Well I found out what today would bring and it was bloody exhausting too!
Today was probably the first day that I'd woken before Ajeesh: he told me he usually wakes at 6.30. However today I was vertical by 8 am while he didn't surface until 8·30. I'm not sure what time we headed out to the 'fields' - I think it was 9·30 but certainly before 10. There we met his neighbour, Santosh, who is helping farm some land owned by Ajeesh's sister Ajitha and her husband. Her husband is also called Santosh but he works in a restaurant. I'd met him but couldn't remember his face so put this Santosh and Ajitha together, much to everyone's amusement.
The land we were working on is at the foot of a slope, just above a tiny stream and about 25 metres down a muddy path from the main path/track. This piece of land is dotted with banana plants and other trees but neighbour-Santosh had yesterday done a lot of work, clearing the undergrowth and digging some holes in which cardomom plants would eventually be grown. These holes are about 4 feet wide by 4 feet back by up to 2 feet deep and require a lot of work: there were many more to dig.
At first Ajeesh used a mambati tambar (long-handled spade) to mark out the area of each hole and start it off; then I used another mambati tambar to dig the hole to the right size and depth; then Santosh made the walls vertical and the floor flat using a koryi tambar (short-handled spade). This system worked up to a point - I'd got better at manipulating a long implement - but it was still hard going, even after Ajeesh tried to teach me the finer points of mambati tambar wrangling.
About 10·30, Jaya called us in for breakfast: puttu ('rolls' of coconut and rice powder steamed in aluminium tubes [oops here comes Alzheimer's!]), boiled tapioca and pickles). I was quite dirty, having given up on my sandals early on. The feeling of dirt trapped between my feet and the sandals and the clumsiness to which it led were far from fun.
After breakfast, we went back to the field and tried a different system: Ajeesh and Santosh marked out holes while I used the koryi tambar to deepen and finish them. So I'd finish a hole in the time Ajeesh finished two but my holes looked quite good! Also I found it much easier to lift soil out of the hole with the koryi tambar - I could get it full of soil and then use my hand on the koryi tambar's heel to lift and throw the soil. I also found that I could get more leverage if I sat on the edge of the hole and chopped away at the side opposite me. This did have the unfortunate effect of making it look as though I'd had horrendous diarhoea.
I think I'm was eventually responsible for 10 cardomom-plant holes and felt for the first time in days that I'd earned my stay here. I was utterly exhausted by the time Jaya called us for lunch (rice, sambar, more tapioca and coconut & jackfruit-seed curry) and found it difficult to summon up the energy to lift the food into my mouth. I also had only two tiny injuries
By the way, the knives used for such tasks, for cleaning tambars and even for cutting up paan, 'boost' and many other tasks are called something like oo-arr-kutty.* The curved design means that it's difficult to cut yourself when cleaning spades and that you'd be really unlucky to get cut if one fell on you. Bruised: yes; but cut: probably not.
*There are two other names - I didn't hear clearly enough to write them down.
To keep myself going, I sang bits of Holidays in Cambodia, especially
Well you'll work harder with a gun in your back
for a bowl of rice a day.
Playboy soldiers strum on guitars*
and then your head's skewered on a stake.
*The official version is 'Slave for soldiers til you starve'
and adapted a hymn when Ajeesh brought some tea from the house
Give me chai in my cup - keep me working
Give me chai in my cup - I pray
Give me chai in my cup - keep me working
Keep me working till I fall down dead.
Sing 'Khardum chaya'
Sing 'Khardum chaya'
Sing 'Khardum chaya'
To Camilla siniensis-parker-bowles
There was another Bruce-mangling of a hymn but I forget what it was. (This is probably a good thing.) Oh well, I seemed to amuse Santosh and Ajeesh - he even tried to adapt Holidays in Cambodia to Holidays to Nedumkandam!
After lunch neither Ajeesh nor I were fit to carry on. I did feel better for working, however: a bit more honest and my lungs were busy getting rid of the last of the green yuck. So after Ajeesh had showered, we went to town. Ajeesh met with the boys in Shaji's office while I bloogeg, although I waited for about an hour for power to return. During the wait, I talked with Mr Ozhathil and his sons. Mr Ozhathil was keen for his sons to learn correct English pronunciation and I was happy to help if I can. When requested, I also explained the differences between England, Britain and the UK!
I learned that tomorrow Ajeesh would drive someone to Kollam (aka Quilon). I felt I should stay and plant cardomom in the holes I dug. However that depended on Gopalakrishna, Santosh or someone else being available and willing to tell me what to do. I was very aware that for them, this was no game, no matter how much they joked and laughed. This tiny-scale farming was a major part of the family's income and I wanted to get it right so that they get crops from the work I did and so that I hadn't been making my back ache for no reason!
Somewhere in the middle of it all, Ajeesh asked me how British people farmed their land. My answer was 'Most don't! We're very urbanised and farming is mechanised so that tiny numbers of people work large areas of land. The nearest most of us get to farming is a garden with a lawn and a few flowers or maybe an allotment.'
On hearing about my digging efforts, DS said that I was a true proletarian. We chorused 'they nothing left to lose but our chains.' I realise I'm not - I'm firmly middle-class and so will be up against the wall when the revolution comes. (Does that make me a mindless jerk, Mr Adams? Probably no because I haven't yet worked for the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation.) However, I have a brand-new respect for the horny-handed sons of toil. It's still a disgrace to our species that, nearly 200 years after Messrs Marx and Engels wrote their little book, that such labour is still so poorly paid and such people still have such poor living conditions.
At the cybercafé, Abin told me it was his 15th birthday. The tradition here is to give sweets to your friends on your birthday, so I felt honoured when he gave me a sweetie.
On the way back to the house, Ajeesh and I stopped at the small chai-stall/general store. There was an argument when Ajeesh spotted a man whose young son threw stones at his car, causing Rs7000-worth of damage. (This necessitated the service that caused Ajeesh to be away when I arrived in Nedumkandam.) The father had offered neither apology nor a hint of restitution.
As we parked, we were invited to a house where a son was to get married tomorrow. We were stuffed with rice, poppadums, dahl and pickles, event hough I was already full from eating at Mini's café. maybe being too full was the cause of me sleeping poorly that night.
© (except the blatantly ripped-off bits) Random Bozo 2006