ON THE PLANE

And this is really it now, all that anticipation and worry will soon be in the past. We're flying from Bahrain to Heathrow and there's seven-odd hours to go. We got up at 2am because we had to check in at 4 but didn't actually check in til 5 because the flight before us was going to Colombo, Sri Lanka so security was pretty thorough. We met an American chap who is Tamil, but is doing medicine in New York. He's very nice and has stayed with us because it helps him get through customs quicker.¹

Everyone's being nice to us! It'll be different in England though. The plane's full of white people which is only natural but so strange! I can't believe that we're actually here and nearly home after all this time. This is when we realise what we've really done. My mind hasn't registered properly - I think that's it, I know I'm going home, but don't really believe it.

Aunty Fenn kissed us goodbye when we left Madurai, which is the closest we've come to any Indian lady. It really hurt that we couldn't hug or even shake hands with the HM or Miss Shanti (...). Contact is still very important to us and I missed it terribly. With most of our closest friends in India being women, you can imagine what it's been like.

The time has gone by so quickly - our memory of the flight to India is still very vivid. I remember the first night in Madurai - sleeping until 2pm and our first meal with the Fenn's. I remember our first visit to Ramnad, the incomprehension, the embarrassment and the hopelessness. It's all like it happened yesterday.

The thing is, I still remember USPG, but they've had no part in our placement. It grew into a lie whenever we told people that we are representing them (USPG) and the church. The only thing that has made it worthwhile from a World Church point of view is our contact with Rev. Jothi. We should be able to help him.

Otherwise the whole experience has been totally personal. I haven't done this for anyone but myself. It's such an amazing thing to do, living with people - you see such a unique version of the world. It gives you a sense of purpose, gathering knowledge and compassion, a wider awareness rather than just quick holiday snaps. The real point is what do you do with this knowledge?

Ah well, I don't know what I'm going to do as far as other people are concerned but it's been a great personal advancement for me. We came home at the right time, I think. I can't wait.

...

Here the diary ends, with a lovely photo of us with Miss Shanti. The back of the book is full of little goodbye notes from our friends and my choir, I'll add these at some point - whenever I get my scanner working!

When we arrive, I hardly say anything. In fact it's a few days before I feel able to speak even to my family again, a mourning process perhaps. Undergoing reverse culture shock. I do a few talks about my trip, to the Mother's Union, the Church etc. I make my photo albums and leave the diaries on a shelf.

Ten years down the line it's hard to remember the finer details, but at least now I have somewhere to jot down little things as they come to me. The whole exercise has been very worthwhile though, I don't want to forget these days.

I still have vague plans to go back, I have of course lost touch with everybody in the diaries, it all petered out after a few months but India has and will always be a very special place for me.

I've found a great SATELLITE VIEW of where we lived and worked, on Wikimapia.