We got a call at around 9 that our taxis was here. At least, that is what I thought the person said. In actuality, they were telling us that breakfast was being served and were we coming down. We thought that was odd, but now know that it is an Indian thing to alert guests to the free brekkies, especially if it is getting close to shutting down breakfast time.
I know I am being redundant when I say that Indian breakfasts are really wonderful. The variety of textures and flavors is remarkable. You can go savory or sweet, crunchy or soft, fruit or veg, or a seemingly infinite variety.
We watched a little telly before our driver arrived to take us to our next adventure, Pondicherry. Mamallapurum was a sleepy, drowsy town with a mixture of backpackers, surfers, older tourists, and Indian families. Pondy has some of the same vibes but without the grunge factor of wandering cows, street dogs and trash. I could almost imagine spending a long time here, as long as the weather wasn’t too hot. While the temperature is in the 80’s, it just seems to suck the life out of me. I am exhausted by the end of the afternoon and crave a lie down. I’m not sure why, but Ms. Cranky gets involved as well.
After settling into our new digs, we went for a wander down the water front in the later afternoon. The city closes the street and promenade to traffic after 4 pm. We found the Pondy food festival. It was the last day. There were food stands set up on both sides of a long rectangle with a stage at the far shorter end. We browsed the food stands, much of it not too appealing, but wandered into a exhibition hall and stumbled onto OVOID architecture. The work was really amazing. Carbon neutral, thoughtful, visually interesting, well laid out, quite beautiful to boot! One of the partners, sadly we did not get his name, gave us the VIP tour of their posted designs and book of designs and plans.
By now it has become dark, and the real exciting stuff begins. There is a section of the festival that is called “Beach Market”. We head down there and it is all sorts of snacks that one would purchase at the beach, bel puri, little samosas, roasted corn, sugar cane juice, ice cream, sweet corn kernals in a little cup, etc. We got some ice cream and were leaving the market when a man stopped us and asked where we were from. We ended up in a long conversation with him covering diverse topics as American geography, government, Trump, and Andrew Cuomo! He told us that his sister was a ceramicist and getting another degree at Alfred University. He found us again in the crowd to introduce us to his wife and daughter. Very sweet.
We hear the loud speakers blaring traditional music and see young dancers lining up to perform. There were several young girls of varying sizes and 1 lone boy. There was live music accompaniment; a male drummer, a female vocalist, a male playing a stringed instrument doubling the vocal line and another female who was playing a percussive role and giving vocal cues to the dancers. The young boy was mesmerizing. He had the less precise hand movements than the girls, but he really had the “looks” that went with whatever was the story line of the dance. He would turn his head and open his eyes up really wide and bobble his head and then pull the corners of his mouth
down really far into an exaggerated frown, only to pop back into the wide eyed god-being he was depicting. Delightful.
As we are leaving we hear a brass band playing; sounding like a variation of a New Orleans funerary procession. This is where I realized that my camera was no longer taking pictures at all. Insert frowny face here.
Oh, I forgot, we booked (or tried to book, don’t know the outcome yet, as of this writing), a cooking class for Tuesday 1/30. I did receive an email stating that they got my request, but as of yet no confirmation that we are in.
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