About Kerala

For almost two years now, we — Lena, Andrey, and our fluffy lady, the Norwich Terrier Shanya (a.k.a. Shining Diamond Lekato Venus) — have been settled in the Indian state of Kerala, not far from its capital city whose very name provokes a mild sense of panic in anyone attempting to pronounce it: Thiruvananthapuram.

Even the locals themselves prefer to call it Trivandrum. Or simply TRV.

If you dig just a few centimeters deeper, you’ll discover that even the state’s name is supposed to be “Keralam,” which means “land of coconuts.” Yet, oddly enough, not even Keralites call it that.

And indeed, coconut palms are found at every step here. They are absurdly tall, ridiculously fertile, and the coconuts themselves come in all shapes, sizes, and colors.

Another nickname for the state — often paraded by tourist websites — is God’s Own Country. While often translated simply as “the land of gods,” the phrase more accurately means “God’s personal land.” It might sound exaggerated… until you’ve spent a few months here and start to suspect that Lord Vishnu himself once helped design this eternally blooming, lush green garden — possibly so he could later lie down in its shade, post-sadhya lunch, and take a sweet, 2–3 hour nap under a banyan tree. (The locals, for the record, do exactly that — not just after lunch but at any time of the day, in the most unexpected places and positions, faithfully following the wisdom of the one who naps on the serpent Shesha while the world dreams along.)

Geographically, Kerala is a narrow strip of land along the Malabar Coast of the Indian Ocean. Despite its modest size, the population here could rival several European countries. The main spoken language is Malayalam — a language as twisty as the movements in Kalaripayattu (a local martial art), as loud and melodic as the local bird songs, and as loooooong as the traditional Kathakali dance.

They also speak English here — albeit with a generous helping of mistakes — but the gist usually gets through.

Kerala is not quite India. Or rather, not the India you expect. It officially became part of the country only in 1956, and unlike much of the subcontinent, which was under Mughal and later British rule, Kerala retained its independence for much longer. Its culture and traditions remain unique and deeply rooted.

The terrain here is wonderfully diverse: from flat coastal plains to the majestic Western Ghats. The climate zones are just as varied — in a few hours you can go from a humid rainforest to a breezy coast or a cool hill station. The sunsets here are mesmerizing, like freshly painted masterpieces by some divine artist. Kerala is also famous for its backwaters — a web of waterways that attract millions of Indian tourists each year, who drift through the green canals in houseboats, enjoying the peace, bird songs, and an atmosphere found nowhere else on Earth.

Organic farming here isn’t a trendy concept — it’s tradition. Many farms still use natural methods, and the produce is unusually clean and tasty. The local fruits are delicious and easy to distinguish from those grown in other states.

The locals are incredibly kind and honest. Cheating, shortchanging, and other such shenanigans are not the norm. Though tuk-tuk drivers are a notable exception — they tend to see white foreigners as walking wallets. But don’t worry: Uber has already saved many souls from financial ruin. Here, it’s common to smile and greet people in the street — gloomy Russian faces just don’t fit in. Upon meeting, men tend to adjust their lungis, twitch their mustaches (both mandatory accessories), and loudly discuss the latest news, complain about the government, and grumble about the weather — regardless of what the weather actually is.

Everyone drinks “chaya” — a strong tea boiled in milk with an absurd amount of sugar. The flavor is... let’s say “distinctive.” Which is ironic, given that local tea varieties are considered elite and even served to the British royal family.

Infrastructure? Excellent! High-speed trains, long-distance buses with impressive punctuality, and three international airports handling flights from all over the world.

European-level malls with both global and local brands, food courts, and restaurants that wouldn’t be out of place in five-star hotels — though, fair warning, prices can bite. Still, not as painfully as the local red ants.

You’ll also find countless local eateries and shops — admittedly, an acquired taste — but Kerala takes hygiene seriously, and the chances of food poisoning are minimal.

Roads are generally good and suitable for any form of transport, though local quirks persist: a rickshaw might dart into oncoming traffic, or a dog might decide to relieve itself in the middle of the highway.

This state boasts the highest literacy rate in the country. Look around — there’s a university, college, or school on every corner.

It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that every second Keralite carries a master’s degree in their pocket or at least a couple of freshly published academic articles.

Healthcare facilities spring up like mushrooms after the monsoon: hospitals, clinics, dental offices, and wellness centers are everywhere. Ancient Ayurvedic practices are taught at state universities, and hospitals blend yoga and Panchakarma into modern treatments.

But Kerala isn’t just education and medicine — it’s a land of ashrams and temples. It’s easy to find your inner peace here. Ashrams come in all flavors: from traditional ones like Amritapuri — home to the famous Amma (the “hugging saint”) — to places like Sivagiri Math in Varkala, where you can meditate while watching the sun rise over the ocean with a latte macchiato in hand.

We’ll dedicate a separate piece to temples (we could write books), but the most important thing is: all religions coexist here. Weddings, concerts, light shows, and even splashy water parties can take place in and around temples.

Keralan beaches are the place to meet the sunrise and witness the sunset, to climb a cliff and feel like an adventure novel’s protagonist, or dive underwater in hopes of spotting marine life. Varkala offers calm and serenity; Kovalam is for surfers — if the waves don’t scare off the lifeguards first.

The ocean can be moody here. Sometimes the waves are so wild, even the thought of swimming crashes against them. That’s why beaches are often closed from May to September.

There are hotels to fit every budget near the ocean, plus countless private homes offering rooms, floors, or entire villas for rent.

Life in Kerala isn’t just about existing on a palm-lined coast or battling the intensity of local spices each morning (which will wake you up better than any alarm clock — even the local roosters seem drowsy in comparison). It’s something more. Almost magical.

When we first moved here, we never imagined we’d become part of this wondrous world.

We’re not trying to sell you the miraculous Keralan air, saturated with the scent of cardamom. We’re simply sharing what we see, feel, and experience. These are real-life stories from those who chose to stay in this land. We're not just describing places — we're capturing emotions, impressions, and strange but oddly essential situations we encounter. Not just in Kerala, but across India.

We don’t claim to be great writers, and we’re not in it for the money. But who knows — maybe our humble attempts at descriptive storytelling will help someone better understand this incredible land, where ocean waves whisper to ancient temples and locals offer their genuine smiles to strangers.