Where this all began...

January 8th

Today has been full on, from visits to goats first thing, via centres for the elderly, to a Farmers' club and a boys' youth club this evening. It's been so interesting and inspiring but we are quite worn out tonight. We cycled a long way in ( of course) the heat of the day and this is always debilitating. So tonight I'm having a small break from blogging and will write tomorrow morning. However I am going to post a poem I wrote yesterday, 7th January, which is the anniversary of the event which was to trigger the founding of the Bishopston Kuppam Link. I hope the poem will be self-explanatory. 

 Women bent double in the paddy fields transplanting rice seedlings.

Tears together shed

Years ago, thirty-eight, a friend reached down into my grief

and lit a path, one candle

better than darkness cursed

to shine and show, small seed sown,

how though the world is wide and far

and language strange, culture and custom odd and surely wrong

so many gods, marriages arranged

a price upon the young bride’s head

still we have seen and known, through friendships grown

hands linked, small phrases learned and shared

stretched to bridge divides

arms in sorrow flung for comfort, tears together shed

and so, this much we know

that difference and distance, wide and far

nothing signify at all.

Put it simply, sing it loud

we are human, undivided, altogether

we are one. 

for Carolyn with love, and I.M Thomas George Whittingham, 30/10/77- 07/01/78.

 

Planning, lunch out and a trip to the police station.

A lovely comment about Pachaikili centre, found by Pam in the visitors' book.

 

January 7^th

This morning we had a meeting scheduled with Sekar and other RUHSA officers, to plan a timetable for visiting projects funded by Friends of Vellore, the organisation under whose umbrella we in the Bishopston Kuppam Link are now placed. In the absence of Dr Rita we met in her room, with Dr Bishwari who stands in for her in her absence, Sekar, currently coordinator of B Sc Medical Sociology courses, Matthew, Training coordinator and until recently coordinator for the Elderly projects, Surendar, a social worker who works with the Youth clubs, and Jeffers, a training officer who runs the stall-fed goats project and the Farmers’ clubs. 

We began with introductions and with some recapping of the work that e.g Matthew and Sekar have done over the years in RUHSA. I had met Dr Bishwara last year and we had exchanged horror stories about kidney stones (though his beat mine since he was afflicted with traumatic pain during a 24 hr train journey!) We talked about the work which Sekar did for many years, setting up a huge number of self-help groups (SHGs) in the KVKuppam block. This was a project fraught with potential problems, but which has proved extremely successful and continues to this day. Through it large numbers of women were empowered to make small changes for themselves and their families, by saving money through the groups and then obtaining small loans, for specific projects. Over the years the groups have gone from strength to strength and RUHSA has been able to use well-established groups to help it set up its own projects. So for example our Pachaikili centre was set up with two SHG groups initially, one taking responsibility for the children and one the elderly. Nowadays one SHG runs the centre as a whole. 

After a very interesting conversation about a range of issues, to do with health education and social projects, Dr Bishwari had to leave, but not before he had listened to my idea about the need to provide counselling for adolescents (and I had explained about the awful numbers of suicides we had known of amongst our friends locally) He told us that the suicide rate in India is roughly twice that in the world generally and I find this very easy to believe. (Actually later that day Pam and Brian bumped into a couple at the hospital outpatients, from a family they met and befriended years ago and learned when Pam  enquired about the man’s brother that he had taken his own life three years ago.) Dr Bishwari told us that they do offer HIV counselling and Surendar has been involved with this. I asked if RUHSA would be able to provide trained counsellors if we did try to get this project going and he said that this would not be a problem. It is not unusual for people to present at the RUHSA hospital after trying to poison themselves and they are counselled by the doctors/ nurses who treat them. There is no specific counsellor role in the hospital, but Dr Bishwari said that it will make a huge difference if such patients are able to speak in confidence about their problems at this time of crisis. He is very sympathetic to the ideas we have been developing about perhaps using the Pachaikili centre for some regular counselling/ advice for youth and I am looking forward to discussing this with Dr Rita on her return.

After Dr Bishwari left us we got down to the business of arranging a timetable of visits, beginning tomorrow with the stall-fed goats on the RUHSA campus, then two centres for Elderly people in Kavanur and Kavasampet. We can cycle to both centres (if the saddle-sore bums allow!) Then in the evening we will go to Nagel to see a Youth club and a Farmers’ club. Next week the current coordinator for Elderly centres, Rakesh, will be back and we will plan to visit the three remaining ones. It seems that at Panamandengi the Elderly centre funded by FOV Sweden has a very lively care-taker, Lalita, who is doing all sorts of interesting activities with the twenty elders who attend there. There is also a government-run balwadi (pre-school) next door to this centre, so there could be potential for getting the young and old together there, as they are at Pachaikili.

Surendar told us that there is a project funded through FOV with young men from his Youth clubs. Eight men were identified who were unemployed and who had dropped out of education before completing secondary schooling (around Standard 9). They were given the opportunity to attend a four-wheeler motor mechanic course at the community college on the RUHSA campus for six months, followed by a six months placement with Mahindra or with Ganesh (Suzuki) motors. That first group have just completed their year and will be offered employment by their placements, if they have worked well. Surendar will arrange for us to speak to some of this group. 

A lovely feast and Santa and Pria who had doubtless been cooking it since the crack of dawn...

All in all it had been a very interesting and useful meeting, and we felt we had made a very good start on our planning. We had then to cycle off (sun overhead, as always) for lunch at Balaji’s house. Here the fatted calf (or carrot/ potato/ green beans) had been prepared by Balaji’s lovely mum Santa and his wife, Pria. This family make us so very welcome and always push the boat out (to use another metaphor!) and though there is no way to prevent this, we do always worry because they really are on a low income and our arrival must mean a real stretch for them. Balaji himself has some work, but not regularly, in plumbing and electrics, his older brother who used to work for BTC does now have a regular office job, but their father is now seriously disabled, does not have the use of his legs and certainly cannot work (he was a skilled weaver) Santa is such a beautiful woman but does look as if she bears the troubles of the family on her shoulders. Although there should be an old age pension and/or a disability pension for the father, we heard last year that he did not get one and we have heard in other contexts that a back-hander may have to be paid before a pension can be received. Life in a country with no welfare state is fraught with dangers, as I have often written before. Balaji for example was working in Chennai during the recent floods and was trapped in the upper stories of a tall building, where helicopters had to drop snacks and a few basics to keep people going. As he said himself ‘India is not safe country; we face many dangers’ 

After a super lunch we had to leave to pop in on Sarida, our former ayah, whom we learned yesterday had recently lost her older daughter Prianka, after she took her own life. Once again we could only provide a shoulder for Sarida to cry on and we regretted very much not having the language to be able to understand what she was saying, nor to be able to express our condolences. However, in such a situation, there is never anything that can be said to take away the pain, and just to hold her and cry with her was at least something we could do.

We left Seetaramanpet then, with promises to return to take coffee with Sarida (in this culture it is always just wrong not to give some token of hospitality to a visitor, and this worried Sarida even in her dire situation.) We then had to dice with death on the main road through KVKuppam, to get to the police station to register ourselves as always, as aliens. En route several over-loaded open lorries tried to make a lorry sandwich of us as they passed in opposite directions. This is no joke nowadays as we have aged and some of us wobble a bit on bikes; so prayers to any kind of deity, with or without an elephant head, have to be offered earnestly. The deed was done remarkably quickly and pleasantly - much easier than this process used to be. I took a photo or two of the stacks of dusty foolscap ledgers and a pile of riot shields, which gave a bit of a flavour of this police station. 

A handy supply of riot shields tucked away in the corner.

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...

This time it's Morrises and Whittinghams back in KVK

 Pam and Brian either doing yoga practice or lying down for another quick rest...

As the usual multitude of crows fly in for the dusk gathering at 6pm,  half  a dozen stop off to perch on the back of a long-suffering cow in the field behind us.

January 5th 2016 

This year we are Pam and Brian Morris and Sally and Andy Whittingham, back for another January happily spent in the rising heat of Tamil Nadu, S India. Andy and I were here exactly a year ago, but it is four years since Pam and Brian's last visit, so they see some very big changes in the environment. We are now here under the auspices of Friends of Vellore (the Bishopston-Kuppam Link having been subsumed now into this much bigger organisation) and this means that we will be visiting all the FOV projects during our stay, as well as doing some more work with the Patchikili centre.  

We set off from a nasty wet grey Heathrow on January 3rd, flying with Sri Lankan airlines (whom I can thoroughly recommend for politeness, food, service and leg room even in cattle class; not so much for their film selection though I watched two excellent ones, Bridge of Spies and Testament of Youth). We stopped over in Colombo but only briefly and arrived around 9 a.m at Chennai. Flying in we saw much evidence of standing water on the land, though the urban flooding which happened just before Christmas is now quite gone. It had some awful consequences, but has also meant that Vellore, our nearest town, now has sufficient water after many years of drought. Many farmers have planted for the first time in years. We were through security/ immigration etc in less than an hour and met by a RUHSA driver, Veejay, which made us a little dismayed as we had memories of near-death experiences back in 2010 when he fell asleep several times at the wheel and did a lot of  terrifying weaving in and out of lorries. We each of us resolved to stay awake to ensure he did too, but alas we failed to do this. However,  you may deduce from this blog that we survived the race down the new motorway!. It took us over an hour to get out of Chennai itself and Pam and Brian were astonished at the enormous increase in car ownership since they were last here. This has taken off with the rise of income of the middle classes, but of course, as with so  much else in India this has happened without the necessary infrastructure, so there just are not sufficient roads and those they have are badly maintained. 

On arrival at RUHSA we were shown to our small flat, the same one which we used last year, and after unpacking we took to our beds to catch up on some of our lost night's sleep. Later we surfaced enough to apply anti-mozzie cream and go to the canteen. More delight from the Morrises at the transformations here, which mean that one can trust it for eating simply and well. Their only memory is of eating there on day one of their first visit, in 2002/2003, and of Emily Georgiou ( ex Bishopston young woman, volunteering at the school at that time) finding a nasty creature in her food. They had never  since returned, unsurprisingly.  

After supper we all strove hard to stay awake as long as possible before retiring for  more sleep, but none of us made it beyond 9. This morning, Tuesday 5th January, dawned with the usual tinny recorded music, birds in the field behind us,  coucal, drongo, green parrots so far, for the bird-watchers amongst you)  and accounts from Brian and Andy of how many trains they had counted in the night. Today has been a great success in that we have wifi passwords, a cable internet connection in our room, and three bikes between us. We have also met up with so many old friends. They are all very conscious that the 'protocol' (Dr Rita's term) requires that she meet with us first, so I had  a few shifty words with one or two before they stopped suddenly and walked away, having caught sight of Dr Rita approaching. It may be an Indian thing; or at least, it is a Dr Rita thing!   

We saw Sekar (much slimmer, which suits him very well), Joseph, Matthew, Sanjeevi the accountant, Vartsala the long-suffering and very humerous secretary, and quite by chance and to our great delight we saw Balaji who had brought his wife Pria to  outpatients'. Anxiously we enquired after her health, yes fine, we are fine, no problem. Pam and I waited whilst our unspoken question hung in the air. Finally Balaji put us out of our misery and told us the wonderful news that Pria is five months pregnant. Cue small weeping from me, followed by laughing at my silliness; but it is such good news after the miscarriage of last year which caused such sadness in the family. 

We then had a chance to meet with Rita over coffee (they have forgotten, of course, since our last visit, that we have 'sacray ille' ie no sugar, for in India the norm is to sugar coffee and it will be boiled in the milk.) All went very well, we remarked upon the incredible progress that has been made with the construction of the new Out- patients' building since the very rudimentary foundation digging which we photographed last year. Rita is on leave from tomorrow as it is her grandson's birthday on the 7th and she is travelling to join family in Kerala. Tomorrow, always supposing that the RUHSA system produces a fourth bike for Brian, we shall venture forth to the Patchikili, as we imagine they will have been half expecting us since yesterday.

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Andy gets stuck in (using right hand only) to the third meal of the day, all of them a variation on curry and rice plus or minus a chappati or dosi. This evening the curry was brinjal (aubergine) with tomato rice and was deliciious and entirely free of creatures...