All aboard the off-road express...

Last week we made our first village trip in just over a month. This time we were looking forward to seeing people again but unsure of what to expect as we were moving bases from our friend’s house (the one who got married and caused uproar after the last time we visited – apparently, in the village if a lone man visits a woman on her own in her house and they ‘like’ each other, that’s the wedding over and done with…when this was explained to us, we realised it hadn’t been exactly planned, hence the reason we were totally unaware of the prospect when we visited the week before!) to the church building up the road, in another part of the village. Despite the small size of the village (possibly about 300 families in all) there are many splits and divisions, so even just to move up

the road is like going into new territory as we had never visited this part before. One thing we did know what to expect though was that the pastor had kindly built a toilet (hole in the floor set-up, course!) in our honour. The village now has three toilets - the rest of the three hundred households who don't have one are happy to use the bushes, but we were quite glad of our little concrete cubicle when we got there as it was the only privacy we had, even if the door didn't close properly and there was a hole at the top of the back wall...

On arrival we direct our three-wheeler towards the church. We drive up the main road and looking over at the church and at the ground in between realise there is no ‘road’ to church. We pile out, leaving our tuk-tuk man to figure his way through the scrub and along some kind of pathway towards the building. He stops at the gateway which leads into this part of the village – the church building and a small cluster of houses. The first little house is the one where we drop our bags. Its two small rooms are dark and damp and unlived in. Apart from one window covered by a unicef tarpaulin there is no other way for light to enter other than through the gap under the roof as the doorway is also covered by a sheltered corridor. We try to adjust our eyes to see, thinking that this must be our new village home. By the time we put our bags down it’s already time to start school.

At nursery we are greeted by ‘Good morning teacher’. We wonder if the children have managed to remember any other English since the last time we saw them. But first thing’s first; this time we’ve come equipped with 30 fluorescent toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste! As we hand them out the toothbrushes are received shyly with smiles and ‘than-goo’s. Miri dishes out the toothpaste and then we sing the ‘This is the way we brush our teeth’ song. When we ask if they already have toothbrushes at home the majority say they use their finger, so we learn how to brush your teeth with a toothbrush and toothpaste. This produces lots of giggles. We all brush our teeth inside and then spit in the ash pile in the school yard. Afterwards the children open their mouths wide to show off their newly cleaned teeth. Many of the kids’ teeth are already in a bad way but we hope they catch onto the habit in time to save their second set. As they leave, all holding their new possessions, their smiles and ‘bye’s are more lively than usual. They seem pleased with their gifts :)

After school we go to Ruby’s house (one of our 'favourites' from nursery!). It’s Ruby’s Mum, Brigitta, that will look after us while we stay at the church. When we arrive she’s not in. The neighbour behind calls us over to sit with her by the fence, passing over some plastic chairs, while we wait. After a while it is decided that we must be hungry and seeing as Brigitta will be cooking lunch for us the lady we are sitting with insists that we just eat ‘conjam’ (little) at her house and then a ‘conjam’ when our friend arrives. ‘Conjam’ turns out to be a full plate of rice accompanied by a green spinach-like vegetable. We finish our plate, almost ready to burst after our ‘little’ starter and waiting for our next meal in a somewhat stuffed and distressed manner. So that day we eat two ‘little’ lunches and then go teach the after school club in the afternoon – very tiring stuff! In that session the children all get Christmas lollipops sent all the way from Poundland, Llandudno by my Mum. So, in the morning we gave the nursery children toothbrushes and then we give out lollipops! The guilt of giving out this sugariness shrinks as the sweets are received by big smiles all round ;)

That afternoon we visit the lady we usually stay with, Selvi. She seems extra happy to see us as she seems to have fallen into good luck since we last met her - along with her new husband (who despite bringing along much strife in the shape of his mother who is demanding a 200,000 rupee dowry from her for the privilege of having him (an amount of money that is unthinkable for these people, whose budgets probably exceed no more than a couple of hundred rupees a week)) her brother is also visiting from Saudi Arabia where he and his mother live to work and send money back. Her brother has brought with him everything you need to live a life of luxury as put forward by the ideal of the western version of ‘civilisation’ and modernisation – a fan and a computer (probably the first computer this village has ever seen, especially since there is no electricity as of yet). Her mother has also sent some goodies, which our friend demonstrates as she proudly peels the potatoes with her new peeler. This is met with a stir of excitement from all there as we exclaim ‘ooo, a potato peeler’ – as if to say ‘look at you, aren’t you going up in he world!’. We eat mango the village way – unripe, still hard with its ripe flesh and sprinkled with salt or dipped in salt water – and then we feed on a meal of fish and rice and ‘bitterguard’ – a new vegetable discovery for me. It’s wrinkly round the edges and…bitter. As it goes dark we’re shuttled across the plain on the back of the bikes of two boys who seem to enjoy racing as they ride along with us balancing precariously on the back. They are probably wondering at how heavy we are after such a big meal. As after every other meal, we are stuffed. We go to finish the evening off at Ruby’s house with every intention of collapsing in ‘bed’ (tarp and straw mat on a sand floor) back at the church as soon as possible. As we sit in the light of the oil lamp, playing with the children, we hear shouts coming from the neighbour on the other side – Rita, whose house we ate at on the last visit and the mother of one of our nursery children. As we wonder what the commotion is about Brigitta comes over to break the news: Rita’s cooked dinner for us tonight, thinking it was her turn to cook. We’re going to have to go eat something to make her happy! We look at Brigitta in despair at the thought of even trying to fit anything else in! These people are so hospitable they’ve cooked for us twice! And to cook a meal for four extra guests is no small thing…we are going to have to fulfil our duty to eat and be filled – very filled! Brigitta begs us to just eat a ‘conjam’ to make her neighbour happy, so we concede and after an hour or so we are sat down on the mat at the neighbour’s house, pleading ‘conjam conjam’ as we watch her dish up…This ‘conjam’ is even bigger than the last! In the flickering light we can just about see our plates piled high with rice and curry as she brings them over. We gulp and try our best to be good. When I’ve eaten a normal meal size and there is still a plateful left, I come to a stop, feeling that carrying on stuffing my-self could have disastrous consequences! Thankfully in this culture it seems that they don’t get too offended at leftovers (although they usually tut over it, but sympathetically). People just seem happy to have been given an opportunity to exercise hospitality, which is a blessing for us, despite being continuously full to the brim!

So on the first night we almost roll home and go to sleep for the night in the church building, which has been designated as the bedroom – the house as the wardrobe and storage cupboard. Inside the church is quite the opposite of the house. It is the same red brick and tin roof structure with air holes and light coming in all over the place. If you want an airy place, this is the room to choose – There are three big windows – two of them looking out to a beautiful view of the plain stretching out ahead of us. Each window is a hole about 4 foot across, with a grid over it - the air flows through rather freely! Added to that is the bonus of missing bricks in the walls that seem to have been left their as air holes and the gap under the roof. The church building comprises of 1 room with two plastic chairs, a pile of breeze blocks and no floor. We are so tired that we’ll sleep anywhere and after sharing our floor with mr.rat and a monster spider on the last few visits to the village, I drift off quickly, resigned to the fact that creepy crawlies will crawl in the night, and go to sleep. The sand is most comfortable :)

In the morning, when I open my eyes there is a row of bemused faces at the window looking back at me. The adults stand at the window and the children stand at the open door. It seems that the whole of our little bit of village has come out to say good morning and are wondering why we’re not already up and about like they are at this hour of the day – it’s already 6.45! I get up in my pyjamas much to their amusement (I’m wearing a top with teddy bears and easter bunnies on it and purple check pj bottoms – I just didn’t think it through!!) I smile back in a sleepy state, happy to be of some amusement – yet again - and explain to some of the girls the next morning: ‘these are English pyjamas’, as if to excuse myself from looking completely out of place - here where the girls are all lady-like in their house dresses, shalvas and skirts at all times. (note from Miriam…I don’t wear house dress and shalvas..but my pyjamas are normal)

The second morning we are given a breakfast of red rice mixed with coconut milk and bananas and then are given a second breakfast by some of the nursery mums which we eat the teacher – string hoppers and paripoo (dahl/lentils). The eating follows the same pattern for the whole time we are there. If we aren’t given two meals we are at least fed until we are stuffed every day. If we are invited to say hello as we pass someone’s house there is always a certainty that you will get food or drink – either mango or papaya picked from the tree (one house we visited was under a big mango tree and most of its mangoes were ripe already – that was an enjoyable visit ;)), or a large amount of rice and curry. Miri and I don’t have much tamil between us but it seems possible to make conversation just by using the words ‘erevitti munde’ (23), ‘conjam’ (little), ‘nala russi’ (tasty), ‘kulapadi kurange’ (naughty monkey) and ‘micke nundry’ (thank you very much) with a few other words and phrases thrown in along the way. The tamil girl that comes with us does most of the talking and when we see them look over and talk about us we just smile :) There’s a lot to be said for body language and actions. They seem rather good at striking up friendships. Added to that, of course, is the obvious – we’re not from around here – so people are intrigued and enthusiastic to encounter this visitation from the outside for themselves. When we sit with the children they stroke my legs, they point at my spots and mosquito bites, they find all my blemishes, amused at the fact that you can see them because they show up on my skin. You learn not to mind and not to be surprised when people prod you and poke you and pat your belly!

We leave the village waving to our new friends and looking forward to the next visit, but also looking forward to a shower and a cold drink ;)