Vacation Photos I Took, and Ones I Didn’t Take
We’ve just had our first vacation in India! My husband and I took two weeks off to celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary and to get a break from the cold weather. We traveled in Kerala, on the southwest coast of India- a warm, tropical area known for its sun, coconuts, and friendly people.
We took lots of photos, including this one of me in my vacation clothes at the Cochin train station. 
We traveled by train twice, and enjoyed getting to know the Indian railroad just a bit. We were impressed by comfortable seats and air-conditioned cars, and the chicken biryani and chai we bought from a vendor were delicious.
We’ll look at our photos in the days and years to come as we remember this trip and the adventures we had together. But some of my special memories are of the photos I didn’t take. As we sat in the train, I found my fellow passengers every bit as interesting as the scenery outside our window, which consisted mainly of acre after acre of coconut palms! Across the aisle and facing us were three middle-aged men, all wearing glasses, pastel-colored shirts, and mustaches. They all fell asleep, and at one point their heads were all lolling over in the same direction as the train rocked along the track. Across from them sat a sliver-haired granny in an elegant silk sari, checking email on her ipad. Directly across the aisle from me a young couple, arms entwined, sat as close to each other as possible, talking and giggling in hushed tones. They were both in jeans and T-shirts, but the elaborate henna tattoos on her arms and hands identified the young woman as a new bride. A grandfather passed us several times, walking up and down the aisle with a fussy toddler in his arms. And of course there was the usual complement of teens with earbuds attached to their phones, texting and twittering as the train rumbled through the countryside. The train car was a slice of India, one that will live in my memory even without a photo to post.
Probably my favorite part of our trip was the time we spent at a small beach house near Kannur. It was “at the end of the road,” and there was little to do there but sit and watch the waves, swim, walk on the beach, and sit and watch the waves some more. At least at this time of year the Arabian Sea is calm and warm. It’s hard to imagine a more peaceful and relaxing spot; I find that there’s something about the vastness of the ocean that puts my day-to-day challenges into healthy perspective.
Some of the memorable pictures I didn’t take were of the public buses that we saw on the highways. It seemed that each of Kerala’s buses was painted with a different tropical scene—we saw fish, colorful birds and animals, and bright flowers rendered in warm pastels on the sides of buses. Even though some of them almost ran us off the road in our small taxi, I loved the cheerful artistry of the decorated buses. But they always passed too quickly for my camera.
We took some lovely photos while on a houseboat cruise along the tidal estuaries. 
We were served dinner on the front deck and watched the sun set, then slept in a tidy little cabin on board. The next morning we enjoyed coffee and breakfast while watching the coconut palms slip by and the fishing boats set out for the day.
The picture I didn’t take was of the family we saw in the late afternoon, bathing at the water’s edge in front of their small house. Mother was thigh-deep in the water, carefully washing the baby, while Father kept his eye on the older kids. They were talking in low voices, laughing and occasionally splashing each other as they cleaned up after a busy day. They barely glanced up as our boat passed; they probably don’t give much thought to the lives of the tourists who travel through. But their contentment mirrored mine as the breeze ruffled the water between us, contentment I still feel even without benefit of a photo.
Posted in Uncategorized and tagged vacation by Lisa
Bread by Hand
January has brought a new year, and it has brought increasingly cold weather as well. It’s been dry, so we haven’t yet had any snow, but dressing in four or five layers is now our daily routine. Living in West Africa, I was always on the lookout for shade; here, it’s warm places that magnetically draw me. On my afternoon visits, I find myself heading in the direction of neighbors with warm kitchens!
Some of the best visits take place in kitchens where I arrive just in time for fresh bread with my chai. This bread is almost identical to Mexican tortillas, and is made, with regional variations, all over India. 
Here, the local name for it translates in English as “hand-bread.” The reason is obvious as I watch the process. This young woman is the daughter-in-law in the house; daughters-in-law are often the ones told to make bread and serve chai, as they are hostesses-in-training. She has made a simple dough with flour, water, salt, and oil, which she shapes into small balls. She takes each ball, stretches it, then pats it between her hands to flatten it. Then she rolls it on a round board with a small rolling pin. I watch as she expertly turns the bread just a little between each roll so that it comes out nicely circular, earning a small nod of approval from her mother-in-law.
She tosses the bread onto a hot griddle over an electric hotplate, along with a dab of oil. 
If it looks like she is sitting on the floor to do all this, that’s right—and her griddle is set up in the space under the counter (where there are cupboards in our kitchen). This is how many of my neighbors have their kitchen set up—I guess they figure why stand up to work when you can sit? I think this young woman’s fingers must already be calloused, because she can grab the hot bread with them and quickly flip it on the pan. It only takes a few minutes to cook, and in that time she has another one rolled out and ready. I asked her mother-in-law if every woman knows how to make “hand-bread” and she said yes, then asked me if I knew how. Well… I told her I probably needed a few lessons, and she invited me back to learn. That might be a good way to keep my fingers warm!
Posted in Uncategorized and tagged hand-bread by Lisa