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.