Other

In Kerela, The Kid and I have become the Other. Once outside of Cochin, we are without the company of any Westerners.

In Palakkad, wherever we went, people would come up to us to be introduced. Little children giggle and smile, mothers and fathers smiling and head wobbling, that most universal of Indian facial expressions.

Teenaged boys and students stop what they are doing, turning motorcycles around to come back to where we are and be introduced. People ask to pose for pictures with us, throwing their arms around us and smiling away with their new photos as if with a prize

In Calicut, amongst the thousand people out for promenade, we were minor celebrities. It is a unique experience, unequalled even in small villages in Lao. We have decided that it is a case of being unique, whether or not we deserve the uniqueness.

In the space of one cigar on the grounds of our hotel, I was introduced to at least thirty of the citizens of this fair city. I almost feel the responsibility of a goodwill ambassador. and The Kid, at 6'-3" and with his blue hair and five finger shoes, is almost more "Other" than the locals can deal with.