Queen Rita

My first few days at RUHSA has been and gone already, time is passing so quickly. I am so spoilt that I am imagining another 7 3/4 months here but in reality of course I have only one week. I have yet to catch up with the elusive KRJ who fobs me off at every turn. Eventually, I invoked the power of the VRCT Trustees and he conceded to make me an appointment to talk. Lying between us like some mangy dog is the threat to his ego - I am no threat to his job or anything else, in fact, despite everything that has happened and much to the disgust of my mum who is much more clear-headed about this type of behaviour than me, I am still one of his strongest advocates, both within RUHSA and with the Trustees. Perhaps I shall let him know that my loyalties are being stretched to the limits.

So, I hear you cry, what happened with the garden, did they do it? Well, I went to the village on Wednesday and sat, not looking outside, but awaiting Kalaimanai to come and help translate my cries of delight or my cries of disappointment, depending on the outcome. I'm sure they wondered what on earth I was doing, not making any effort to go and see what might have been going on in the back yard. I became increasingly nervous as no-one seemed to be wanting me to go outside. I steeled myself for disappointment. After about an hour when it was clear he was not coming, I finally went into the yard. Rathinam followed me, looking excited.

The previously barren untended land was transformed by green mohicans of beautiful, pristine bicuspid shoots, ecstatically liberated from thier dessicated seeds, the red earth mahogany with irrigation. Dotted in spaces around the rest of the yard, tomato plants grew proudly supported by bamboos, already heavy with growing fruit. Freshly toiled furrows awaited brinjal seeds. No-one needed my cries of joy translated.

When I returned from Keelalathur, in my usual state of excitement, I caught up with Dr Rita. She and I always manage to have very forward looking conversations and today was no exception. In the block I am staying are two Australian elective students aged 22 who are leaving RUHSA today having been here for three weeks. They have had a terrible time; bored senseless by the lack of activities and restrictions. Being so young, they are not very able to find ways of entertaining themselves, so much so that they have been going to sleep at 7.30 at night. I hate people leaving RUHSA hating it, it is especially frustrating considering the latent knowledge base and fascinating opportunities RUHSA could offerNot only do they fail to capitalise on these chracteristics, but they are completely negated by the soulless empty atmosphere.

Rita and I have discussed this several times, and both agree that visiting forgeigners and interns should not be subject to the ridiculous strictures placed on the Convent nursing students. There needs to be a space wehere people can meet and gather, cook dinner occasionally to break the monotony of rice and sambar, even watch television. The ultimate aim is to build an international hostel but that will take time - just think how long the one room kitchen at Keelelathur took. Then Rita had a brainwave, and a Rita brainwave is more than pie in the sky, she will organise it I know. She will convert one of the rooms in the hostel building to a common room and kitchen. She has already been responsible for putting up curtains and bedspreads. I added an extra plea - to change the mattresses which cause me so much grief, resembling, as they do, lonely unbuttered Ryvita, only marginally less springy. What a genius idea, not only that but I will suggest a bookcase and then I bring over all my unwanted novels next time and games etc. It will make a huge difference to foreign students, I hear there is a girl coming out for a year. She will slash her wrists if there is not an improvement.

Whilst chatting to Ria, I noticed a peice of paper on her desk with her personal details on and noticed that her birth date indicated that she was due a significant event in three days time. Rather cheekily I told her I had noticed and wished her a happy birthday. She shook her head and said no, no that it not my birthday. So was the date on the form wrong? No, no, that is my official birthday, my real birthday is in July. I was confused. Eventually after much complicated explanation, she told me that owing to a glitch in her schooling when she was fourteen, the only way she was alowed to continue to atetend the school she was at was if they changed her official birthday and brought it forwards 4 months. Consequently, all her official documents, passport, driving licence, medical licence, work application documents all give the March date. Every year, the institution she works at sends her a birthday card 4 months early. She was delighted when I told her that the only other person I knew of with an official and personal birthday was the queen.

India Rubber Bel

I'm back again in the land of silly head gear and beaming smiles. It has been nearly a week filled with the not only familiar, but expected intensity of events and emotion. I came out, mainly because I could, having a break before my new job starts, but also because I arrogantly assumed that the prospect of disappointing me would spur the old folk at Keelalathur not to let me down but to create a garden.

The first weekend here was spent with Arun in a hill station in Andra Pradesh, peculiarly called Horsley Hills. I had never heard of it, but of course that is the benefit of being friends with a tour operator, they know the best destinations. We stayed on a beautiful hilltop on a finger of Andra pointing between Tamil Nadu and Karnataka overlooking the adjacent state's plains. The drive there was wonderful; the red dust proving a perfect foil for the lining of neem trees along the road; powerful wafts of jasmine causing heart-stopping distraction from the companionable conversation. Every now and then Arun would sigh deeply and longingly as we passed either a Toyota Innova or a 17 wheeler truck (don't ask me, it's mystifying. Must be something to do with the Y chromosome). I guess he was equally mystified by my visceral delight in the bluely blooming Jacaranda trees and their heavy furry seeds.

I arrived at RUHSA on Monday. It has been wonderful so far. I have an enchanting new Canadian neighbour, this time called Laura. Obviously being staggeringly nosey I interrogated her immediately as to what she was doing, why she was here etc etc. She explained that she was an independent volunteer who came out on the off chance and is working on a project for eldely welfare which started as a pilot project in Keelalathur. How exciting is that? Here is someone who is working on the project and it is nothing to do with me. I felt so proud I thought I would burst. In fact I think I scared her a bit with the intensity of my enthusiasm for her work. Eventually, after I had stopped babbling and was able to explain more calmly why I was so excited, she stopped looking so terrified.

After I dropped my luggage off I went to see Immanuel as usual, who was charming as usual, giving nothing away as usual. Jebaraj came bounding out to tell me that he had been waiting for me all morning. Another elderly welfare centre had been started and he wanted me to come to see it. As if that weren't enough, Kalaimanai asked when I would be going to Keelalathur because they had a surprise for me. I was in seventh heaven, the project is getting bigger and bigger and it seems to have it's own set of legs which are running furiously in a great direction. Totally and utterly thrilling.