Sunday 18th July

Feeling Saree for myself.
I actually have very little about which I can feel sorry but as I was colourfully decorated in the Saree I bought in Delhi it seemed a shame to waste the pun!!
Perhaps some things go better left unsaid.
The only thing I miss, I mean really, really miss, is singing. In England I sing every Sunday at the meeting, some Saturdays at fraternals, every opportunity at Christadelphian gatherings, in the car to the radio (the English radio!), in the shower, around the house when I'm alone... As mentioned before, I have little alone time and all the hymns are in Telugu; the radios, televisions and music players play Telugu or Hindi songs and the people around me sometimes enjoy a bit of spontaneous Telugu singing whilst cooking or cleaning.
I miss being able to join in.
I endeavour to learn at least one Telugu song and then hope they do that one at least once!

Slumdog Millionaire.
So far in my stay I've had only two flashbacks to the film. Firstly I used the Taj scene to explain my hesitance to leave behind my flip-flops when we were going into the lighthouse - met with the reply ''Vizag people are not like that''.
The second time was during the 3 1/2hr journey from Vizag to Kadiam. By train.
Let me paint you a picture.
The back rests of the sweaty plastic bench seats lent forward. The seat 'cushions' dogged downwards towards the back. Despite having reserved seats an argument ensued and negotiations took place concerning who was in our seats and how long it would take them to vacate them. Once crammed into these plastic hunch-makers we were bombarded by sellers; both official train employees and people trying to make an unofficial living, beggars of all descriptions; women, children, the lame, blind and otherwise impaired as well as general disgruntled passengers making their way to and from the toilet, a venture I myself was not willing to undertake.
These movements were accompanied by the smells of tea, coffee, potato cutlets and sweat, as well as the sounds of ''teahottea'', ''caffeenescaffee'', ''biscuitchips, biscuitchips'', the clinking and clacking of the various rattles being sold and the rattle of the money being collected.
I tried to observe the beautiful countryside but being in an aisle seat and the windows being small and barred made this difficult.
First class seating. India style.
(Not the highest option, which was called something like 'luxury class'...)
I loved the explosion of culture and general experience but it wasn't what I would describe as easy. I would not describe anything as ''easy'' in a Saree!
Gideon scolded me for digging out a few rupees for a small grubby looking girl. I don't want to feed the cruel industry depicted in Slumdog Millionaire but I did want to feed that girl. Although there's a good chance she doesn't get much of a look in on the money it may have helped in someway and can't have done a huge amount of harm. Hopefully.
By the end of the journey my Saree had all but unraveled after trying to entertain Joel and have him clamber all over me. Suma kept telling me what a mess I was and insisted I change almost immediately after reaching Kadium.

Kadiam.
Is much less developed or firmly established than Vizag with many more huts made out of woven branches and palm-leaf roofs.
Construction is going on everywhere, including brother Joshua's house where I was meant to be sleeping.
Upon arrival Duncan gave me a tour of the visitor's flat in which he was staying. I stepped into the cool 16oC Air conditioned room with the fan going full whack. I almost cried.Duncan quickly organised that me and Gracie (Kruppa) have this (his) room and we leave the door open to the first room in which he will sleep and we can all switch around when Edwin-Arthur gets there with his Niece-in-law, Poonan, and her daughter, Sezal, by which time Joshua's house should be finished and the fans hooked to the electricity.
I slept wonderfully.
Even more bizarre dream than the last one though. I think weirdness of dream is directly proportional to quality of sleep!!

We are family.
I love the people I've met here. I feel pretty much at home in the house (the dad is Elia, mum Preema and then their kids are Hepsi, Phillip, Joshua and Gracie ranging from about 35 down to 25) but there is a lot of Telugu and opportunities to laugh at Lydia's total lack of any grasp of the language!
The other brothers and sisters of the ecclesia also seem super nice, I've been introduced to a number of houses and been called 'cute' a number of times!

Child.
The Sunday talk was about being a child in the eyes of God.
I definitely feel like a child in this strange world where everyone knows each other and no-one knows me! Although I feel completely lost I also feel completely at home; I reckon religion is one of the only interests one can have that allows you to travel around the world and be welcomed with open arms, having so much in common!
Perhaps religion and tiddlywink conventions.

Evening: Walk like an Egyptian.
Well an Indi-gyptian... and Inditian?
An Indian.
Ok, so my clever play on the Bangles hit was perhaps not as successful as I had hoped but the sentiment is still strong!
I convinced our host to let me sit on the floor and eat with them (rather sat up to a table on my own) and they taught me how to eat without using utensils! Like an Indian I sat crossed legged and like an Indian I scooped and ate but like a inexperienced English girl I scratched my lip with my curry hand and spent the rest of the meal trying to dab it off with water without drawing attention to my mistake!
It burned =[

Duncan's wearing a skirt.
I wasn't the only one getting into the Indian swing of things.
Brother Duncan wore a 'lungi', or as he calls it a 'long-ey', which, although not a skirt, is a tube of fabric worn from around the waist to cover the legs.
However unlike a pencil skirt the bottom can be pulled up and tied around the waist, thus halving the length and exposing the socks and sandals beneath. He's fitting in with the more traditional members of the area, joking and laughing with them despite the lack of shared language!

Freeee Nelson Mandela(-ella-ella).
Suni, who is Hepsi's daughter, has stared to read my book before I went to bed so I left it with her...
This leaves me without a bedtime activity to weighten the eyelids and so I have an incentive to record something that has been with me since the first days of being here in India, my...

Toilet paper song!
"Don't use two when one will suffice, it isn't resourceful, it isn't nice!''
Nice, of course, referring to the environment and whoever paid for the loo roll.
Genius like this should not go unrecorded.