Tuesday, 22nd October 1996

Part One: Culture Shock

Cruising at 600mph and 33,000ft above Germany, I am gradually warming to the idea of leaving everything I know and love for the next eight months.

I think that both of us are terrified of the unknown and it is some comfort to know that C. is as nervous as I am. After all the jokes about Gulf Air and Saddam 'n' all that, I've been pretty impressed with the service so far – even showing us Dragonheart instead of Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves or something equally dodgy...

The food's not so bad either.

Wednesday, 23rd October

Madras:

So here we are in Madras, in the Church of South India HQ and although it's 7.45am, we're still on English time (3.15 am!). The heat here is stifling and after a harassing ride through Madras and a spot of rain we're not feeling up to much exploring.¹

We've been given a letter welcoming us and explaining that our train to Madurai is at 12.40, and that's where we'll be met (Madurai or Madras?). Great. We're alone in India and no-one knows what to do with us. Nothing to tell us how to get to the station or anything. It's impossible to sleep. Looking on the bright side, all our stuff is safe so that means we've got more to carry! I think I'll be able to find out what's going to happen to us. Sleep...

...

11:05 Well that's it then, everything's sorted out. We've met the manager of the CSI place and he's organised everything for us. The train journey's 6 hrs and costs twelve quid for the two of us. Eat your heart out BR! Mind you, we haven't seen the train yet. If I don't get some sleep soon I'll start hallucinating...

22:30 Now we're in Madurai, after the worst train journey of my life – nine hours! I've been thinking too much and got incredibly homesick as we headed further into South India. I could see everything drifting away from me, all that I hold dear to me is now thousands of miles and a nine-hour train journey away. After being driven to the train station, we were deserted without knowing which platform to go from, which train to get, what car to get on when it did come and all our luggage piled up for everyone to stare at.

The tickets are incomprehensible, there are too many people and the rush when the train actually arrives is astonishing. The guy in Madras obviously though it would be a good idea to put us in a First Class Air-Conditioned car,² being poor foreigners in strange heat. But the windows are blacked out so it seems like it is dusk and every minute of dark palm trees and rice fields is one minute further from home.

I was crying and I could tell C. desperately wanted to comfort me but I wasn't sharing. It was my own catharsis, my own personal adjustment and I wanted to do it alone. Every few minutes someone comes down the carriage selling tea, coffee and assorted foul smelling foods, with such annoying nasal voices! It was mayhem inside my head, allowing myself to get overwhelmed, I think. I'm trying to absorb everything because it will become my life.

When we reached Madurai we were met by Bishop Pothirajulu who bundled us into a huge black car driven by a weird, grinning man and took us to our Madurai home. I've completely lost my sense of direction...

The heat is sweaty and it's impossible to breathe.

Thursday, 24th October

Madurai:

I'm feeling a bit better now, I think. We enjoyed eating with our hands at lunch – after we'd finally got up that is (about 1 o'clock). We've had to adjust our room slightly to accommodate our mosquito nets. Luckily for C. I'd told him to get one – M.¹ had told him we wouldn't need them.

We had a prayer meeting today and had to walk to someone's house. There's a church team staying here, a group of girls who are here to teach/preach.²

We are staying with a pastor in the Madurai railway workers' colony at the Church Of The Divine Patience, which has services in English. He said that it is a small fellowship – only fifty-five families! Given the extended families over here I wouldn't have said that it was small, but there you go. The food is quite bizarre, but I'm getting used to it. The pastor's wife thinks that I've got a cold because the chilli makes my nose run.

The worship today really helped me and singing a few English songs was quite comforting. Maybe I can teach them some of the ones I brought with me. I tried playing the guitar today but it made me quite nostalgic so I put it away again. M. was wrong about the monsoon as well – we're still in it so everything is covered in mud. It hasn't rained in Madurai yet, but it certainly did in Madras!

I think the not-knowing is what got to me, like the failure I was feeling after university and USPG fuck-ups.³ I don't want to end up in a place with nothing to do or give. Bishop Pothi is hoping to hear about what we want to do and what our aims are! I've got absolutely no idea. I think working with children in the church is my best bet, nicking some of my mum's songs and perhaps writing some of my own. I'd quite like to do some kind of sport, too, if it's possible. C. wants to teach classes but I shy away from that idea; I'm much better in a social situation.

Friday, 25th October

Here's an accommodation update: I'm sleeping on a broken double bed while C. has a metal arrangement with a mattress on top. We have a toilet (not working – using a bucket) and a tap with a couple of buckets for baths. At least it's warm! We're going to see Bishop Pothi today, and hopefully meet an English girl – Nic – whom we met at our training fortnight in Sellyoak. She's here for six months (September to February), so we hope she can help us a bit with how to cope! I'm going to try and fax home today.

Our room is that door at the top...

12:22 (pm). Well no Nic, she'd gone to some festival or other. She is staying at the Tamil Nadu Theological Seminary (TTS) so on the way we had to suffer Rev. Fenn's medical history. Fascinating stuff: they've all had dysentery so we have to drink boiled water. He's also got diabetes and broken his dentures if it's not that, then it's where his dogs go for a shit. The man is barking.

...

18:20 We all went to the Pandyan hotel (Only the most expensive Westerner-friendly, air-conditioned restaurant in Madurai), where we ate an attempted western meal (Hawaiian style chicken), for £3 including soup, fruit salad, and drinks it's not bad. Poor Rev. Fenn was a bit lost with the knives and forks, although he did give it a good try. He just watched C. and me most of the time and was really timid around the Bishop! We have a pretty packed programme for the next month, visiting temples, the Gandhi museum, and a few Indian films. We went out on our own today, and were accosted by several people, including one chap who, when he discovered we didn't want his clothes, offered us the 'best grass in India' and to change our money for us. It was at this point we made our excuses and left.

I'm going to have to use the TTS to fax home, as the phone lines are down and the Post Office is on strike. Sorry Mum and Dad, I'm trying!

India isn't at all bad It's just a matter of knowing where you are going and ignoring everyone else.

Saturday, 26th October

It's Tizwaz day and our day off. We're going to see a Tamil film called 'Indian' (Hindustani, of course!) about slavery in India. Grreat! The post and phone strike's been on for 3 days, Hmm, I wonder if it's us. We're getting severely overfed; so I guess malnutrition won't be a problem. But the water is. We tried to purify some water yesterday, and it turned brown. Maybe today's will work. We could always go and buy some but 'that job's too hard!'

Went to the TTS and there was no one there! So no fax today Mum!

The people don't exactly pester you, but the threat is always there. I feel really conspicuous, especially with this hat (very dodgy, bright and blue from Honduras). Some kids came to talk to us and C. is so tentative and self-conscious they didn't know what to do. I really feel for the guy, he's never been overseas before so he's incredibly shy (more than usual) and so eager to do the right thing that he often loses the plot with whoever he's talking to.

He keeps saying that my family's more interesting than his to avoid talking about them, and refuses to admit that he is good at art. No one will recognise him when we get back because he's bound to come out of his shell sooner or later. I'm not going to carry on making the decisions and all the conversation, from my experience in Bosnia¹ and the fact that here isn't much different from Zimbabwe, I think that I'm getting on okay so far. The kids here are just like in Bosnia and most people speak English. We both reckon that Ramnad's going to be much worse than here. I just hope I've got enough to survive on.

...

Later: The film was fantastic, apparently it was the first time the Bishop had been for ten years! Good Christians don't go to the cinema because it is obviously Satanic. Bishop Pothi is full of the Wonders of Western Civilisation so he doesn't care.

It was about this guy who watches his people being oppressed by the British as a young man and fights against them. It included the famous act of total humiliation where a group of English soldiers stripped some Indian maidens and made them all jump off a cliff (it's true). This hardens his heart and he goes mental, after rescuing one of them, of course! A classic scene: English soldiers are being brutal, trying to force poor women to salute the Union Jack; 'Indian' stands on a rooftop and throws aforementioned flag, pole and all, thus piercing nasty soldier 'Omen'-style through the heart. C. and I were getting quite nervous at the substantial applause that frequently erupted whenever one of our countrymen was killed! Pretend to be French, it's the only way.

The other half of the film was the hero 'Indian' doing weird things with his fingers and killing corrupt politicians. The moral being that he had fought to get rid of the British and was now fighting his own people. The twist comes when he discovers his son has been selling driving licences to all and sundry, thus making him directly responsible for a great many deaths and so must die. Lovely.

It's amazing what you can understand from a lot of violence and a Bishop's translation, isn't it?

Sunday, 27th October

Ha! Morning worship (7.30am) here is just like home, more's the pity. I read the gospel and had no idea what to do when no one responded at the end - they just stood there waiting as if for me to do something else. The service had no theme, and the hymns were completely unconnected with the gospel or the sermon.

The sermon was about families (a world-wide theme at the moment I think) and how a child's discipline begins at home and parents are wrong to attack the teachers. They should get the NUT in on this. He then attacked the teachers for not telling parents when their children were doing well. Hmmm. I'm not sure that with thirty-three staff to 2300 pupils the parent-teacher communication at St. Andrew's (school in Ramnad) will be very good!

Nic was at the service with another European girl (French I think), so we've managed to talk to her and see how she's getting on. She's actually only here for three months – not six as we'd thought - so we'll be deserted in January. She's going to take us to the best tailor here so we can get some clothes copied/made.

Nic is studying at the TTS doing a dissertation on something or other. C. thinks that she's had it much easier than us, because she's in a community away from it all and there are other Europeans there. I disagree with this because at the moment we're pretty much in the same boat as she was three weeks ago.

...

22:09 Just had the evening service and get-together. The service was a nightmare, but afterwards we sang and there was a guy who played guitar! I think C. was a bit isolated but he makes so little effort to talk to other people. Not even the O.M. girls although we get on quite well with them. It should irritate me but it doesn't, yet – I was having so much fun tonight I didn't really care.

Monday, 28th October

Aaargh! C. takes so long in the mornings! He takes ages to get up, then half an hour to get washed. It would be alright if he got up earlier, but he gets up at seven-thirty when breakfast is at eight. This in itself isn't a problem, but he asked for it at eight! They get so worried if we're not there on time and we're still not sure if they like us or not. We're only getting seven hours' sleep at the moment – things end at ten, and it takes me ages to nod off.

We're going to the Shri Meenakshi Temple today!

...

21:00 Wow. That's about all I can say until the photos come out. The temple is massive! We saw the temple elephant 'blessing' people for money. In the museum there was a Hindu priest who followed us round insistently. He rang/played some musical pillars and then followed us out and demanded money! I gave him ten Rupees (about 20p) and ran away. There are a lot of monkeys on the towers, playing and fighting – embodiments of some God or other. Before I forget, there are three main gods: Vishnu the Protector, Shiva the Destroyer and Brahma the Creator.

We've got some Indian clothes ordered, trousers and shirt come to 280Rs – about £5! After that we went to the Hotel Supreme for a meal with Nic. It was full of tourists! They all ate with knives and forks. We didn't. but then I suppose we are here for experience, not tourism. How bad does that sound? Very... There was a pretty amazing view from the roof-top restaurant of the city. From six floors up, if you ignore the huge floodlit temple in the middle, it looks just like any other city.

I gave the fax to some woman in the TTS at lunchtime, but still didn't manage to get through. I left it with her so I hope it gets there.

Tuesday, 29th October

The Rev. has been telling us about a 45-day 'round trip' he can organize with the railway. It means that we can give him names of places we want to visit and he'll organize a tour incorporating them with rail connections between each. Because he is the pastor of the railway colony he can get us a big discount, making the price only about 2000Rs (£40). Accommodation will be another £90, but £130 for six weeks doesn't seem too extravagant. Of course it will be even less if we get sleeper cars and travel at night.

We went to the Gandhi Museum today, saw his house and all sorts of things about his life. Recently I saw Desmond Tutu quoted as saying, 'When people say religion has nothing to do with politics, I ask them if they know what religion is.' In the museum they had Gandhi saying much the same thing. I forgot to take my camera, but Nic took hers so hopefully I can get some of her prints. I've finished my first film so we can find out how good the local printers are.

Rev. Fenn was telling us at breakfast about his church and how he's changed it. Now loads of things are happening – Sunday School, Bible Studies etc, all run by his parishioners. They started a group to play in the services, but it didn't last and the band is now playing for a family choir instead. Maybe I should try to start an alternative worship group to try and entice the youth back to church at home? I doubt if it'd work anyway, I'm scared of them!

22:17 Just had a prayer meeting with the O.M. team. Their leader forced me to sing – she tried to persuade C. too but he was having none of it. The Rev. wants to record me singing some songs so he can teach them to his flock.

Wednesday, 30th October

We visited a Vishnu temple¹ somewhere out in the backwaters of Ramnad/Madurai, amidst coconut groves in a semicircle of forested mountains. Fairly picturesque to say the least, but it was so hot we found ourselves running between shadows (you have to take your shoes off before you go in.

In fact, you have to take your shoes off before you do anything). We weren't allowed into the place of worship itself, but we did get a sneaked view of the solid gold tower above the God's resting place. This god is married and his wife is the ruler. We asked why he was blue and were told that it is because he is the sky and the whole cosmos. And he's married? His wife must have long arms... sorry.

Our companion at the temples and Ghandi museum was a chap called Henry Joe, an amazing character with a lovely voice and very good English. He is an expert on Indian religions and is very good at explaining inter-faith relations, which is good for Christians like us who have been brought up with the 'One Way' mentality. It is part of our 'education' to visit and learn about as many of the local religions as possible, hence Bishop Pothi's commissioning of Henry Joe.

...

The cleaner took away our rotting food – the stuff we were given when we arrived a week ago and still hadn't eaten. When she returned with the Rev.'s wife in tow, we were hugely paranoid as to the extent of her wrath, but C. made up all this garbage about how bread lasts longer in England so now they just think we're stupid. I think that Aunty – as everyone calls her – is enjoying having us to mother, she came in tutting and tidied our room! C. still can't eat rice with his fingers but he's getting there. He's got the trots at the moment and is feeling a bit under the weather.

We had some really disgusting stuff for breakfast this morning which he avoided eating by blaming his stomach. I had no excuse and Aunty just laughed, slapping me soundly on the back, causing me to breathe most of it into my lungs. One way to get it down I s'pose.

Not pleased with M. again – our budget here is about £4/week, adding £120 to our board and lodging. Oh dear. I think that the Rev. is trying to get a donation out of us for his Blind School by telling us how the other missionaries they've had here have given them loads of cash. No chance from us, matey! Maybe I've just misjudged the situation.

The phone and post strike has ended now, but the phone line from here is broken so I still can't get through!

C. has stopped eating. The bastard. Now I have to sample everything while he laughs at the flames coming out of my ears.

Thursday, 31st October

It is beginning to feel as if we are paying to do nothing. Just one programme, a couple of hours each day is what is provided to keep us amused. The rest of the time is just that – rest. Exploring is not something we have given very much thought to. In any case it seems that all the streets are the same, and it is easy to become misplaced.

We have found most of what we need; toilet paper, clothes, washing powder etc. even a bookshop with Michael Crichton! Jackie Collins too, but I suppose her books won't sell anywhere else (unfounded? Not that Mike is much cop!). Everything you need is available but it requires a little patience and a lot of 'no, I don't want any clothes' to find them.

When we went to get some trousers copied for C. we were followed by a tout who jumped in front of us at the last minute and said, There you are, a very good tailor! This with the vague hope that the tailor might be fooled into thinking he'd taken us there and give him a commission. It is infuriating because you have to pay more, but we'd already visited this particular seamster so he was having none of it.

Their persistence makes me want to scream sometimes, they are so desperate for your money! It starts with: What is your good name? and What country you are coming from? Which leads to your age, marital status and job... conveniently this leads to a nonchalant: Oh I am a tailor or I sell drugs and a resounding PO!! from us which means, in no uncertain terms 'go away you horrible little man' or words to that effect.