A brush with protests and riots

A beachfront experience thanks to an inconvenient protest
In1997, we visit Allepey ( Kerala, India) near Kumarakom which is a bird sanctuary. We  book into a two-bedroom thatch-roofed houseboat on the backwaters. It has a reasonably sized dining room. The onboard 'chef', prepares our meals and refreshments. When there are no mosquitos we sit out on a platform that extends out of the boat at a lower level.  This could only accommodate two chairs. The backwaters are calm and so we are never in danger of being washed over by waves or slipping into the waters.
When we are about to disembark the next day we find out there is a hartal in place. Our car with a driver has been waiting for us at the pier but he will not take us. He will not drive us to our next destination. He fears the car will be damaged by the protestors. Now, we have to spend the night in Allepey. A quick thinking boatman says we could book into a local hotel for the night and just hope the hartal would end the next day.
He has got someone with a motorbike to take us 2 at a time to a hotel he recommended. The suitcases also come on a motorbike. 
We are lucky to meet the owners of the hotel. They are resolutely hanging on to the house the have inherited along the beach front, refusing to sell out to hotels sharing the expensive beachfront with them. We have lovely home made meals and naps in a hammock on the beach. 
The hartal ends the next day and so our relieved driver feels it safe to take us to our next destination.

A hartal is a mass protest, often forcing a shutdown of workplaces, offices, shops, and courts of law. It's somewhat like a labour strike. 
In Kerala, unlike most other Indian states, normal life almost comes to a standstill, during a hartal. Union leaders ask people to keep vehicles off the road and to shut shops and other establishments, including schools, for 48 hours

A real threat
In that same tour we are stuck in traffic jam in one of the main thoroughfares in Bangalore, India. We are just a few minutes away from the hotel but the traffic is at a standstill. We hear protestors. We get angry looks. Our driver gets jittery. They might smash our windows. Shards of glass could wound us. I'm sure we all kept our fingers tightly crossed. We were fortunate that within a few minutes traffic began to move and we were spared.
Steering clear 
We are just ending our day of walking around 'Japan Town', Sao Paulo , visiting the special museum depicting the history of the largest Japanese Population outside of Japan (see my blog: Alms and the Man). As we walk down the main thoroughfare and turn into the street leading to our AirBnb apartment right in the city centre. We see suspicious activity. Shields held by riot police form 4 walls at a busy intersection. They are not movinng. Our minds sense urgency. We just know that we have to leave the area immediately. Since we are very familiar with the area, having spent a few days there, we immediately turn into the side streets and alleys. The circuitous route takes us safely into the condo. 
We are already thinking of taking the metro bus and train to the outlying areas of Sao Paulo the next day. Little did we know then that a riot did take place and had turned violent. And what was the protest about? Fare hikes! 

In the thick of it
Our AirBnb apartment in Buenos Aires was right on Avenida De Mayo, the main road leading to the seat of Argentinian governance, right next to the historic Parisian style Cafe Tortoni, the haunt of famous figures from all walks of life, including Albert Einstein and world leaders. It is best known for the salon downstairs that holds interesting daily events, including live radio performances, poetry readings and a tango show. ( Little did we know that we would watch a life performace outside a restaurant on our forays the next day.)Of course, there was always a long line outside the cafe waiting for their reservations.  If there were any famous figures we were glibly unaware. 
We returned from roaming the streets, negotiating a long queue next door, before entering our temporry premises. A cruise friend, a tourist agent from Buenos Aires, came to share the simple dinner I had prepared. Over dinner she enlightened us on why Argentina welcomed immigrants. "We are all boat people," she puts it simply.
Just as she leaves we hear drums and dismiss it as some activity next door at the cafe. But it continues and we hear chants as well. It's all in Portugese and so we are clueless. Curiousity gets the better of me. I  look out the window. What do I see? Groups of people all walking towards Plaza de Mayo. It all seems peaceful. No need for bravado in going out on the streets to really get to know what is happening! So, I do. I see some musical instruments but no visible weapons. I don't see police. A woman comes by and hands me a pamphlet. I try to make out the message. Could it be a commercial advertisement? it is in a foreign language. Since it didn't seem exciting and I simply couldn't comunicate with anyone ( blog on having trouble with exchanging tickets) I called it quits and retired for the night. Weeks after we left Buenos Aires we found out that I had witnessed a protest against repression and censorship.
Tent 'city' in Seoul
Walking down the arterial road in Seoul, taking in a world war 2 picture exhibition and then posing in borrowed hanbo, we stroll towards Seoul's City Hall, an imposing glass structure with a living wall in its foyer. It is right beside the old city hall which houses a library. And next to it? A tent 'city'!

We knew that tents came up In Zucotti Park, NYC during Occupy Wall Street, a protest against ecconomic inequaities. But it is 11 years now. Is it still alive in South Korea? What a stark contrast to the buildings and the preparations for the Spring Festival. Typically, it is only much later that we learn of the protest by supporters of an ousted president. 
We were very lucky indeed not to be terribly inconvenienced by any of these events.




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