Life in Kerala- A Sunday Morning
If you go down to the beach in Kerala on a Sunday, you can be sure that you will not be alone. We arrived at Cherai Beach at dusk to be greeted by hoards of Keralites enjoying a family day out. Just off the beach the police were at their authoritative worst trying to filter the traffic through a desperately narrow bottleneck. Meanwhile, the activity pattern on the beach seemed to cover an entire spectrum with teenagers fiddling with their mobile phones, parents chasing down their children, and some adventurous souls, including a couple of nuns, who were enjoying the thrill of leaping over the incoming breakers. It all added up to a kind of hazy and yet organised anarchy. There was nothing to be done but to surrender to the spirit of the Sunday morning and have a quick paddle in the surprisingly warm water.
Sunday remains a family day for many, and for others it’s the day to partake in a plethora of activities. This lends it a slight unpredictable edge. In the space of five minutes we witnessed flamboyant whirling dervish dancers and bare chested drummers leading a celebration, and an elephant mooching down the street with its handler. Aji (our driver) explained to us that the festivities were a procession by the Ezhava community. This one had a definite yellow theme to it. There was an unsaid discipline in the functioning of this procession. It appeared to us as if there was a requirement for the bulk of the procession to wait patiently behind a banner until the dancers and drummers had blessed the forward path for them. The drumming became increasingly frantic and the dancers maneuvered the huge plumes of fake flowers (something we see a lot of in Kerala) that extended from a cage like structure on their shoulders with great grace. Everything seemed to be building to a crescendo as bodies spilled onto the main road and bystanders responded by halting the traffic.

The Dilemmas of the Youth in Kerala
Enthused by the energy of this procession, we decided to be on our way and turned to run, only to bump into the elephant. After negotiating our way past the huge loafing mammal we had barely reached cruising speed when we were stopped by a couple of inquisitive youngsters on a bike. One is particular, Anil, was very articulate and full of questions for us. At first we answered queries about our careers and explained why we were running around in Kerala. Curiosity got the better of us and we turned to question their aspirations. A doctor or perhaps a mariner to command a ship as captain was the prompt response. Our assessment summed them up as both being pretty weighty and heavily reliant on continuing an education and achieving consistently high grades.

A recurring theme we have encountered on our travels has been education and work opportunity. Kerala is very proud of its education record with claims of having achieved 100% literacy. This still represents an impressive achievement by a State where its people takes education seriously. Induction rates into schools are impressive, but we also heard numerous stories about the high dropout rates after 10th grade.

Is there an over emphasis on academic achievement? In comparison to other parts of India that I know of, Kerala certainly seems to have a higher prevalence of academically qualified graduates. One of the obvious reasons for dropping out is quite simply because people need work, to support their families.

It however seems that sometimes education is something to be desired in itself, and not always because of its practical use in the job market. The financial rewards of continuing with education don’t seem obvious. We met a bus driver with two postgraduate degrees and have heard of a tourist chauffeur company, where the drivers are required to have a master’s degree. Companies and employers often use a certain level of education in order to shortlist candidates, even where the education received is irrelevant. Clearly Kerala has a highly (and perhaps disproportionately) competitive job market.

It might be said that Kerala’s population in some respects are over educated and over qualified. Kerala also has the highest suicide rates in India, which possibly reflects the mismatch between education, aspirations and work opportunities. Would it make more sense to have an education system that also places an emphasis on vocational training?

Would it make more sense to have an education system that also places an emphasis on vocational training? Why hasn’t Kerala made the most of the IT boom like its neighboring state of Karnataka? Are the aspirations in terms of academic achievements misplaced? Do ideas about aspirations relating to education need to change in Kerala?

Please let us know your thoughts and ideas on the discussion forum.

Dan and Rahul

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