LETTER FROM LONDON: ‘Snooty Ooty’ —Irfan Husain
One of the discoveries of my current trip to South India is how completely integrated the followers of different faiths are into the regional culture and ethos. Habib, our rickshaw driver, said in broken Hindi and English that everybody lived together like ‘bhai-bhai’. For Muslims in this part of India, at least, the ‘Two-Nation Theory’ must remain a bit of a mystery
It was a long, winding and sharply rising road to Ooty (or a Ootycomund, to give it its formal name) from Mysore. At 7,000 feet, it is the most popular hill resort in South India, and while nowhere as cold as Nathiagali, especially at this time of the year, it was still nice to have a log fire in our room.
Now full of local and foreign tourists, the town was known until relatively recently as ‘Snooty Ooty’ where gora sahibs and their begums, as well as rich Indians, would spend the hot summer months. The Ooty Club is a relic of those days with its enormous, wood-panelled ballroom, bars and dining room. Its main claim to fame is that this is where the game of snooker was invented and its rules codified. Hunting on horseback is still popular with the greying set, but the animal chased is not the fox, but the wild dog (or geedur).
Predictably, dinner there was a mediocre version of colonial Indian food. Apart from our group, only one table was occupied; clearly, this was not where Ooty’s foodies gather. But even in the gloom and the sombre formality of the place, I could imagine its glitter and pomp when it was in its heyday.
On the road again the next morning for another 8-hour drive to Cochin, or Kochi to give it its historical name. This is Kerala’s most ancient city, its history going back to 60 BC when Jewish refugees fled here as Jerusalem was conquered by the Persians. They were followed by Phoenician, Arab, Chinese, Italian, Portuguese, Dutch and British traders. Today, the early European influence is very marked. In fact, this is where some of the earliest Muslim visitors to India established a colony.
Cochin is a city of islands connected to the mainland, and to each other, by bridges and ferries. The streets are a riot of colour with women wearing gorgeous saris, and the men in multi-hued lungis. A far cry from Pakistani streets and their monochromatic hues. The foreign tourists look drab by contrast in their uniform of jeans and T-shirts.
Kerala has long been known for its spices, and this is what first drew foreign traders to its shores. Even now, its hinterland is a bountiful producer of wonderful peppercorns, chillies, and a host of other spices that provide flavour and colour to dishes around the world. Last night I had a splendid duck with a medley of spices that gave the bird a depth of flavour that I had never experienced before. Today’s prawns fried in the Kerala style were simple but delicious. I asked for the recipe, but I suspect that it will not be easy to replicate without the sweet local red chillies.
One of the discoveries of my current trip to South India is how completely integrated the followers of different faiths are into the regional culture and ethos. Hindus, Muslims and Christians live in harmony, with temples, churches and mosques co-existing side by side. Habib, our rickshaw driver these last two days, said in broken Hindi and English that everybody lived together like bhai-bhai. For Muslims in this part of India, at least, the ‘Two-Nation Theory’ must remain a bit of a mystery.
After the bleak and dreary vistas of Karachi and its environs, the lush greenery in Karnataka and Kerala has been a refreshing change. Ancient banyan trees provide shade along the roadside, and a profusion of tropical vegetation is everywhere.
Despite being close to Kollam (or Quillon) where the recent tsunami killed a number of fishermen, we have not seen any evidence of the disaster. Although the government-inspired scare stopped ferries for a couple of hours yesterday, nobody has mentioned the recent horror to us. It is business as usual as hotels are packed and restaurants are doing roaring business.
The most interesting part of the city is Fort Kochi where much of the architecture is Dutch, with thick white-washed walls and sloping red-tile roofs. There is not much traffic here, and no crowds typical of Indian cities. A large number of small art galleries and boutiques give this old quarter a very European air. The Kashi Art Café serves excellent coffee, and a wicked homemade chocolate cake.
We are staying at the Bolgatty Palace, which was a Dutch governor’s palace in the 16th century, but after changing hands several times, fell into disrepair. Recently renovated by the state government, it is a reasonably priced and fairly comfortable establishment connected to the mainland by a ferry service. Its phone lines are not always reliable, and its buffet meals to be avoided, but all in all, it is good value for money. And to warn friends who might think of coming to stay here, it does not have a licence to sell spirits. Apparently the state charges Rs 1.8 million for the permit. At the current exchange rate, that’s about Rs 2.5 million Pakistani rupees.
Tomorrow we are off to Kollam, and your faithful correspondent will keep detailed notes of his observations.
The writer is a freelance columnist
http://www.dailytimes.com.pk/default.asp?page=story_3-1-2005_pg3_3