Let me tease you.
Just before I left, Mom said something almost prophetic.
Completely out of the blue, she said:
“Be careful where you wear your Light on German T-shirts.”
I remember thinking:
Huh?
Where did that come from?
But I didn’t dismiss it. I accepted it.
And this day showed me exactly why she had said it.
She was right.
But first things first.
Punctual as always, Prabhu arrived exactly as agreed. His friend Navil had driven him. Hari went to join Mustafa, as requested. Vichu, Prabhu, Navil and I headed to the place Prabhu wanted to see.
To...
The Beach
After breakfast, we went to one of my absolute favourite places in Kerala.
The fact that I had only managed to come to the beach once—and only very briefly—shows how busy this journey really was.
It’s endless. Breathtaking. And at sunset…
even more so.
For Prabhu, it was hot. Hotter than back home apparently.
I was surprised to hear that. I mean, he comes from only about 300 kilometres away. Shouldn’t he be used to the climate here?
Questions I had. Questions I would understand much better later, once I visited his hometown.
Prabhu’s Quest
Setting sails for Aluva, it took us almost two hours to reach there.
Plenty of time to plan my trip to Tamil Nadu.
We had been talking about this for weeks.
What could we do together?
Until now, it had never really been certain whether I would make it there at all—or how long I could stay.
From the very beginning, I had made one thing clear:
I wanted to see his family and the Palm Leaf Libraries.
Our original plan was to visit Prabhu’s family, find a Palm Leaf Library nearby, and then continue to Chennai—to the place where Prabhu actually works and where I knew for certain that there was such a library.
And now we were actually sitting in the car, trying to figure out what we realistically had time for.
I felt that Prabhu was a little disappointed.
Until then, he simply hadn’t had much time to organise the trip. He had several responsibilities he needed to finish first. On top of that, he wouldn’t be able to spend much time with me because he had to work.
And I think he really wanted to give something back.
When he visited Germany, I had bought him traditional Bavarian clothes, and on two consecutive weekends Hari, Prabhu and I had travelled around together and visited some pretty cool places.
Now he wanted to create the same kind of joy for me.
So he kept thinking. And thinking. And coming up with things he could arrange.
I could travel with him to Chennai, where he would book a hotel for me. Or I could spend a few more days in Ooty—a lush, green mountain region with lakes, red soil and beautiful scenery. Or I could just spend the weekend with him and then continue north.
But I think I made my priorities clear once again:
See his family. Welcome his baby girl. Visit a Palm Leaf Library.
Everything else was a bonus.
Then Prabhu picked up his phone.
“You know what? I think my cousin should be healthy again by now. Let me see whether he can establish contact with the Palm Leaf Library near our place.”
“Near our place? Sounds awesome!” I replied.
After they had spoken, Prabhu already had some initial good news. His cousin was doing well again, and he would call the Palm Leaf Reader. Then he would call us back as soon as he knew more.
Just for reference: It was a Sunday. And somehow, everything still seemed to be open and working.
We continued discussing the plan.
Then I started thinking:
Wait…
If the Palm Leaf Library near Prabhu’s hometown works out, I don’t actually have to go to Chennai, right?
Especially since Prabhu kept telling me how unpleasant Chennai was at that time. Extremely hot. Humid. Dirty air because of all the construction. It sounded far too much like Mumbai. And I really didn’t need that again. Mumbai had already ruined my stomach for days.
Prabhu agreed.
But everything depended on whether the Reader was available.
A couple of minutes later, Prabhu's phone rang once more.
I didn’t understand a single word of the conversation. But Prabhu’s expression changed. From his body language and the way he was speaking, I expected bad news. When he hung up, I was tense.
Then he began:
“Okay, Felix. My cousin just spoke with the Reader…”
Pause.
“It looks like you’re lucky. He still has a slot available next weekend.”
Inside, I was celebrating. Heck yeah! That’s awesome.
Prabhu continued:
“You just need a print of your fingerprint. I’ll discuss it with him and update you on exactly what you need.”
But for Prabhu, that still wasn’t enough. He wanted to do more for me. Throughout the day, he kept coming back with new ideas. At one point, he looked me sincerely in the eyes and apologised.
“Sorry that I can’t be there and do more for you.”
I tried to reassure him that what he had already done was more than enough.
For one person, something huge might mean very little. For another, something tiny might mean the world.
Arranging that Palm Leaf Reading might have been just one phone call for you. But for me, it’s the biggest thing you could have done.
No matter what happened after that: The day was already won.
The wedding was going to be a highlight. The arranged Palm Leaf Reading was a milestone.
Mom’s Foresight
When we reached Aluva, nobody really knew what to expect at Mustafa’s house.
Why exactly were we going there? Would there be food? What was happening?
From what I had understood, we were simply going there casually to support Mustafa before the wedding.
When we arrived, however, there was nervous chatter. Because…
this wasn’t a casual gathering at all. It was an official photo shoot.
And I was wearing my Light on German marketing T-shirt. Immediately, I thought of Mom. She had seen it coming. She just hadn’t been able to stop it.
I rushed over to Hari.
Maybe he still had the polo shirt in the car that I had bought the day before. Buuut…
No. He had taken it out of the car right before coming here.
Nice.
So there I was.
Wearing a wrinkled marketing T-shirt for an official wedding photo.
The only thing that made it slightly better was that everyone except Mustafa was dressed casually anyway.
In a strange positive way, it made Mustafa stand out even more.
But for us there was no other option. We had to go through with it.
I don’t know how the others felt. I felt horribly uncomfortable.
And it didn’t exactly get better when Mustafa saw me.
The first thing he asked was:
“Wait… are you going to use my wedding for that?”
Ouch.
From his perspective, that could look like a huge sign of disrespect. I immediately started stumbling over my words.
“Man, I didn’t know. If I had known, obviously I wouldn’t have worn it.”
The others noticed what was happening. “Oh, come on. It’s fine. We’re not exactly dressed perfectly either.”
But that wasn’t the point. It wasn’t about how I looked. It was about what I was wearing. I absolutely did not want to use Mustafa’s wedding as advertising for Light on German.
Gigantic NO-GO.
And that’s exactly what I told them:
“It’s not about how I look. It’s about what I wear.”
Their reaction saved me:
“Just stand behind us. We’ll cover you. No worries.”
And they did. In the picture, you can’t see the shirt at all. Thanks to Suraj, Prabhu and Durga.
Anyway. Taking the picture didn’t take very long. We were done at Mustafas place. And YET… not everyone was yet fully ready.
Getting Ready
Some of them had to go back to the clothes shop once again. The tailored clothes had taken an extra day to finish.
Most of us didn’t need to go, though, so we went home and relaxed for a little while. We had about two hours and needed to be ready by 15:30.
Fun.
The others hadn’t even made it back by then. Getting dressed, showered etc took a good bit of extra time and guess what.
We were once again super late.
The Wedding
On the way to the wedding, I blew the ladies’ minds by singing their favorite local song Cherathukal.
The infamous Malayalam song that Aswin and I had practised so many times that Hari eventually couldn’t stand hearing it anymore.
Apart from that I can't give you a time when exactly we reached the venue. It was impossible to miss, though.
It’s one of the biggest—if not the biggest—event venues in Kerala. The surrounding streets clearly hadn’t been designed for what was happening there. Thousands of guests were trying to get in. The wedding was literally jamming the city traffic.
This was definitely the biggest wedding I had ever attended. Not that bigger automatically means better.
I enjoyed it, though. There were so many people to meet and talk to. Networking was ridiculously easy, and spending some more time talking with the other Europeans was pretty nice too. But, of course, not everyone goes to a wedding to meet new people.
Here’s a picture of the main hall and the stage, where Mustafa and Kadeeja would basically be trapped for the next couple of hours. Smiling. Smiling. And smiling. The main hall looked more like a cinema. And actually, it wasn’t all that different. Only instead of watching a movie, the action was happening live on stage.
The next picture shows the Western-food hall, with salads and everything else.
Proper salad.
Not yoghurt with pieces of tomato inside that is locally called “salad.” I still shudder when I hear the word.
Actual salad. Iceberg lettuce. Tomatoes. Olives. And so on.
That was new.
In total, the guests were spread across seven or more halls. The place was so enormous that almost everyone actually had somewhere to sit. Here’s one of the four dining halls. Around the central food area were rows of rather fancy tables and chairs. Some halls had food served directly to the tables. Others were self-service.
And just for reference: Renting the venue alone cost several thousand euros. Food per guest was, I believe, around six or seven euros. You can do the math. There are no wedding gifts as well. Do you now know why parents save their whole life for studies and that moment?
It was time for taking our picture. Have you ever wondered what a wedding hall looks like from the perspective of the wedding cake? I assume these are the difficult questions nobody usually answers until someone finally dares to do the impossible:
Hopefully I've put an end to an otherwise deep mystery. Eventually, after waiting in line, we got our picture too.
The disadvantage of such a massive crowd was the lack of real interaction. It felt slightly disconnected. As if we were ordinary guests, just like everyone else. But at least the college friends aren’t really just ordinary guests. They’re family. In my opinion, they deserved a more prominent role. But Mustafa’s and Kadeeja’s parents had organised the entire event, so perhaps other things simply had priority.
Then, rather abruptly, we hurried out.
Even though I was completely exhausted after several insanely packed days and should have maybe been happy to get rest sooner than later, leaving happened too quickly for me. I would have liked to stay a little longer. There were still so many people I could have talked to, laughed with and simply enjoyed the evening with.
But I understood. Half of the group had to travel back to work the same night. And every single one of them had at least five hours ahead of them.
Crazy.
Here, however, travelling distances like that somehow seems normal—even after days as packed as these. Life here can be extreme.
It was a bittersweet moment. Hari’s college family had finally managed to spend some time together. And they had genuinely enjoyed it.
But those moments are limited. And painfully short.
Still, this picture sums it up pretty perfectly:
A smiling Akshay.
Just moments before everyone once again flowed off in different directions.
And with that goodbye, the mood of my journey changed. Light on German needed to move forward substantially.
I had already created interest and found potential students. Now I needed to find potential partners. And learn much more about the reality of German teaching here.
Light and Love, Felix
