Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Blogpoem Painting India
Painting India
First spread the canvas with cow dung
Wet, to shine
Now with chalk make a Rangoli border
Pattern echoing pattern in terracotta and white
Next hang garlands of jasmine and roses
Deep pinks, acid yellows that nimble fingers swiftly tied
Have jacaranda and bougainvillea spill exuberant
Oranges, shocking pinks, a million paper butterflies
Splash here a field of bright green paddy
Women in saris, bent gracefully at the waist, toiling
Before the sun grows hot.
Cast shadows from fanning branches
Under the elephant legs of coconut trees
Paint the crowded road, a slow cart lurching
The bullock pair with matching horns
Decorated for Cow Pongal
A hen fussing her tiny cream powder puffs
Scattered in the dust
While on a straw hill the flashy cock struts
Here’s a whole family on a bicycle, baby fat brown legs
Poking from mother’s sari, and a yellow auto putters by
Brave in the monstrous crush of motor lorry, bus and bike.
And now the village weekly market
Tomatoes onions brinjal plantain garlic
Spread in the fly-specked sunlight
Small round lemons and limes in heaps
Green bananas still clustered on the stem
Picture postcard shots amidst the squalor
Rubbish gathered and scattered, people and dogs scavenging a life
Crow upon crow upon crow lordly squawking.
Winding through the scene, pencil in five strange figures on bicycles
In stately procession past fat gaudy Ganesh and his puja gifts
Add the flash of white-toothed smiles, hands raised in ‘Vanicum!’
Frame upon frame snapped and stored in the mind’s eye
Precious memories held in the heart
Until we come again.
Blog 21 Proud to be called ‘ Masala Grandmother’
During our last days in the village we keep busy to the end. We appoint Rani and Padmini as our teachers- two outstanding women in an impressive group. One is from Sitaramanpet and the other from Kamanchemanpet, which works out well, these being the two villages served by our playcentre. They had also chosen each other to work together during training and make an excellent pair, both being calm and yet enthusiastic. Because we have managed to evolve a sort of mixture language, part my limited Tamil, part English and part British sign language which I taught them, for use when Sekar is not there to interpet, Padmini describes me as ‘Masala grandmother’! On the next day, Thursday, we take names of children who wish to come to the centre. Only a small number have managed to bring birth certificates, as though they are required in India nowadays, many families seem not to have them. It looks as though we may start in a week’s time, once the fans are in place, the electricity joined up, an water available in a tap in the street, with around a dozen children. Seems the local balwadi teacher is already expressing complaints about us. She will be nervous that if her numbers go down, she will no longer get her money from the government. Sekar and Ganeshan will have to go and talk to her and calm her fears.
For lunch we finally make it to Balaji’s house. They have been inviting us repeatedly but we have had so many commitments all month. The meal they have prepared is a real feast and we know that this is a real compliment to us because this family is not at all well off, being dependent on weaving, mainly for BTC. It is frightening to think of the future for this weaving village, who have just begun to feel the benefits of being organised in Self Help Groups, and being associated with BTC, who have been delighted with the quality of their work. If the world economic downturn is alarming for us in Britain, how much more serious will it be for them?
We had decided to offer a small money present between the five of us to Balaji, as a way of thanking him for his tireless help to us in so many ways. I try to offer this to him, after our lovely meal, but the look on his face is pure horror, as he backs away from me. Without the language it is difficult to explain that we only want to thank him, but he makes very clear that he wouldn’t dream of accepting. He doesn’t have much English at all but he says ‘Only love, only love’ as he shakes his head at me. I feel that I have insulted him, but cannot really apologise for this. As we leave the house pretty much everyone is crying- certainly he and his father and mother are. It is so rare to encounter anywhere such good people and we feel so privileged to have been able to get to know them much more during this visit. I think all the tears are because we truly will miss each other.
The next difficult farewells are with Mr Immanuel, RUHSA administrator and chief fixer as far as we are concerned. I promise that some of us at least will be back to see him next year, and he in turn seems to be promising that he will take some time out to address his own health issues. I hope that Daleep’s strongly expressed concerns for him will make him realise that all of us, his old friends who love him, really do care about this.
We spend our last weekend in the Golden Sun hotel in Mahabalipuram, on the coast. Since we were last there in 1996 the town has become much more of a tourist place and is now full of the Kashmiri traders whom one sees in Goa and Kerala. Whilst eating our first non-Indian meal in a restaurant there we bump into George and Lee, whom we last saw in the guest house at BTC. They are about to fly home to Bristol and we chew over the whole experience with them. Never easily pinned down I’d say sums it up... This coast was hit by the tsunami in 2004 and we see that the fishermen’s boats have the name of a German charity written on them. A German woman, Karin, who is staying in the Golden Sun whilst working in Chennai, has been very moved to be thanked by some fishermen for saving their livelihoods. The charity also paid to have homes rebuilt for the fishermen. As Karin says, it is good to see the practical results of the donations which were made by so many countries in the wake of that horrific Boxing Day disaster.
I hide from the hot sun in the shade around the pool, trying to find a peaceful enough place away from the large influx of affluent Indians who are having a great time, noisily, away from Chennai for the weekend. Below is the poem I write, my last words for the blog. Apart from telling you the journey home is much improved by Pamela having acquired us an upgrade to World Traveller Plus ( Respect, Pam!) I’ll sign off. More to come from this blog I think, once I have given some thought to where we go next ( serious fund-raising to be done for one thing).
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Blog 20 Many tears, much laughter.
As we begin to think about the end of our time here and tying up as many loose ends as possible, I’ve also been reflecting about the whole experience of this month’s work. This week we are training our six candidates for the teachers’ posts and it’s proving emotional and exciting and hilarious. When we plan for the training we hope that participants will be open and generous in sharing of their own lives and beliefs and feelings. This group are showing themselves to be extraordinarily open to working like this and are all throwing themselves into activities which they have never experienced before in their lives. I have been asking them to use all the different play materials and then to talk about how they feel whilst playing like children. In British culture we tend not to have much scope or time for play after childhood, but in India this is certainly even more the case. The women have been screaming with laughter whilst throwing water over each other, whilst dressing up as ‘daddy’ for home corner play and serving tea to me, the visiting granny
At such moments I recall the story of the creation of the Bishopston-Kuppam Link, back in 1978, when I was a young mum, the age of my youngest child now. Carolyn suggested the idea as a way that people from two very different cultures could come together and learn to share the triumphs and the tragedies of each other’s daily lives, and in so doing would learn about their common humanity. My goodness has the link accomplished that as an aim, so many times over! The creation of the One Candle Fund, by Pam and Brian Morris in 2004, has brought us all into contact with so many stories of success and striving for education within families. They are so very grateful for the small bursary they receive from the fund, which enables them to continue with their education. Pam received a moving letter from Balaji, who has never received anything for himself, but who has seen his friends benefit, in which he spoke eloquently of their gratitude for the chance to follow their dreams. Every day we have been at the playcentre Balaji has been available to us, mending Brian’s innumerable punctures, shopping with Andy and Brian so they don’t get fleeced, bringing us our coffee/ extra chairs/ water etc etc. Nothing is too much trouble for him. You may imagine how Pam cried when she read that simple but beautiful letter.
On Saturday Pam met with the villagers of Seetaramanpet to try to establish how many of the One Candle bursary-holders needed continuing support. She learned that one girl on the list had died this last year. She had, it seems, very much wanted to train as a nurse after college, but her parents did not support her in this. She became very depressed and took her own life. This dreadful course of action still continues to be taken with appalling frequency by young people in India, perhaps because their culture often does not give them much control over their lives. In poor families problems of affording schooling or a daughter’s marriage can seem insurmountable.
Later in the weekend we went to visit the people of the village of Poonsoli whom Pam and Brian got to know really well when they were gathering information for the educational website (www.kvkuppam.info) Since we last saw them in 2006 one of the families has grown considerably, with several marriages having taken place and many young children being in evidence, the youngest of them a baby of only one week old, the child of a ‘love marriage’ between the son of the family and a Moslem girl. They all welcomed us eagerly and wanted to show us the crops in their fields or their new half-built house. Then Pam asked after the children of one family, the son and daughter of Selvi, and we received the devastating reply that both of them are dead, having committed suicide within a year of each other, both of them only in their late teens. We then realised that the enormity of the tragedy was written on Selvi’s face. Others in the family said ‘ she does not eat’. We did not have a translator with us, but of course Selvi was able to understand our expressions of shock and dismay and was bundled into Pam’s arms whilst we all cried with her.
So as I say, many tears and much laughter this visit. The more often we come the more real friends we have and the more we care about how they and their families are. One of my own saddest moments was at the elderly people’s day centre where everyone seemed to be enjoying being there with friends, chatting and playing games, watching television. This is what we plan will happen, once our playcentre is up and running, in the other half of our building. My sadness was because I was thinking of the day centre which my father attended for a brief while and which he hated. The simple small local group which we plan will be much more likely to be what the elderly would enjoy, we think. It will be supported by the people of the village too, who will be on the management group of our joint centre and will make sure the building is cared for. We know this will happen because Balaji has promised us.
Over discussion at the end of our day’s training today one of our candidates, a young woman of 30, talked about the needs of young people in the community, many of whom become overwhelmed by family problems. She suggested that they might have group meetings for – separately of course- young women and young men from the local villages and that these might happen in the evenings in our Pachaikili centre. Sekar said that RUHSA would probably be able to support these groups with some expertise in counselling. So we could be talking a really innovative new model, integrating work with the very young and their parents, with the elderly and with the youth. Amazing!
Friday, January 30, 2009
Blog 19 First day of teacher training and an auspicious day for enrolling your child in the Pachaikili playcentre
Wendy, Pam and I cycle the country route to the playcentre, which means running the gauntlet of snarly dogs rather than dicing with lunatic lorry drivers. En route we lose Pam when she is set upon by Mr Coconuts, our local water diviner, who presses some sugar cane upon her. We arrive to find three of our teachers waiting on the steps but no Sekar so no key. After a short while he turns up on his motorbike, apologising for lateness. We tell him we fully expected him to be tired after the last few hectic days and he explains that actually the plaque engravers were working til late because there was a power cut in Vellore, so they couldn’t start our job until 6 o’clock, so he didn’t get home til after 11 at night. Our bet is Mrs Sekar is less than ecstatic about visiting English folk who purloin her husband for long hours and days during their stay!
We gain access to the school but alas our new plastic chairs have not yet been delivered, so our young friend Balaji has to be sent for to round some up from various homes in Sitaramanpet. All in all, we make a late start at 10, but by then we have 5 of our 7 candidates for the teaching post and a couple of mums with their children. It seems that, today being Friday and therefore temple day, it is considered an auspicious day to bring their children to be enrolled. What is more those same mums saw the playcentre yesterday and thought it looked very inviting, so I guess they have thought that the best plan would be to lose no time in enrolling their children. We learn at this point that some of our toys – large cars and buses- have been lifted by some of yesterday’s children, who refused to be parted from them when they were dragged home! Efforts will have to be made to track them down.
We begin the day with some getting-to-know-you activities and all of the women seem immediately very open to talking about themselves and their ideas. After half an hour or so the 6th candidate turns up –she has had to see her employer to get permission for time off. We spend the rest of the morning in a variety of activities and then at lunch time we have a delicious meal prepared by Nagadevi- the Self Help Group leader, and by Balaji’s mother. Andy and Brian are clever enough to arrive just in time for this. The community of Sitaramanpet seem to be ever willing to help us in any way possible. In the afternoon Balaji presents Pam with a letter for us all in which he expresses very simply but eloquently his gratitude and that of the people of his village, for the help which they have been given with their education ( from the One Candle Fund) which has enabled them to strive towards their dreams. They are grateful that their village was chosen ( actually precisely because there was such evident need there) and that now we have the school there too. He writes also of thanks to Carolyn of BTC, for the weaving work which they have given to their SHG, which has already made a visible difference to their lives. They know already of the chill wind of recession which is global, but being felt particularly harshly in the UK, and we fear for their futures.
In the afternoon session I ask the teaching candidates to play with the water, clay and sand. They do this in two groups and the group who go first to the water area are soon enjoying themselves very noisily. They and the floor soon become very wet! In the clay area they are much quieter, but none the less involved in their play and in the creation of numerous different objects and animals. One of the women guesses my elephant is a tortoise....As soon as they begin to play in the sand they begin what is obviously a traditional hide and seek game. One of the groups becomes very involved working together to create a huge fort – like the one at Vellore, and they cannot be torn away from it to come back to our group discussion!
The women all agree that the play sessions have been very enjoyable, that they have liked their chance to return to childhood and to forget all adult concerns. One of them says that she will understand her son’s pleasure in his play so much better now. All in all it has been a happy and productive day and I will look forward to our next session on Monday.
Blog 18 The Green Parrot flies!
Today has been a wonderful celebration for us all, because the Pachaikilli Playcentre and Pre school Resource Centre was inaugurated, with a great deal of ceremony and local colour. It is quite remarkable that Dr John only gave the order for this to happen on Tuesday, having obviously twisted Daleep’s arm firmly up his back so that our old friend had agreed to skip the last session of his CMC symposium and to come back and be guest of honour.
Sekar was given the unenviable job of Making it So – in the words of the great Jean-Luc Picard. He accomplished this we suspect by giving up on sleep for a couple of days, bless him. We are so very much indebted to him and his commitment to our project. He had to find a form of words for the ‘tablet’ or plaque, which Dr John would agree to; have it carved on a stone; have that stone cemented onto the outside of our building; fix a temporary curtain over it; invite all the dignitaries of CMC to the inauguration; draw up a programme (again with Dr J’s assent- no errors to be made in the order in which Important People speak...); purchase innumerable shawls and sandalwood garlands as gifts for same Important People; design and have made a huge plastic banner – complete with 3 flying green parrots garnered from the internet; organise the public address; put word out to all local people from Self Help Groups; make sure there is water on site; get engineers to connect electricity to next-door house’s supply(!); have 50 chairs sent up from RUHSA; and get a priest for the opening prayer and a large 5 wicked candle for ceremonial puja. In amongst all this he managed to shop with us three women in Vellore – see earlier blog- for play equipment, on Tuesday, and ditto further shopping with Andy and Brian on Wednesday.
Mr Immanuel organised a taxi for us all at 7.40 this a.m and off we set as we want to be early to set up the toys in the centre. Forgot to mention that Sekar had ensured that the toys were transported from RUHSA to the centre and even found a potter to donate us our first lump of clay. When we arrive we find that the site has been raked, tidied and gravelled and the plaque is firmly ( well to be honest the cement is still wet) in place. It is great and – I lost my bet in previous blog- has Daleep’s name in large letters across it. Ditto our names, but much smaller in the corner, and Dr John’s, same size! Not sure if I mentioned previously that Pam came up with the suggestion of Pachaikilli playcentre. On our first trip in 1991 we used to cycle in to the Barbara Jennings school every day, passing a tree full of green parrots. There is a lovely action song which the teachers used to sing which is about a green parrot singing- ‘Pachaikilli parum’.
Many RUHSA staff seem to be on site – and the engineers from CMC- to get everything set up, so while they are doing that we all start unwrapping our purchases and setting them out on the shelves. It doesn’t take us too long with all hands on deck and goodness does it look wonderful when the room is full of brightly coloured toys and books! Gradually the local women start to arrive and lend a hand, decorating the puja candle with flowers and fixing our scarves with pins ( discover Indian women have secret ‘pin stock’ about their persons for just such a necessity) They are clearly amazed with the play equipment. As more people arrive they bring with them some small children, who don’t hesitate to get stuck into the toys. An instant success of course. After some phone calls from Sekar we discover that Daleep has been taken prisoner by Dr J and is bogged down in a tour of RUHSA. One of our earliest associates from the weavers’ society, Karunamurthy, is talking to me and says ‘Daleep was always a punctual man’. Eventually, about 45 minutes late, Dr J arrives with Daleep and the first thing he says to all of us is ‘ I am so sorry to be late’. He hurries to get the curtain unveiled, then Andy is ushered forward to cut the ribbon- with a few words of Tamil and English- and in we all go to begin the ceremony.
Chairs are placed at the front for all 5 of us plus Daleep, Dr John, and Carolyn and David Whitwell. After the puja candle-lighting and prayer we are enmeshed in a positive shower of sandalwood garlands and shawl gifts – all very lovely and Kashmir wool apparently. During this Daleep is muttering to me about how much he hates to be late. Speeches are then made by all and sundry, with the longest being by me and then by Daleep. He has grasped very quickly, as I remember he always was able to do, the essence of what our centre is about and how it chimes with his ( and our) philosophy of development. He has picked up on my words about teaching the young children to make choices and to understand that they can take control of their own destinies and he goes on to talk about how impressed he is to see the changes in their communities, with people having taken control of their own lives through the Self Help Groups. Later when Susie Whitwell, Carolyn and David’s daughter, who is in K V Kuppam for a brief stay, with her friend Laura, says how impressed she was with Daleep, Mr Immanuel replies that ‘ He could impress anyone in two minutes’- which is a good way to express it.
It is all in all a super event, and we have to admit that we have greatly benefited from Dr John’s insistence on having Daleep there for the ceremony. Sekar has done a great job of translating all that we have said- Pam has spoken about the wonderful friendship shown to us by the community of Sitaramanpet; Wendy has spoken of her gratitude for the love she has found here in K V Kuppam over her 13 years of being associated with the playcentre projects. Sekar finishes with a rendition of the green parrot song and with that Daleep starts to insist on haste as he has a train to catch from Katpadi. We rush back to RUHSA for a lovely lunch, Daleep just has time to throw at us his copy of The Hindu which carries a gloomy editorial about economic prospects for Britain, and off he dashes. We feel the need for rest, as it has been an emotional day and also the weather has hotted up considerably this week. Teacher training starts tomorrow in earnest!
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Blog 17 An afternoon in the insanity of Vellore
Yesterday Wendy Pam and I went to Vellore to meet up with poor over-worked Sekar ( trying to organise so much for our inauguration) He helped us find more toys and play materials - lots spent at the stationers especially on art stuff. While we were there a funeral procession passed by - dead man reclining on a flower covered cart, with coins over his eyes. Lots of banging of drums accompanied the procession. Am going to try to upload photo.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Blog 16 January 27th
Pam-blog No 15 Monday 26th January Republic Day
We have been here in India just over two weeks and remarkably, when we look back over our stay, we have achieved quite a lot in the circumstances. By Saturday some of us are feeling pretty exhausted and frustratingly our planned meeting to discuss ‘costings’ is once again delayed due to arrival of upper management. Brian and I decide we need to catch up with Alemelu’s family in order to update her profile on the web site and we are desperate to see Selvi’s mum at Tutithangal so we leave the others drinking coffee at Paul’s Hotel with resident crows and take an auto rickshaw to BTC where we have lunch with Lee and George. We manage to persuade Selvi to come with us to Poonsoli to translate and off we go. Selvi knows a short cut which involves turning off onto a narrow uneven track which winds around the countryside, through people’s yards, through the bushes and along narrow ledges at an alarming angle. Round and round we go with Brian muttering about so called short cuts and Selvi shrieking with laughter every time we almost tip over into the snake infested scrubland. (We aren’t really sure it’s snake infested but after Selvi nearly had a close encounter with a cobra at BTC we are seeing snakes everywhere!) Eventually we emerge unscathed onto the Tutithangal/Vadaganthangal road and turn right to Alemelu’s house.
We haven’t seen the family for three years, at which time Sudha was about to give birth, so we are looking forward to finding out what other changes have occurred. As we walk towards the house the family erupt into the road and we are welcomed warmly. Tamil Selvi, wife of Suresh grabs my hand and leads me into the courtyard which is overflowing with people. There has been an explosion of babies including baby ‘no name’ who is just 15 days old, and it takes some time to match babies to parents and catch up on all the news. Thank goodness for Selvi who is able to translate. We were fortunate to attend the love marriage of Suresh and Tamil Selvi in 2005 and on our last visit we met daughter Monisha. They now have a son and Alemelu’s daughter Sudha, who was a schoolgirl on our first visit in 2003, now has three children! The most exciting bit of news is that Nuresh, brother to Suresh and Sudha, has fallen in love with and married a Muslim lady who has been welcomed into a Hindu household with love and respect. They have two beautiful daughters. What an amazing family they are and what a heart warming story!
We pay a very quick visit to Selvi’s home to see her mother who hugs us with delight and then drop Selvi off in time to cook supper for the guests and prepare for the arrival of Carolyn and David the following day. We are feeling pretty pleased with ourselves having managed to achieve what we set out to achieve with the minimum of fuss, including persuading Selvi that it was not necessary to cook supper and send it up to RUHSA. The team are suitably impressed- no-one so far has been able to deter Selvi from feeding us – but I suspect a little sad that we have to set forth instead to Paul’s hotel for dosai in the company of various dogs and mewing cats and the usual cacophony of a Tamil film blasting from the TV.
Monday dawns with the usual morning crow chorus and we are looking forward to our promised trip to the new and beautiful Golden Temple in Vellore. We have been invited to the 8am raising of the flag for Republic day but no one is very keen, especially as we are all still pretty tired after our mega trip to Chennai. We fail to attend. By 9am we are in Paul’s drinking coffee and waiting for Raghu and friends who are taking us to the temple. They are late and at first we think they are just operating on Indian time but eventually we realise they are not coming and we don’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved as it’s hot and we are all flagging. None of us relished the thought of queuing for hours to see the deity in the heat but we have heard such a lot about this new and marvellous temple, built by a local man who made his fortune, and we are sad not to see it. It seems unlikely we will be able to find time to see it before we leave. We later learn that due to a partial eclipse of the sun today all the temples are closed and that is probably the reason the boys didn’t turn up.
We’ve used our unexpected leisure time to catch up on our sleep and the scientist in our midst has taken up the challenge of solving the problem of the leaking water tank on the roof of our building. This has been a constant source of concern to us over the last few years. I was astonished that not only was the building still standing but in fact it had also been cleaned up and painted. No rats so far and only one cockroach and the remains of something that looked remarkably like a scorpion in our kitchen. The drain in the bathroom has been fixed and I miss the little green frog who used to live there but cannot now get through the grid. The one thing that has not changed is the amount of water flowing constantly from the water tank onto the roof directly above Sally’s flat. Andy was determined to do something about this and the result is a wonderful Heath Robinson contraption which directs the water through a pipe into a bucket balanced at an angle on a lump of wood and then into a drain pipe down to the soil below. We all feel much safer!
Some of us went to the market today and Wendy had the misfortune to pass the butcher’s stall just as the knife was about to slice into the throat of a poor little goat. Within seconds the head was laid down in the front of the stall and it was skinned and butchered in 60 seconds flat- Wendy’s words! She and Brian are now planning roast goat and Yorkshire puddings for next Sunday’s lunch.
Blog 14 Sunday January 25th Daleep comes back to RUHSA
I first met Daleep in 1977 when he came to Bishopston to talk to us about the possibility of us forming a friendship link. This is the first time that I have ever been with him in RUHSA as he had long since left when I came in 1991 for the first time. By coincidence Carolyn Whitwell is also here now, so the three of us who sat around Carolyn’s table that day to talk about a new kind of town linking, are all in K V Kuppam together. Daleep comes up to our flat and spends a short while talking to us all and listening as he always does while we talk about what we are doing. He then goes on for a further whistle-stop before moving on to visit the BTC site, which he has never seen. Like us all he is very impressed with the superb building and the site with all its trees and flowering shrubs. We follow later to have lunch at BTC- Selvi insists on this of course- and to catch up with Carolyn and David who only flew in last night. It seems that Daleep has indicated that he might be able to come to our school inauguration this week, which would be great. Though who will win the debate about what names go on the commemorative stone is yet to be seen! My money is on Daleep remaining as anonymous as always, but perhaps Dr J will prevail?
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Blog 12 In which we have a serious talk about money and I try to remember how to teach nursery children
The next day, once Sekar has been released from a team meeting with the Director, we sit with Mr Immanuel and talk practicalities. Just exactly what are we about to set up? How many teachers with there be; will there be an ayah too? Will the children be fed/ have a milk snack? Are we seriously thinking of mixing in some elderly people too and if so how many? Will they have a meal provided and if so, who will cook it? And most important of all, where are the funds for all this going to come from in future, given that the Bishopston-Kuppam Link exists only really in name now and is certainly no longer able to raise money.
By the end of our meeting, during which Mr Immanuel is his usual gently helpful and very practical self, we have decided on one teacher to begin with, to be assisted by an ayah. The numbers of children will probably be low at the beginning because many of them in Sitaramanpet are enrolled at the government balwadi, and if they switch to our school the teacher would lose her pay- so not very diplomatic! We will run the school for a month, during which a lean-to will be put up on the side of the building, so be a rest place for trainee teachers ( since the room we had planned for them will now be for elderly). During this time also Sekar will do a ‘wealth-mapping exercise’ to find out those elderly in Sitaramanpet who would most deserve a place. We would work on 10 elderly, and we need to buy them a television. The ayah could cook for them and also make a milky drink for the children. Some of the elderly may well choose to help look after the children at times. If numbers grow at the playcentre to a maximum of 20 then we will have to consider employing a second teacher. For the centre to work as a model for teaching purposes the ratio of children to teacher must be kept at this level, especially as we are expecting the teacher to be able to talk to student teachers about the model. As we talk back and forth about this very new idea of an integrated centre for children and the elderly, making it up as we go along really, figures and sums of money become confusing, so Sekar is going to prepare a costing for us. We hope that after paying a connection charge of Rs 1600 we will be able to have our water tap soon – this coming week. This is to be the stop-gap until our tube well is sunk. Ditto connecting the electricity, once our night-watchman is in place.
I then go back home to try to think-against the background of the crow-racket- about how one teaches nursery aged children. I last actually taught that age group back in the 90s, and haven’t even worked in a school now for 5 years, so I need to refresh myself, big time! Fortunately it does come back to me when I read my ‘Highscope’ manual- an American publication about an early years scheme, with emphasis on children’s cognitive development, which dates back to the 60s. I used their approach when I was a nursery teacher. It is based on the notion that a child constructs his/her reality by interacting with the environment actively. The role of the teacher is to support that interaction by observing and discussing the child’s work ( play) as s/he makes choices. I am inspired by the method all over again as I read, even after all these years. It speaks to my own beliefs about the importance of people being able to make their own choices and being empowered. It also chimes very happily with the philosophy for development which is behind the original vision for Ruhsa and equally with the words of Gandhi which are on the wall in the hostel building here:
Ask yourself
Recall the face of the poorest and the most
Helpless man whom you may have seen and ask yourself if
The step you contemplate is going to be of any use to him.
Will be gain anything by himself?
Will it restore him to a control over his own life destiny?
In other words will it lead to swaraj or self-rule
For the hungry and the spiritually starving millions?
I put some ideas together for the five days of training we have planned for next week, to begin on Thursday 29th January.
Blog 11 Five feel frazzled and fraught in Chennai
Up at 5 with crow’s chorus, although my research shows the little b***ders only shut up for a brief hour or so all night. We set off for Chennai in a taxi at 6, witnessing just how many people are already up and about their business as we drive through the villages. Sekar tells us he gets up at 5 every day to open up the little shop they have in their home and to feed his daughter before she leaves for college in Vellore. His wife would prepare the full cooked breakfast too, none of your quick bowl of cereal. After a couple of hours on the road we need to stop for breakfast, so watch in amazement as the taxi driver crosses the central reservation of the two lane motorway and drives a hundred yards or so against the flow of traffic in order to park in front of desired restaurant. No wonder life in India is short and perilous.
Once we get to Chennai the fun really starts. I wouldn’t have thought it possible for the city to become even more choked and congested but over recent years without doubt the number of motor vehicles has increased enormously. Far fewer of the old rounded Hindustan cars too and many more modern ones. But of course the cows are still grazing the centre and verges of the road and amidst the increased prosperity there are still pavement- dwelling families. Finally we make it to the Balar Mandir Research Foundation, which was established in 1948 by a German woman Mrs Ellen Sharma, who was a pioneer in India of early childhood/kindergarten education. Now it has grown to be a huge site with an orphanage and schools going right from pre-school to higher secondary. They also have a resource centre where they sell wooden toys that are made on site. We visit the pre-school which seems really delightful. The ratio of children to teachers is at most 10 to 1A, and they are clearly learning through play and interaction with the adults, who seem to treat the children gently and with respect. In one class many of the children are wearing a uniform dress or shirt in red and green checked material and we learn that these are the orphanage children. The school serves primarily the poorest children in Chennai. The children certainly do seem happy and confident as they demonstrate a dance and songs they are preparing for a festival. Sekar teaches them a song and they are very quick to pick up words and actions.
From here we go to the resource centre and I am amazed and delighted to see the range of toys available. I go through the catalogue whilst Andy works out quickly what one of everything would cost. We pretty much buy everything and it costs £250. At this point Wendy and Pam and Brian announce that they wish to cover this cost, which is generous and great for our funds. It then takes an inordinate and Indian amount of time to pick and pack and wrap our purchases, during which all the party, especially the chaps, flag visibly and appear to be losing the will to live. However spirits are very much revived when we go to eat at a restaurant which serves food which you’d recognise from your local Indian takeaway. We even have icecream. Much as we enjoy eating locally in K V Kuppam, particularly when cooked by Selvi, it is like a small holiday to eat here.
From here we then venture again into the hellish Chennai traffic to go to Higginbothams book shop. I last visited this shop in 1991 during my first trip and it is an amazing institution- a leftover from the days of the Raj but at the same time extremely Indian in its chaos and convoluted way of working. I recognise the grey-haired woman who helps us from that first trip and tell her how helpful she was then- 18 years ago. She asks me to write a note to her boss to that effect and tells me a tale which seems to mean that they no longer appreciate her work.... Buy some books for school. Then on to a fabric shop where I make two purchases despite Andy the money-holder’s cunning plan to prevent this by staying in the vehicle.
After an exhausting trip home we finally get back around 11 at night. Poor Sekar still has to get back to his home and be up at 5 the next morning.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
BLOG 10: A Manblog from a Sceptical Scientist
You may be wondering what the heading of Blog 8 was all about – a monkey stole my hat. Brian and I went cycling up to the local temple, about 5km to the north of Kuppam. It is a very beautiful ride through coconut groves and past a couple of schools where the pupils shriek with disbelief when they see a white face and a bald head. The temple is at the top of a flight of many hundred steps, and as one starts the ascent there is suddenly an escort of local monkeys. Stopping to mop my brow, I take off my baseball cap and place it on a ledge, before panting off up the next flight, then realise I have left my hat below. Never mind, there are no other souls about so no danger of losing it – after all only mad Englishmen cycle in the gathering heat of another hot day – and I resolve to pick it up on the way down. View from the top to the north and Andhra Pradesh are stunning and there is even a deep pool at the foot of the temple into which a local lad dives leaving his little sister screaming with terror by the edge – not afraid of the pool but of this big scary Englishman smiling at her. On way down duly look for hat but no sign of it – monkeys are the only candidates so I have asked all locals in vicinity of temple to keep eyes posted for a monkey wearing a baseball cap. Ride to and from temple makes me realise that Indian bikes do not have gel saddles moulded to the contours of the bum – ouch, I’m sore.
After a coffee at Paul’s hotel we cycle through the throngs in downtown Kuppam on our way to another delicious meal chez Selvi before cycling down to see how Sally, Pam and Wendy have got on with their interviewing of the candidates for the teaching posts in the playcentre. Well, what a surprise, the interviews were due to be held between 10 am and lunchtime and the last interview is just underway at 4.30 pm. Where did the rest of the day go – don’t ask, we are on Indian time. On our return home, I go online and google water divining, hoping to find the results of some definitive scientific study to reinforce my scepticism. Alas no, so decide to try my own version balancing lemon on end of my hand (there being no coconuts to hand and I am no longer able to shin up trees) whilst copying the head wobbling and strange to-ing and fro-ing of the water diviner 2 days earlier. My disciple Brian is dutifully walking behind with reserve lemon. We all dissolve into hysterical laughter having utterly failed to feel the force.........Still, if the diviner does find the water I’ll eat my hat – oh dear I remember I’ve lost it.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Blog 9 Inspired by Obama
A quick blog before we set off to the playcentre for a day of interviewing people for the posts of teacher and caretaker. Hopefully the word-of-mouth telegraph will have worked and there will be queues of candidates. Yesterday was a mixed one, because the head of RUHSA came by for his weekly visit and so I found myself spending more hours than I would have wished in his company. I had drawn a sketch of Sekar which he saw and then asked ‘Why haven’t you drawn me?’ That question may help to give an indication of the man. Daleep, founder of RUHSA believed that after you had helped the people to empower themselves, after you had left, they would say ‘We did this ourselves’ Dr John believes that there should be photos and commemorative tablets everywhere to let the world know what RUHSA directors have done... So a day of teeth-gritting, but which culminated in us sitting in front of our neighbour’s television watching the inauguration of Obama. So we went to bed with his wonderful words of hope for the future ringing in our ears.
Now back after another mixed day of fortunes, momentarily exhausted by it all and the heat and the bl***y crows, but now fortified by some nasty biscuits. Plus a quick call to Mr Immanuel – as chipper and positive as always – has also perked me. Can we do it? Yes we can, of course! Or Mr Immanuel’s equivalent ‘There will not be any problem!’
We are the first arrivals this morning at the playcentre, although people have been told to come for interview at 10. Oh dear I think, maybe now that everyone has a mobile phone, the old bush telegraph no longer works. Then people do begin to arrive- but all appear to be there to tell us why they should continue to get One Candle Fund grants. We persuade one girl that she might like to apply for the teacher’s job. She turns out to be the sister of Balagi’s friend who was killed in a bike accident two years ago at Pongal. Then her mother comes and I say how sorry I am about her loss. She understands me non-verbally and we end up with arms around each other, both sobbing. Then I manage to get help to talk more to her and discover that a year before her son’s death her daughter died in child-birth. She had four children, two are now dead, a third, her son, was born deaf and does not speak. So the only hope for the family to earn is the daughter whom we have been supporting in college. We have been told that she is now working at BTC as a tailor, to make enough to pay for her correspondence course. The mother and daughter are pitifully, but not surprisingly, very grateful to be told that we will not therefore cut off her grant. This is such a hard country to survive in. A conversation with any group of village women will bring out terrible stories of family tragedies. No wonder Pam became to overwhelmed back in 2004. The One Candle Fund has at least provided some hope in some families, but it would be easy to find it all overwhelming.
At last, just as Wendy and I are beginning to despair that there will be any applications for teaching, we discover that some of the young women are here to be interviewed. With Sekar’s interpreting help we then interview seven women, predominantly young, around twenty, but one or two a little older. We are very encouraged indeed by the standard of their responses and at the end of the interviews tell them that we will be running a six day training next week and the week after, for all seven applicants, at the end of which we will select our teacher. We also talk to a man whose house is very near to the playcentre, who is prepared to act as our night-watchman. Not sure yet how or what we will pay him.
Realise that I haven’t yet written about another idea/ project which is taking shape. Pam has been asked by Carolyn to look for a project which would benefit from a £3,000 donation from the charitable trust associated with BTC. It has been suggested that it might be used to fund a day-centre for elderly people and we have already been to see one such centre, set up in the village of Kilalathur.See photo Blog 8. All of us were very favourably impressed by it. About 30 elderly poor people, who have little or no family support, go five days a week to the centre, where they can read the paper, watch television, do a programme of exercises with the group ‘animator’ and do puzzles and play games. They were very forthcoming indeed when Pam asked what they liked about the centre. Chiefly they like the social contact with friends but it is also a relief to be away from family problems. Since India’s economic revolution many families have been separated, as the children move away for work and the parents chose not to leave their home villages to go with them. At the centre the elderly people also receive a simple meal which is cooked daily by two volunteers from the local SHG. Meals are also sent to two elderly people who are house-bound. It is a fairly cheap project, but very much one that the recipients appreciate, it seems to us.
We have begun to wonder whether we might consider opening such a centre, and using our new playcentre building. There is a separate room which might serve for the elderly, and trainee teachers needing a room away from the children might be able to make do with a simple lean-to. Both children and old people might well benefit from and enjoy the contact. It would also make our money –sums work better, we think... we are really quite excited about this new plan for an integrated project, which could be quite a good and replicable model. Some of us OAPs quite fancy a life out here in old age, though are not entirely sure we’ll manage the sitting crossed-legged on the floor that the elderly here find second nature.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
BLOG 7 In which we watch a water-diviner with a coconut and hold our first playcentre meeting.
Sitting under the Crow tree as usual at 10 to 10 at night. Dr Rita from RUHSA comes by and laughs at the image of internet access and emailing in rural India. I explain that we are situated just the correct number of feet from the offices and internet server. Only hazards are vicious mosquitoes and shitting crows.(Don’t bother to come to India if you can’t handle excrement of all varieties. )All around us are local people, mostly we assume the relatives of people who are in the RUHSA hospital, who are settling down for the night.
Yesterday - Saturday 17th was a great day with the meeting of self help group women about the playcentre, but before the meeting began we went out into our coconut grove to observe the local water man - who has the 'power'- who had been asked by RUHSA engineers to divine us a place to dig our tube well.
Cue much rolling of coconut on the palm of his hand, whilst carrying a forked stick. Chief sceptical scientist of the party, Andy, tolerates what he considers to be an elaborate charade, for only so long. At the end of the water man's performance he has found what he considers a good water source, where 5 streams meet. He is also able to tell the engineer how far down they will have to dig and what the ground will be like- ie not too hard rock. Poor RUHSA engineer still in a quandary as they prefer the geologist and the diviner to be in agreement. I think how much I would like them to dig the well whilst we are here so that I could watch Andy’s face when the water came gushing forth....
The meeting with the women from the Self help groups goes really well. Sekar explains what the playcentre will be ie a model playcentre with teacher training resource centre. The women agree to find names of possible children from their villages, and to spread the word about needing a teacher and a night-time caretaker. Applicants are to fill in a form with basic facts about themselves and their education level and to be told to come for interview on Wednesday. Generally there seems to be a lot of enthusiasm for the project.
Sekar then asks the women to tell us how we should decide in future about who should receive money from the One Candle Fund. There have been some mutterings about a few recipients who are now known to have finished their education and to be working, so should have ceased to be funded. The women are very helpful and we tell them that in future all decisions will be taken with reference to these criteria. It is difficult of course in a country like India where so many could benefit and where there is no welfare state to cushion the impact of tragedies and illness in families.
Afterwards they approach us separately, some to remind us that we have met them on previous visits, some to tell us awful stories of family hardship, some to invite us to come and ‘sapida sapida’, eat at their homes. We all agree that the playcentre is a really good building in a lovely situation. At the back of the building we watch through the ironwork grill as a man herds his goats? sheep?- difficult to tell apart out here- into the field.
Just before ending this blog my battery died, so Pam and I left the internet tree and picked our way through the darkness and the sleeping bodies. Where is that loud snoring coming from? No problems with insomnia here apparently, where people just put their heads on the hard concrete, bring their covers over their heads, and go to sleep.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Blog 6 – A meeting to plan for our month’s work
Pam and Wendy and I meet with Sekar to plan for what has to be done if the school –No Name Playcentre- is to open during our month’s visit. By the way Wendy has suggested Little Monkeys- as in Jumping on the Bed I suppose. I like the suggestion of activity and liveliness. I think of one of our first pupils in Barbara Jennings playcentre, Manjula the Ayah’s son who was to very strongly left-handed, and whom Jane called ‘ Scallywag’ for his impishness.
Meeting turns out after all to include 3 more RCOs – rural community officers- so lots of opportunities for them to talk over each other in loud and heavily –accented English and Tamil. More than once Pam has to cover her ears and shout Stop- I cannot hear what you are saying! In a very productive meeting lasting an hour and a half we decide to convene a meeting tomorrow Saturday for all the SHGs- Self Help Groups- in Kavanur, the next village along (name?) and Seeteramanpet. We rough out an agenda for what we need to cover and because Sekar has worked with the SHG model for so many years with great success, he keeps suggesting that we discuss everything with the villagers – participatory model at grassroots. From this larger group of people we will appoint a sub-group who will take responsibility for managing the school – rather like school governing bodies do in England. But the larger umbrella group or Federation will be informed regularly by the sub-group of how the school is going.
We discuss also other practical task e.g connecting the electrics – not too much of a problem once we have a night-watchman, and sinking the bore-well. I put cat among pigeons by saying ‘ We have no money. Who will pay for it?’ Sekar says I will ask CMC and there is general eye-rolling and head-waggling around the room. I translate this as ‘ Ha ha if you think CMC are making a quick decision you have to be having a laugh, Mrs Sharly’ So then I ask if the school could actually open without the well being sunk? Yes they agree it could as there is tap nearby which could be used temporarily. Great I think- no need to give up right now in despair and go home. I ask questions about what will be linked up to the water supply e.g taps or toilets or waste pipes. From looks around the table my total ignorance of all matters sewage and plumbing is matched by that of the RCOs. Still, Sekar will find out.
Other matters to be sorted include locating what materials remain from the old schools i.e furniture and toys. Then we need to commission new stuff pdq from the brilliant carpenters who made equipment for us in 2004. We talk about what we will require in the way of staff, and one of the RCOs at this point suggests that the caretaker /gardener could be a multi-purpose person and also function as the teacher. Queue Pam to turn to me with rolling eyes to mouth something which indicates she thinks he isn’t quite the full shilling. She has been irritated by him belching all through the meeting anyway and Wendy is hiding her snorts of mirth. Cultural difference I think they call it...Anyway, thanks to good old Sekar, who generally can be relied on to have his ‘Thinking Head on’ we decide on one teacher who cannot be paid less than Rs 2000 per month (minimum wage now Rs 80 per day) and that teacher, hopefully, to be assisted by the teacher from the government balwadi next door, who is paid for by the government. A bit of a Cunning Plan I think but just hope it will work- depends on agreement of In Charge person for Balwadi teachers, with whom we hope to meet early next week after Pongal is finished.
Sekar says that he and the RCOs will as a team take responsibility for organising teachers from balwadis to come to the model playcentre for training courses. The idea is that the fees charged for that training will go to pay the costs of the teacher and other running costs of the playcentre. We set aside next Weds 21st Jan for selecting a teacher. I recount to Wendy and Pam the hilarious time Jenny, Jane and I had when we selected the teachers for the original Barbara Jennings playcentre. How they poured in through the door, the halt and the sick and the elderly, all assuring us that they were up to the job. Still, we did select 6 women that day who all turned out to make excellent teachers and who were great advocates of the Play method of learning. So fingers crossed for this time. The selection will be crucial as this teacher will have to model the method and be able to teach others about it in a confident way- quite a big ask.
Blog 5 Happy Cow Pongal! In which we encounter some lovely lads and beautiful girls, who are benefitting from the One Candle Fund and are delighted
Blog 5 Happy Cow Pongal! In which we encounter some lovely lads and beautiful girls, who are benefitting from the One Candle Fund and are delighted to see us; eat another great feast and play an India v England cricket match.
The second day of Pongal is called Mardu Pongal or Cow Pongal, so you can expect to see some beautifully decorated cows, with ribbons on their horns. We have set aside today to go to Seeteramanpet to catch up with some of the families whom Brian and Pam got to know during their visits to collect information on life in an Indian Village for the educational website (www.kvkuppam.info) We cycle along the back way through Kavanur and Pam exclaims frequently at how much greener everywhere seems since our last visit-so plainly some rainy seasons have been better.
As we round the corner into Seeteramanpet we are spotted immediately by an alert Raghu who greets Pam immediately in clear English. Pam is almost moved to tears, because last time she saw him he was struggling to teach himself English early in the morning and late at night. Since then Raghu has had support to attend college in Vellore and has achieved extremely well. Prospects for a good job are excellent for him as he enters his last two terms. It subsequently becomes apparent that several of the village families have been awaiting our arrival all week, knowing that we are at RUHSA. A large feast is served to us by Raghu’s mother and other families are equally keen that we should take some refreshment with them.
They are so obviously genuinely pleased to see us and what follows is a really heart-warming day. We visit the daughters of one family, whose sadness about not being able to stay in school because their widowed mother could not afford it, led to Pam trying to find a way to help them. This was the story – one of many which she heard during her stay, of hardship and difficulty- which prompted the invention of the One Candle Fund. The name of this Fund comes from the Chinese saying ‘ It is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness’ Through the fund, which provides a small bursary to children who would otherwise be forced to leave secondary school early, so far 32 children have benefitted. The two daughters of that family have succeeded really well at school and now college. Their widowed mother was always determined to get a good education for her girls and is clearly now very proud of them.
We notice also that there is a general appearance of improvement in the village e.g some new houses and sprucing up. This we take to have been made possible because a Self Help Group of weavers is now employed to weave cloth for BTC- Bishopston Trading Company. This has improved the regularity and rate of their pay considerably.
On our return to RUHSA that evening I write a poem about the day, which has been a very happy one for us all. It is uplifting to talk to young people who are so committed to using their chance at education in order to change their lives.
The Magic Box
I will put in my box
Raghu grown-up and greeting Pam in English
Balaji taller, more gaunt, with a black beard
Suresh mature and full of wit and sparkle
I will put in my box
The tiny beautiful mother serving us a feast
Banana leaves, crossed legs on the floor
And their delight at my ‘kunjum Tamil’
I will put in my box
Swarms of small children ‘What is your name please?
Photo please, one more photo
Garlands of acid yellow and purple flowers
The men showing off their speed weaving and India versus England cricket
I will put in my box
The beautiful girls who are the story behind the One Candle
The mother with new wet Mehndi hands
And her fat baby boy, woken to a sea of strange faces
I will put in my box
‘ Happy Pongal’, decorated cows, chickens riding on a motorbike
Rangoli colours and temple racket through the night
Balaji’s dead friend, his sadness and his quiet help with Brian’s bike
And the walls will be made of our attempts at each other’s language
With in each corner a candle of love across the cultures
And all of it wrapped in their gratitude for a chance at education
And our delight at the chance treasured and cherished
Friday, January 16, 2009
Blog 4- just a brief moment of frustration at the end of a lovely day
BLOG 3 First day of Pongal
Anyway, today is Pongal, so we are bidden to visit Sekar’s home in Nagal for ritual stuffing of the English villagers. Since Selvi has lent us some pans and plates we can now have porridge for breakfast- oh joy, oh bliss. Not sure I ever will fancy rice and curry first thing in the morning. Imms rings us to say that ‘the rickshaw fellows are ready’, - Sekar has arranged it for us it seems. There is a worrying moment when it appears that the chap believes he really can push all five of us into one auto-rickshaw. Even post –Cambridge diet this is never going to be a goer. Then his fellow driver turns up and five into two will go, so off we putter with the usual racing between the two drivers, games of chicken on the wrong side of the road whilst over-loaded lorries bear down upon us.
Sekar is waiting for us with his baby granddaughter Bala in his arms. She is about 5 months old and a really perky little girl, full of interest in everything and very smiley. As usual we are invited to sit in the room inside which has one very large bed in it and a couple of chairs. Sekar stays with us whilst his wife and two daughters prepare food for us. We start with sweetened grain which I mistake for Pongal rice but is called kesari. Then we have payasam, which is sweetened vermicelli in a milky drink, with ‘woray’ ie lentil burgers- an odd combination I think, but ok. Then comes the sweetened Pongal rice and then a pause in the face-stuffing. We play pass the baby and coo a lot at Bala. Meanwhile Sekar is telling us all sorts of very interesting things about how life has changed in India recently. Encouraged by a government ( Tamil Nadu) grant of Rs 20.000 to girls if they pass matriculation at tenth standard, many families, even poor ones, have delayed marrying their daughters. Girls – as in England- are now out-performing boys in school. There are also attendant problems with more divorce and women expecting more of their men! Oh dear, what a Pandora’s Box it is to educate women!! They also have problems with more people feeding their families fast food, and with subsequent obesity. And they now have to have programmes to teach young mothers nursery rhymes as they are being forgotten. Sekar tells us about a programme they had in one local district which was Unicef funded, to encourage participation by fathers in the upbringing of children. It appears to have had considerable impact.
Forth then for a walk to the coconut plantation which was planted in Daleep’s time as Director of RUHSA, and used for some years as a training area for the work on agricultural development. This entails a walk through what Wendy christens Shit Avenue. I am at first mercifully oblivious of the use the entire village appears to put this lane to, until Pam draws our attention to it. I am torn between wanting not to look and fearing the consequences if I don’t. And then Pam sets up with a running commentary about what she is observing. I tell her I had no idea she was the Dr Gillian Mc Keith of our party and that if she will not shut up I will put her on my blog tonight. Aaaargh. The coconut grove is lovely and peaceful and there is an ambitious canal building project right nearby. We peer down a disused well and feel extremely poorly. Ooh-er. And more ooh-er when Wendy says she wouldn’t at all mind skipping down those open steps.
On the return trip down what Andy calls Cack Row, Sekar tells us that there are government grants to encourage people to put indoor sanitation in their houses but still many people ‘will not avail’. Too right I think. Back to Sekar’s house for seconds out, round two of the stuffing contest. Delicious green bean curry and other such.
Sekar calls us the auto rickshaws then and we make our way home. I sit under a tree and am able to access emails and post second blog, whilst a granny with a baby sits very close and – I suspect- is importuning me for money. I show her the picture of my son and his son which is my desktop and am able to tell her who they are in my small-small Tamil. Later back at the flat I discover that enough time has elapsed for some of our party to think they could face more food, so off we go to Paul’s, taking with us some of the bag of lemons Selvi gave us yesterday. Our luck is in! Paul is prepared to make us dosi, which serve us as pancakes, great to finish off a Pongal day of feasting, with lemon and sugar. East meets west, modern versus ancient, the mass of contrasts and contradictions in Indian life seem to have increased and become more pronounced in recent years. I suppose that technology has rushed India through the twentieth century and into the twenty-first, but some aspects and people and places remain almost untouched by the revolution.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Blog 2 We get to see the inside of the school building and to eat 2 of Selvi’s wonderful feasts
After an exciting moment or two in Imms office with a computer guy I find that I can now access RUHSA’s broadband via wi-fi on my laptop. Enter 3 ‘Engineers’ who have been working on our school building. Not entirely sure what kind of engineers, since they seem to have responsibility for septic tank and for sinking a well and for putting in the electrics, but hey, who cares as long as they get the job finished. They offer to go to the school site with us and with Sekar, so off Andy and I set on our stately bicycles, wobbling through the crowded streets of K V K amongst the people and goats and chickens, attempting to avoid potholes, and terrifying buses as they blast past us. Safely at the school coconut grove we at last get to see behind the grills into ‘our’ new and lovely building. It seems to have been finished to a high standard- CMC wouldn’t allow anything less I think. There are lots of lockable cupboards for play equipment, windows well-placed for light and ventilation, lots of electric sockets, not just one but TWO toilets- one for adults, one for children, a kitchen area with a sink – no running water of course- and a tiled floor. Into the floor of the open area between the children’s room and the adult resource centre, they have sunk a smallish rectangle which is already filled with sand – our first play area!
We exclaim in delight at everything and learn how to make a rough attempt at ‘beautiful school’ in Tamil. They tell us that all electrical fittings are ready at CMC in Vellore but will not be fitted until there is a caretaker on site. That would be asking for thieving they seem to say, as the school doesn’t have any very near neighbours. We will have to think about who might be that caretaker and what the arrangements might be. Perhaps s/he might want to have use of the coconut grove in return for looking after the building.
Then we go behind the building to marvel at the septic tank. They tell us that the CMC geologist has suggested one spot for digging a well, but the local diviner has suggested a spot at the exact opposite end of the site. It seems that usually CMC and RUHSA have relied fairly heavily on the local man’s knowledge. Ideally what they want is for the trained geologist and the diviner to agree! We will also have to think about and discuss with RUHSA who is going to fund the sinking of the bore well.......More of this in a few days after Pongal festivities which commence tomorrow, doubtless with tuneless wailing and drumming at 4a.m
We get a text from Pam saying we are invited to Bishopston Trading Company, to the guesthouse, by Selvi, who as we know is a wonderful cook. We don’t need to be asked twice so with a jaunty ‘Nandri, arugu parla’ (thank you- beautiful school) off we wobble. As we approach the enormous site for BTC I am amazed at just how beautifully the site has been landscaped in the three years since I last saw it. There are flowering shrubs all along the front and as you cycle up the approach road you can see how much has been done to green the grounds. Around the guesthouse in particular there is now a well-developed garden with hibiscus and roses. Selvi welcomes us like long lost family and then proceeds to treat us like visiting royalty. Sit there, you rest, let me serve you with fresh lime juice, etc etc. The quick meal she had promised must take her in the end at least two hours to prepare and it is quite delicious, just as we have remembered. She offers chappati with or without oil, which tells me she has remembered from Carolyn’s visit that we westerners try to avoid too much fat if possible. No wonder all the comments in the visitors’ book are so very positive, especially with regard to Selvi.
Andy and I cycle home to RUHSA mid-afternoon, whilst the others take a rickshaw taxi, since Brian’s cycle is not yet quite sorted. Back in Imms office it appears that multiple photos and forms are not sufficient for the local police- another form is to be completed now. Security arrangements for foreigners visiting the area have recently been tightened again since the Mumbai atrocity. If having everyone fill in more forms does constitute effective anti-terrorism measures? I catch poor Arabella as she is leaving the office to beg help with blogging and she is patient and helpful. First blog safely posted!
No sooner am I back at the flat than it is time to set off in auto-rickshaws for supper with Selvi. Goodness she will wear herself out trying to look after us. Another great meal, and this time with Adam who is staying at the guesthouse this week. He is working for an organisation which is concerned with fair-trade in fashion. He is wearing a lungi in very stylish manner. I smile as I think of Jenny Byrne and how she always talked of tying giant nappies. Still, cool gear for chaps in the heat of India.
I receive a text from Rosie telling me she has accessed the blog and enjoyed it, within a half an hour of me creating it. When I think of visiting with Rosie as a child in 1991 and how we couldn’t even make a phone call home from the village!
This school of ours is going to need a name, as Dr John- who is much concerned with getting the inauguration planned- has pointed out. Any ideas out there? I fancy something child-friendly rather than anything with Bishopston or any other English name in it. Do let me know what you think. I like elephants but Andy thinks that might be seen as a reference to the ‘big size’ English folk behind the project!
A word to any of you reading this who have spent time here at RUHSA: Annandan and Ambaragan are still summoned with the same inimitable Imms voice, which again always makes me think of Jenny. Yesterday Imms told us that Ambaragan’s name means ‘love’ – the amba bit, and ‘handsome’, the aragan bit. Isn’t that a treat? Can you imagine how embarrassed the poor man became as he heard this explained to us?
Big train just roared through the middle of the flat. Time to put out the milk bottles and the cat and go to bed. No, things haven’t changed that much Jenny, I’m joking....
