Tag: Kochin

The Rich History of Jew Town in Kochin and the Chinese Fishnets

December 20, 2024

The next day Dinesh showed us the Chinese fishing nets. These were stationary lift nets. Circling them, I discovered teak pylons hammered into the ground supporting a shoreside deck, from which the enormous net cantilevered. Four poles, lashed together at the apex, supported a twenty-meter-wide net stretched between their bases. Two of the poles connected to the edge of the platform while the other two cantilevered over the water.

From the platform, workers used ropes tied to the apex of the four poles where the poles met, to raise and lower the net into the water. It took up to six men to pull up the net when submerged. The workers lowered the net for about ten minutes, then lifted it to remove the fish. Tourists could buy the catch of the day, prepared as fresh fish, at little sidewalk restaurants. The entire operation was a crowd-pleaser, and I watched it for a few hours.

I heard two stories about where the nets and this construction came from. One was that the Chinese explorer Zheng He brought such nets from the court of Kublai Khan. The other story was that Portuguese traders returned with the idea from their travels in China; confirmed by the fact that many fishing net parts retained their Portuguese names. Both narratives dated the fishing nets back to the fifteenth century. There were only eight such nets left. Watching the nets go down and up was a relaxing sight.

But Kochin had more to offer us; Dinesh took us to Jew Town. I said, What? The idea of a city area named after an ethnicity seemed unique to me, until I remembered examples like Ottawa’s Little Italy and the many Chinatowns. I learned that the oldest Jewish settlement in India was in Kochin and that they traced their ancestry back to King Solomon. Known as Malabari Jews, they built synagogues along the Malabar coast, starting in the twelfth and fourteenth centuries. Following the expulsion of Jews by the Spanish in 1492 in Iberia, Sephardi Jews made their way to the Kochin area. These people were called Paradesi Jews—the word means foreigners.

The Sephardim spoke Spanish but learned the Judea-Malayalam language from the Malabari Jews. The two communities maintained their respective ethnic identities, languages, and customs. In the late nineteenth century, some Arabic-speaking Jews immigrated to the Kochin area and became known as Baghdadi Jews. The synagogue we saw dates back to 1568. It was one of only eight synagogues left in Kerala that were functioning and had congregants; the oldest congregant was ninety-six years old. After independence in India was declared in 1947, many Jews moved to Israel. Today, there are few Jews left in Kochin, and Jew Town consists mostly of antique stores, and the one synagogue that we saw.

We went inside the synagogue and learned how the various Jewish ethnic groups used the synagogue. Synagogue membership was granted in full to the Paradesi Jews, also known as White Jews, who were of Sephardic descent from Spain, Portugal, and the Netherlands. The so-called black Jews, or Malabari Jews, could worship in the synagogue but were not admitted to full membership. I did not learn the status of the Arabic Jews.

The 1968 four-hundredth anniversary of the synagogue saw global Jewish communities celebrate, with Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi in attendance. The celebration demonstrated how the Jews from Kochin melted into the global diaspora.

On our way to the Green Woods Bethlehem Homestay, Dinesh convinced us to visit the Church of St. Francis on the site of old Fort Kochin. Kochin’s history and its succession of rulers are interwoven with the story of St. Francis Church. The history of this church started with Vasco da Gama, the Portuguese explorer who discovered the sea route from Europe to India. Portuguese explorers later built Fort Kochi in Kochin, which contained a church honoring St. Bartholomew. The construction of this wooden church was completed in 1506.

In 1516, Franciscan friars replaced the wooden church with a brick-and-mortar structure dedicated to St. Anthony. Vasco da Gama died in Kochin in 1524 and was buried in this brick-and-mortar church. After fourteen years, they moved his remains to Lisbon. But the gravestone of Vasco da Gama was still visible on the ground at the southern side of the Church of St. Francis.

The church remained Franciscan until the Dutch captured Kochin in 1663 and converted it to a Protestant government church. After the British captured Kochin in 1795, the church’s denomination changed again—this time to Anglican, run by the Anglican Communion, and renamed the Church of St. Francis. Historians believe the Anglicans changed the name to St. Francis. The church we saw was small by European standards and needed renovation.

Exploring Kathakali: A Journey Through Kerala’s Cultural Heritage

December 19, 2024


Last night, a friend told me they’ve stopped traveling. His world travels, he claimed, made him weary of endless airport security lines and long flights. Since they prefer staying home, what’s the point of traveling? His comments resonated with me. While we’ve travelled extensively and still yearn for more adventures, the ease of watching travel programs at home is appealing. But his comments brought up memories of some journeys that we took in the past and decided to blog with them. Following are my memories of our Indian adventure in Kerala in 2011. More of our journey will be detailed in later blogs.

Our guide, Dinesh, collected us from Kōchi Airport and drove us to Green Woods Bethlehem Homestay. It was located in a tranquil Kochin suburb. Despite its small, fenced-in suburban appearance, the house’s interior was unexpectedly large. We walked through a landscaped garden to reach the building. The hostess asked for our passports; the first business item at the hotels in India was to take your passport and make a copy. Despite providing copies, hotels and guesthouses sometimes still needed the original documents. Our room included a seating area and was furnished with English colonial pieces and mementos. We found the dining area upstairs on the roof with a canopy and many plants. It overlooked the landscaped garden

Following a light dinner, we went with Dinesh to see a Kathakali dance. I had never heard of this type of dancing before, but I discovered it originated in Kerala about three hundred years ago. It remained largely unknown beyond the State’s borders. Kathakali, a story-play, is renowned for its costumes, musical accompaniment (drums and cymbals), and symbolic storytelling drawing from the Puranas—Hindu legends and myths. The stories are conveyed through pantomime, sign language, and physical expressions, like fluttering eyelids, twirling fingers, and quivering lips. Even without comprehending the Hastalakshana Deepika-derived sign language, the pantomime’s expressiveness made the story clear just by watching the actors. The actors were all males; males performed even the female roles, although, given their makeup and dresses, I could not tell that they were all males in the audience.

It is not just the play but also the preparations for the play itself that were part of the entertainment. Once seated, the actors came in and painted each other’s faces with vivid hues. It took a long time. One actor was painting another for more than an hour. It was interesting but long. I learned that each of the paints, prepared from local materials, had significance and symbolism. For example, green paint on the face meant a noble protagonist and black clothing was designated as a she-demon. They prepared all the paints used for the makeup from local natural materials: they make red from red earth, such as cinnabar, and they make black from soot.


Besides the wide use of facial makeup, the story relied heavily on costumes to identify the roles. For example, the actors wore huge headgear that, along with the makeup, signified who the actors portrayed: the hero, the villain, or the female. Each actor donned a beautiful, decorative jacket over a long skirt with thick cushions for added volume. The show lasted more than three hours, and we were tired just by the concentration on what was happening on the stage. Dinesh told us that there were Kathakali schools to preserve the old ways.