And then there were two

I have admittedly been postponing writing this blog because I wanted to continue as I began...painting an idyllic scene of life on the road. However it was not to be. Firstly I am ill, nothing tropical or exotic...malaria or dysentery would give me a good story to tell...just a bloody chest infection. I am managing though, aided by the liberal dispensary practices of the Indian pharmaceutical profession. The more grave news is the fact that I indeed had a small kitten named Nyla who unfortunately did not manage to last the week.

Nyla was left at my door wrapped in a plastic bag one morning last week and I was awoken by the sound of the small kitten crying. Not usually moved by the idea of small furry animals I wasn't necessarily keen about having to look after somethingl not much older than a week and fundamentally in need of her mother. However, as everyone else flatly refused to take her and as it became clear that she was already being eyed up by a flock of predatory crows, it fell to me to adopt an orphaned kitten.


So I have consequently spent most of the week, doing what I least expected to do during my time in India....attempting to raise a kitten. Completely ignorant of what to do, I will even admit to googling "How to raise an orphaned kitten" and could be found scouring the local pharmacy for syringes to feed this tiny cat. Unfortunately these efforts were in vain...and it didn't necessarily come as a surprise, the reality of life here is somewhat brutal. Nyla who had just gained enough confidence to walk about the garden herself was attacked by a rat and killed. Somewhat saddened by it, but consoled by the fact that I actually did enjoy the company of this baby kitten for a week.

Moving on, it is now time for me to move on from Kerala. Kollam has been an adventure and I appreciate the fact that I have been able to come down to a part of rural Kerala and witness Indian life firsthand. It is a chaotic mixture of things that for a non-Indian would take a lifetime to make sense of. I am now at the point where I have learnt  as much as I can without having the traverse the language barrier. But I am prevented from fully understanding the daily intricacies of people's lives since I lack that crucial insight into their daily conversations.

What I have found so far though is an incredible generosity of spirit. I was pleased to have Eamonn McCafferty staying with us for a few nights, and we were spontaneously invited to another local wedding, this time Catholic, so a non-veg wedding reception and I was found indulging in at least my 3rd of 4th portion of chicken curry.. Similarly my neighbours have been keen to invite me to lunch on numerous occasions where you get to sample real Keralan food, home-cooked by Keralan wives.

Mr Sebastian and his band of merry (hardened) drinkers

But the height of the week was the spontaeneous invitation on a booze cruise (so to speak) with Mr Sebatiasn and friends. Sunday still termed a "Holyday" by Catholics, seems an effective excuse for a day at the local bar. The one thing the British did not leave behind was any replica of our pub culture. Drinking is not as socially acceptable here and instead the men congregate in one or two small, dark bars scattered around town. Neither exists the concept of social drinking...these were men on a mission. Two bottles of brandy between five of us, continuous rounds for 45mins then straight out the door again as everyone retired to their individual homes to indulge in their drunken stupor. Insightful....but I prefer the pub.

Right, with a month left in India I am hitting the road again to chase the sun further North. The second monsoon has arrived from the Bay of Bengla and am not to keen on the torrential downpours that begins circa 3pm each day. Back in London on 1st Dec for a brief stop, looking forward to seeing those about. All the Best.