um woops

So I realized that the document I once promised to write elaborating on all of the interesting things I learned during my conversation with Mathew at his house in the backwaters and chatting over toddy never got written (notice I'm not mentioning any names here) and also the paper that with reminders of all those interesting facts got lost (again, no names). Thus I am forced to draw a few of the most interesting ones from the recesses of my mind to share.

The backwaters lie 2-6 meters below sea level as it so happens. They are essentially islands even if the water that separates them isn't very deep (and some of it is). In the dry season all is fine and good, there's just enough water to flood the rice paddies and keep the canals wet, but during monsoon season there's a problem. A couple of problems actually. The first is that when it gets wet, the mud the houses are standing on gets, well, muddy and the houses that were built before building techniques were sound (most of the houses) sink a little and then the mud settles back. So all the houses are sinking. Mathew remembers growing up in a house with three steps up to the doorstep; when I was there, there was one. The second problem is that when the land gets so muddy and flexible like that, pieces can actually be lost. If a house owner can prove that a piece of his land floated away he/she can get permission to take some mud and sand and stuff and build it right back up again--this seems like a ridiculous thing to have to do every year, but such is life in the backwaters. In fact there is a whole class of people who's job it is to pile up the mud again after it has slid into the water. The third problem, and the most obvious is flooding. Mathew explained that when it rained, they usually could tell a few hours in advance that the house would flood and would have just enough time to put the furniture up on bricks and roll up the carpets. He and his sister would then sit on the kitchen table and fish. That's not a joke, they could catch fish inside their house! Aren't the powers of human adaptability amazing-- I can't imagine adjusting to this annual routine, but here's a whole group of people who have done just that.

As for the politics portion of our discussion, the recesses of my mind have not retained the clear details of the ins and outs we covered. I do remember, however, being really interested in how much autonomy the state governments have. This was not unexpected--each state has its own feel, its own food, the people have state pride and would consider themselves 'foreigners' in another state, so it makes sense that the governments would be fairly disconnected from each other as well. In fact, the central government doesn't seems to really do much at all; parliament does a few small things, but the president is really just a figurehead and it's left to the states to govern themselves. Kerala is dong particularly well, with a 99% literacy rate, great education system, progressive views toward women, it's no wonder travelers love their time there.

The other main topic I picked Mathew's brain about was the healthcare. It seems that unlike the people in less developed areas, Keralans reserve Ayurvedic treatments for less serious ailments and persistent but minor problems that are more likely to be helped by herbal medicine and use western medicine for serious illness and acute treatment--a nice blend in my opinion.

The rest of the details of our talk are either forgotten or would be too mundane to discuss here, but it was a lovely and informative couple of chats and it's a nice memory. (Mathew and I are still in touch by email and I hope that continues for many years.)