First day at Pachaikili- a right royal welcome!

What a welcome awaits us!

 

Flowers and confetti for us all!

 

 January 6^th

 

It’s been an eventful day, full of a range of emotions, as so very often when we come here. By eleven we had filled in forms for the police, had our first puncture repaired, mended Pam’s saddle so that it no longer pinches her bum, acquired a bike for Andy, and were ready to set off for the Pachaikili play centre just as the fierce sun was overhead, at midday. We love that ride along the back route and this morning it was especially beautiful. A row of women in bright saris were standing in vivid green paddy water, bending from the waist to weed. As usual, cries on all sides of ‘Vannakam’ as we sped past. 

Our arrival at the play centre was something to gladden the heart!  As Pam remarked later, we do have to come here to be spoiled and treated like royalty, and of course within our usual lives this is not something that would ever happen. The teachers and ayah, and the other support staff greet us with such warmth and such evident love. This time after embraces, some tears, help with bikes and bags etc we were ushered to sit on the ‘throne’ chairs, me next to Andy and the Morrises next to each other. They then presented us with a bouquet of flowers between each couple and suddenly the children were ushered forward to shower us with coloured foil confetti. This was where we left them a year ago, and it is wonderful to be back.

The children then went next door for their midday nap and we were served food- the regular meal prepared for the elderly, who had also been an enthusiastic part of the welcome, plus some extra dishes the staff had made especially for us. After this we were offered the chance of a nap, like the children, but we felt we must avoid this today as some of our number are still on UK time and have been awake for long hours of the night. Sekar had promised to come this afternoon, from RUHSA, to discuss with the teachers what we would like to happen in the next couple of weeks. He is an invaluable asset for translations and because of his understanding of pre-school education. Once he arrived we were able to explain that we would like to do a training day, the focus of which will be developing a simple tool for recording what they observe of the children’s progress. This will be useful both for reporting to parents and to demonstrate the value of what they do with the children. We will do this on Saturday 23^rd.

The teachers talked a lot then about the very positive feedback they get from parents, who tell them how some children become more sociable; some show kindness and appreciation to others in the home e.g grandparents, as they have seen the teachers do in the pre-school; some sing songs and dance and tell stories at home that they have learned in school; and many become much better at feeding themselves and are less picky eaters. They also spoke about the Headteacher of the primary school in Seetaramanpet, who has been very positive about the children who have gone on to his school. We think it would be good to visit him to talk about this.

We then raised the subject of the outing for the children, and looked at a date, just after the Pongal celebrations, which might be good if we can organise transport. The children’s Christmas gift this year (from CMC charity fund, to which staff make contributions) was a very nice rucksack. The elderly were given either a sari or a doti (women/ men). I raised the thorny subject of the Christmas gift for the staff. We agreed last year that they should have one month’s salary as their gift at Christmas. Sekar said it is in the pipe line (staff have been on leave, Dr Rita has been away and nothing can happen without her etc etc) and he hopes they may get It next week. I must remember to keep nagging about this. Last year they were given a sari as their gift, after our departure. See last year’s blog for the sorry tale of the saris which could not be given as a personal gift to show our gratitude for what all the staff do to keep the centre running so well. Apparently in the end it was Sekar who went to buy the saris. Pam had the feeling that he had advice about colour etc from the teachers, but I am less sure. They will wear them to school tomorrow so that we can see them. 

The children then woke up from their rest and came to do drama and music activities. We saw several individual children tell stories with great confidence- the hare and the tortoise, the clever hen, and then we saw three children act out the story of the Hare and the Tortoise- all their own idea, not prompted by the teachers. Afterward they did some exercises and of course Brian couldn't resist joining in!

Can you tell he used to be a sports teacher?

 

 The teachers then told us some very sad news indeed. The daughter of Sarida, who used to be our ayah, took her own life just a very few weeks ago. She was in her early twenties and had a very good job working in a tool making factory near Vellore. No one knows the full story of what happened and why, but there is a belief that it was about plans for a marriage. Sarida was estranged long ago from her husband, but more recently he had been concerning himself with plans for this daughter's  marriage and it may be that the girl had her own idea of a love match which she wanted. 

We agreed with Sekar to meet tomorrow morning with him and other RCOs to plan for our schedule of visits to FOV supported projects. We then called in to see Balaji and his family in the village. In the middle of the street yarn was being stretched and sized ready for weaving. It was good to see this sign of weaving activity which seems very much to have been on the decline in recent years.  We met Santi, Balaji’s sister in law and her two children, Danustri and the new baby girl born since our last visit. Pria was also there, looking well and happy and I think more settled into the family than this time last year. Balaji’s disabled father sat quietly on a bed in the room. Raghu’s parents popped in from next door to see us, full of smiles and a warm welcome. I congratulated them that they are soon to become grandparents, as Partiban’s wife Saranya is nine months pregnant. 

At this point Sarida, our former ayah, arrived and immediately threw herself in great distress upon Pam and we embraced her, tried to express our condolences non-verbally, and just held her whilst she wept and wept for her lost daughter. Over the years we have encountered this situation too many times- distraught mothers whose young adult children have taken their own lives as the only solution they seem to feel they have to a family conflict, often about their own future marriages. The statistics for young suicides in India must be shocking. This is a society where the rule of family is very powerful and there is no provision at all for counselling for adolescents, or as far as I can see, for any age. We wonder how on earth Sarida will find her support in her terrible grief. I have an idea about providing some support and advice for young people, perhaps something that could happen after school in the Pachaikili centre and I am again motivated to fight for this whilst we are here this time.  

 We got home just ahead of sunset and the mozzies...