Thampi, our guide, wore his woven cotton mundu in the correct and respectful way, according to etiquette, full length down to his ankles - he was addressing a mixed bag of tourists, both men and women, foreigners as well as a group of young men from Delhi, who were visiting Kerala for the first time. We were doing the 'Backwaters', comfortably seated in cane armchairs in our woven palm houseboat, being punted by a man who wore his mundu in working fashion, folded in half to reveal his thin legs.
Thampi kept up a running commentary explaining the indigenous fauna and flora with the authority of one who had grown up in these parts. Like a school teacher, he repeated everything, in case we hadn't understood the first time - as we punted through wide tracts of water and then narrow channels, carving our way through thick vegetation. He pointed out water snakes, before they slid away, he knew the names of all the trees, pointing out the 'suicide fruit', hanging jewel like and inviting, like a ripe mango, but deadly poisonous, if eaten ! We stopped to watch lime being extracted from mussel shells and local river folk making fibre rope. Thampi kept us endlessly amused....Kerala with its tradition of communism, has the highest rate of literacy in India. However, the young men from Delhi, were growing increasingly restless and demanding - our guide remained as polite as ever, until eventually his patience snapped and he turned to them with great dignity and said in a low voice, annunciating each word with care: "I am here to serve you on this trip, but I am not your slave !"
Thampi kept up a running commentary explaining the indigenous fauna and flora with the authority of one who had grown up in these parts. Like a school teacher, he repeated everything, in case we hadn't understood the first time - as we punted through wide tracts of water and then narrow channels, carving our way through thick vegetation. He pointed out water snakes, before they slid away, he knew the names of all the trees, pointing out the 'suicide fruit', hanging jewel like and inviting, like a ripe mango, but deadly poisonous, if eaten ! We stopped to watch lime being extracted from mussel shells and local river folk making fibre rope. Thampi kept us endlessly amused....Kerala with its tradition of communism, has the highest rate of literacy in India. However, the young men from Delhi, were growing increasingly restless and demanding - our guide remained as polite as ever, until eventually his patience snapped and he turned to them with great dignity and said in a low voice, annunciating each word with care: "I am here to serve you on this trip, but I am not your slave !"
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