India: Kerala #2: Jew Street, Jew Town

So there we were, on our second day in town, walking down Jew Street (yes, Jew Street!) when we came to Muslim Street. Obviously I had to turn, but Son just didn't get it and asked "Why? There's nothing down there." But, like I said to her, how many people in this world get a chance to walk down Jew Street and then hang a right and head on up Muslim Street?

There are, by the way, no Jews on Jew Street anymore; the few who remain in Kochi are now elsewhere, such as across the water over in Jew Town in Fort Kochi. More about them, and there, later.

As I said, it was our second day in town and to get a feel for the place we walked all around Ernakulam, the center of Greater Kochi and the place where our hotel was located. Ernakulam definitely isn't as nice as over in Fort Kochi, but staying there turned out to be perfect for us. It was a Sunday and just about every shop in town was closed, which was different from every other place we'd been in India up to that point. In other places only about half of the shops closed on Sundays. So, after our historic walk down the nearly-completely-deserted Jew and Muslim Streets we headed down by the sea where there's a long promenade with benches and trees (providing the all-important shade from the afternoon sun). It was so nice there that I ended up sitting and reading for about 3 hours.

After about 2 hours or so Son went to grab a bite to eat and 3 seminary students, all studying to become Franciscan priests, came and sat down next to me and introduced themselves. They just wanted to talk. And they were all quite friendly. This was my first introduction to Kerala's large Christian population, which makes up a quarter of the state's population and a much higher percentage of Kochi's. These young guys were all in their sixth year of studies at the seminary... with 4 more to go. They told me that after they've completed their 10 years of studies they'll be sent overseas to do missionary work. This struck me as rather strange. Generally speaking, there's quite a strong bitterness in India towards foreign missionaries who come to the country to try and convert people. So why, I wondered (to myself), would the church send local Indian Christians overseas to do missionary work rather than have them do it in India? Very strange indeed.

Later that evening we returned to the same walkway next to the bay and walked along through the crowds while watching the sunset. It was really nice down there: a long, and wide, pedestrians-only walkway that runs for about a km or so next to the water, with benches, trees and even some grass planted as well. Aside from the garbage, there was only one problem: the stench! The air in certain places there was simply sickening - completely disgusting and putrid! Where we had been sitting earlier in the day was fine, but further down, closer to the jetty docks, it smelled just like raw sewage - which is exactly what it was! The Sewage River/Canal flows right into the ocean and the stench was simply overpowering. However, the locals didn't seem to mind; many of them were sitting on the Bridge Over Putrid Waters enjoying themselves - and their ice creams - oblivious to the smell. Maybe that's what they think the ocean smells like? "Ah, the sweet smell of the sea at sunset."

And why can't the government clean the rivers and canals BEFORE the serious outbreaks of dengue fever begin? Oh, that's right (I'm sure you remember), they need the money for more important things; things that will be of more benefit to all Indian people; things like... going to the moon.

The next day we took the old wood jetty (or ferry) across the bay to Fort Kochi (situated at the end of a long peninsula), a 15 to 20-minute trip in a boat carrying around 75 - 100 people. Fort Kochi was simply a great place to walk around. Peaceful and quiet, with few cars; lots of trees - very green. And just about every building over there looked at least 100 years old: old homes, old shops, old warehouses, old churches, old temples, old mosques and even an old - 350-year old - synagogue. For the most part we're talking old as in nice, classy, antique old; not decrepit, falling-down, ugly old.

We saw the synagogue only from the outside that afternoon, as it was closed for the day. We also saw a VERY old house - now abandoned - with a giant star of David carved in stone atop the roof. In fact it was a bit weird around there seeing stars of David side by side with swastikas. The swastikas are, of course, ancient Hindu, and not Nazi, symbols; but, still, it did feel a bit strange. All this was in the officially-named Jewtown, inside Fort Kochi. There are, we were told, only 6 Jewish families left in Kochi, from a once thriving community that numbered as many as 4,000 at one point. We went into one Jewish-run shop near the synagogue for an interesting talk with the friendly elderly couple who owned the place.

The interesting thing about Kochi - not just Fort Kochi - is its large Christian, Muslim and Hindu (and 6-family Jewish) communities all living side by side peacefully and apparently quite happily. In much of the country this simply isn't the case. Walking through the streets and alleys we saw Muslims living next door to Hindus, living next door to Christians. It's often not that hard to tell people apart due to the crucifixes they're wearing (or they have hanging above their doorways), their Muslim dress, or Hindu dress with tika on their foreheads (though these could be Christians as well in India), etc.

We returned to our hotel that night feeling pretty wiped out - but quite satisfied - after a long day of walking all over Fort Kochi (where, I should mention, there's no longer any fort). We'd be returning on the jetty again... and again... and again over the coming weeks and months. It would become a pretty special place for both of us.

Our hotel, by the way, was great - especially for only $5 a night. We had a private bathroom, a big TV with all the English movie, sport and news channels and big windows on two sides of the room. A desk with a chair and a baby gecko too. The hotel was just 100 meters back from the water and we could see the sea out the window. All quite nice, especially for a long stay in town. There was one problem, however; and that was the mosque located 3 buildings away, which would, as mosques tend to do, blare out its call to prayers at 5 AM each morning, as well as 4 other not-quite-as-annoying times a day. The loudspeaker was aimed right at our window and it was, true to its name, very loud! Yet, believe it or not, we never once heeded its call.

Mike Cowie
Wednesday, June 23rd, 2004