Thursday, February 6, 2025
South India and Uttarakhand
Where is my stop?
The next morning, I started trying to figure out where I needed to alight from the bus. Stops are not announced and it seems that people were using Google Maps on their phones to know where and when to get off. This wasn’t an option for me, as I had no network connection, so I tried the next best thing – annoy the driver by asking over and over how long until Thekkemala, my stop. “Is this my stop?” “No.” “Is this my stop?” “No.” “Is this Thekkemala?” “No, two more minutes.” Finally, he turned and said, “this is your stop, sir.” Actually, the driver was very patient with me. Earlier in the night he had made a bathroom stop at my personal desperate, request. “By the way,” continued the driver looking out the windshield toward the curb, “is that your friend?” And there he was, Thomas Mathew (1988 ARI Graduate), waiting by his car. This was the person I most wanted to see in the world at that moment. I had finally made it!
Thomas + Matthew
Over the next three days I will have the privilege of getting to know Thomas Mathew. So packed is his lifetime of working in service to the people, it would be more efficient if I just attached his resume, but I’m not going to do that. I intend to let you learn about him just as I did, by sharing our conversations at the dinner table, in the car, and over cups of masala tea, doing my best to weave all the stories into a big picture.
First off, I shall refer to Thomas Mathew always as “Thomas Mathew.” Not Thomas, Tom, Tommy, or Matt. I never heard him called anything but Thomas Mathew, and so I don’t feel comfortable with anything else. Those that know him might demand I add the well-earned “Dr.” prefix, but I get the feeling he likes to use that only when he needs some extra leverage in dealing with the higher-ups on behalf of the lower-downs. I soon found that the use of two names is not uncommon in India, and I have to admit that it felt pretty cool when Thomas Mathew began introducing me to folks as Steven Samuel.
No beef for India (kind of)
Our first stop on the way to his house instigated the first story. It was a secret butcher shop (kind of). You see, beef has become banned in India (kind of). But this place sold fresh beef from time to time. When it was available, Thomas Mathew would get tipped off by a friend. I’m sure you already know that Hindus don’t eat beef, especially those intimating they are upper class. The thing is that not everyone in India is Hindu. In Kerala almost half the people are not Hindu, and thus might enjoy a little beef curry from time to time. 45% of the population in this state are Christians and Muslims. At one time the Christians slightly outnumbered the Muslims, but this has since reversed because the Muslims have more kids! The current Indian government is Hindu so they say, “no, no” to beef (kind of). I have found “kind of” a useful way to look at things in India. There are no absolutes. It is such a huge and diverse place that if you try to say “this is how it is in India,” you’ll always find a place where it isn’t. So, while beef seems to be illegal in much of India, there are still places where it is perfectly legal, or kind of legal, particularly those states with fewer Hindus. Then there is the fact that huge amounts of beef are raised and butchered for export worldwide, but those cows are spoken of in hushed tones.
Living with trees
My first impression of Kerala was trees; huge trees, everywhere. The buildings and the forest just blend together. “In Kerala, we don’t like to cut trees,” was Thomas Mathew’s simple explanation. Simple and lovely. Let’s do that everywhere! Long ago Thomas Mathew’s father planted a teak forest for his four boys, as his father had done for him. It is a way of investing for your children. Teak takes forty years to mature and is very valuable. Grow your teak alongside your kids, and the kids will have money when they need it for their families. Thomas Mathew, in turn, has planted teak for his children. I often hear about teak forests being cleared by big companies for quick profits, but look, once again we can learn sustainability from long held traditions, for both the forest and the family.
It was only a few minutes through the cool canopy of the jungle to Thomas Mathew’s home, where we were greeted by his wife, Sally, who had prepared a wonderful breakfast of curry and dosa with side dishes of boiled plantain, small sweet bananas, and papaya, all from the garden. Here I got my first language lesson. In this part of India, they don’t speak Hindi. Keep in mind what I said about the diversity of India. No, in Kerala they speak Malayalam. Try reading the word Malayalam backwards. (Hint: It’s a palindrome.)
Malayalam lesson:
Nan’ni – thank you
Namaskaram – greeting (This is a little formal. Most people say “Hello.”)
Pokan – Let’s go!
How many languages in India?
I was curious about how they preserve their language in Kerala, thinking that Hindi was the national language. Wrong! Hindi and English are used for official purposes, but the constitution recognizes no less than 22 regional languages, called “scheduled languages” and Malayalam is one of them. But we can’t stop there. Overall, there are 121 different languages spoken in India, or maybe 720 languages, or perhaps 19,500. It comes down to how you define a language, which is harder than you might think. Most agree that the 19,500 number is referring to dialects rather than languages, but even the difference between a language and a dialect can be disputed. Perhaps the best way I can sum up the situation is to say there are 121 languages spoken in India (kind of) and let you readers dispute this as much as you like.
In Kerala, children begin their schooling in Malayalam. English and Hindi come later in the third and fifth standards respectively. This “three language system” is meant to equip students with communication skills for the local, national, and international level. See how that works? Impressive, if you ask me! From the 11th and 12th standard, the students can choose to take classes in Malayalam or Hindi, and in college it’s all in English! If this doesn’t suit you however, there are certain schools, mostly private, that use only English from the beginning. My apologies for going into the nitty gritty details. I just wanted to shed light on the above question about how Keralites maintain their local language, and the short answer is that the education system supports it. This is not something that can be taken for granted. In many parts of the world, public education us taught in the national or dominant language, and local tongues survive only in the household. This is likely true even for the minor languages in India. As a language buff, which you must know that I am by now, I find profound beauty in each language I encounter, because each one has a slightly different way of expressing how those people see and experience the world.
Takami slept here
Thomas Mathew showed me to my room on the second floor, explaining that it is the same room Takami sensei stayed in twice. He insisted on carrying my suitcase up the stairs for me, and recognizing the significance of this gesture, I let him do so. Takami sensei’s visits meant a lot to Thomas Mathew. In fact, every graduate I have met that received a visit by Takami sensei, has made a point to mention it, such was its importance to them, and honor they felt in it.
