Horns

When we landed in India, despite all the preparation, I found some of my senses invaded in a way that is hard to understand and explain.

People said that as soon as you land you will notice the smell. We have not found that at all apart from wandering past the local shop grinding spices with flour and the aromas from occasional eateries along the roadside. Generally the smell has not challenged us.

The thing that has got to me most is the noise. I remember back to Gate 43 at Changi Airport, Singapore and the volume at which people spoke. Well, take that 200 voices and multiply them by 10 and you have the population of the schoolchildren outside our front door. Add to that the 70+ staff members and 20 ancillary staff plus the morning and afternoon sound of three very old 60 seater buses (that transport 110 children each) and two 40 seater buses (that transport at least 70 each), with horns blaring summonsing the children for their trip home.

Get the picture – it is not like the dead end street that I used to live in at home in Brisbane.

Despite all this noise, it is the school ground which we have found to be a paradise. You step through the school gate and you have a narrow road (4 metres wide bitumen sided by 3 metres of dirt (yes that famous Indian Mega-Dirt) on one side and 1 metre on the other side. This is better described as an 8 metre racetrack occupied by large trucks, buses, large cars, small cars, autos (the small 3 wheel taxis), motorbikes, push bikes, ox carts and pedestrians.

In peak hour (4:00 am to 10:00 pm) there are generally four lanes of traffic negotiating this road. They use the tidal flow system which is controlled by bus and car horns to determine which lane is travelling in which direction. So as you stand outside our front door all you can hear is 2,000 children’s laughter and shouting being outblasted by the horns of the traffic – an incredible experience which strangely enough you get used to.

Across this 8 metre wide super-highway is a little shop that sells veges (half of which we don’t recognise), fruit and all sorts of useful stuff. I stand at the edge of the dirt with the shop only 8 metres away, beckoning me to come and see its wares.

Normally a simple crossing, but in India the old Aussie look-both-ways (right then left then right again) just does not work because the cars closest can come from the left or the right depending on the path of least resistance and which vehicle has the loudest horn.

I have not mastered the one person crossing yet but Lynn and I have developed a technique of working together to be able to cross any thoroughfare with a reasonable amount of safety involved.

In the initial part of my ‘horn investigation’ there seems to be a hierarchy of horns that helps this process. Trucks and buses have loud, monstrously deep horns, cars have similar horns to home, motor bikes have high pitched squeals, autos have a variety but most have what appear to be cut off bugles with a rubber bulb attached that sound like the apparatus that clowns use, push bikes have maintained the time honoured standard of the bike bell, ox carts have an assortment of bells tied to the ox’s horns (so they ring all the time) and pedestrians have no tidal direction change device and so are defenceless except for their native cunning and agility.

So it does not take long to work out from the sound just what is about to run you over, and this done, you can make your life decision by the sound.

My sense of humour longs for the day when I discover the push bike that has been fitted with a truck horn so that it can change the tidal flow of traffic. Also, seeing that pedestrians are defenceless in this ordered mayhem we are tossing up the idea of a battery powered horn to assist us.

I don’t think either of these things will occur because as in all things Indian, there is an order that assists all and the community seems to stick to that.

PS

I have learned from this that it is better to tackle difficult situations with someone you trust.

DISCLAIMER

Lynn would again like to warn readers re the truth of the facts quoted in this story

DISCLAIMER REBUTTAL

Gary maintains that the above story is a factual recollection of his time so far in India.

Sign of the Week

We ventured out to a Restaurant the other night, a Chinese Restaurant. It was very nice and we were chatting about ‘Slumdog Millionaire’ and the scene where the boys were filling up water bottles with tap water and resealing them.

As we were laughing about whether we should buy bottled water or not, I glanced across the room and saw the following sign:

ALL DRINKING WATER IN THIS ESTABLISHMENT HAS BEEN PERSONALLY PASSED BY THE MANAGER

Lynn and I ordered a soft drink.

Broadband Internet Access

The trials of obtaining a broadband USB card for Internet access:

When we arrived in India, Paul Quigly, a fellow Australian had a card that he did not want anymore so we purchased it from him. It was based on time so it was not long before I had run out of time so I visited the shop to pay for more.

Enter the Indian Salesperson of the Year.

“This is not what you want”
“I have something better for you”
“You purchased the wrong thing for your needs”

This prompted me to ask him what my needs were. Not to be put off the slick sales pitch he continued:

“If you buy X minutes I will give you 120 extra minutes”
“If you buy 2X minutes I will give you 200 extra minutes”

I enquired innocently about the download limitations. This seemed to quieten him a bit and he started to reach for brochures and then crossing out all the figures on them and handwriting the deals he had just spoken to me about. The actual brochure was for unlimited downloads and time for a very reasonable price per month.

I asked could I have that deal for only five months as I would be leaving the country and did it mean that I could stay connected all day and night and download as much as I wanted. At this stage his English faltered and I could not get an answer I could trust. The extra complication was that I could not upgrade what I had to this new deal but had to get a new SIM card which requires verification of who you are and a permanent address in India.

We had this same problem when we purchased our phone a few weeks ago when one of the teachers had to come with us and purchase it in her name. We said thank you and said we would return with someone who could speak Tamil and had appropriate identity.

Next day we set off again with Becky (Our resident identity provider) to the store. All the facts were confirmed regarding cost, download limit, time limit and length of contract. Becky signs, we pay, great, now off home to get connected.

WRONG!!! We are informed that it will take 48 hours and they only record half the number on the SIM card then will personally visit our house to get the other half of the number, why I do not know. Wait patiently while daily visiting Internet Cafe, testing the USB daily. 48 hours comes and goes with nothing happening. The next day we go on our normal morning walk and when we return the doorbell rings. It is Becky, she has just been visited by the salesperson who wanted to obtain the second half of the number on the SIM card (that he gave us two days). He is going to ring back and if we can give him the second half of the number on the SIM card that he gave us (and already recorded on the contract) he will then activate the card.

We are still waiting for the return call. It is now 4 days since we departed with our money for the service.

Another day has passed and we have just been informed that the card is activated. Here we are back on line from our house and no daily trips to the Internet Cafe. Hallelujah!!!!!

If anyone has a plausible explanation for this I would love to hear it.

Time

If I had to make a statement about my relationship with time I would probably say that I am a slave to it. I guess this has a lot to do with my personality. I don’t like surprises or to be surprised so I always try to be on time (or a bit early).

The purpose of this is that generally others aren’t, so as they arrive I can meet people one by one rather than having to enter a meeting or room full of people.

I believe this is one way that Lynn and I complement each other. She can meet the crowd and enjoy it and I can then be introduced by her to others one by one.

I knew India was going to be a problem for me time-wise because I had been warned by my daughter who spent three months here a few years ago, plus doing our cross-cultural training, that generally the Indian sense of time does not correspond with anything I knew or liked.

This timing difference has been evident since our arrival. We get advised we will get picked up at a certain time but then it happens anytime. We have had occasions where it has been early (I was ready) and late (I was ready and frustrated).

I was told at 3:00 pm one day that the electrician would be here at 4:00 pm to fix a switch. Nothing much can go wrong here – only one hour. I took for me, a courageous decision not to hang around, when at 4:10 pm he had not arrived.

At 5:00 pm the next day the groundsman found me in the Hostel and informed me that the electrician was here. I chatted with him as we walked back to let the electrician in. He did not apologise for the lateness of 25 hours and I did not bother to ask.

The problem was fixed and everyone seemed happy. I wasn’t happy but I was decidedly less frustrated than I thought I would be.

We talked to a travel agent on Saturday about some options to see other parts of India during the May School holidays. No problem, he would get back to us shortly. He took my phone number and said he would call. Dropped in to his agency on Monday and he was not there and no-one had any details. We will visit again today (Tuesday) to see if he has done anything yet.

One of the challenges for me is to still try and be efficient in things I do (i.e. do not waste time) while allowing the world around me to function in its own understanding of time.

I have read a lot since arriving, probably more than in the last few years of my life (I am not an avid reader!!), so one of the gifts I have received here is that space and time to explore other things. Even though there is newness and challenge around me that is strange, I feel far more comfortable than at home.

Despite that vagueness of time here Church and school always start exactly on time.

PS

Is this the gift that Indian time is giving me? The knowledge and space to choose what I want rather than accept the impositions forced on me by the society that I come from.

Life at Jesse Moses

The parents in India would give anything for their children to have an education and the children take their education very seriously as do the educators. There is huge pressure on the Hostel girls to study.

The Hostel girls are chosen from applications of children from the poorest villages. They have to do an entrance exam and the ones who do the best get offered a place. All the girls are sponsored by the church. So they all want to be there and have done well, so are quite intelligent. They come in at the start of year 6 but only stay if their marks are at a set standard.

We have a partial routine with the girls during exam time. Every morning at 6:00 am and evening at 6:30 pm the girls gather for prayer. This is self directed by the girls and involves singing, Bible reading, message from the reading, more singing, then prayer for each other, their families, the school and staff and any other needs that arise.

It is a beautiful time that just happens with no fuss. The Coordinator of this is a young Year 9 girl called Pravilika. She organises the roster and makes sure that these times are truly what they are intended to be. There is remarkable respect given to girls who have been chosen to lead certain aspects of the Hostel life. During prayer, Pravilika has no trouble giving direction to older girls and even calling them to order.

Yesterday the Principal was telling us that some of the Year 10’s are not doing as well as they should and so might have to leave at year end (School here runs June – April).

During April new applicants are brought in for special coaching (especially English) then they are examined for selection for the new school year.

We are wondering if we can have a part in this. We have been helping the hostel girls with their English studies and Geography study of Australia. Though they speak English very well they still have problems understanding grammar and singular/plural nouns (of which Gary and I are experts!!!).

I am finding that 45 years away from direct and indirect nouns is testing me. It seems that they are speaking a different language (if you will excuse the pun) when they show me this stuff in their books. However they came back from their exams thanking us for our help and very excited that they had done well. However, their English teacher told us they usually do come back saying they did well and in actual fact, they haven’t. Fingers crossed!!

JOB OF THE WEEK - 2

We have visited a lot of schools and have been on the lookout for Australian Icons so naturally for schools we have been looking for the Indian equivalent of the “Lollipop Lady”.

For readers from other countries or states that do not know who the Lollipop Lady is she is the ever vigilant person who mans (womans/persons??) the pedestrian crossings outside schools before and after school. She is armed with a giant lollipop stick with 'STOP' written on it and boldly marches out in front of traffic to stop it and allow children safe passage across the road.

It was with great joy that as we were leaving a school last week, just as the kids were leaving, we spotted him. We have affectionately called him “Stick Man”.

In line with our comments on the ‘Mystery of the Lines’ we want you to let your imagination go wild and imagine the chaos at the front gate of a school in India and how inadequate the Lollipop Lady would be in this situation.

Enter Stick Man – an elderly Indian gentleman armed with a metre long piece of highly polished bamboo. As cars failed to stop or stopped in the wrong place, he gave the bonnet a sharp rap with his cane and the cars we saw soon moved on.

The scenes of chaos soon turned to order as Stick Man moved swiftly among the cars.

So goodbye Lollipop Lady and hello Stick Man.

DISCLAIMER
Lynn wishes to dispute some of the finer points that are written re Job of the Week but I can only report what I see.

Daily Frustration

As everyone knows, time in India passes slowly. We have read a lot and talked to the girls morning and evening but actually getting involved in the school life has not happened.

This is generally because it is exam time and so girls and staff are very focussed in ensuring that their time is maximised toward study, from our point of view, to the exclusion of everything else.

So we sit and wait. Today we will talk to the Hostel Warden re ways we could assist the girls with their study and hopefully that will open some more doors. The Warden generally will not do anything until the Principal has said it is OK but we believe that this OK has already been given.

The flip side to this is that it has only been a week, although it seems longer, and in that time we have made great progress getting to know the kids. We have individual photos of every girl plus group photos of each year level on our computer. Lynn has studied these hard and now knows most of the girls by name. Unfortunately I am struggling in this area but have a lot I know.

We pray that this afternoon will be another small step forward for us in our work here.

Lynn's sleep continues to be interrupted by mosquitoes. Despite screens, cream and a thing that plugs into the power to scare them away, they continue to attack her. I can lie blissfully on top of the bed without a shirt and not get bitten.

Dirt

I grew up with dirt. Under our house at 92 Waverley Road Taringa was dirt. When it rained the dirt turned to mud and the rushing water cut deep furrows in it. In these chasms toy soldiers could hide as they engaged in battles with the enemy and toy cars could disappear completely only to magically reappear in the next summer thunderstorm.

In my younger years football involved dirt and rocks. The entire left side of Oakman Park (kicking uphill) was dirt and rock and one of the consequences of this was that if you were silly enough to be caught by an opposition player on this side of the field you usually lost skin. Saturday nights generally involved getting knees and elbows stung by some strange concoction of liquids Dad had as he repaired my injuries.

As I got older I got to play on better fields that were grassed, footpaths got paved, and there were no dirt edges to roads. One of the side effects of this was that the soles of my feet went from being leather-like and impervious to any pain, to becoming soft. This forced me to wear shoes most places. I entered a phase of life without dirt. It was comfortable and when I encountered dirt I found it irritated me.

My life changed two weeks ago when I landed in India. Before India I thought I knew dirt but India has Mega-Dirt. It is everywhere and in everything especially your footwear. Standing where we now live and seeing 2,000 school children playing in a large dirt quadrangle dotted with trees causes my mind to meander back through life and recall lots of adventures.

Before I arrived in India a very small stone in my shoe used to irritate me greatly – well more that irritate me, it used to immobilise me. I had to stop and take off my shoe and empty it before I could continue.

Here in India if I did that I would get nowhere because every step I take somehow deposits small stones and dirt in my shoes. So to get anywhere I have had to find ways to endure the dirt so that my journey can continue.

It made me think how much Indian dirt reflected my life journey. I used to let small pebbles stop me in my track but now I have discovered that my life can continue with any number of pebbles and it will be OK – but the journey will be different.

PS

It gives me a new perspective on Jesus washing the disciples’ feet.

What is more refreshing than reaching your destination, removing your shoes, and letting Jesus take care of the pebbles.

Waiting Days

We are now in a waiting phase as we get to know the girls and especially the Principal and the Wardens of the Hostel. There is not a lot to do except be with people as much as they allow and let the relationships grow.

It is easy to get frustrated as the Wardens’ (two ladies in charge of the Hostel) English does not appear to be as good as the girls and despite it being an English teaching school they continue to speak to the girls in Tamil.

We are not sure how much they understand or whether their shyness of the language causes them to withdraw. They seem to be very happy that we are participating in morning and evening prayer and interacting with the girls during this time.

It is also State exam time. This is common exams for all year 10 and 12 students. The whole school goes into lockdown with a policeman on the gate to stop people entering and big warning signs everywhere. During the exam time (generally 8:30 – 1:30) the girls in the hostel not involved, can’t leave the hostel.

Everything has to be quiet so it is hard to go to the hostel as when we are with the girls there seems to be a lot of noise and when you throw in the volume of Lynn’s laugh it is not worth getting arrested. One member of the family spending time in a foreign jail is enough.

We have been shopping picking up a few things to make us more comfortable. We have made some good friendships with some of the shop owners who are providing good information about where we can get things. There was a major breakthrough this afternoon when Lynn discovered where we can go to get a ‘good Western coffee’. It is a good walk away from where we are so we will catch an auto tomorrow to try it out and if it is suitable it might become part of a daily walking program for us.

We are hoping to arrange to have a few evening meals a week in the Hostel with the girls. There seems to be a little reluctance to us doing this as they think the food is not a high enough standard or could be too hot for us. The girls are looking forward to us eating with them.

Every evening we take one year level and take a group photo then individual ones so we can attempt to learn their names. The score so far is Lynn 52 Gary 5.

Thanks for all who are emailing us (aussiegnu@gmail.com). We will be more diligent with email in about a week when my set of rescue disks from the fantastic BCE Operations Team arrive and we can communicate from home. The email café we have found is good but a fair way away from where we live.

Please let others know about the email and blog address.

Jessie Moses at last

We were to be picked up at 10:00 on Saturday to be transported to CSI Jessie Moses School. We were up early, packed our bags and settled into some reading while we waited. Much to our surprise and delight the doorbell rang at 9:30 with our driver eagerly announcing that he was ready to go.

We have learnt that when you get a good surprise you need to be prepared for what comes next. We had been transported around all week in quite large cars with plenty of room and to my surprise as I looked over the driver’s shoulder I saw the smallest car I had seen all week.

I explained to him that we had some large bags to take but with a nonchalant swagger of the head in true Indian fashion he proclaimed “it is OK Sir we will fit”

Who was I to doubt such confidence. After all had I not seen a family of 5 with two large bags zoom past us on a motor cycle a couple of days previously.

We managed to fit our smallest clothes bag in the boot – good start. The biggest one would not fit on the back seat and let someone sit in there also but if it was put longways leaning over the drivers seat it would – good. Not sure at this stage where the driver was going to put his head.

Two carry bags on top of that and Lynn wedged in next to that – good. I am in the front seat nursing another bag – good. Only the driver to go. I did not believe the neck could actually turn at the angle his was but he was in and the door was closed – good.

He managed to get us there safely by 10:00 and we met the Principal who was very friendly and told us that she had been expecting us since last year. She didn’t know if we were friends or husband and wife. (Obviously communication is no a strong point here??!) When we asked her what we were going to do, she said she was hoping we would tell her. We offered some suggestions which she seemed happy with. She seemed happy for us to work with the younger girls in the hostel in the mornings while the Year 10 – 12 girls were doing exams.

She said something about teaching lessons which seems a bit scary considering we don’t even know what they learn. I guess we’ll learn on the run. The school has in excess of 2,000 students of which 80 live in the Hostel. They are girls from the poorest areas who are offered places by Grisham (aka CSI).

The accommodation they have provided for us used to be the Principal’s residence but the new principal lives off site with her family. We are embarrassed because it is a palace compared to other schools we have seen. On top of that they have purchased a new ¾ fridge and a washing machine for us (which we can’t connect yet). There is a microwave but no cook top but we hope that is coming.

A couple of the office girls were still doing the final clean for us as we walked in. They had stocked the fridge with butter, sugar, coffee, corn flakes, bread, oranges, apples and bananas, however no bowls to eat the cornflakes and no knives to butter the bread because they don’t eat cornflakes or bread. We are having trouble buying the knives and bowls. We might have to visit the “Mall” in town.

There are two bedrooms with new mattresses (the standard Indian rock hard variety) with ensuites in both rooms where you can shower while sitting on the toilet. Everything including the toilet paper gets wet during the shower but we aren’t complaining. It’s wonderful to have a shower and toilet!!!

After unpacking we walked down the street to purchase a few things we wanted and have fun with a few of the local storekeepers.

We spent the afternoon chatting with groups of the older Hostel girls. Their English is amazing and we had a lot of fun with them. These same girls came up to the house to have a look at my (Lynn) new Salwars and suggested which one I should wear to church. We showed them photos of family and talked until about 6.15 pm.

They invited us to their Chapel service at 6:30 pm. They sang unaccompanied, some songs we knew, some in Tamil, and Lynn sang a few songs to them (I refrained from singing at this early stage in case I scared any of the younger ones). We had a bible reading then this Year 10 girl jumps to her feet with no notes and proceeds to deliver a 10 minute sermon on the reading. It was great. There was a closing prayer and the mosquitoes descended and had a fairly good meal of Lynn. It was the first time we had been caught out at dusk without renewing our mosquito repellent.

Orientation Day 5 - 6 March

A short drive today – only 50 km but 2 hours each way. It is good to know that in India you never ask how far away some place is but how long it will take to get there.

We drove south to Melrosapurum to see the schools there as well as the Ewart Women’s College then on to Chengalput which was where Anna was stationed when she was in India for three months.

Although every day is different there is a sameness about what we are witnessing. Dedicated, faith filled people providing an education for those who would normally not receive one, in buildings that are falling down around them.

Three of the principals we have met this week received their education in a mission school and two of them are now back in the same school they grew up in.

In every school visited there are pictures of their Founders proudly displayed and the school staff are eager to tell you about their school’s heritage.

Ewart Women’s College is a College offering Bachelor degrees in Medicine, Science and IT to girls who are first generation learners. It was great to hear them talk about their desire to be educated so they could provide money for their family who have nothing.

They were having a nutrition display and Lynn got to cut the ribbon and officially open it. We were the first two to progress through and have the girls explain the exhibits they had prepared.

Lynn's first Official Opening

After hearing about Chengalput from Anna, it surprised us. By Indian standards it was a village but the traffic was thick and heavy and it was significantly larger than we had imagined. The headmistress of one school we visited told us there were nine schools in the village.

Mangy dog at Chengalput (especially for Anna)



We visited a school for mentally handicapped children. There are 25 children living here ranging from 6 to 30. Mahimi, the lady in charge, has been there 15 years and has never had a holiday. This really challenged us when we guard our holidays so much in the west. A little girl called Commina, who is an orphan, came to sit on my (Lynn) lap while we were talking in Mahimi’s office, and just wanted to be hugged. She stuck to me after that. We were treated to a singing concert and then some dancing. I joined in with the dancing with Commina on one hand and another little boy who seemed to gravitate to me also.



When someone else tried to cut in they were not impressed. They are trying to raise money for a new hostel. The house they are living in is over 100 years old and is badly in need of renovation.

The CSI Home of Abundant Life,



where Anna was stationed, was typical of the buildings we saw – old, dirty and badly in need of renovation. They showed us the room they thought was Anna’s, which wasn’t too bad. However Anna informed us that she didn’t sleep in that room but another one behind the dining room which we saw and is now a kitchen of some sort. I am glad we are where we are and not where Anna was. Her’s would have been a difficult situation to live in.

We also visited another girls’ hostel which was dark and gloomy and again, old and dilapidated. Although the condition of the buildings were bad and saddened us, it seemed that everywhere we went, it had little affect on the occupants – children just being happy to get an education and have somewhere to get 3 meals a day.

It is indeed a different world and we have been continually challenged about our Western values and waste and what we treasure.

It was another long day and another long drive through the traffic to get “home”.

JOB OF THE WEEK - 1

In India there are jobs for all sorts of things. Every store has a man in uniform to open the door for you and at places where you can park there is someone there to open the gate for you but for our job of the week we believe this is one everyone should aspire to.

As we have informed you before, red lights don’t mean much to people who travel on the road so at some major intersections there is a man armed with something that resembles a large flashing red light sabre from Star Wars.

His job is to leap out into the intersection waving his flashing light sabre wildly, when the lights turn red. The purpose of this is supposedly to stop cars coming through the red lights. We have only seen him in action twice and from what we have seen the job is full of action but probably has a very short life expectancy.

Stay tuned for next week’s Job of the Week.

Orientation Day 4 - 5 March

A day spent at Sholingher, some 120km from Chennai but that 120km transforms into a three hour drive in constant traffic and honking of horns and stopping and starting. The scenery was challenging all the way, changing from the dust and crumbling roadside stalls to the despondency of the slums and high-rise side by side.

In Chennai there is no rich area and poor area but poverty and riches coexist together no more that 10 metres apart. We can’t understand how or why but that is the reality of the situation. As we progress further there are glimpses of fields with people scavenging then your senses are invaded again by another village that crowds in on the road, slows the traffic so your little escape capsule is entrapped in the surrounds of the village. We are sad but looking out we see smiling faces going about their business.

Why does their happiness cause us to be sad?

When we arrive we are greeted by the Presbyter (Minister) of the CSI ( I still want to call him Grisham but Lynn won’t let me). His name is John and he is overjoyed to see us because this whole area was first evangelised by the Presbyterian Church of Australia.

Lynn on a very hot day



Gary receiving the traditional welcome of scarf and garland. We received three such scarves today alone.


They are proud of their heritage and eagerly recite the history of the Church in their area and the names of the Australians who started the Church there, built the first Hospitals and opened the first schools. We spend four+ hours visiting the pre-school, primary school, secondary school and matriculation school as well as the boys and girls hostels which house the children from outer areas.

They are in various states of disrepair with the best we saw being unacceptable anywhere in Australia. During the tour of a school in excess of 1200 students, we only saw four classrooms that had desks. We are sad but they are proud because they are providing the children with an education and they know that education of the children is the most important thing for them.

It becomes very hard as they plead with us to help them. We are from Australia and so are part of their heritage. We talk and pray and offer encouragement but it seems so trivial and pitiful when we see their situation.

Our goal and prayer at this stage is to not let ourselves be overwhelmed by the situation but to allow ourselves to be part of their life and experience and through that allow God to mould and shape us so that we can be of use.

The three hour drive home is extra long and quiet.

Pre-school

Orientation Day 3 - 4 March

We didn’t know what time we were going to set out today so were ready by 7.30. Our driver arrived at 9.10. We drove through horrendous traffic again to pick up the Secretary of the Synod who was to take us to Rainey Hospital for an 11.00 am appointment with the Medical Superintendent. He asked if we would mind if he dropped into a bookstore to pick up a book. While the Secretary pondered, we picked up 5 Philip Yancey books for about $10. While I (Lynn) was waiting I was watching a worship video that was playing - thousands and thousands of Indian people worshipping God, singing and raising their hands in praise. I just started to cry because I was so overcome. It was incredibly moving and I realised how much we can learn from our Indian friends.

The long and the short of this "little" stop was that the Secretary finally decided on his purchase and we arrived for our 11.00 am meeting at 1.00 pm and the Medical Superintendent was in another meeting. The second in charge showed us through this hospital which was the first missionary hospital in Chennai and it certainly looked like something out of the 1800s. Most of the original building has been condemned and the rest isn’t much better. Words cannot describe the state of the place. It was all Lynn could do to stop crying. In fact all the way around looking at the adult ICU where they were so proud to show their one respirator, the natal ICU where there was an ice-cream bucket with a semi circle cut out to fit over the baby’s neck and an oxygen pipe through a hole in the top, for a little girl to receive oxygen and the maternity ward where there were old unpainted iron cribs - tears were very close.

Hospital Laundry



Back of Hospital



They also have a nursing school and residential accommodation on the premises. These are also old and dilapidated but still no complaint! Obviously we keep thinking about the Wesley Hospital and what would these people think if they saw how beautiful it is.

Our next stop was the CSI Puthuir Special School – a vocational training centre for mentally handicapped children. We had a wonderful lunch here and really enjoyed interaction with the children. The older girls are shown things to help them make a living – like making jewellery (we bought a necklace and earrings), weaving, basket making and card making. The older boys make candles, and those boxes of chalk we used when we were in primary school. This was fascinating. The children were fun and loved to shake hands and touch our white skin. They are taught colours, numbers, their phone numbers and addresses, money denominations and motor skills like threading needles, cutting paper etc. – living skills to help them in later life. They are also taught singing and dancing and we were treated to a dance concert. We loved this place and hope to return here while we are in Chennai.

Children Dancing for us



This school is run by Carmen, a very charismatic Christian lady who is passionate about bettering the school. She would love to get a bus to pick up the children and also has a vision for residential care for boys and girls.

Some more things we’ve learnt about India:

1. Indian time is definitely not our time.
2. Drive on the wrong side of the road if there are too many people on your side.
3. Honking the horn is a sign of encouragement - move or I will run over you!
4. Go the wrong way around the roundabout – it will get you in front of fifteen rows of bikes
5. Some auto drivers don’t like to bargain with foreigners

Sign of the Day: “Lamb and Chicken Farm – come and meet your meat”- on the front of a tiny shop with a hanging display of lamb and chicken carcasses in the doorway.

Orientation Day 2 - 3 March

Today was a long day with a lot of car travel through the most horrendous traffic we have ever been in. Our driver, and all people who drive/ride/push/peddle things on the streets here are to be commended for the way they treat each other. It certainly does not happen in Australia.

Again the mystery of the lines was evident with our best example being on a three lane road at the lights where we had ten vehicles lined up waiting for the change. Bizzare, absolutely unbelievable and just plain stupid are a few words that come to mind. Despite all this we have not seen one accident, bump, nick or heard an angry word.

We travelled for 90 minutes to visit Ikkadu (only 50 kms away). There we saw the Hospital, Church, Day Care and school and were just as impressed with the people as we were on day 1. Their faith shone through their everyday actions, working in conditions that would not be acceptable in Australia. In fact the buildings in the hospital and the pre-school would have probably been condemned in Australia.

Here is the Operating theatre at Ikkadu Hospital

Pre-school children having their afternoon sleep.



The children at the school had no desks. They sit on the cement for their classes. They are beautiful, happy children and we had a lot of fun talking with them. They thought it was particularly hilarious when Lynn stood next to one of the teachers, comparing her fair skin to his dark skin.

We asked the principal what his greatest need was and he said that he would like to have a clean toilet facility for the children.

The church has no chairs – grass mats again - which are put out before every service – about 500.



Really made us think about the complaints we make about uncomfortable pews in our churches???

Everyone on this day was quite content for us to take photos and with humility allowed us to be part of their journey.

We were hoping for a few days to get ‘acclimatised’ and ease into the challenges of being here but we are finding we are getting challenged by just the basic existence of the people. Their contentment with what they have is very confronting.

Sign of the Day: “Watch out for tree” – means don’t hit the tree that is growing on the road.

Orientation Day 1

The day was supposed to commence at 9:30 am but we were still waiting for the driver who finally arrived at 10:15 (early by Indian standards) and we got back home at around 4:00 pm.

Our day involved visits to the following places:

• Kalyani Hospital
• School for the Deaf
• Anbagam Old Peoples Home
• Santhome Cathedral
• St Thomas Mount

It was a great day that focussed on the work that the Church of South India is involved in. We were treated with great respect and allowed to witness a lot of things at the hospital that we are sure would not be allowed in Australia - ie being present while a patient had a needle inserted in his eye to clear tear ducts, having access to their Intensive Care Unit, visiting the nursery ICU and seeing all the babies including one that had just been born, visiting the labour ward (fortunately empty at the time although that would probably have made no difference) and interrupted any amount of doctor/patient consultations where everyone stood up and was introduced. We played with the CT scan computer and I think they would probably have let us do a scan when they heard Gary was an IT specialist. Needless to say things are a tad laid-back here. Actually the equipment in this hospital was fairly modern – a lot donated by Germany hospitals and missionary societies. They are so proud of everything and to them it must seem wonderful but to us it was plain sad.


At the School for the Deaf



it was particularly heartbreaking talking to the principal as he shared his dreams for the place and then seeing the conditions that they work in and in particular visiting the hostel on the site where the boys and girls live. We would love our boys from BBC to see their accommodation – The children do the cleaning, their own washing and sleep on grass mats on cement floors. It makes the extremely hard mattress on our beds here look like feather doonas.

Here is a picture of the bath in the boy's quarters



We sat in class with some of the children. These are wonderful, committed teachers and the children are very responsive. They are taught to lip read English and Tamil and use sign language. The principal was particularly keen to see if he could arrange some teacher exchange to help his teachers.

We had lunch at the Old Peoples Home and talked to the staff and afterwards had a walk around when most of the occupants were having their afternoon sleeps. This was heart-breaking - four people to a very, very basic room with old iron beds from back in the ‘50s – no paint. These oldies look after themselves and are mostly unwanted by their families.

The Santholme Cathedral and St Thomas Mount hill are of particular religious significance to the people of India and it was good to hear the story of Thomas’ martyrdom and see various relics.

Our overall impression was the way the spirituality of the staff was lived out in their daily roles. We could not believe some of the conditions they worked in but their life of faith was evident in all they said and did.

This was especially evident at Kalyani Hospital which was celebrating its 100th anniversary. Our guide, Mary, who is one of the Training Supervisors and a tutor in their nursing school explained how they had devotions for all staff at the start of every day and on Sunday nights they have a Healing Service where patients and staff come for prayer and she told us of some miraculous healing that God has done - the Medical Superintendent and his wife actually pray for and anoint the people with oil. She even asked if we would pray for the hospital there and then. On the ward rounds we visited a 38 year old who was in a car accident and now a vegetable. She asked if we would pray for him as well and so we did.

It was a great day where our ideals and our faith were challenged at every turn.

Worship

We attended Church at CSI St George’s Cathedral on Sunday. It is an English language church but I still struggle to pick up the words. There are about 1,000 people at church and I would best describe the service as High Anglican. A large part of the service was sung by the minister.

There is a guest preacher from America. She is a minister form the American Church of Christ here on Sabbatical and is staying in Cathedral House with us. It was a very traditional service but I felt quite at home in spite of not being able to find the correct place in the order. A lady next to me took great delight in showing me what page I should be on.

Communion was celebrated with three serving points and in a most efficient manner.

THOUGHT!

Perhaps they could put the Communion Stewards in charge of traffic control at the Airport.

Computer Problems

I had great success with the Broadband Wireless Access card that was purchased for me – FOR ABOUT 2 HOURS.

Since then whenever I try to connect I get a memory error and can’t get access and the modem drivers become corrupted.

I have unloaded and reloaded software countless times but it is no good so will have to return to where the card was purchased for me to see if they can help.

……..

I have just met my first group of unhelpful Indians (I was not with Custer at the Little Big Horn). They were salespeople of the supreme order, polite, inquisitive etc but at the end of the conversation it was my problem and there would be no help, refund or slight sign of compassion.

………

Brisbane Catholic Education has a pretty good Help Desk so a couple of text messages and a phone call later I had some instructions that might help. Alas this was not to be so at the moment I am relying on an Internet café and hopefully a disk from Australia that will solve my computer problems.

The Mystery of the Lines

We were waiting at the carousel for our luggage and we could see through the door. Crowds of people waiting much like any other airport. Finally collected our bags and stepped through the door and the first big surprise – it was not the door to the welcome lounge but the door to outside the terminal.

The crowds were there alright, all over the footpath, road, just everywhere. Cornelius grabbed us, presented Lynn with flowers, me with a purple thingy that was hung around my neck (I am still trying to find out the official name for this). We lined up and the CSI driver (Church of South India not Grisham) took our picture.

What happened next is hard to describe. I have been at the football at the MCG and exited with 70,000 people and it was a reasonable experience but at the Chennai Airport with a lot less people is a completely different thing thus the Mystery of the Lines.

The footpath, road and car park were covered with lines, arrows and words. They were in English, Tamil and Hindi although I do confess that a Tamil arrow looks very much like an English arrow. But the mystery was that all these things apparently meant nothing to anyone except me.

We put our luggage in the car and reversed out into the one way lane, well it looked like one way to me with the large arrows painted on the ground and on the signs. We were pointing the wrong way, or so I thought. It seemed a normal two lane path with all cars, bikes, autos (small three wheeled transport vehicles), motorbikes with five people on them, supposed to go in the one direction with those on the left turning left and those on the right turning right.

The people of Chennai had transformed this very ordinary two lane one way corridor into a five lane two way major highway. The way you do this is to ignore all signs and road markings, continue to have strong self belief that you are in the right, blow the horn continually and in the midst of this remain calm and cooperate with the other drivers.

It is one of the most amazing pieces of cooperation that I have seen. Vehicles snaked left and right, wove perilously close to each other and the hundred or so pedestrians who were also using this thoroughfare to walk to their car, plus those who had decided to park their cars on the road because there was nowhere else to park.

We got out unscathed and unworried, or most of the occupants did.

My workplace at Brisbane Catholic Education has a car park with not enough room for everyone. When I return I will be proposing that we implement what I am now calling ‘The Chennai System’. If we do I believe we could fit at least 350 cars in our 75 car parking spaces and be able to get in and out with no trouble at all.

Upon exiting the car park we breathed a collective sigh of relief, and squeezed hands a bit tighter and thought that all was OK and we were on our way to Cathedral House, the guest house of the Diocese at St George’s Cathedral. WRONG!!!!!

Apparently the car park was only a small practice run for the roads. The footpaths of Chennai are so badly broken up that they are almost impossible to walk on so as well as all the types of transport listed above travelling considerably faster than the car park, we add whole families walking as well.

It appears to me that there are some rules:

If you can go faster then you can hold your hand on the horn until people in front of you get out of the way

The speed you travel has no bearing on which lane you travel in

Ignore last rule. There are some lanes marked but they are immaterial

You can drive where you want and pass on any side you can get through

If you are travelling at the same speed but are in a larger vehicle then you can hold your hand on the horn until people in front of you get out of the way

Red lights only apply if someone is coming at right angles to you

When you do have to stop you cooperate with others and try to form the maximum number of lanes possible. (At one particular stop on a road marked with three lanes we counted three cars, two autos and six motor bikes lined up)

It is a pedestrian’s responsibility to get out of the road

The large wide white lines that at home I used to call pedestrian crossings have no meaning or purpose at all

We did arrive at Cathedral House safely and slept soundly on our first night even though our beds are hard as rocks.