My "family"

There are nine people in my family. They are Mr Gomathanyagam and his wife, his two sons Jeeva and Nallithambi, their wives Maheswari and Uma, and last but not least the grandchildren - Bharathi (15), Nithya (9) and little Yudesh (2). They are a very traditional Indian family as they all live together in the same house. When Indian men marry, their wives have to go and live with the in-laws (quite a hellish prospect for most English people I'm sure!). Each family has one room where they sleep together on the floor, on a "mattress" made of old sarees. Within the house there is also a small living room and a larger kitchen. The sons work on their father's farm and they start the day early at 4.30am to attend to the cows. Mr G is an avid supporter of organic farming and natural practices, and is in many ways ahead of his time. He works hard to change the views of locals and to clean up the town. He also plants thousands of saplings to one day provide shade on the parched streets. He's quite a gem and it's easy to forget that he's in his 70s until he starts getting a little repetitive, like all good grandads! He speaks excellent English (as he used to teach it) so we've enjoyed many long debates about how to put the world to rights. Occasionally we've had the odd misunderstanding, normally related to pronunciation. My favourite being a discussion about criminals and their "terrible rapping". It was a good ten minutes before I realised that it wasn't their musical abilities that he was criticising, he was talking about raping! Mr G's wife cannot speak a word of English but will happily feed me until I pop. She gives me a huge grin when I agree to 2nds, 3rds, 10ths! My First Tamil words were "poordum, nandri" which means "enough, ta". Soon to follow were "small", "rat" and "toilet"! Bharathi has been like a little sister to me. She also speaks English and has on many an occasion acted as translator. She really enjoys having people to stay as it adds a little light relief to her hard schedule of tuition, school and then more tuition. Girls here definitely seem to get a worse deal than the menfolk. Yudesh, as the only male grandchild, gets spoilt rotten. I regularly have to bite my tongue as he never gets disciplined for throwing the most ear-splitting tantrums and often gets a treat instead to distract him. Whilst he's very sweet now I hate to think what he'll turn out like. I find it very difficult to adjust to men taking priority over women. It's simple things like I'll be in full flow talking to someone but if a man wants to speak to me he won't wait, he'll just barge on in there. Same as if I'm talking to a man and another man appears on the scene, I'll cease to exist.

spot the odd one out

The hardest thing to adjust to here is being the minority. It's something which, with the exception of a few holidays, I've never properly experienced. The part of Tamil Nadu I am living in is untouched by tourism. Apart from myself and the other volunteer I live with there are no white people in our town and for miles around. We get some very funny looks and people will even go to the length of crossing the road to touch our skin. I am up to a whole head taller than the local women and most of the men. There are days when I feel like a giant white freak show! This was literally the case when we visited a circus. It took ten minutes to get the children to watch the act instead of gawping at us! It is not rude to stare here and women in particular will gaze intently at me despite smiling and greeting them. It can be a little unnerving (I find myself checking for toothpaste moustaches, bogeys etc!). The staring has even led to a couple of biking accidents - people who were so busy looking backwards they didn't see the potholes approaching! All the guidebooks comment about trying not to see yourself as separate from the community in order to help integration. This can be easier said than done. For instance there are usually two entrance fees for attractions in India - one for Indians, one for foreigners. I was taken aback to find the entry fee for a wildlife park was 20R for Indians and 300R for foreigners!! I can appreciate that attractions need to be affordable for the local population but can't help but feel that if the same happened in England there would be a huge outcry and it would be seen as racist. Things are slowly improving though in my town as people no longer notice me when I walk to work. I never thought I'd appreciate something so insignificant so much.

You know you're getting older when....

Just back from a weekend spent in Kanyakumari, the very southern tip of India where three seas meet. It was my first time on my own tackling the public transport and I'm pleased to say I survived! It was my shortest journey yet, a mere 5.5hrs and 3 changes. I met up with another volunteer who lives in Nagercoil. She's 18 and spent most of the weekend having to explain the meaning of various words that I'd never come across - felt like a right old fart! She also spend a substantial amount of time doing make-up, has visited most of the world already and never missed a ski-season since she was three.....as you can imagine we had soooo much in common! My favourite comment was "I love the way they (Indian street sellers) assume we're made of money" .... I tried to point out that in comparison to the majority of people over here we may as well be made of solid gold. All said and done she was a nice person and we muddled along just fine.
My bus trip down was beautiful. The mountains provided a stunning backdrop to the bright green paddy fields and every now and then there would be a track carpeted with red chillies, laid out in the scorching midday heat to dry. Signs flew past advertising Poomer Panties (Indian knicker company) - brilliant name - definitely "been there, done that and got the T-shirt", the spices play havoc with your guts! I got chatting to the girl sat next to me. She was 22 and due to be married next year. I asked if she was excited. She said it would be the end of her freedom and she would no longer make decisions for herself as her husband would take full responsibility for what she did. She's currently working, but again whether she continues to do this is up to her husband. It must be so strange marrying someone you have only seen in a photo - if that. You also have to go and live with your husband's family which may be far from your own. It made me feel so lucky for all the freedom we have in our country, it's so important to appreciate it, I can't imagine being in her position. I have had long debates with the Grandad in my "family" and there are clearly positives and negatives to both kinds of marriages - arranged and otherwise. One's not necessarily better than the other but it's certainly nice to have to have a choice. It's hard to explain "love marriages" to the Grandad - he said to me that when I get home I must make sure I arrange my "love marriage" as soon as possible!! If only it were that easy!
Kanyakumari is famous for it's sunsets and we saw a really stunning one. The sun slid behind the clouds but they weren't thick enough to hide it. We could still see a big deep pink disc sinking into the sea. Sadly on route to the beach I got a double handed arse grope - when wearing an outfit suitable for the most modest of nuns! I saw red and punched him...I don't think he'll think western women are slags anymore just a touch violent...hope he'll think twice next time.

fawlty towers

The hospital I am based in really does remind me of fawlty towers...especially the operating theatre. There's even a little man who runs around like Manuel! The other day was a classic. We were watching a caesarian when there was a power cut. The generator kicked in but it's a little dodgy so there was a few minutes of disco lighting. Then the surgeon wacked his head on the operating table light. This was quickly followed by a ten minute "domestic" - never have a huband/wife team operating at the same time - disasterous...she gave him a right good bollocking! Just behind where we stand are the light switches so when you're feeling bit tired and you lean against the wall, off go the lights (thankfully not me but the other volunteer). The lady Dr is not too careful where she drops the blood soaked gauze and more often than not doesn't hit the bin. She got a good aim with the placenta, but it made a bit of a splash. There's a cuckcoo clock on the wall and mobile phones always provide regular musical accompanyment. When the operation was over and we'd finally got past a fit of the giggles we were offered a cup of tea. Very civilised you might think, but unfortunately the thermos was right next to a pot of entrails ... I gave it a miss!

tough cookies

There are so many contrasts between nursing in England and nursing over here. The nurses are excellent and are masters of a little bit of everything but are still very much servants to the Dr's. One thing I find staggering is that it appears to be unacceptable for patients to be upset, show they're in pain or scared. I always feel a large part of my job back home is to provide reassurance, explanations of things which might seem frightening or just give someone a hug...but that's not the case in this hospital. Yesterday I watched a lady give birth on a wooden table.....silently! It was as though she wasn't there - the Dr made more noise than she did. When the baby finally slithered out there was no reassuring smiles, handholding, welldones - I gave the exhausted girl a smile and thumbs up which meant bugger all as I think it's the sign for having a drink here - she probably thought I was suggesting heading down the pub for a drink (if only!). Before operations people are blindfolded before being anaesthetised - it must be terrifying as needles are jabbed in without any warning. Indian people certainly are tough and maybe this approach is the way to get people to cope with conditions that we wouldn't be able to handle. No mollycoddling and definitely no feeling sorry for yourself. I spent one day with sickness and diarrhoea...I really don't envy those who are seriously ill. Still, I did have some companionship - a giant cockroach - 3inches long was keeping a close eye on me as I attempted to empty both ends down the toilet whilst simultaneously shooing him away!