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Young and old alike lose themselves in the ferry journey

What hasn't been said about Kerala? It is one of the easiest places in India to write about, partly because we know it's supposed to be. In various publications within India and even abroad, we see the solitary beautiful woman gracefully poised on a locally handcrafted vessel floating down a particularly striking area of the backwaters. And when talking about touring India, who hasn't given this travel advice: "Yes, you MUST visit Kerala; it's beautiful...well, no I haven't gone, but it's so green!" Particulars unique to the state are mentioned like literacy rates, rich history, and the comparably healthy environment for the arts-leaving travel articles little scope for negativity. Here also, I'll risk the irritation of some Indians who may plead that I look just a little deeper instead of focusing only on the pretty things I saw while in Kerala. But really, how can you have anything against a place where you can eat a freshly fried banana with vanilla ice cream?

And it's true: this state really does have a rich and unique history. Kerala's shores have received Roman, Phoenician, Arab, Chinese, Dutch, Portuguese, and English traders, among others. It has been a center for the tea, silk, and spice trades for centuries. And Kerala's natural environment is one so strikingly beautiful that it simply draws people in and puts them at ease. Whether you are wandering around Jewtown in Cochin, cruising thorough the backwaters, or just wondering how leaves can grow That Big, it is hard not to be a little romantic and wonder how things were 100, 500, or even 1,000 years ago-some nostalgia for a time unknown to us lingers in the air.

I will be honest-we visited Kerala quickly, just to see where the lady in the state's tourism ads had her picture taken. Enveloped in the low fog of Kodaicanal, Tamil Nadu, we crossed into Kerala via the Western Ghats and went directly to Munnar, a hill station where most people are directly linked to Tata Tea and tourism.

We arrived at night and our nervous taxi driver hoped to avoid any herd of elephants that may be passing through the thick mist of the Western Ghats-luckily they had stayed away from the main road that night. Since it was dark when we arrived, we were able to appreciate only the chill and freshness of the air-it wasn't until the next morning when we really saw Munnar. From our feet until the horizon, we saw tea gardens emulating a young girl's hair that has been combed and parted into sections. Under the sun, the colors of younger and more mature leaves mix and result in a rainbow of greens; bright flowers look twice as bright in this sea of yellow-green. Tea pickers with baskets on their backs wind their way through narrow paths in the tea fields and friendly children play cricket on the way down to the road below. We enjoyed ourselves simply walking on the paths winding through the tea fields and cardamom plantations. Munnar isn't a place that has lots to Do-there are just many things that Are. There Are sandalwood forests, wildlife, tea gardens, spice plantations, lots of Beautiful Views, and the like. As a visitor, we are only there to drift in different areas and lose ourselves, be it for a few days or a few years.

After we reluctantly left Munnar, I knew I couldn't leave Kerala without having traveled down the famous backwaters. We started by taking a government ferry from Kottayam, a city with the Western Ghats on one side and the backwaters on the other. Leaving from the waterside at Kottayam's dock, we cruised down a narrow canal, which would have only accommodated two boats of the ferry's width. With each minute on the water, signs of Kottayam's development receded into the past as vegetation on each side of the canal grew thicker. Small houses through which cool breezes blew through shelter people whose lives revolve around these waterways that we see only as tourists.

From our perspective in the ferry, we observed a green house, a faded blue one, a white one, slowly glide by. Front "yards" had no driveway or fence, no sidewalk; just a simple path from the door, directly to the waterside. Steps descend down into the water below to receive boats that glide up to them, just as most of us welcome cars to our front doors. In some ways, I had the feeling we were seeing their backyards; that this canal was their secret. But of course it is their front yard-their window to the world.

Kids swim in the waters as hand crafted boats laden with cement powder carefully slide by so as to avert any water entering their boats to render the cement useless. Men with tall bamboo sticks push off the river bottom to move their vessels through the light currents as women with strong arms paddle their way back home from a neighboring locale. Young girls fish as cats cautiously await their catch and hope that the generosity of the fish-catcher will provide them with their lunch. From the ferry we sometimes saw smaller water passages that snaked liquid paths from the main canal into the dense forest beyond. Only small manual vessels would be able to work their way there, and even the tempting glimpse of that other world sparked our imaginations.

After some time, the canal gradually widened as the canal opened up to Vembanad Lake. Bright yellow-green rice fields extend for miles in both directions and brightly dressed workers walk along work paths to get from place to place. A couple of hours after being engrossed by the scenery, we arrived in the port town of Alappuzha. There, we spent a day exploring the city's layout, crossing canals and footbridges, and the next day we took the boat from Alappuza to Kollam. The ride is about 8 hours and the scenery is mostly of wider passages of water not quite out in the Arabian Sea. Here there are strips of land where villagers spin coir from coconut fiber, tens of huge Chinese fishing nets built in two neat rows, a variety of graceful birds, ponds full of lotus flowers, and plenty of time to do nothing but relax. Just after sunset the boat pulls into the city of Kollam.

In Kollam, we took advantage of a tour of the Monroe Islands in Ashtamudi Lake. We stepped into a small craft with two boatmen who took four of us through the winding paths and canals that unavoidably carve their way through any small piece of land in the area. For three hours, we slowed ourselves to the pace of the waters as we slid through narrow lanes, frequently ducking under low bridges, and tree branches. Gloriously huge Hibiscus flowers weighed their stems down as we passed fish farms, villagers constructing houses, and children curiously peeping out from behind their mother's bodies. We drifted out into the lake for some time as well and the complexity of the maze of water lanes existing in the area quickly became evident.

The backwaters and hills of Kerala are indeed very green and beautiful. But even the most beautiful of places do not escape problems. The way we treat our environment is pitiable almost everywhere humans are found, but maybe because one especially appreciates nature here, its degradation is all the more lamentable. On the whole, locals and tourists alike treat the water as open-air bathrooms and trash dumps. Since pollution of water is not as immediately as visible as land pollution, waterways here receive especially cruel treatment. Boats dump old oil, chemicals and old machinery into the water, as if it would disappear into some abyss. An image I will always remember is when I looked over a bridge into a canal in Allapuza (the tourism department likes to compare it to Venice) and seeing the reflection of the clear moon below-not in the lovely clear water it once was, but instead in a body of oily mess which had long before stained the rocks on its banks black. What to do but be thankful that the real moon is so far away from most humans?

But this is a travel article so I'll end on a positive note: Kerala is Beautiful, and it's Green! (for now, anyway...)

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