There was a suicide at the TTS a few days ago when one of the students hung himself. A bit of intrigue has arisen around his death and the people who found him think that he was murdered. Apparently he had a lot of scratches on his face and hands. The TTS have covered it all up and he was buried the next day so that an autopsy was impossible. The family wanted it kept quiet as well, because suicide is a punishable crime! Excitement, suspense, intrigue! But Nic was glad to get away from it all, as were the other European students that weekend. I think she found it hard staying at St. Andrew's with next to no privacy at all, the girls wouldn't leave her alone!

Three English people in the same month, how often does that happen? They must be ecstatic! She was surrounded by girls pushing the windows open, walking in, saying what is your name? and running away again. They would be there at five in the morning and eleven at night, without fail. What exciting lives they must lead. A far cry from the TTS, anyway, staying in a hostel with other Europeans and the chance to retreat whenever you want. she did manage to read three books while she was here and I think she enjoyed herself. Next week she's going to take us out a lot and we'll check out some of the restaurants in Madurai.

It has been raining solidly for two days now and is generally wonderful! It is almost cool and will hopefully stay that way now until February. According to Florence, anyway. Yesu and a friend of his called Parthasarthi have been here for most of the morning, just watching us have our breakfast, watching C. doing his ironing and me writing my diary. Those exciting lives again... We asked Yesu to tell us when his mother is cooking/washing/ironing or watching telly so we can go round and see how Indian people do it. I think he got the hint. It may seem cruel, but we have been here for four weeks now and are washing, etc. almost all the time. I asked Yesu if he was having fun, and he said no! They've got an English exam this afternoon, so they don't have any lessons. Why aren't you revising? Oh dear, I seem to be turning into a responsible teacher, I'd better go and play cards for a bit.

At about eight this morning the leader of the choir at Schwartz Matriculation, Mrs Juliet, paid us a visit. She has got an MSc in maths and medicine. She was going to do an MPhil but her husband persuaded her she didn't have time and had to look after their children. She is a bit of a star, and used to teach at an international school in Kodaikanal. She said that she used to meet a lot of 'internationals' and enjoyed talking to them but despaired of this when she moved to Ramnad. So she's well pleased that we're here and wants to develop a 'relationship' that we can continue long after we've left. She came round to find out for herself what we are doing here and I think that since she was so interested, she was able to understand our purpose. She promised to teach us all about India and was telling us about the corruption in power here, and how they could bribe the examiners to give the children good grades. It shows up well on the teachers, you see.

We need to write to the Bishop to find out what, if anything, the church actually does in Ramnad. Our tiny connection with it – the Rev. - looks after us, but isn't particularly satisfactory. We want to be involved and do something in the community. Somehow I don't think we're making much impact at the moment. After January 3rd we are going to be very busy so we need to find out what we can do. After then, the time will fly and we'll be home before we know it.

...

To date, I have had six letters (counting postcards from Gran A. and two faxes). This should really annoy me, especially since the other two are from Ali and Gran B. Have I got no friends? No real ones anyway. It only really annoys me when C. gets post, on Saturday he got three huge parcels full of books and food (semolina, hot chocolate!) and couldn't resist the oh, is it all for me? that I love so much. Who needs it? Kumar feels sorry for me which is even worse. I'm going to have to write to as many people as I can and make them feel terribly guilty when I get home. The trouble is that if I do get some post, C. will say, oh I'm so glad you got some post, oozing innocence, sounding incredibly condescending. No, he can't win so he would be better off not even bothering. Sorry C., it's psychological, I'm sure I won't be severely mentally damaged, just distraught.

We had to virtually swim to St. Andrew's on our way to see the HM about coming back in January. We were expecting all sorts of conversation like,

How are the girls doing? I hope they're alright. are you enjoying it? Yes, they've got exams so will you come back in January? Good. We'll look forward to your return. Happy Christmas!

We got an expectant look and an, Okay?! Perhaps she is overworked. It was fun going though, we are both wearing our sensible warm clothes, even though it is not that cold. I have had to lend my jacket to Kumar a few times. That'll teach them to wear dhotis! It must be awful for the builders living in our garden though – I don't think those palm roofs offer much protection.¹

So we are enjoying the weather, even if no-one else is. Our hostel isn't very waterproof – apart from the windows our walls are covered in damp patches where the rain has soaked through. Even around our fuse box! The front of the house has gone a dirty grey colour as it has become saturated... Marvellous.