Thursday 2nd January

Monday was a day of doing nothing, Mrs Juliet came and said she'd help me buy some Saris and jewellery. She's so glad that we're here, won't shut up about us at home apparently and is desperate to help. So I issued our demands.

We demand India, right? None of this computerised plastic rubbish and bad shirts. We want artists, musicians, drama, dance and recipes!¹

She said she'd see what she can do.

Tuesday was pretty much the same, but we went to Veerambal (Kumar's native village) in the evening. I think I've worked out how I can survive without screaming on the buses - by sitting in the middle! The roads are only just wide enough to a fit a bus on so whenever the driver avoids a pothole / other bus / lorry etc, he has to go off the road, which makes you see everything from a different angle.² I spent the whole journey back from Veerambal last week with my eyes tightly closed as I prayed desperately and pretended I was on a motorway in England. The darkness didn't help, we seemed to be driving at random and I was sitting by the window so every time the bus tipped I thought it was all over. So I sit in the middle because when the bus tips over you don't notice so much.

We stayed with Pastor Muthaya Devanesam, sharing a mattress with a gorgeous furry blanket from Saudi Arabia. Kumar carted us off to the 'Posh House' whenever we needed the loo until we discovered the pastor has actually got his own toilet and we used that instead. It's a hole in the ground, shaped with cement and populated by big light brown cockroaches that scuttle away when you shine the torch at them. But it was so much more convenient.

There was a service at eleven-thirty until one, for which we wore our dhotis. They brought some chairs out for us but as no-one else had them we sat on the floor. All Tamil again and I became deeply engrossed in a grasshopper that was trying to climb the wall next to me. Its feet kept losing their stickiness and it either fell down to start again or stopped to lick the stickiness back on. My concentration was finally broken when it flew away to try somewhere else. There were some birds (black-capped tits, I thought), a squirrel and lots of mosquitoes and other insects. We had communion - the chalice had a little spout to pour the grape juice in your mouth. No contact, remember? When we went in at eleven-thirty no-one was there, but by one o'clock it was so packed there were about forty people who had to sit outside. The pastor had a service in another village at three, then at nine-thirty.

We spent the morning watching the cricket and I met another lovely girl who gave me her silver cross and said, please don't forget me. I didn't know what to do and gave her a friendship band to which she said I will keep this as a token of your love! She really was lovely though and called Priya. I don't know she must have liked my lunghi.

Most of the time we were sitting around and enjoying the cool weather. We went for a walk and I had to ask C. to slow down because he always rushes off. There's no need to, we have all the time in the world and it's all so wonderful. Everyone was working very hard in the fields and the atmosphere was just perfect. I loved every minute of it, sucked it all in and was sorry to have to return to the village for the New Year ceremony.

The whole village (except those who were working) marched to the pastor's house with music and bangers. They were supposed to be presenting the pastor with a lamp. A lamp that turned out to be a large bowl filled with fruit and garlands. At the parsonage everyone sat down and the elders presented us with garlands then took it in turns to give us fruit, namaste, then take it all back again. A real village welcome. At last. There were more songs, speeches and one old man who was so quiet all the women started talking over him. So the men couldn't hear anyway and shouted at the women to keep quiet. They got bored of shouting at each other and started shouting at the old man instead. Then they all clapped to try and make him finish and laughed when he didn't. It was quite nasty really. The village is divided politically and one of the women who spoke talked about unity in the community. This sparked off a huge argument which went on for hours afterwards.

We went to Kumar's house to play cards because you're not allowed to play games in the pastor's house. It's something to do with God and prayer, I think. Kumar's dad was so impressed with Gin Rummy (or sick of it) that he gave us his cards! Something else we can fight about when we leave.

Later on in the evening there was an Entertainments Programme featuring local dance troupe The Negro Boys who were incredibly good. They did all sorts of routines including some hilarious ones in drag. there were more speeches from a member of the village who's just finished an MCom (Master of Commerce), the DMK candidate and another 'unity' one. There were a lot of very funny ones from villagers, which was a shame because we couldn't understand any of them! They kept running up and giving money to the dancers, grabbing them halfway through a routine. A First Standard boy was doing this amazing dance and it was all they could do to stop the people mobbing him.

We sat with some new friends, including a chap called Joel who I got on extremely well with. He lives in Saudi and is doing a Tamil language degree in Madurai next year. We talked about loads of things, like superstars. They turn their film stars into heroes and everything they get up to is followed by millions. Like music in England. It took me a long time to explain that we don't know what goes on in India in England. He asked me if I knew some musician and I didn't so he asked me if I knew what a symphony was. He couldn't understand it because this bloke's had a world-wide record. India IS the world and what's important here must be important everywhere. Sorry to burst your bubble mate, but we don't know. Like you don't know who the Beatles are. Like Indians are only interested in India (most of them) and we're only interested in England. I didn't care for India at all until I knew I was coming here! Now of course, I'm loving it.

We also talked about accents and pronunciation. He asked me what's the atmussaffa in England? The what? It means situation - hot, cold. Never heard of it. It's an English word! No, it's not. He began to spell it and slowly I understood.

ATMOSPHERE! Why didn't you say so? I then taught him how to say it properly and he insisted that all Indians said 'Atmussafa'. it's the accent, he explained. Well only Indians would understand you! So I explained how Indians speak differently accent-wise but you still have to get the words right.

All in all a great New Year, and now we're looking forward to the term starting on Monday. I'm still hoping something will grab me, but if not I'm sure my music will be okay. I saw a gorgeous Indian shawl today, must buy it tomorrow.

Saturday 4th January

I've been having a few bad nights lately, being incredibly hot then waking up and shivering for the rest of the night. But still feeling hot. It was only yesterday that we got a thermometer off Yesu's mum and found out that my temperature was 104 Fahrenheit! At the hospital it was 102 and after two hours I got to see the doctor. I had malaria for half an hour until a blood test decided that it wasn't. Probably. He gave me some paracetamol and horrible green things. The pretty nurse was there again which somehow made it all seem worthwhile. Jasmine's (Kumar's cousin) sister works there too. I wonder...

Yesterday was pretty routine, except that C. thought it was Saturday and panicked about his lessons. I'm going to accompany him at first because he'll be doing games. I'm still looking though. Everyone I talk to about it says oh yes, that's a good idea, and doesn't suggest anything. Maybe there isn't anything.

Yesu's dad had cable installed, which was funny because the power was off all afternoon. Yesu was hugely excited about the whole thing and we teased him mercilessly. I watched Tom and Jerry this afternoon!

Mrs Juliet invited us to her house for lunch - we had fried rice, chicken gravy, fried chicken, potatoes/carrots/cabbage and gulab jamun (lovely sweet pudding). we went two hours late because she was expecting us and we were expecting her. She asked Yesu, Jerry and his cousin to take us at twelve. They didn't, but we got there and the chicken gravy wasn't what we expected at all. When she'd mentioned it I though Oh no, standard South Indian Chicken Mank with no chilli and that mysterious ingredient that makes it unpalatable. Thankfully, I was wrong. She fussed over us, worrying as she went. She hadn't cooked enough, she said. She wanted to do other things, but hadn't had the time. When we didn't eat it all it wasn't good enough and she needed reassuring. She's got quite a big collection of spices and I've asked her to write down their names so I can find out what they are in English. I also asked for some recipes, like the chicken masala that actually tasted like 'curry'.

We saw the nearby school - very nice and an ancient palace now all overgrown. They're scared to knock it down because it's so old and there's supposed to be a tunnel leading to some 'faraway place'. It'll make some great pictures.

There was a guy at Veerambal who talked to us for quite a while when we were collapsed lethargically on the veranda. He discovered that I was the son of a priest and asked me to preach to the village at the presentation! Well I MUST be wanting to follow in my father's footsteps, keeping up the good work! No chance, I said and we had quite the discussion about why I'm such a heathen child. It was getting pretty frustrating until C. dived in and explained about God-given talents and how we all have different ones and I don't have the gift of preaching. David's gift is music, C. explained, blissfully unaware of the deep hole he'd just dropped me into. So you'll do a song instead then? A good Christian song... By now of course, I didn't much feel very good, Christian or at all like 'doing' a song. I had a cough coming on as well - it's true! - one of those breathy-throaty ones that interrupts you when you talk. I feel like I'm getting asthma, I certainly hope I'm not!

We changed the subject and he began telling us why he was really talking to us. Theirs is an SPG church and while he was in Madurai, Bishop Newbiggin had had a soft spot for Veerambal. He felt deeply for their problems in the caste war and visited them often. He arranged a link which got them some donations from England. Since he left, links with USPG have been broken and this chap wants us to start them up again. They want to extend the church and get power for the whole village. I suggested writing to them and he said he would but he wanted us to write as well and be the go-betweens. We'll see. It would be good for them if it works, for the village and for us. At least we'd be able to say we did something.

He also talked to us about Hinduism, telling us that they worship Lucifer as one of their Gods and worship their own parents when they die. This gave us a very bad impression of Hinduism, changing our minds about it until we asked Muthu and he said it wasn't true. Then we changed our minds about the bloke who told us. Muthu told us he is a closet Christian when we were talking about his latest pilgrimage to Kerala. So he's a Christian Hindu rather than a Hindu Hindu. They do have some nasty social habits though. Like a wife isn't allowed to sit at the same level as her husband. If he sits on a chair, she sits on the floor. When he stands up, she must stand up. More Indian things...

We saw Mrs Juliet's wedding photos and she didn't look happy at all. She was smiling in only two pictures, when she was greeting guests. She said it was because she didn't know him and she didn't talk to him for two days afterwards! He sat her down and she discovered that he was actually quite nice and began to like him. I still can't understand these arranged marriages - I could never marry anyone I knew didn't really want to marry me. How can your parents choose your perfect life-partner? For us in 'The West', your parents don't have much say in your life past eighteen. Or sixteen. Or twelve. That part of your life, anyway. I would never do anything without my parents blessing though. It works In a Way over here but I bet there's a lot of unhappy marriages that people can't get out of. Things are looking up in the villages - in the paper today a man tried to murder his wife because the dowry wasn't big enough. The villagers told the police who didn't arrest him, so they held a big protest and pelted the police with stones. The bloke still wasn't arrested, but three of the crowd were. At least the police are working then.

We're going to start our own worship group soon and I hope it works because I'm tired of Tamil services.

Monday 6th January

Now the hard work really starts. I went with C. to Schwartz Matriculation this morning taking VIIIa and VIIb. I still didn't really do anything and will probably only go this week, after which I'll hopefully have found somthing else. We've spent so much time doing so little that I don't really feel like doing anything anymore! I must though, I'm sure I can get into a routine. We're looking for things to do at weekends, like going to Kodaikanal, Conban valley, Cape Comorin etc. The Conban Valley project is a Christian Mission station with Real Missionaries! C. chatted to one of the missionaries in Madurai who invited us to visit.

The HM at Schwartz Matriculation said that they don't want us to do anything after February because everyone will be revising for the March exams. Great. This cuts us down to seven weeks and means we'll have to find something to do for two weeks in March.

We talked to the HM at Schwartz Boys' and told him we weren't getting anywhere and always ended up talking to the same group of people. We told him about their lack of interest and cooperation. We said that they were just using it to skive studying and for the most part ignored us during the sessions. He said that he'd known this after the first two weeks and was glad that we'd brought it up so he could do something about it. So no more Schwartz! Muthu asked C. to teach him English and I'm sure a couple of others will come to, but all that can be done at our house.

I was feeling pretty homesick yesterday but it took me a while to work out why. I just had this depression. I think if I got some post I'd cheer up a bit because it's like talking to home. Today it was okay because we've been doing things. In the afternoon I taught Mrs. Juliet's choir 'Father God I Wonder' and they are going to sing it in assembly tomorrow. I think it will be quite difficult to teach them to sing harmonies, but I'll start with simple two-part choruses and we'll work up from there.

At St Andrews we talked about festivals - Christian, Hindu and Muslim. It took them ages to work out what Christmas celebrated which is a good reminder that we're not in (Kansas) a Christian country anymore. Mind you, most kids in England wouldn't know. They drew us some of those amazing patterns you see outside people's houses during festivals.

Wednesday 8th January

I just want to get away from him, just for a moment. He's driving me insane with all his petty niceties. Why does he have to be so cutesy and use words like 'sweet' and 'cute'? Why CAN'T we have basil chicken, onion, garlic and herb sauce with potatoes? WHY can't I argue with him without him going all sensitive and defensive? This is the biggest problem. I quite like arguing and discussing things using observations, logic and reason. C. takes it all personally. He sees it as me being vindictive, but generally I'm just arguing out of interest, or boredom. Why do you think that? Prove it to me. It's a darn sight more interesting than just agreeing with each other all the time.

I don't know why I bothered to go to classes this week, he never listens to anything I suggest anyway. I can see where he's being misunderstood so I thought it would be helpful if I told him. The trouble is, he’ll end up saying well YOU do it then, and then we’d see. Then there’d be a reckoning. I know what one should say, how things should be explained, how the games are relevant, but get me up there in front of those kids and it all goes out the window. I could help him with things, but I don’t think he’d want me to. It would offend him as well. So how can I get away? How can I leave it all behind and do something more interesting?

Thursday 9th January

And so it happened that C. could do whatever the fuck he wanted. I'm not going to get involved. This time I can't be faint-hearted. I must bury my feelings / opinions / ideas and let him get on with it. I'll just stay at home and cook shall I? No. I'm going to get hold of the hospital jeep and drive off into the outback while he's slaving over a hot classroom. Whatever I do I'll enjoy it and anything will benefit me because I'm in India! The Lonely Planet guide says that Tamil Nadu is the 'most Indian' part of India. It’s uninfluenced by the Aryan meat-eaters or the Muslim and Moghul invaders. It's Hindu architecture is at it's most vigorous (mud houses that fall down after ten years?) and even the British influence was a minor one. Not the impression we got, it has to be said. We need to visit more places.

We got quite a few invitations from the girls last night for the Pongal (harvest festival) celebrations. Apparently Christians don't celebrate it and it would be rubbish in Ramnad anyway. The festival is Monday to Thursday next week and Schwartz Matriculation have two days holiday. The other festival that starts next week is Ramadan – the Muslim festival of starving yourself for a month. One of the girls is going to explain it to us next week.

It's so frightening not knowing what you're going to be doing. I know I've said it over and over but everyone I want to talk to keeps being out and they're all working now. The Rameswaram bloke is never in so I can't talk to him. I wish I had some letters from home for comfort! I've been trying to find out if there's anything Ramnad 'needs' but there doesn't really appear to be. Not anything they'd continue with after I'd left apart from the choir. So I'm still looking...

We went to see '[imdb:Congo]' on Tuesday night, which was fairly exciting, even though we couldn't hear half of it! The Indians love adding their own sound-effects – something I'll probably become accustomed to then miss back in England!

Friday 10th January

Finally the cogs are turning! We went to see the Rev yesterday evening and presented him with our questions: places to go at weekends, visiting other churches, church projects, hot water at home, Pongal and hospital jeep? The Rev surprised us by being very sensible, probably because his wife was there and he said he'd see what he could do about getting me some kind of support job. As for places to go I think we've got it pretty much sorted now but I thought we’d better ask in case he had any other ideas.

The pump in the hostel isn't for making hot water! It's just a pump, which would explain why water pours out of the tank when we switch it on. The hospital jeep was in an accident so I can't drive it – that's one escape plan down the tube! The Rev surprised us even further by actually offering to take us to some Hindu villages during Pongal! That's where the real fun will be. We'll see, anyway.

I got some post! A card and a letter from some nutter.¹ One of the last people I expected to hear from but it was welcome having fresh, lively thoughts sent to me. Not much to show for two weeks though, two letters! Still homesick.

I got on with C. quite well today, but last night got annoyed with him telling Yesu and Kumar about sex talks with his parents. Nice that you had such a conventional upbringing, dear. It's like we're in constant competition with each other. So I never had that 'little chat' with my dad. So what? I never wanted one! Why do I feel I have to keep justifying my life to him? I think my childhood was pretty good. So I had few friends, but that doesn’t matter now. This doesn't matter. I must stop rising.

This morning I did 'Father God' with the choir before the assembly. We'd done it on Tuesday and the HM liked it so much she thinks the whole school ought to learn it! This week I did four practices and have taught them two songs. I asked Juliet if I could have more children² and as yet I haven't had the same group twice! It's amazing the number who have turned up to learn new songs. Yesu came, and is a terrible singer, but he's never sung before so we let him stay! I think I'll end up with a choir of about twenty / thirty. What fun. I've been singing with a cough though, which isn't really a very good idea.

Each morning before school, all the classes below Sixth Standard line up in front of the main building. The choir (or others) sing a worship song, they are led in prayer and then recite the National pledge. It's all very routine – the HM says Good Morning Children, they say Good Morning Teachers and everyone riots. The staff have their own prayer meeting, praying for each other's work, tenth and twelfth standards' exams in March and other Important School Things. Such devotion would be laughed at in an English school. I can't imagine my teachers having a group prayer every morning!

Mrs. Juliet asked me to call her Just Juliet this morning, which was strange because Indians don’t usually use their first names. I think 'Akka' (older sister) would be more appropriate from an Indian point of view. At Kiruba Teacher's house we talked about names and they said we should call them 'aunty' and 'uncle', or 'annan' and 'akka'. We told them all about the concept of 'first name terms' in England.

Kiruba Teacher's mother lives with them and is treated so strangely. She doesn't eat with them because she's 'the wife's mother' and he doesn't even talk to her. She does most of the cooking and usually sits on the floor, belching. We asked why she wasn't eating and Kiruba said she's got work to do! Something's awry with the 'respect' system I do believe. So anyway, David uses Kiruba's first name, but he is 'The Husband', 'Him Over There, 'The Dark Half'. In villages the wife won't even mention her husband's name but will say things like it rhymes with Rattle (Patel).

Saturday 11th January

Today was a great lie-in day, it rained most of the night and morning and we ignored everyone outside clamouring to be let in. we shouldn't have done, because at twenty to one, Yesu brought our breakfast round! Apparently the HM had sent Jerry round at eight but we were asleep. We'd already eaten eggy dosai and Wheat Flakes so we weren't that desperate for more! Juliet sent some weird stuff round – a mix of orange and banana which had been thrown in a blender. It tasted horrible so that's more wasted food. I'm not very happy because I like having Wheat Flakes for breakfast¹ and boiled vegetables for lunch. It's the evening meal we want people to cook for us! And the odd lunch.

When school finished at four, Yesu and Muthu took us to the beach. We took a bus – more white-knuckle riding, then had to hire some bicycles to go four kilometres to the sea. It was fantastic cycling into nowhere while the sun began to set. C. and the others went swimming while I went searching for coral and shells. It was so quiet and peaceful, with a beautiful sunset in just the right place on the curve of the beach. The sea was very clean and it was a thoroughly enjoyable outing, so good to get away from Ramnad. When we returned, we had parcels waiting for us – music for me and food for C. It's so good to get things, back home they can't realise how good it is.

Monday 13th January

We actually managed to go to church yesterday and took our bibles with us so we wouldn't get bored. We really ought to learn the Lord's Prayer in Tamil at least so we could join in somewhere. They all use two verses from Collosians or something to end every prayer meeting, which would probably be good to learn as well.

We had chicken in a tomato and basil sauce with mashed potatoes and carrots for lunch! It was quite amazing.

In the afternoon we went to the beach again, earlier this time so we had longer to swim and build sandcastles. The fishermen thought we were crazy as we build our sand fortress, then destroyed it! It was good to swim up and down the beach a few times, not too far, mind. The sun kept disappearing behind clouds so we didn't get burnt and we stayed for the sunset which was gorgeous! I'm sure none of my photos will come out, but I took loads anyway. I'm going to a different beach this afternoon and in the evening we're going to see Terminator 2.

The Pongal holiday starts today so we're not doing any teaching until Thursday. We haven't seen the Rev lately so we don't know what he's planned for us yet. I must go out and take loads of pictures of people's 'kolams' - those fabulous coloured powder patterns they put in front of their doorsteps. I'll have to take Yesu with me in case anyone objects.

Speaking of objecting, we bought some bananas yesterday and Muthu didn’t object when the bloke tried to charge us too much. We KNOW that bananas are Rs1-50 and I'm sure he does to. But the question is: why didn’t he bargain with the guy? Indians especially must know they have to, for everything. Of course, it was only ten paise per banana, but it's the principle of the thing. The bloke thought to himself, Ha! White people! and promptly bumped up his prices. Kumar's the same, just accepting whatever they say and taking whatever fruit is given, no matter how bad and diseased it is. We don't really trust him on veg. runs anymore.

There's a very strange boy watching me write this. He has no friends. It's true, he just told me. He keeps talking to me, saying really useful things like, this is a 'knife', no? Apparently he keeps getting beaten at school and he does Karate. He says he can't use it because everyone will say he was the aggressor. Poor chap, I'm sure that the HM would know he keeps getting beaten and everyone's against him. He asked me that classic question: Do you like me?, and I make him really paranoid by saying I wouldn't tell him if I didn't. it’s such a stupid question – how are you supposed to reply? Do you want the honest answer or the cunning lie?

Wednesday 15th January

It's Wednesday and I've got that old feeling again. That's right, the stomach's gone on strike again. I can't work out what it was this time though. Jerry's mum sent Burri, rye and malt porridge for breakfast (after we'd already had our Wheat Flakes), then some 'pongal', then some horrible sour milk stuff called 'lassi'.

C. had some of everything except for the lassi, which is what I blame. Anyway, my appetite's gone right down the tube and I couldn't even finish my chicken-ina-tomato-and-basil-sauce-with-mashed-potatoes! So I'm not happy. It's attacked my throat, so as well as my stomach feeling really heavy I've got this choking feeling you get when you're about to cry.

My tongue's all weird too. I think it's this trying to speak clearly all the time. It's hindering my speech so that 's's sound really lisped and it won't work like I tell it to.

Other than that I'm fine, hunky-dory, especially as the Rev hasn't whicked us off to any Pongal celebrations. He's one of those Indians who says he'll do something with no intention of being true to his word. Oh yes, naturally you'll want to see as much of Indian culture as you can doing your stay.

Huh.

But there is good news! We went to speak to the correspondent about using one of the spare rooms for worship (it turns out Kumar had the keys all along). In the course of the conversation, I asked about my job and he said I could go and work on the new science block they're building at St Andrews! A surprise to say the least. Not that I know anything about it of course, but it should be fun to try.

Thursday 16th January

Okay! So there's NOT good news! I saw the Rev today and he thought it was a big joke, me working with the builders. In fact, I don't actually think he's got any idea what I could do, since he suggested that I go and learn mechanics at the CTUT¹. So I'll do nothing, much - it suits me fine, really - and I can do music in the afternoons.

I learned today that the Rev doesn't know when his birthday is! His birth certificate says 3rd Jan '53, but his baptism certificate says 17th Jan '52! He was baptised on Easter day in '52 so he generally uses that birthday. It doesn't really matter anyway, because birthdays are another thing they don'e really celebrate over here. I told him about our eighteenth and twenty-first birthdays being milestones and how important they are to us. He was quite amused.

So it he was born in '52, that makes him 45 tomorrow. The poor chap hasn't had any children yet, which is pretty devastating for an Indian couple. In the Olden Days he would have got his mother to douse her in kerosene so he could find another wife before it's too late. In these enlightened times, however, he can but pray.

We also talked about houses; he's bought some land for his house for when he retires. He'd better not build it now though, it'll have fallen down by the time he's sixty-five! So he's got three houses. Pretty rich by our standards. We buy houses to live in, not to move between (generally). It's like their clothes: every time there's a festival they buy 'new dress'! we only really buy clothes when we need them.² People seem to think that because they're poor, or less 'well-off' than us Westerners, they'll have less clothes, houses etc.

I went to do some music this afternoon and had a tone-deaf group of nine girls. I spent half an hour trying to get them to sing notes to 'la' after me. It didn't work very well and they couldn't distinguish between two different notes. I'll be glad of the choir tomorrow when those who can't sing will at least be drowned out! Some have got it and some haven't, but if they enjoy themselves, let them come!

Friday 17th January

Kumar is driving me nuts! He went into a massive sulk t'other day because we asked Yesu to go shopping for us instead of him. Then he asked why, so I told him. He buys rubbish! The chicken he gets is all bones and no meat, no matter how much we don't eat bones. He just doesn't realise that we like to spend most of our money on food for us, not him (he's our 'dustbin' – guess who eats the bones!).

So today I said get the chest [of the chicken], using all the appropriate actions, and the legs. So what did he buy? Both back portions and the neck. I'm sure he understood me. We got about an eighth of the meat we get when Yesu buys. So I had a bit of a go and he went and bought some more out of his own money as a 'punishment'.

But the real question is: what's the problem? Why hasn't he sussed out after two months what we do and don't like? I think he listens to what we say, then goes out, accepts what he's given and prays that it's what we wanted. He knows what he wants because we tell him, but he doesn't act on the knowledge.

Saturday 18th January

Madurai.

Hello! Can't stop, we're off to the Pandyan!

Monday 20th January

Ramnad.

So we rushed off to Madurai and arrived tired, in pain (hard seats) and hungry for some good food. We had dosai. Rev Fenn had written off to Mr. Anthony, the missionary at the Conban Valley Project, but hadn't had any reply so we didn't know whether we were coming or going. He turned up later though and at six the next morning we were up (well I was - C. was thinking about it and not liking the idea) to go on our Great Adventure.

It was another three-hour bus journey, but the flat landscape rippled and became not-quite-mountainous, but pretty damn hilly! It was great lurching round the S-bends, bouncing round autos, cars, other buses and the like! At one point there was a piece of road that the workmen had left out by mistake - a 20' pothole - and we had to career around it on to the bank. Almost all the roads are raised up with a ridiculously high camber and steep, rutted banks down either side. When a wheel goes off the road you soon know about it! But the view was good - huge slabs of rock thrust into the sky.

The place is called Conban, and we went to Mr Anthony's house first. we met almost his entire family and they insisted on giving us Iddly (no, no, no! We've just eaten, I'm not hungry, I'm sick, I can't - Doctor's orders, please, PLEASE!). Mr Anthony's not one to take no for an answer, so I switched off my vomitting reflex and as best I could and forced it down. C. ate loads because he'd had hardly any breakfast - I'd had plenty (bombay toast / french bread).

We visited various people in the town, each of whom gave us hot milk / coffee and tried to feed us. I don't know how much food they think a human being can take - Mr Anthony certainly has no idea - he kept asking us if we wanted more! We met another missionary with an extremely young wife who has two brothers (with underdeveloped legs - polio I think) staying with him. These two were keen musicians and before long we had the keyboard and tabla out as they gave us a little concert. The keyboard was the most modern I've seen in India so far - actually playable and pretty good! They were superb musicians and when we came back we played a bit more.

The brothers were very interested in hearing about England and it's immoral culture. Questions we were asked ranged from restrictions on alcohol to, in India, the rule is 'One Man, One Wife', is there any restriction on marriage in England? I don't know where they get their ideas from. We talked at great length about music, films and politics. They asked me if I knew that bloke who's had the world record symphony - were surprised when I said I didn't - and said he came from Conban. Funny that - Joel at New Year asked the same thing and said he was from Veerambal!

We met a couple of school teachers and this is where the plugging for money started. Mr Anthony's been left some land in a Hindu village to build a church. The trouble is, there are no Christians there so he has no support and no money. In another village, the Christians worship in a tent. The Diocesan office don't approve of the project, so they don't give him much funding - his salary is only six hundred Rs a month!¹ Mind you, I'm not sure I really approve of the way they talk about the Hindu's 'Living in Darkness' and how they must be 'Shown the Way of the Truth'. It seems to me that they're using the you're ignorant and wrong method to convert people.²

But then, Mr Anthony's such a nice chap I can't imagine him preaching like that. In any case, shouldn't he convert a few people before building a church in their village? Ah well, the question never came so we didn't have to make any excuses for not asking our churches for money for him.

With everyone we met, Mr Anthony introduced us as students 'who are interested in Mission and Missionary work'. No, we're NOT missionaries, preachers, or training to be such. No we DON'T want to join any missionary work! We cried at various points during the day. Finally he got the message and stopped asking us to pray at every house we went to.

He was incredibly protective, asking us not to talk to anyone at the bus stand and even getting some stools so we could sit away from everyone else (We're fine on the steps, stop fussing, mum!). We got the bus back to Madurai, stood for half the journey and zipped off to the Pandyan as soon as we arrived.

...

Over the last few days I've had very little to eat, because my stomach decides it's full after two mouthfuls. I've got no idea why this is, but at the Pandyan I ate a whole meal! It hurt, but I did it and I was so happy. The food is gorgeous there. But with Indian food I have no willpower left and have to settle for very little. I think I've worked out what the horrible 'South Indian Chicken Mank' ingredient is that ruins the taste of everything. It's coriander! They use it like rice and chillis - far too much and far too often. They use it so much that you can't taste anything else. It's disgusting, but if they used less it would be quite nice.

Rev Fenn is on the case with our round trip and has given us some excellent ideas for making it more meaningful. Say we get a letter from the Bishop saying the who-what-when-where and whys of our visit, then get a list of church addresses in each place we're visiting, we'll have a cheap place to stay, meet people who know the place and maybe even get a local guide! This will separate us from the 'Tourist' label a little bit. It's such a good idea because it means we won't be travelling blind and we'll learn a lot more than if we had no contacts.

I've had some more ideas about what to do in the mornings, the most attractive being (sleep) to document the interesting things about Ramnad in photos and the written word - ie the bazaar, Hindu shrines etc. This will stimulate both my interests as photographer and writer and I should get a good 'project' out of it as well!³ We've also decided to buy some games so that all the kids who come to stare at us have more to do! We're going to buy a carrom board (a weird, smaller hybrid like pool) and already have Monopoly, Chess and cards. I'm not sure USPG would approve of us introducing capitalism to the 'third world', but it IS a great game.

By the way, it's called 'Cumbum', not Conban as I thought when I first heard it! Well THAT's a relief.

Thursday 23rd January

On Tuesday (21st) night the Rev came round with the news that a Rev JP is coming to stay with us on the 27th for ten days. He's coming with USPG and so M. wrote to the Bishop about him. He should know about us - we hope! The Rev also said that the Bishop wanted me to phone him - he'd just got a letter I wrote before term started about getting a job. Apparently he thought I wanted to leave Ramnad! I think the Rev was quite upset - like I didn't trust him (I don't). But now the situation's different. I can't leave, mainly because of our friends here, but the music is just taking off as well. the mornings are still free, but I've written to the Bishop saying that it's really alright if he doesn't find me anything to do because I can occupy my time now. I've got a few ideas. Hopefully the Rev, who is seeing him today, will explain this as I did to him on Tuesday.

I've got my first recording contract - one of the Teachers, Miss Shanti - has asked me to record all my songs for her. she sent a tape over so I'll do that this afternoon. We're going to do an English folk evening at St Andrews, now I've got lots of folky music. Hopefully we can get all the other girls out of study so they can enjoy it as well.

C.'s coming to terms with the teaching - Eighth are wonderful, Seventh are little gits and Ninth just want to play games all the time. Seventh Standard girls don't say anything, but they work really hard and the boys talk all the time all at once, ignore C. and do no work. So C.'s going to set them lots of comprehension to do! When he tried to do some work with Ninth Standard boys they said that the lesson was boring and wanted to play games instead. He still hasn't taught the girls because their teacher keeps turning up and taking lessons. I think that he'd find them much easier and nicer to work with. But it's Eighth Standard who really appreciate C.'s teaching and want to learn. This is what he's told me and we've discussed various possibilities for the vast difference in behaviour. Maybe Seventh are too young, Ninth are too teenaged and Eighth are just right. Girls and boys talk to each other in Eighth Standard!

We went to Juliet's house on Tuesday night and her husband bought me a bottle of beer! He was very careful about it, lowered his voice and whispered, Do you drink... beer? ...Rum? ... It was so funny! But he said that he has to keep it really quiet when he has a drink because the neighbours would stop talking to him! He also doesn't tell the children or even Juliet sometimes! We were put in a really awkward position when he went, because Juliet came and asked if he'd said anything about where he was going. We didn't know what to say, he'd been so secretive about it. So we changed the subject and he came back. Juliet didn't mind, as long as we don't tell anyone. I hadn't had a drink for nearly thirteen weeks and it went down very well!¹

Friday 24th January

So JP's coming tomorrow evening, we're not going to Kanyakumari and didn't go to the beach yesterday (it was National Holiday). Funny how things change. We're going to try and go to Cape Comorin (Kanyakumari) with Juliet and the SM HM near the end of our stay, when we can go for a few days and we'd see more of the area. With Yesu, Jerry and Kumar we'd be at the beach all day, not really worth sixteen hours travelling for - we can do that here. On Sunday we've been invited to: a 'Discipleship Weekend' at St. Andrews, the Ramnad schools' Republic Day cultural event (dancing and such) and the CSI Harvest Festival. Which to go to? I think we'll probably end up at the school event with Juliet.

Muthu has been quite annoying lately, C.'s given him camera films, lent him his walkman and camera, and we bought him a nice watch for his birthday. Last night he wanted to borrow C.'s camera and C. said he couldn't because he was halfway through a film and he wanted to use it this weekend. So Muthu stood there looking really hurt and saying please in a really small voice for half an hour, laying it on really thick. He reckons he can get anything out of C. and he was being really unfair.

There's no way he'd ask me for anything because I'm a bit of a git about things like that and he knows it'd be No Dice. C. said that if I hadn't been there he would have given in and Muthu knows that. I don't want C. to be a pushover for them, so in the end we sent him away because it was eleven o'clock and we were dead tired. He had this, why aren't you my friend any more, look on his face and I'm not sure we really need a friendship that's based on us being Rich White People. Yesu and Kumar never ask for anything. It's like this bloke who asked me if I was taking my guitar back to England with me, and Rajesh asking C. for his camera.

...

On Wednesday (22nd) C. and I had a really long talk about us and our relationship to each other.¹ Most of it all came out, about C. taking so long to do everything and being late for things and how it annoys me so much.

...And how I was really nasty to him when we were in Madurai (I was) because I wanted to go through Culture Shock by myself and he wanted to 'share' the experience. I know, I kept thinking, just shut up. Like when I was crying on the train, C. wanted me to share it, to talk and I didn't.

He told me what an arrogant person I am, how I treat people like lesser mortals. It's true that I get frustrated when people don't GET things as quickly as I wish they would, but so often I end up being nasty or critical instead of helping. I've also picked up the You Fool! that Yesu says all the time. It's supposed to be funny. It's been pretty bad recently and I listened to myself the other day and cringed. It's culture shock all over again and I've been reacting in a very anti-social way. They've started wondering why C. is always happy and I'm always angry, which is weird because C. is the one who's stressed out and miserable most of the time.

C. is a much more 'feminine' person that me (his words, not mine - 'feminine', not 'effeminate'!), a sharing kind of person. I'm not, any more - I used to be but I had to change because of the environment I was in.² C. spends most of his time (outside India) with girls, so he is kept away from male friendships. I've also conditioned myself to cope with crises by just telling myself that everything's okay. Is that so bad? Where C. will talk about it and let other people tell him it's okay, he NEEDS them to, I do it myself. It comes from the school community where no-one likes someone who constantly needs needs consoling and no-one will support you. So I have become like those people and it must be very hard for C. with the confidence boosters he craves.

I know I must appear so unfeeling to him - well I know I do, he said so - but I'm not. It's just that I seem to have developed a male 'totally unaware of other people's feelings' attitude. It still really irritated me when C. said he was 'very sensitive to other people and how they feel'. I really don't like him saying all the things women say about men about me, I might as well start being misogynistic and macho (I won't, don't worry!). I do feel things, I can tell when C.'s in a funny, it's just in a different way that's all.

But when I think things inside, they don't show outside and people think I'm insensitive. Alright, alright I've been an arsehole and it's going to stop. Now.

Saturday 25th January

We've decided that Yesu gets his luck on the Monopoly board from the green car, which he has bewitched with some mysterious Indian luck charm. He lands on all the best streets and never seems to run out of money. So next time we play, he's not being green! I won on Thursday (beautifully, if I do say so myself), but Yesu is the undisputed champion.

...

I did 'I am a New Creation' with the choir this morning and then talked to the delightful Miss Shanti for an hour about African, Australian and American dress. She's organising the school's contribution to the Republic Day thing tomorrow and needs costumes.

So I suggested using hats for the Yanks and the Aussies, although it was very difficult trying to explain what corks are, They come from wine bottles... no, no it's a kind of wood. Because they are all girls it's difficult to suggest a National dress - it's just Western. Cowboy costumes are out of the question.

Africa's easy. Bright colours, long skirts, blouses, whatever.

Monday 27th January

Saturday was fairly uneventful, I spent most of the afternoon recording these songs for Miss Shanti and we went to the beach at four. When we came back, Rev JP had moved in. He's an okay bloke really, though he's one of those who'd disapprove of me saying so. He's been around a bit and worked as a teacher in Bangalore about thirty years ago. He's going to stay in three parishes while he's here and try to find out how unified the CSI¹ is.

He went to Veerambal for the Harvest Festival yesterday. He's a bit of a 'Stevens'² when it comes to sense of humour and most of my jokes go straight through him and he says things like Do you really think so? Now that's interesting... and No, I don't think so.

Everything you say seems to trigger some 'interesting' anecdote and we've had Norwegian Pilchards In Malawian Village Shocker and other stories. He's brought some classical music (Vivaldi!) and still eats dosai in the morning, rice for lunch and Iddlys for dinner. He has only been here for two weeks. I think he thinks we're pretty awful eating wheat flakes and English food. But we did have nothing but Indian for six weeks when we first came. There's a limit to how much a man can take.

The Republic Day celebrations were quite interesting - all these chubby soldiers marching around (the Ramnad Police) and then a few speeches, Giving Of Gifts to the Poor and Impoverished and dancing. The Schwartz Matriculation dance was really good and the 'costumes' didn't look too bad! There was an amateurish motorbike stuntman who fell off his bike into the crowd. He only held each 'stunt' (ooh look, I'm standing on my seat! No wait, there, no... no.. I got it, there!) for about two seconds before losing control.

C. was feeling pretty rough and had to have a lie down for a bit while I ran about with my camera.

We went to a house group worship (invited by Juliet) in the evening which was fairly Tamil-ish and they had some terrible taped songs to listen to which I'm sure God doesn't like. We were given an English bible which had lots of interesting things in the back about prophesies, history journeys etc, so we read through that. Juliet came and translated the speaker's testimony for us.

He'd been a Bad Boy, all violent and drinking and sweary but now he's nice.³

The thing is, he's happy now, everyone likes him and his family don't get sick any more. The woman who was running the group is an ex-Hindu who is a much happier Christian. But most Hindus don't understand the really spiritual part of their religion. in fact it's like they believe what they want to. Their stories are really dodgy as well, it's like us saying that Robin Hood and King Arthur were Gods.

Tuesday 28th January

My choir sang 'God Is Good' before assembly today and after my exertions of yesterday I made them sing it without me! I couldn't sing very very this morning and left them to it. I'm very impressed with them and have taught them quite a lot of songs now, which they all write down in their notebooks. Yesterday some Eighth Standard girls asked if they could join. There were about forty students and Juliet was mortified. Half of them aren't even singing! She said. I said at least they're not talking when the others are singing though, which stumped her for a bit. It must mean they're enjoying themselves and they like the songs.

...

I lost to Yesu [at monopoly] again and then beat his two friends but somehow it wasn't as satisfying.

...

At St. Andrews we took some music and played them Kula Shaker's Hindi songs which I think they liked, but they turned their noses up at Blur and Massive Attack. We played Hangman, a game that hadn't occurred to us until yesterday, when the girls chose words like 'friendship' and 'thank you'.

Our English lessons are turning into 'culture lessons' where we tell each other things. Today we talked about music - Indian film songs with dances being popular as opposed to our musical culture of bands playing gigs. They really don't understand why we would want to go into a sweaty little room and just stand there watching someone play! It's all about the dancing here. If there's no dance, there's no music.¹

...

JP is actually a very interesting person (I've decided) and I've spent a lot of time talking to him about things I've observed and his ideas. It's really good for me because we can talk about a lot of things like Africa and the church at a depth which is impossible with C. because he has had no real experience with them.

He (JP) recognised the Tony Hudson picture of Lesotho (that my Godparents sent me for Christmas²) instantly, because he had worked there. But he is terribly English and calls dosai 'dohsa' and bhaji's 'badgies' and is still eating Indian food for breakfast, lunch and dinner. He'll have to put his foot down soon!

Wednesday 29th January

We got in trouble at St. Andrews today, the HM came round at ten to eight and told C. in no uncertain terms that we are to come 'from six-thirty to seven o'clock only'. We wouldn't have minded, but out of the thirty-odd lessons we've taken, she's only come to one and that was today! There's been no interest in what we're doing and I think she's written us off because we said we're not real teachers, so she thinks we're just wasting time.

In actual fact we've done a hell of a lot, just not so much English. We have discussed all sorts of cultural things, festivals, dress, music etc. And out of these discussions has come a marked improvement in the girls' conversational English. If the HM showed more interest, she might know this.

Admittedly, we are only supposed to do half an hour, but the lessons take off and it's eight before we know it. Today we took some Tamil film songs to play them - not realising that as a Christian school, films and film songs are sinful. On top of this, while the HM was 'talking' at C., Muthu turned up with the bloke from the fax place who had a letter for me!

Talk about everything going to hell at once. So the girls are in trouble for using us to skive study and she didn't even give us the courtesy of a telling off. Obviously too ignorant to understand.

...

There was a big fight between Hindu's and Muslims at the old bus stand this morning. The Hindus killed a Muslim called Babu, which didn't help and as a result all the buses have stopped, all the shops (except for the Christian ones) have closed and everyone is very nervous.

...

We had chilli Parotha at the Abiraami this evening - sounds horrible but is actually very nice (apart from the overdose of chilli!). Muthu invited himself to the meal, which wasn't welcome because he is beginning to sponge quite badly. Yesterday he came with us and JP and was still hungry afterwards. So C. bought him a bar of chocolate. His family have never tasted Chocolate and by the sound of it, they don't eat rice either because he said there was no food at home. Surely rice and Idly's instead of chocolate would have been a much more sensible idea? I get the feeling we're being used, not a very pleasant feeling at all. He doesn't eat lunch because he's 'studying' (it's supplied at Schwartz) (lunch, not study) and is always hungry - hoping we'll feed him.

He got really upset because I told him we couldn't feed him every day and he was hurt at the very assumption! But I'm having nothing to do with someone who only asks C. for things because he knows he'll probably say yes when I won't. NOT because I'm an evil git, it's the principle and he has to be shown the limits, which C. can't do because he's too nice.

...

C. said that he thinks we will learn a lot from JP about Ramnad because he's been here three days and has seen more than we did in two months! The Rev has actually got his arse in gear for him and has taken him round all the institutions and CSI-connected organisations in Ramnad. Because he's a Grown Up. I seem to remember asking if we could do that. In fact none of our requests of January tenth have had a positive outcome. Why? What's wrong with us?

We've got four and a half weeks left in Ramnad and I don't want to leave. It's so annoying about the exams, but if we stayed we'd just be wasting our time while everyone was at school. It's going to be a nightmare leaving and then we'll be so busy Ramnad will seem like another world.

When we go on our Round Trip¹ I'm going to travel with the minimum of essentials. No walkman, no novels, just clothes, money, toothbrush² and a towel. It will be a time of pure escapism when I leave everything behind me for four weeks.

Friday 31st January

It's Friday and I'm going to have to get Juliet to organise herself more with these morning songs. I'm not happy with the way she sends boys round at nine to fetch me for the assembly. Usually I'm sat in my lunghi eating breakfast when they come and I have to rush around getting ready. We did 'Bind us Together' and the nine-fifteen bell went off halfway through, like it has done every morning this week. It's so annoying! One of the Tenth Standard girls came and asked me for a tape of songs! I'm flattered - we don't have any contact with Tenth Standard, but she is one of those people you end up talking to anyway. She has a Western style fifties haircut so she stands out as most girls have their hair tight and plaited.

Last night we did our second worship service which I wrote and Juliet came with Miss Shanti and the Rev Jodanier (David Jason), the Rameswaram pastor. It was all about gifts and using the gifts God gave us to help others, with emphasis on the ultimate sacrifice of Jesus as an example to us all. I asked JP to read the parable of of the talents and say a few words. The atmosphere was much better than last week and I think they all enjoyed it.

The Schwartz Matric HM didn't come because with her hearing problem she felt she wouldn't be able to participate. She spent Rs4,000 on a hearing aid but it didn't suit her and she's too scared to have an operation in case it gets worse. It's awful because she wants to do so much for us but it inhibits her quite a lot.

...

JP is ill. Obviously his three weeks of purely South Indian food has finally caught up with him. I cringed when the Rev [Athisayam] packed him into an Auto and whisked him off to the Christian doctor - remembering my own experience on the back of his moped! Not to mention the used needle in my sandal. No idea at all - the poor chap could hardly walk.

...

I'm definitely in love with Miss Shanti. She's just so nice and bashful and elegant. She came round to listen to the tape I'd recorded for her and I forgot to give her tape player back. She's invited us round for dinner on Sunday and wants to go to a studio to get some proper photos done! She told me Her full name and said lots of nice things about about my singing. I blamed it on my mum.

Everyone's upset that we're leaving in only four weeks and Miss Shanti looked so devastated that I just wanted to give her a big hug - but of course I couldn't. It's going to be really difficult not being able to hug people when we leave. It's going to be even more difficult not being able to come back next year. It's people like Juliet, Yesu, Jerry, the HM and Miss Shanti who I really don't want to fade into memories. I'm going to have to make sure they don't. That'll be even harder.¹

...

We're going to Madurai tomorrow and I'm going to risk another haircut! We'll be going to the Pandyan for lunch, a meal I've been looking forward to all week! I'll also book our Round Trip tickets with Rev Fenn.