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.