Mallus, Mallus everywhere...!

There is the hackneyed old joke that when Armstrong landed on the moon, he was greeted by... yes maybe you heard that before.

Malayalees flock together  - like birds of a feather - they tend to sense each other from a distance.

In the Maldives when I was standing on the queue at the immigration counter on arrival, I heard Malayalam chatter behind me, presumably Malayalees employed in the hospitality sector. I had small talk with one of them and he turned out to be working in the hospitality sector in a far away Maldives island. The receptionist of the hotel at the isolated Maldives village where I stayed turned out to be a young Malayalee lad.

In the smoking area at Kuwait airport I heard someone who said he was a Maritime engineer boasting in Malayalm about his exploits around the world to another of his brethren as he took swigs of brandy from a flask.

Kuwait was Malayalees everywhere - the hotel attendant was Malayalee, the office driver was a Mangalorean Anglo who spoke Malayalam, the food delivery person was a Malayalee - he lamented sorrowfully as he compared his cramped quarters with the luxurious apartment where we stayed. On my flight to Germany, the elderly Mallu gentleman seated behind me got into an argument with the air crew on his quota of brandy.

The UK was not any short of Malayalees either.

Far away in Nottingham, while on the tram I heard a young lad speaking on the phone in Malayalam about his part time job and how happy he was able to manage it in his free time outside college. I heard Malayalam chatter by young women, obviously nurses as they headed out for their late shifts while on my way to office. The corner store near my apartment run by the Andhra guy had a young Malayalee apprentice lad who actually was willing to trust me with a few pounds when I was short of change.

The thrift store in London where I went to buy an international charger was run by a Malayalee which I was quick to infer from his accent.

The taxi driver who drew me to London from Nottingham on my way back was a long time Malayalee resident in the UK. The list would have been endless had I joined any of those loosely organized Malayalee societies.