11.04.2014 - 12.04.2014
After three days of furious temple gazing, we were more than ready for Tranquebar. This small town by the Indian Ocean began as a Danish trading port in the 1620's. The old Dutch Fort is still standing, a tawny stucco and brick building just by the sea, looking very much like the Moroccan forts on the hill sides of the Atlas Mountains. The Danes eventually sold the place to the Brits, and it remained with them until Indian gained Independence in1947.
We are staying in the old commissioners house, also dating from the 17th century. This house, with it's two foot thick walls managed to survive the tsunami, which killed 800 people here in tranquil Tranquebar. It was not tranquil on that fateful day.
The remains of other brick walls jut directly into the water in front of us.
Somehow, the old lamp posts leading up to the beach are still here, as well as several other large buildings with walls as thick as the commissioners house.
In the rest of the town, there are much smaller houses with tile roofs and low doorways, also obviously quite old. Some of these are slowly being rebuilt or renovated after the flood. A number of NGO's have been active here, helping to rebuild. Around town there is much hammering and sawing going on. There are also small lanes of thatched roof houses that have obviously been built more recently, with goats and chickens here and there, eating whatever they can find. This was, and is, a poor town of fishermen, most of whom probably barely eek out a living.
Despite the poverty and the destruction, the town has a relaxed and charming atmosphere, with a near constant sultry breeze that takes the edge off the relentless sun. Unlike in Kannur, the sea is gentle here, or has been, with small waves and little undertow. Perhaps for this reason, we see more Indians in the water, though almost all are fully clothed, and seem to prefer the safety of swimming within the old brick walls,where even the small waves are absent. The locals are very friendly, smiling and saying hello,and even asking for us to take their picture.
Moods can change quickly at this age
We were told that our hotel had just been renovated and opened the day before the great wave. They rebuilt once again, and fortunately managed to preserve the character of the old place. Our room, Princess Louise, with its 25 foot ceilings and windows almost as high, is a study in green. Our old brass canopy bed, felt like it might collapse as we made love this afternoon.
"The Bungalow," as it is called, a relative splurge, is the only upscale place in town, and seemingly has the only restaurant, which unfortunately is not particularly good. An interesting mix of people are staying here, including several Indians from the states, a doctoral student from London, with her Tamil translator, who is doing research on how people were effected by the tsunami. There is also a British couple, our age, whom we sat with last night for dinner, as they proceeded to fight about the spiciness of the food. George is an old India hand, and went to boarding school in an Indian hill town, while his father served in the military in India. He comes back every year for several months, and seems to feel quite at home, although his wife clearly does not.
The Bungalow has a wide veranda which overlooks the sea. Sitting here and looking out at the many fishing boats, I am reminded of other beach vacations in the Caribbean.
Even the small palms and Norfolk pines are similar. I can almost picture one of the English commissioners, sitting in a wicker chair similar to the one I am now in, sipping a gin and tonic, and discussing trade with the Nawab of Tamil Nadu. Perhaps it was the same Nawab, or his relative, who encouraged the Danes to set up shop here before the Brits arrived.
View from the veranda
As the breeze picks up there are small whitecaps. Several Muslim women, all in black, are standing near the beach, and a group of Indian men, all in white, are walking on one of the brick walls heading toward the water. There is an ice cream cart, Arun,parked nearby, and another one selling fresh oj. Other women in brightly colored saris walk by in groups. Opposite the old fort on the other side of the veranda, is a small Hindu temple, recently painted and repaired.
These women in pink and yellow shawls were enjoying the sea view
Despite what happened here some 10 years ago, there is nothing depressing about the place, even with all the destruction that is still present. Life clearly goes on, and it may be that one day Tranquebar will regain much of what it lost. The people here seem quite irrepressible.
Looking up at the sky inside the fort