Greenland Coconuts!!

 

It could be the fact, now we are living in Mohamed's family house as opposed to his guest house behind us, that has renewed his interest in this property or it could be the fact that now we are here he doesn't want to kill us but, after they appeared looking for work, two young looking boys have climbed the coconut trees and trimmed all the branches, dropping the coconuts to the floor while we hid in safety taking photos!!

Coconut trees can produce coconuts every two months and some people and resorts have their trees climbed every two months ensuring safe guests and a constant supply of coconut juice.

Our house, Mohamed's house, however, through no fault of his own, has not really been loved and cared for for the past three years and so the trees have also lost out.

Three years without a trim can lead to some seriously over grown trees bulging with over ripe coconuts that, when a good breeze blows in from the Arabian Sea, hit the ground with stone splitting force!

One solid looking tree is located just outside our back door... 

...not a problem as such as we have a kitchen door, side door and front door all of which are tree free!

While Hubby was working on the flat roof, he noticed just how many of this tree's coconuts were near to falling mode.

He reached for a big stick (doesn't everyone keep a big stick on their roof for hitting coconut trees?) and shouted instructions down to me not to come out of the back door for a moment and then proceeded to knock multiple coconuts out of the tree.

The first one to hit the ground just missed me as I stuck my head out of the back door to ask him to repeat whatever it was he was shouting about!

Ten further coconuts proceeded to hit the floor with alarming force as up on the flat roof Hubby played his own version of snooker with his big stick and the tree.

When Mohamed arrived for his evening chat we proudly showed him the ten coconuts all lined up on the floor outside the back door. He looked confused and asked how we had managed to collect so many coconuts as they tend to fall just one or two a day, three if the wind is strong.

Hubby is a large man (a very large man!) and informed our fabulous yet slightly gullible landlord that he had shaken the tree until they fell.

“No No!” Mohamed exclaimed alarmed,

“Too dangerous!” he tapped his head and looked most concerned.

“No problem!” Hubby returned “I put motorbike crash hat on, all safe.”

Mohamed relaxed a bit and looked carefully at Hubby.

“Really you do this?” he questioned.

As Hubby nodded enthusiastically I began to smile, a smile that was not lost on Mohamed.

“You show me!” he smiled at Hubby but Hubby smiled back.

“Too tired now, you come in morning I will show you!”

Hubby turned to walk back inside trying not to laugh.

“Really he do this?” Mohamed asked me.

“No Ji,” I could keep the joke going no longer.

“He use big stick on roof to hit coconuts down”

Mohamed began to laugh, Hubby returned to the door laughing too and together we gathered up the coconuts for our fabulous landlord to take home.

Since our arrival we have sort of taken on the duties of caretakers for both properties here.

Mohamed lives 1km away in his married family home, this being his parents married home before their passing a few years ago.

As guests come to enquire about rooms for rent at the back of our house during the day, I either call Mohamed or if they are just after information I give them the chat about prices, location benefits and facilities.

When two young boys

(to my 58 years anyone under forty is young and if you are under twenty you are a boy!)

walked down the newly paved driveway that leads to Mohamed's guest house and started looking around, I popped my head out of the back door and asked if I could help.

“Coconut cutting!” was the only English they had so I called Mohamed and tried to explain to him that there were Indian boys here,

“They want room?” he asked.

“No Ji, coconuts.”

Our conversation was getting lost in translation so I passed the phone to the boys so they could to talk to him.

A two minute rapid conversation flowed between everyone and eventually the phone was handed back to me.

“Boys will come tomorrow 8am to cut coconuts, Thank you.” the phone went dead.

I smiled at the boys, they nodded and smiled back. I was sure all would be explained during our evening chat with Mohamed so I returned to my sewing.

In the morning two boys dressed in smart shirts and jeans arrived by motorbike at the house. I called Mohamed as we needed him to be here to supervise, this was something that neither Hubby nor I had first hand knowledge but we were learning fast!

As they waited their shirts were pulled over their heads, lungis replaced their trousers and as Mohamed arrived they began to climb the trees.

Large machetes swung from their waists as they climbed a tree each.

As they reached the canopy they used their bare hands to rip away the dried and dead palm fronds, these were then dropped to the floor with loud crashes and plumes of dust.

If a frond was stubborn the machete was unslung and used, cutting through the stem with ease.

Once some of the palms were cleared the coconuts could be reached and with greenery crushing crashes the boys batted the coconuts out of the trees to the floor below directing their fall as best they could.

Coconuts bounce!

In fact coconuts seem to bounce quite well and as the first few hit the nice new driveway, that was only finished ten days ago, they ricocheted around as Mohamed looked on with concern.

“Boys not careful!” was all he would say as Hubby and myself headed to the safety of the covered flat roof to take photos.

Within minutes the tree was clear and the boys descended rapidly only to climb the next two trees that were even higher!

Within half an hour they had climbed all six trees, trimmed palm fronds and dropped coconuts all over the gardens.

Four fresh from the tree coconuts were expertly opened by our boys and handed out to Hubby, myself and the two guests staying in the home-stay.

A quick wash was taken beside the outside tap before their shirts were replaced, as were their jeans and they were gone.

50 rupees per tree plus a coconut each.

No safety equipment.

No equipment at all for that matter save a machete and a skill that was amazing to watch.

How does one learn to climb a coconut tree to the height of fifty foot as it sways in the breeze.

At what point do you decide yes you can now let go with one hand or even both hands as you wrap your leg around the trunk to pull at a stubborn palm front hanging from the tree.

As the boys drove away Mohamed and I looked at the driveway and gardens,

“I help you Ji” I reassured him as we began to drag the the brown and green palm fronds that now littered the flower beds and driveway to my burning pit.

Slowly we gathered the coconuts into piles, some would go home with Mohamed, others would be stored for now in the outside toilet.

“Three years Ji?” I questioned looking at the huge pile of coconuts and palm fronds as well as the nice and clear trees,

“Three years too long” Mohamed stated mater of factly.

I wondered if he said it out of awe at the amount of coconuts he now had or out of relief for of his guests who were now technically out of danger.

Rasi Manzil February 2019

 

Peter arrived in India via Thailand on February 2^nd 2019 and spent the first week at Rasi Manzil recovering from his Birthday Party!

Three weeks of party time with the boys had taken its toll!

I tidied the garden that, apart from a yearly garden clear after the rains, had been left to its own devices for the past few years, deciding and then changing my minds as to where things would go. 

A burning area was set up, compost-able stuff was raked against the front wall and the daily sweep of leaves added.

Nothing much was going to happen garden wise until we moved in properly in October so apart from keeping it clean I left it to fend for itself and concentrated on the house.

The Rasi Manzil is an amazing house.

We have a spacious front porch that leads to the front room where Joe's two wooden sofas a plus a spare bed from the middle bedroom provide plenty of sitting and chilling space.

Off the lounge we have a double bedroom with its own bathroom which for now is our spare room.

From the lounge you walk into the dining room in the middle of the house. 

This room has not only a sink to wash your hands but also a door way to the garden.

The dinning room contains the doorway to what has become our bed room. 

This room also has its own bathroom plus Joe's double bed and a single bed … the other single bed that belongs to the house is in the front room.

The bathroom is more of a wet room.

.....loo paper is not needed in India as every toilet comes with a jet wash …

left hand for washing, 

right hand for eating takes on a whole new meaning 

but once you get used to it, it is amazing!

From the dining room you walk out into the back room which I have claimed as my work space.

A doorway from the sewing room leads to the kitchen which is HUGE!!

 It even has a chimney!!

(...but I forgot to take a photo so you can only see the doorway lol)

I treated myself to a new cooker from a lovely man who works out of a tiny shop 8 foot x 10 foot while Mohamed arranged for a gas bottle to be delivered 

.......but in all honesty apart from Peters coffee it didn't get used much as eating out is so incredibly cheap.

A full Thali meal costs us 70p, Masala Dosha is 50p ….. breakfast is usually taken at the train station where idli, coconut chutney, samba with a vada and chai costs 75p for the two of us!!!

Catriona called to see how we were doing and mentioned her friend had just finished a 200 hour yoga teacher training course and would I like to attend the final practical exam.

I jumped at the chance and was delighted to discover the yoga school was always looking for bodies for their students to practice their teaching on.

I signed up straight after the exam and was soon called to attend almost daily classes .....

......all for free ...

...... and with such a diversity of teachers!!!!

Peter began work the roof …..

which had thankfully been cleared of all the furniture stored there

….... grinding and cleaning the uprights ready to fix and paint.

Each day as the sun got too hot to work he would retire to the day bed while I lost myself in the sewing room and its growing piles of fabric.

Garlands now adorned the tops of all of the doorways, longer ones hung and swayed in the breeze.

I hung the dream catcher

and flower hammock and looked at the huge pile of fabric.

I needed a new idea.

I am not sure how the first picture came into being ….

....... it was more of an experiment than a plan as such …..

....... but the end result was great.

The second picture had a more definite plan …..

fabrics were thrown across a backing piece, mixed and matched until I had a rough idea of where I was heading …. 

then I jut added layers …

 layer after layer until i felt it looked right!

........but this a story that must wait for another day …...

Scrap Fabric and more!

 

It has been a long time since I last wrote a blog … life in general has been busy, the world has changed in ways I could never have fore seen and a lot has changed in my life.

Over the years my Blog has changed in writing style as I grew and learnt new things each year but The Adventures of Kerriann was primarily written in a sort of diary format. A way for me to look back over my various adventures in chronological order as I reached old age and my mind begins to mix the years, countries and experiences. 

It was also written to hopefully inspire others to live outside the boundaries we place upon ourselves. If I could do it with limited finances and training so could anyone else and so I am going to endeavour to fill in the blanks of the last two and a half years....

In December 2018, armed with my new mantra, (see previous Blog) Peter's motor bike (as Peter was now back in the UK), over 20kg of accumulated belongings, including my sewing machine, I moved out of the house with the garden in South Cliff leaving them in charge of my growing lufas and into Steve and Emma's old flat at Borneo Mukk, Varkala.

The rent was paid until February, they were happily living in the house over at South Cliff so I had the whole place to myself!!

I had no responsibilities, no commitments, no one to look after or worry about … it was just me!

As no one had been staying in the flat for the past few months a fine layer of dust had settled through out so the first job was to clean everything!

It is only a small flat, two bedrooms, a living area, kitchen area and bathroom but it was all mine to do with whatever I pleased.

Happy with the cleaned results and having settled my belongings into the various rooms I headed down to see the Tailor man and pick up my first big bag of scrap fabrics.

Each time one of the transient tourists ordered a made to measure garment, the remaining scraps of fabric were bundled into a bag at the back of his shop. Once full this fabric was taken away to be burnt!!

BURNT!!!

They actually had to PAY some one to take it away! 

Scraps of silk, polyesters mixes, rayon and cottons of the most vivid colours were burnt to ash to make way for the next bundle of scrap fabric that accumulated weekly during the high season.

That was until I found out and offered to take anything and everything away for free!

I returned to the flat with my backpack crammed and set to work sorting my new treasure.

Soon the floor of the lounge disappeared under my spreading hoard and this was only the first load!!

I gazed in wonder at the fabulous colours and wondered what to make first!!

Where DO ideas come from?

Imagination?

Past experiences?

Universal influence?

In Polynesia, when you arrive, you are given a garland of flowers to welcome you onto the island. 

The garland of course shrivels and dies but while you remain in this paradise you will see the same flowers everywhere you go and if you want, you can get another garland any time you wish.

But when you leave the island, you are given a garland of shells. The shells will last forever, a tiny piece of paradise to keep with you.

In India too garlands of flowers are given as a gift, a blessing, a reminder of the beauty that surrounds you.

I looked at the piles of fabric …. what if you could have a garland of India's colours to keep forever?

I Googled fabric garlands, scrolled my way through YouTube and then began work.

Strips were cut and ripped.

Knots were tied and cut.

As the knots accumulated they were placed into sweet like piles around the room …

....... tiny pyramids of colour that needed to be re sorted every time a big gust of wind blew through the open windows.

When the pyramids grew large enough I would lay out symmetrical designs in long strips, mixing the colours until I liked what I saw.

Seven knots of each colours were set out in tiny groups along the floor, with experimentation this later moved to ten.

Tassels were made for the centre and then armed with my trusted tipi sewing needle and strong fishing thread I began to sew.

Running the needle through each knot I worked my way to the centre, threaded the tassel on and then progressed along the symmetrical colours of other side.

Garland after garland was made.

They soon draped every window,

 hung from every door

and still the fabric kept coming!!

When I had filled the flat I gave them to friends. I made them for the yoga hall, I made them for strangers,

I made them for the lovely lady in the shop I walked past each day as I collected more and more fabric from the Tailor man.

I made shopping bags,

stuffed bean bags with cotton scraps,

then I made a sunflower!!

By sewing two edges of a rectangle together to make a square and then turning it inside out I could gather the two remaining sides into something that resembled a petal.

These I sewed by hand onto a circular base before covering the centre with another circle.

I made more flowers making smaller and smaller squares as I neared the centre even filling some totally with petals.

When I had too many flowers I made them into a wall hanging using a broken hammock...

..... that took two days of pain staking hours to de-knot.

From the carefully de-knotted surplus of hammock string I made a dream catcher covering an old bicycle wheel …

..... which allows great spacing as the holes are already in the rim!

and still the fabric kept coming!

Ramesh and Balu lived in the flat below Steves and I shared their big fully stocked (with pans, cooker and fridge) kitchen.

My kitchen upstairs had no cooker so was more of a salad and fruit preparation area!

When the boys went home to Tamil Nadu for Pongal I had the chance to clean not only the kitchen

(It took TWO days to defrost the fridge and that is in INDIA!!!)

but also the balcony and rooms until they shone.

I opened up Balu's shop each day happily sewing flowers and carrying home yet more fabric.

When the boys came back I continued my yoga with Ramesh.

And so my life fell into a fabulous routine of swimming, sewing, yoga,

helping in Balu's shop and collecting fabric.

As the season progressed the fabric pieces got bigger and bigger until I had one full bag of pieces too nice to be ripped into strips.

I sent a parcel to Singapore for the dressing up box and stored away the rest until an idea presented itself.

.......and then I started to draw mandalas....

lots of mandalas!!

I set up a chill out area in Steve and Emma's room where I could look out of the balcony door onto outside world and each afternoon, as the sun made it too hot to sew, I would draw.

In the end I drew nearly as many mandalas as I made garlands.

but I wont bore you with them all!!

In the mean time Peter and I had been talking about our new house. 

The roof ideally needed fixing before the next rainy season but Mohamed’s friend was using the place and fixing the roof would be noisy.

 We also needed a place to live once Peter came back in February.

 I briefly thought about staying on at Steve's place but then a new plan presented itself.

I met up with Mohamed to ask if we could fix the roof before the rains. 

He said he would talk to his friend and before we knew it the friend had offered to move out for 2 months while we moved in to do the work!!

On January 29^th 2019 Rasi Manzil was vacated and at 12 noon I headed down from the flat to clean while Mohamed supervised the cleaning of the well 

(all our water comes from the outside well).

Now I can clean and I also have energy levels that leave most people standing but 7 hours of solid back scrubbing work later I still felt I was only half way through.

Mohamed however was amazed at the transformation. 

Windows had been opened, walls had been washed, floors had been swept, scrubbed, mopped and washed again this time on my hands and knees. 

The fridge had been stripped, soaked, washed and reassembled plus light bulbs had been changed.

I had originally planned to move in the next day, January 30^th which would give me the 31^st to clean Steve's flat before I handed the keys back to the landlord but as I looked at the cleaned house I asked Mohamed if I could move my stuff in that night.

Mohamed happily agreed and gave me the keys.

Despite my tired state I returned to flat and packed the last of my belongings including the now ripened and dried lufa!!

I called Sandheev (my faithful rickshaw driver and 2 years later very good friend) to move my cases and the heavy stuff while I loaded the bike with the rest, including my clothing rail that I carried upside down and over my head in true Indian style.

That night I slept the sleep of the dead as exhaustion and excitement over took me.

I had done it.

I had my own house in India.

Tomorrow I would clean again and then probably again before I went to clean the flat but for now I would sleep.

I would sleep in my own house in India.

The opening words of the film Out Of Africa came to me …. 'I had a farm in Africa, at the foot of the Ngong Hills'

….well I now had a Home in India, 300 steps from the Arabian Sea!