Kovalam - From Maharajas to Tourists

Those days there was only one hotel at the Kovalam beach, or that is the blurred image in my mind. I as a kid visited Kovalam way back in the 1960s with family, no idea why they took me there. The sparkling sea waves lashing the rocks gave an unforgettable scene. This hotel, I feel, is the present Sea Rock. But it has lost all identity in an over populated crowd of hotels now. Kovalam was always dear to me, when studying and working away from Kerala I used to spend a part of my vacation at Kovalam, lying that I am going back. Having a beer and tuna at the beach hotels, that was in the eightees. The way Kovalam changes is amazing, every year it grows. The palm groves are no more visible, only buildings, crowds, but then that is how life is.

Kovalam was originally a pilgrim spot, where people worshipped ancestors on the black moon day of Karkidakam, when it was called Avadu Thurai. The place was also famous as the birth place of Kovalam Kavikal, considered mile stones of ancient Malayalam language. Then it became the place where the Travancore kings went on holiday and during the British period also the European officers. It was in the seventees that the place became a haven for the then breed of hippies. Back packers arrived in their hordes and a sub-culture of anarchy thrives, with it drugs, drinks and women. Kovalam became an island in the conservative Kerala society. Liberal values got mixed with the vices, later to balance. But the native is still not a sought after species at Kovalam, it has its own religion and rituals.

Kovalam beach is always in vibrant mood and the small bay formation and the hillocks add to the charm. One can swim in the sea for most part of the year, where often the same tourists come almost every year, like migratory birds. There are unique features in Kovalam and many hotel boys and owners get married to foreigners, many own land here and have made it their home. The relationship is enduring, simple villagers love the tourists and as a German friend once told me, it is a search for authenticity that drives westerners. Their culture has become too fake, appearences alone matter now, how places like Kovalam with genuine people beckon them. I have made many friends at Kovalam and one of them now runs an art gallery cum cafe at the junction. The sketches he do on the nearby bay of Vizhinjam are cute. But the one friend I always talk about is another English man, I met him in 1985 perhaps. An young artist from Birmingham, who worked for ten months every year and spend two months at Kovalam. He had come to identify with the local people and talked about tourists in third person.

Do you know why these ladies and men lie down on the beach, he once asked me, I said tanning, sun bathing, and he said no. It is to show off their bodies he said, it is a kind of reverse voyeurism, he added. I said what is wrong, god has made beautiful bodies to enjoy what is wrong if they show it. And for the local people, from a severely conservative society, this is a major attraction for them. Seeing the semi-clad men and women, before the arrival of the pornography sites in the internet this was an escape for the sex starved people. For in south India to show off body parts for women can be a serious offense, it is always neatly packed in sarees. So the only option for the natives is to see these blondes, how they crowd the beach. It is not quite natural, all animals have such rights, but that is how human social values are. So Kovalam has its functions, and for puritans to say that it is all indecent is an amount of self denial, some of them peep, some stare, some stand and watch for minutes. And those from liberal cultures realize how precious there wares are. But Kovalam does have its negatives, like the money power of tourists making the native sub-human, the differential sexual freedom for foreigners and natives, the begging culture of native traders and vendors who try to please the foreigner and look down at the local people. But end of the day what endures is the sparkling waters of the sea, the infectious joy that everyone shares on the beach where the cultures melt.