Two watery  grave mishaps

 

Have you ever had an experience when you happened to see death before you? 

Two times in my life I was about to get killed. Interestingly, both times it was water that would have become my grave. It was in 1978 or 79 that I and my two friends were on a road trip. It was afternoon when we reached the Alleppey beach. The beach was neat, the sea was calm, and mild waves washed the silvery sand. We had tender coconuts and just sat on the beach watching the sea. 

Since we were all young and enthusiastic, we naturally wanted to try our diving prowess. Every time we surfaced after a dive, we had a handful of seabed muck in our hands. I was going deeper and deeper into the waves without recognizing the risk since I was so happy. I was separated from my friends by roughly two hundred feet in the sea. I saw that I was about in line with the sea bridge's apex before I dove. I tried one more dive, but it seemed to be several fathoms below the surface, and I was unable to reach it. I experienced an odd terror. My legs were abruptly trapped in a horizontal wave of water. The flow was moving at an incredible pace, and in an instant I found myself being drawn in and carried away by it. I was afraid I might end up to the icy, dark bottom of the ocean.

I had the impression that someone was telling me not to give up and to make every attempt to avoid drowning. I had a tremendous surge of energy coursing through my arms and legs, and before I knew it, my head was dry. I plunged toward the coast without wasting a second. My pals were waiting under a canopy. They were worried as there was no sign of me over the water for some time.! I told them of the danger I had to experience underwater. They were quite relieved that they didn't have to carry me to Elapully!

We stopped at a little tea shop on our way to the car to have hot tea and some nibbles. I struck up a conversation with the hotel owner, bringing up the topic of the sea and the little ships moored near the sea bridge. I finally told him about my underwater encounter. With his eyes wide open, the tea shop owner remarked to me,

You dived in the canal dredged for ships.  There's a strong, continuous current over there. It's a blessing that you survived without drowning. You are one among the very few people who have escaped from being carried away by the current."
I requested that the hotel owner post the following message on a board outside his establishment before I left:

“DO NOT SWIM IN THE SEA. IF YOU DO SO, YOU MIGHT NOT SEE THE LAND AGAIN”.

After 45 years,  I want  to  see how the sea bridge looks. According to the news, the bridge was abandoned by the port authority because ships considered it unsafe to berth by it because it was beginning to break apart.  

 

     

                                         This is what is left of the bridge now.

Even though the bridge is practically gone, the strong current ought to continue running unhindered.

In Zurich, Switzerland, at "Lake Zurich," I had my second brush with death. Two years had passed since my last encounter with death. I am appreciative of my friends for having invited me to Zurich and setting up my tour of the country.

It was June if my memory serves me well. For almost a week, the weather had been frigid, with light snowfall occurring at night as well. The weather soon changed, and the sun came out.

Two more days of the same bright weather were in store. It appears that the sun was the one who persuaded me to dive into Lake Zurich. My friends asked whether I would like to go swimming with them in the lake because they were thrilled about the weather change. Whenever I had the chance, I would never have hesitated to go swimming.

                                                                Lake Zurich

We arrived at a lakeside swimming area not too long after. After putting our shirts and pants in lockers, we headed for the lake. Children were running around and some people were sunning themselves on the bank. I saw that the building where we left our clothing was next to a restaurant.

My companions grabbed two beach chairs and prepared to slather themselves in sunscreen and enjoy some sun exposure.
"I don't need to tan anymore as my skin is already brown and tanned," I said as I made my way over to the diving board stand. My pals waved back to me as I stood at the edge of the diving platform.

I dived in. I initially thought the water was chilly but not frigid. As I descended further, the water's temperature abruptly dropped. I felt as if my body was being penetrated by needles from all directions. I made every attempt to get to the surface, but after plunging from a considerable height, I continued to descend into the frigid waters like an arrow.

I sadly decided  that Zurich would be the location of my "watery grave." I tried to calm my thoughts by picturing that I would have to pass away eventually and that it wouldn't matter if I died in Zurich or at home. I should have worked hard to surface –I don’t remember how- and it was a great relief when I surfaced and breathed the cool air! I told myself I was still alive as I glanced at the bustling shore!

I swam to shore like someone fleeing a forest fire. I was surprised to see everyone's eyes turned toward me as I emerged from the water. I didn't know why people were staring at me at first. When I discovered the cause, I was truly taken aback. My skin looked bluish-yellow and wrinkled like an elephants’ from the icy cold water! (My friends commented that I appeared like an alien with my wrinkled skin after we got back home!)

I was shivering and extremely fatigued. My pals and a few more hurried over to me. They carried me into a heated room and covered me with a blanket. I was asked to consume French fries and hot coffee as quickly as possible. My skin took about an hour to return to its original colour and the wrinkles vanished.

I got out of the blanket roll, gave my thanks to all around me, and we headed back home. My pals had given up on the concept of going swimming—possibly because the water was so cold—and showered at home to remove the "sun lotion."

In conclusion, I learned the following after the two life-threatening events: 1) never swim near shipping routes. 2) In colder nations, consider twice before jumping into lakes on bright days. The sun's heat causes the snow on the peaks of the mountains to melt, allowing the icy streams to cascade into lakes and rivers. You will undoubtedly become cold if you dive while estimating the water's surface temperature. Because icy cold water is denser, it fills up at the bottom and pushes warmer water to the top. Even in tropical oceans, divers claim that the water becomes chillier if you dive deeper and deeper.

I would have just enjoyed a hot cup of coffee while watching the beauty of Lake Zurich from a beach chair if I had realized the two factors earlier!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                   

 Meeting the Maya

 

I have read many books on Maya civilization and watched documentaries on the Maya ruins. This kindled in me the desire to visit and, if possible, visit a village of the present Maya descendants. I was reading the book “Mayan Civilization “and the doorbell rang. I was stunned when I opened the door to see a Maya woman standing before me. You might be wondering how I identified her as Maya. Sometimes, I may not be able to identify my own countrymen in a mob, but I will never miss a Maya, as the Mayan’s features are recorded in my mind.

I stood watching her for some time without greeting her. My dumbness might have made her uncomfortable, and she said:

 “Hello. Good morning. I have come to fix a few things in this house,” in a South American Spanish accent.

“Yes. Please come in, and you can do your work,” I politely answered.

When she finished her work and was about to leave the house, I slowly started conversing with her. 

“It is wonderful that you have finished your work very fast.” I started the conversation.

She just smiled at me.

“I am sorry that I didn’t ask your name. Will you please let me know?" I was keen on knowing her ethnicity rather than her name, as it was rude on my part to ask her, “Are you a Mayan?”? 

In some cultures, asking one’s religion or ethnicity at the first meeting itself is not considered impolite. I worked in a country where people often used to ask me, “Are you a M?” All the time  I replied with the name of a religion that came to mind, and immediately the other person would say, “Very bad,” and turn their face!

One day, I and my friend Poly Isaac were walking along the street when one person stopped us and asked, “Are you M.S.?" When we said we were not;  immediately came the comment:

“Then two of you will not go to heaven.”.

Immediately, Poly Isaac asked the person:

“Will you go to heaven?”.

“Yes. I will go to heaven,” came the reply.

Then Poly Isaac humbly requested the man:

“Once you go to heaven, please ask God to bring us also to there.”

The man did not understand Poly Isaac’s sarcasm and  he replied vehemently:

“No. I cannot do that.”.

"Akna,” she replied.

The moment she said her name was Akna  my thoughts were shattered, and I said,

Are you not a Maya? Excuse me if I am wrong.”.

 

“You are right. I am a Maya,”  came the reply instantly.

“Akna, what a beautiful name! Akna is the Mayan goddess of fertility." 

I had been looking to meet a Maya, and the hope had just slowly been vanishing when a Maya came in front of me.  Akna was not in a hurry to go, I and my wife were eager to know more about the Maya way of life. She politely accepted our tea and sat with us for more than an hour, talking to us. I learned more from Akna about Mayans than I have learned from loads of books and videos on Mayans. Akna said we should meet her parents and brothers if we visited Honduras, who would help us familiarize ourselves with the Maya way of life.

She got into her car  wishing:

“K'a'ak'ate. Taak ulak k'iin“ (Good Bye. (See you later.)

“Ka xi'ik teech utsil. Ka'ajxi'ikte'ex utsil” (Good luck. Have a nice day.) I wished back and Akma drove away smiling.  For more such  Yucatec Maya phrases, please search on Google!

 

 

IN, ON, BEFORE OR AFTER THE TIME?

My friend Andrew¹  is A Swiss architect and writer. In 1980, he entrusted me with the work of translating a book on ancient Kerala architecture from Malayalam to English. He wanted me to be in Switzerland while I did the translation. During every break, my friend generously helped me travel around.

Andrew’s parents lived just a few miles away from him. Henry² and Margaret³ were a wonderful couple, and their generosity and hospitality always overwhelmed me. Henry was a World War II veteran, was kind and, above all, very informative. Though he was rather friendly, his strict military discipline always kept me at a distance. I have learned many things from him, and one thing I learned from him was keeping time. That is the theme of my writing. Margaret found that I loved the cherry cake she baked, and most of the weekends Margaret would bake cherry cake for me and invite me to their home for dinner. After dinner, Henry would declare that he had found a place to visit and ask if I would like to join him.

I was always more than ever willing to travel with him, and we three would get into his Volkswagon. We used to return late in the evening, and after dropping me off at Andrew’s apartment, his parents would say bye to me. Those were my memorable moments in Switzerland.

One Saturday morning, Andrew handed over the phone receiver to me, saying that his mother was calling me. (There were no mobile phones in those days.) Margaret was going to bake cherry cake and invited me to her home. I happily agreed that I would be at their door by 8 or 30. When I said 8–30, little did I realize what destiny had in store to teach me a lesson—a valuable lesson! Many lessons in life are like this. They will be embarrassing and a blow to your ego, but shortly turn out to be a lesson that is to be with you throughout -modifying your life.

I had to finish typing a page, and before I finished typing it at an express speed—it was 8–16. I rushed to the tram stop to realize that the 8–15 tram had left. The next tram was at 8-20.  There were ten minutes for the tram and five minutes for me to walk to Andrew’s parents’ home would make me late for five minutes. There was no time to go to a public booth and call Andrew’s parents.

While I was making these calculations and sweating in my pants, the 8-20 tram came and halted in front of me. I got into the tram as if my hurry would make the tram go faster! It was just past 8:35 when I reached Andrew’s parents’ home. When Margaret opened the door, I found that she looked worried. Usually, she would look cheerful and open the door, smiling with a warm welcome. She whispered in my ears that I was late, and it made Henry annoyed. He was in the ante room reading. She signalled for me to go and meet him. In the ante room, Henry was sitting facing a window and reading a book.

I went near him and gently said, "Hello, Mr. Henry."

He turned to me and looked at me sternly. That was the right time; and without giving him time to say anything, I continued.:

“I am extremely sorry. I am late by TEN  minutes. I had to finish some work that I had already started when Mrs Margaret called. I was keen on getting into the 8-10 tram, but I missed it by seconds."

Henry’s stern face turned brighter, and he waved at a sofa for me to sit on. He looked at me for a few moments and said, “Now take it from me. One of the greatest qualities of a person is the ability to keep time. Turning out to be late for an appointment is disgusting." He continued, “You are a young man, and I am sure that you will have to face many challenges in life. If you keep on failing to reach a place on time'', it will become your habit, and you  will never be successful in life. Further, you will  be an eyesore to others who keep time.

 “You are right Mr. Henry, and I will remember your advice always." I said. Henry was pleased and concluded, shaking my hands, “We may not be able to present on time on all occasions. If we feel that we may not be able to reach a place as we promised, we need to call the person concerned well in advance and let them know of our  helplessness."

I have never been a tardy person after Mr. Henry’s gentle reproach.  I was made into an ardent ‘time keeper’ and have always been on time, or most of the time, ‘before time’! I don’t remember even one occasion when I had to be called and said I was late.   I worked in another country as an English teacher for twelve years and had not been late to report even a single day except on leave days when I didn’t have to sign at all. On a number of occasions, I had forgotten to report, and the gentleman office assistant  located  me and ask ed me to sign the register before I went home. I always remember the office assistant with gratitude who was sure I would always be on time. It is said that if you start  doing a penance, after some time it will gradually grow into an austere penance.

 In the same way, my penance to keep time has grown into an austere penance, and I start getting restless as time slowly ticks to the targeted time. Invitations would clearly specify things like “Function starts at 8 AM,"  “Party between 5 and PM,”, “Kindly be present at 9 AM, and so on. The moment I get an invitation, my mental clock will start ticking, and I will reach the venue in fifteen to thirty minutes. Sadly, and surprisingly, there would be no one in the place except the helpers and one or two stray dogs . During  such occasions,  I would just kill time sitting in different places in the beginning and retreating to a vacant place and murmuring why they didn’t start the function  t ‘On time’. Comfortably, after half an  hour, the function started, and the organizers smiled at me, feeling shy they were late.   I looked at them, and said grinningly, “But I came before the ime."

1, 2, and 3: real names have been changed for anonymity.