"Amchigel vay?"

  

“Amchigel vay?”  meaning “Are you a Konkani (specifically a Chitrapur Saraswat)?”  

There could not be a sweeter sounding question than this – at 10.30 pm in a dark street with a small cluster of  houses on either side,  in the middle of nowhere – the face peering in thru the car window was completely covered by a monkey cap and I could only see the eyes.

This was 24^th December 2022 and my car driver had finally acknowledged that he did not know the road… and well ….we may be  (a little) lost somewhere between Davangere and Mavingundi.  Mavingudi being a well known junction beyond which both of us knew the road to Chitrapur perfectly well.

How did I get into such a situation you may ask – with Google maps and all,  can one still get lost? 

My journey had begun on 22^nd – a work visit to CMC Vellore which I just could not postpone. The holiday rush meant that no tickets were available on any mode of transport – and the travel from Chitrapur to Vellore was not an easy one – a 3 hour journey to Mangalore airport, a  hopping flight via Hyderabad to Chennai  then a 3 hour road trip to Vellore kind of zigzagging across the southern part of  the country.  The actual distance to Vellore was just 690 Kms and Vivek and I  had driven just a couple of years back on that route.  So I took a decision to hire a vehicle and go.

On all our earlier trips, I would spend quite  some time mapping out the route, writing down the names of the villages en route and finding out the road conditions before the trip.  This time I left it to the driver.   A mistake I regretted after we were about 6 hours into the journey – making a slow progress on the worst stretch of road ever.  He had selected the route via Chitradurga because that was shorter than the others.  Anyway after an hour of a bumpy ride,  the rest of the road was good and we made good time reaching Vellore by around 8  pm. 

The next day was spent at CMC Vellore, the place of work.  Just as I was wrapping up in the evening, a message was sent by one of the senior person requesting whether I could meet him the following morning. That meant I could not leave for the return trip at 6 am as planned.  Anyway leaving at 10  am would still be ok I thought  and agreed for a 9 am meeting. 

As luck would have it, by the time I left it was almost 12 noon.  The previous evening,  I had spent some time mapping out the return trip and checking the road conditions, so I instructed the driver to go via Davangere.  It was slightly longer by about 15 kms but the road condition  was reported to be good.

A bumper to bumper traffic jam on the NICE road skirting Bangalore meant that it was almost 9 pm by the time we reached Davangere.  A quick halt for dinner and soon we reached the junction where we had to leave the broad National highway with well placed signage and enter the crisscrossing network of the State highways with barely visible milestones.  The roads were narrow but well maintained and almost clear of any traffic.

The State highways- very often have sparse traffic until you reach the outskirts of a village or town.

The driver mentioned that he had never driven this stretch before, but was sure he could figure out the way. I had my navigation map on, but kept losing mobile signal and by the time the screen refreshed, I realised we had missed  a turning.  Now  one of the most challenging things to do is to convince a driver to retrace the way and take the route that I had mapped.  He was sure he was on the right track.  We actually went back and forth  with me trying to tell him to look for the road to Tawargi and then Hirekerur.  These were the names of the villages I had noticed on the map.  Then for a brief period like the moon appearing from behind the clouds, my mobile signal caught on and I could see the map. I asked the driver to slow down and turn into what looked like a narrower road. He did it with the utmost reluctance, mumbling that we should have gone via the Chitradurga road.  He just did not trust my navigation skills. And there was no  one around to stop and ask for directions.

 A few minutes later we saw a scattering of a few houses on either side, but the little village seemed to be already asleep.  That’s when I spotted, just outside one of the houses, a man in a Monkey cap patting a small baby to sleep on his shoulder while a small kid walked next to him.  It looked as  if he had just stepped out into the chill night air to soothe the baby to sleep.  “Stop and ask him” I told the driver. Seeing the car stop in front of his house, the man walked towards us and the driver asked him “Is this the way to Tawargi?”.    He peered suspiciously into the car, and started explaining what sounded like multiple route options  to the driver in Kannada…toll road, good road, longer/shorter route with the driver asking him some more questions.  Finally he asked the driver – where in Tawargi do you want to go?”   That’s when I interrupted and said in Kannada “we want to go to Chitrapur” This time he peered again into the car and asked me

“Amchigele Vay?”   (Are you an Amchigele?)

There could not be a sweeter sounding question than this !   He immediately switched to Konkani and explained the route to me – it was the exact same route that I had mapped and we had indeed taken the correct turn on the state highway.  I thanked him and by now the driver had begun to believe  that I had mapped the route correctly.  The rest of the trip was smooth- the road was a delight and no traffic at all.  It was indeed a relief to turn in thru the welcoming entrance to Chitrapur and then reach farm!

Now, sitting in the comfort of my home and writing this down, I must confess that I was anxious when we were seemingly lost in the pitch dark countryside! And it was indeed a relief to meet someone who could speak Konkani and explain the correct directions! 

 

Bingeing on Bananas

 (Once upon a time….)

 

The rain gushes down in torrents. The sound of the rain falling on the tiled roof is drowned out by the sound of the solid pillar of water pouring into the  drum in front of the door. I watch it through the wire mesh that covers the kitchen side of the house. I can see the Cow shed more clearly from here.  As soon as the rain abates, I run out treading the path with care to avoid the green mossy patches where I know I will slip and land in the slush. I make my way past the fragrant rose plant –the huge roses are drenched in rain. I bend down to avoid the low sloping roof and enter the front part of the ‘kottake’ (cow shed) where “Shukri” is tied. She is the most beautiful calf I have ever seen. White and golden brown patches with large luminous eyes and the softest ears. She shakes her head as if to greet me while her mother  tied yonder stops chewing her cud for a while as if to assess my intentions. I pat Shukri and she nuzzles back. After tapping all the cows on their foreheads, I race back into the house, washing my hands in the rain water and tiptoe into the store room to reach for the huge brass cylindrical container filled with sundried bananas…….not before my grandmother’s loving voice assails my ears… “You will get a stomach ache if you eat too many of the sundried bananas!”

 

Aaaah those sundried bananas …….and memories of childhood vacations spent at my grandparents’ farm!

 

(Back to the present…..)

 

When we moved to our farm at Chitrapur, I tried my best to replicate what my grandmother used to make.  Those sun dried bananas were slit lengthwise into 4 or 6 pieces, rich brown in colour and a taste that lingered in your mouth…... well  right into adulthood.  I just could not manage to slit the bananas into evenly sized lengthwise pieces.  The thin ones would stick to the plates, the thick ones would not dry out…..uff.  Maybe those bananas were a different variety, maybe the drying technique was different, maybe it was the very air , maybe……. Whatever it was, I never managed to replicate the exact taste.

 

 Finally  I decided to try slicing them into circles.   I experimented with steel plates – the slices stuck to the plates, tried greasing the plates, the result smelt awful  ….. finally a clean cloth on the steel tables did the trick.  Putting them in slightly overlapping lines eased the task of turning them over after the first day of full sunshine. By end of day 2 the slices are almost done.  Another half a day turns them to the desired level of dryness.

 

So come join me!

 

Ready for slicing

Let us put on some nice music, pull the table into the shade away from the blazing sun, and Peel-slice-peel-slice-peel-slice in a loop until EOBB (End-of-Banana bunch). 

The neat lines of banana slices are all ready for drying.

 Then push the table back into the sunshine and let’s go downstairs to have a hearty breakfast…Homegrown Horse-gram idlis on the menu today.

 

 I will treat you to a special chilled Starfruit juice for all the hardwork….. but more about the juice in the next post.

The end result - Sun dried Bananas!

And yes they are available on my online store!