Further inland the road started to follow an embankment that ran between fields that were as green as Ireland in the month of May. I was surprised at seeing such lush vegetation given the heat of the sun and the dry air, but the fields were divided from each other not by hedgerows but by deep irrigation channels filled with running water. The water was further distributed by smaller, shallower channels that crisscrossed the area taking precious water to every part of every field.

A fair bit of ingenuity had gone into the creation of this verdant paradise, but the burning question in my mind was where the water was coming from. The nearest hills, the Western Ghats, were far away so I thought it unlikely that rivers from there were feeding the channels. Further along the road I got my question answered. The water was coming from a well, drawn out by a shaduf. Yes a shaduf, okay? One of those contraptions I had spent hours drawing in geography class in 4B thinking to myself “Who cares”? Now I cared. Thank you Mr Barr. This was geography come to life.

A shaduf is basically a big bucket on the end of a long pole balanced on a frame of other poles. The bucket is lowered into a well and the weight at the other end of the pole levers if up full of water. Then the bucket is swung over to the irrigation channel and emptied. The process is repeated and the channel carries the water into the fields and the crops grow. Now I can tell my old school friends if I ever meet them (which is unlikely) that shadufs really do exist. They won’t have a clue what I’m talking about – it wasn’t that kind of school.