Lungi, Not Dr. Murungi

I decided I really wanted a lungi, the long skirt-like articles of clothing worn by many of the men here in Kerala, because they look really comfortable in the heat and humidity. My first mistake was trying to get one in the more touristy Fort Kochi; my second mistake was asking right off the bat if the tailor had any. All of my previous haggling experiences had been fun and successful because I pretended to not be very interested in what I was buying. He started me off at about six and a half times the going rate for a lungi, and wouldn't budge much lower than six times. I should have just walked out, like I had done a few times before to get the prices I had wanted, but I was absolutely sick of jeans. I think maybe he was also worried that if he cut the price too much for me in front of the two annoying women from Maine that were in the shop, he wouldn't be able to get much out of them; they looked ready to spend quite a bit, too.



But it was certainly worth it; the lungi was my golden ticket into the hearts of Keralans.
Sure, they all stare and smile, but now people are constantly talking to me and giving me far more information than I had ever hoped for. "Hey, Kerala-style! Looking good! Namaskaaram (like namaste but Malayalam: I recognize the self in you, or as we say instead, hello)!" A simple stroll around the residential neighborhood we are staying in netted a Muslim friend Jamar, and today on the ferry to Ernakulam I made a friend in Naran, a sales/marketing fellow working for Nestle. Together with the information from Sheeba and Shaabi, the Christian owner and the "boy" of the hotel we are staying at, Naran was able to give us the low-down on the where-to-go in Ernakulam. There I got three lungi that were super cheap and actually in style. Shaabi and Naran have also been helping me with my Malayalam vocabulary and grammar.

The tourists continue to act like they own the place, clogging the streets and mouthing off, Sarina keeps getting lost and losing rupees, and the thunder here is the loudest I have ever heard. Oh, I forgot that Kerala has two wet monsoons instead of one wet and one dry; the second is gearing up now. Flooded open sewers are as disgusting as they sound.