BLOG 17

January 29th, 30th. When Sally foolishly earns the soubriquet 'Six dinners' and some determined young men find us a quiet corner for secret talks

Friday and Saturday in Seetaramanpet is the village's big festival of Kaliamman, who from my observations seems to be some kind of Hindu god of misrule. However I will pin Pam down to write more about this, as she has the Knowledge. 9.30 for breakfast with Santhi, mother of first candle fund girls, was our first engagement. One of the girls was there and able to show Pam her certificates and to tell her about her sister who is doing extremely well as a science student. Again- Pam will tell more. In any event, Santhi-who is a widow and who was therefore going to have to let go of her dream of a good education for her girls- has a great deal to be proud of. Her oldest girl who is married and has a beautiful baby who is terrified of large white visitors, is a tailor at the Tailoring Society.

From here- a delicious plateful of dosi and potato curry and coconut chutney having been consumed- I went to the school and Pam and Brian set off for the next round with the bank manager. I think this is round 3, as they have been once to see him, but spoken mainly to the accountant, then again to the branch in Vellore, as they wanted to try to get e-banking. Friday was supposed to be the final visit, but, needless to say, was not quite the end of the process... At the school poor Rani, as the only member of staff not a Seetaramanpet villager, was working alone, with 15 children (most of the Seetaramanpet children having been kept home for the festival) Couldn't help but think about how Ofsted would respond to this- not to mention the Health and Safety police, given she had to do the terrifying milk boiling with no help and all the children buzzing around. We had all been alarmed enough when Sarida the ayah does this on a normal day.

Along the way we had encountered our old friends Suresh and Raghu, home for the day for the festival. I managed to clarify with Raghu's better English that Balaji does have some big issue he wants to discuss with us privately. Privacy in an Indian village is a rare and precious thing, not frequently encountered. We tried meeting at Nagadevi's house first, because they have a separate room with a door on it, but we had been invaded by family - still here after the funeral. Then we all had lunch at Balaji's house, which was lovely, as usual, but today in a house even fuller of people, Shankar's new bride's family having travelled from their home 120k away for the festival weekend. In addition the Guest House crew, Selvi, Dhandabanni, Vidya and Arul had arrived, having been invited the day before by Raghu's father.

After lunch we thought it might be a good plan to drift back round to the school building for this secret chat, but on arrival we found Sekar firmly ensconced with the KVK carpenter. He is the same chap who made all our toys and blocks several years ago. All we required of him was to make 2 benches for the elderly people and some more cars/ lorries for the children. That shouldn't take long I thought. As the rest of the team has reminded me several times recently, I seem to be a slow learner re The Indian Way, given how much time I've spent here. Sekar could make such a consultation last all afternoon, with his frequent questions to me 'Would you like to have country wood?' 'Will you have varnish or, it can be painted?' 'How long you want for each bench. We reckon one and a half metres per person' Clearly he had mistaken me for someone who knew/ cared about carpentry and mathematics....Either Brian or Andy would have made much better conversationalists at this point, but both had made themselves scarce, sensibly. In any case Sekar has some kind of fixation about always asking me, even when I am patently ill-qualified to answer him. It is one of his least endearing ways too, as very often it is Pam to whom he should address himself, since she is the one who keeps track of all the funds and who is the lead on One Candle fund and on the project with the elderly.

Finally we saw a moment when we could cut and run, or cycle anyway, leaving Sekar still rambling on to the carpenter who reckons the benches will take a week. His previous work for us was excellent quality and the toys are still in excellent condition. Arrived back in the village our chaps immediately re-convened and we agreed to try again in Nagadevi's house. At first we were pursued by older women keen to earwig what was going on, but finally we managed to shut the doors and begin our chat. Nagadevi's daughter Seeta was present, and about 6 of the village boys, including Suresh, Seeta's brother. It did turn out to be about Seeta's future studies, as I had thought from the few words Balaji had managed to whisper to me during the week. It was her mother's wish- as voiced to us when we visited her just before she died- that Seeta should do a nursing diploma course. The big problem of course is money for the 3 year course. We had worried that Seeta might now be kept home to look after the family, but Suresh said that they would manage, and that he himself does some of the cooking. Seeta is fortunate to have so many supporters in this lovely group of lads, who made a good case for her, and promised she would be a good student and that it would make a huge difference to her life and to the family also. We talked frankly about worries we had about her coping with the pressures. She will be many miles away in college, and the course is in English. To whom will she turn for support? Given the dreadful solution that so very many young people locally have chosen, when faced with pressure and problems, we had to talk about this. The boys understood immediately what we were hinting at. This seemed to me such an extraordinary discussion in village India, and I think it is a reflection of the extraordinary group of young men, especially Balaji, who, as he says, has missed out on education himself and is determined to get it for others. We promised to help Seeta as a special case, from our own resources.

As we left the village we bumped into a dramatic fierce display of stick dancing, and wonderful drummers, in a procession lit by torches. Another amazing day in village India.

January 30th

I had been invited- nobbled- by a member of the Kamanchamanpet committee, to have coffee with her at 10. Apart from this, we had- extraordinarily- a free day. Foolishly, I had partaken of Selvi's lovely breakfast dosi before setting off. With enthusiasm I have to admit, since taken with lemon and sugar. Pam and Brian took off for Round 4 with Bank Manager, and Andy and Marilyn kindly came with me. I knew that me on my own would have been a dire let-down, since prestige hangs upon just 'how many members are coming'. Rani our teacher met us at the temple and took us to the house, where- a full hour after this dosi-fest- we had to sit and stuff in a mountain more, plus potato curry and chutney and wodai- lentil cakes. Not for the first time I thought of Dawn French the vicar of Dibley and the multiple Christmas dinners. Before we left an elderly man was brought in to be introduced to us. The villagers of Kamanchemanpet are determined that some of their elderly shall benefit from the new project. Cowardly fashion- but it is also true- I kept repeating that they must discuss with the committee.

Returned home to detect Selvi cooking up a storm for lunch, and to find that Pam and Brian had only partial success with the e-banking, though it does look as if it may be going to be possible, and Pam is now the proud possessor of a debit card.