsp sugar
– – – – FINISH
2 medium boiled potatoes, diced
2 cups of poha, washed
Crasins add tangy sweet flavor bubbles
Optional:
1 handful craisins or cranberries
Garnish with:
green cilantro and a drizzle of lime
Indian housewives, hope you don’t mind, since I am a little lazy, I make Poha all in one large wok.
First, heat up the frying oil and add the mustard seeds. When they crackle, reduce the heat to medium light. Then throw in the peanuts and roast them toasty (5 min).
Add diced onion and pepper to the wok and stir-fry the masala until onions seem glazed. Now add the turmeric, amchoor, salt, and sugar while constantly stirring.
Throw in the diced (boiled) potatoes and stir regularly.
In a colander, wash the poha flakes, let them drip off, and stir the poha into the spicy masala. Shuffle poha well with masala and heat it all the way through. Add craisins, if you like.
Finally, drizzle juice of ½ lime over the dish and garnish with sprinkles of cilantro.
Poha breakfast makes for a good start in the morning. It’s not heavy on the stomach but provides a lot of energy. No objections from vegans either.
Teatime in India has its special ceremonies. Spiced tea, “chai,” is boiled, not brewed. Every family infuses its favorite aromas and has a protocol for making it.
My favorite cup of chai with milk cake
Chai has sometimes brought me back from the dead. No matter how tired I was from jetlag, this hot cup of brew revitalized me every time.
Chai time on the Indian continent is a time for bonding and celebration. Three Cups of Tea is the title of a book by Greg Mortenson about building schools in rural Afghanistan. Tea, in the predominantly illiterate society, had contractual power.
In the British movie comedy, East Is East, with Om Puri as strict Pakistani patriarch, tea plays an important role during marriage negotiations and fish & chip store breaks. The head of the family likes to show moderation by asking for “half a cup.”
My favorite spices in the chai
An Indian joke goes that if the lady of the house offers you “another cup of tea”, it is time to leave the party. However, hospitality usually overrules the ticking of the clock. So you might as well accept.
If somebody in India offers to make tea for you, their special kind, they want to spend time with you. Their cup of tea shows that they love you very much. So just sit back and enjoy.
For the longest time, I did not make chai. Why not? Simple. I wanted people to shower affection on me by making me a cup of love. But I also feared I’d make mistakes. Now since I learnt how, let me share some love with you.
Chai’s aromatic spices: cardamom, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, anis, peppercorn, star anise—and perhaps a mystery pinch of something else. Let’s make two mugs of chai. Here is how we proceed:
Measure 2 cups of water and set it to boil in saucepan. (It helps if the saucepan has beakers for pouring. Use a pan that is at least twice the quantity of tea.)
Add 2 crushed cardamom seeds, 1 inch cinnamon, one slice ginger, 1 clove, 5 anise seeds, maybe a pinch of black pepper—as the water heats up.
Add 2 tsp Taj Mahal tea leaves and 2 tsp sugar. Let this come to a boil.
Finally, add ¾ cup of milk and bring the chai twice to a boil again. WATCH IT! The milk might make the chai spill out. Lift the saucepan from the heating element before this happens, or lightly blow the foam down.
First the spices
then the tea leaves
then the milk
Now the tea is ready to pour into cups. Use a sieve to keep out the sediment. It is best to use a sauce pan with a beaker to avoid a mess.
Serve the tea with cookies, burfi, or chickpea snacks. Ready for a (re)treat? Take a chai time break! It is invigorating. Enjoy your tea time!
We bake tandoori chicken when we expect a lot of guests. This recipe has never failed us and saved us much time, trouble and money. Remember: marinate the meat a day before. This recipe is for 5 pounds chicken thighs and drumsticks, skin on.
Tandoori chicken is a party favorite and crowd pleaser. It is easy to make and tastes delicious. Here it is pictured with idlis and parathas.
For the marinade:
2 cups plain yogurt
2 inch grated ginger
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp + red chili
3 tsp Rajah tandoori spice mix
garam masala (optional)
juice of ½ lime or lemon
3 tsp salt
Prepare chicken pieces by trimming off excess fat pockets. In a large bowl, stir all the ingredients together for the yogurt marinade. The marinade will turn an orange color.
Rajah Tandoori Masala
Mix up the chicken well with the marinade so that everything gets covered. Let the chicken rest in refrigerator for at least 8 hours. Stir chicken pieces at least once.
Line two baking sheets with nonstick aluminum foil. Distribute the chicken pieces evenly over the baking sheets and bake on the middle/upper rack at 350 F for 60–75 minutes. Cooked on a grill, this chicken will taste even heartier. (Tandoori ovens are a little hard to come by.)
Serve the tandoori chicken with Basmati rice and yogurt rheita salad. Bon appetite!
Kerala is under communist leadership. From driving through the land, catching fleeting impressions with my tourist eyes, I thought that individuals, even the lowliest street hawkers, feel more like a part of society than any of us in the US of A. People in India know their roles, rights, and entitlements. Participation in the community in Kerala appeared to be much stronger than in the US, where half the population doesn’t even vote. We saw a communist rally march, noticed many campaign posters, and spotted numerous calls for recycling and other public service announcements.
A government can certainly make people feel as a part of the whole. Take for example the Periyar National Park and Tiger Reserve. Since its inception in 1982, the Periyar National Park has enrolled its local villagers as guardians of the preserve. That was a smart move, because now the locals have gained not only a source of income as guides and rangers, they have also dropped what one official brochure called “poaching.”
At the Gavi safari headquarters, at least a dozen guides met up with their tourists in small groups; breakfast and lunch provided at the cafeteria. Vijay, our guide who lives in the ecotourism village of Gavi, took us on a small hike from the ranger station to the top of one of the 18 hills in the park. All hikers had to wear gaiters up to the knee to protect us against leeches.
The hike was short but quite scenic. At the peak of the hill, Vijay directed our attention to the Sabarimala temple, nestled in the valley’s jungle. The famous sanctuary can only be reached on foot via a trail and nevertheless the temple attracts 10–15 million pilgrims annually, although it has restrictive opening seasons. A military station has been built next to it to watch over the ever increasing amount of gold in the sanctuary, as well as to monitor the religious fervor. Holy passions have a history of getting out of hand in a land of many faiths. Hinduism, Islam, and Christianity are all running their strong agendas.
At Periyar National Park, you can’t go hiking on your own. First of all, about 800 elephants live in the area. Although we saw plenty manure on the narrow road, we unfortunately didn’t spot an animal as such. Second, the park is home to an estimated 40 tigers and some hundred leopards, who may be looking for an easy meal. Third, there are few trails and, as anywhere in the wild, you could get lost and bitten by one of the 300 species of poisonous snakes. Dead tourists are no good advert. Bottom line: don’t go hiking without a ranger. Last but not least, tribals live in the forest too. And they also want to be left alone.
Vijay rowed us in a boat to the Gavi waterfall, which also provides the water for the ecotourism center. He pointed out various species of birds and spotted an orchid called Dancing Girl. 
He took us on a walk through the arboretum, where we learned about wild mango, chiku (sapodilla), guava, plantains, and allspice. He lit up 
the resin from the Boswellia serrata tree (frankincense). He was very knowledgeable and proud to share the natural beauties. His forebears may have been poachers, but Vijay now had become an advocate and protector for his paradise.
And there are lots of animals in it. We saw monkeys of several species, herds of gaur (bison), sambar (deer), mongoose, and birds of all kinds on an afternoon boat trip on Lake Periyar. And Vijay and the other rangers had a proud stake in all of this. They enjoyed protecting and sharing the forest at the same time. Of course, we missed out on the tigers, perhaps good so. And we also didn’t spot an elephant. But their droppings were plenty.
Kerala, like all of India, is densely populated. Nothing goes without collaboration because you depend on it. We eventually arrived at our final destination at Abad resort. Even the beach bum dogs of Marari Beach understand this. The packs of mutts wait patiently every morning for the fisher boats to return. The symbiosis between fishermen, dogs, and restaurant trash has deep roots.
In the old days, a whole house could be roofed with palm leaves. There is much reuse and recycle going on based on the scarcity of materials but also new inventions such as paper straws have made their way to market. In our resort, Abad Turtle Beach, three miniature bovines were kept on premises, not for milk but for lawn mowing, their manure serving to fertilize the vegetable garden.
The international group of doctors, most accompanied by their supportive spouses, retraced their college experience. They visited the various departments at GRMC campus, where college Dean Dr. R.K.S. Dhakar received the alumni in his conference room. The international group also chanced upon a dear colleague from the old days, Dr. Ranjna Tiwari, Professor of Community Health and expert sitar player.
During the course of two days, the medical professionals went down memory lane swapping stories of mischief and accomplishments. The city had changed a lot but eventually each alumnus sleuthed out their former abodes. The seven GRMC exes, who had been planning this joint outing for the last five years, bonded even more strongly over this exciting endeavor.
for 7-10 minutes; add this to the lentils
