04 April, 2005 John's Medical Centre, Karaikudi

I've finally arrived at my destination for the next two months. I arrived in the town (the name of which I've forgotten), where the TPA head quarters are, last night at about 10:30pm. that was after a fairly uneventful car journey from Madurai that took about two hours. I spoke to the first other volunteers (other than my bed partner (Rob) and two dentists who don't count). A Dutch girl and an Irish girl who were both very friendly. Left the TPA offices this morning with Victor: possibly the most annoying man in creation. He meant well, but MY GOD! I'm so glad I only had 3 hours with him, in which I tried to sleep as much as possible. He kept playing a mix tape of nursery rhymes for kids which nearly made me leap out the window. I'll take my chances with the pavement...

We arrived here at about 5:30, and I was shown around town, met the host family and one of the volunteers (whose name I've forgotten as well). She's from Carlisle and seems OK.

Tomorrow is my first day of "work" so I'm looking forward to that, although I'm not sure how much more idli I can take, especially for breakfast! I think curry of any sort for breakfast should be illegal.

On the way from Madurai last night I saw a western man outside a building and was sure I knew him. Then I realised the building was a catholic church and the man was a statue of Jesus. Never mind.

Oh, and I killed a fuck off big cockroach (although I'm sure it was probably a baby and its mother is going to be pissed). I took some photos of the bastard too.

My room's a little like a prison cell, right down to the bars on the windows, but it's not too bad I suppose. I'll probably stay in worse places in the next few months. The beds seem clean and it has a ceiling fan and some shelves. I'm a little worried about eh switch for the fan though, which spark every time I turn it on, but then...hey! I'm insured aren't I...?

April 03 2005 1pm, Train Between Madras and Madurai, Seat W30

Train lines always seem to run through the areas you don't usually get to see; abandoned industry, scrap yards, the backs of terraced housing estates with rickety broken tiled roofs. It seems no different in India; I've passed slums, schools, dusty cricket matches and compact square housing in the poorer districts of towns whose names I'll never know. The train is probably topping out at 60mph max, but I don't mind because it means I miss less. Like the two goats eating the scrubby grass between the tracks, or that strange squirrel thing basking on a tin roof earlier.

The train itself is not how I expected it. I was thinking of something a little more "Hogwarts Express". What I got is a cavernously wide iron monster. Everything is riveted and grey and the air is blissfully cool (it was 33 degrees at 10am this morning).

The chap next to me is reading the FHM I bought in Heathrow. I hope it doesn't cause too much offence. He offered to swap places with e other TPA volunteer so we could sit together. If I'm honest I'm glad he didn't though because the other guy bores the fuck out of me. He's a music graduate from Southampton Uni who hasn't been able to decide what to do since he left uni. He should have done a real degree. He seems quite nice, but I just don't have anything in common with him. He arrived at about 4:30am and we had to share a double bed; it was too hot to lie under the covers and we were only on the bed for about an hour before we were woken to got to the train station.

I might try to get some sleep. The chairs are pretty comfortable, and I'm getting pretty bored of looking out the window. It just goes to show that you can get used to, and then bored of, pretty much anything.

April 2nd 2005, Chenai 21:46

Met the dude from Teaching and Projects fairly easily outside the airport (at least, I think it's him. He checked me into a hotel and bought me dinner, but it could all be a ploy to either steal my money or my innocence or both). Then we had a crazy taxi ride through Chennai rush hour. there's so much to see that at times I don't know where to look. Crazy things are happing everywhere, like the dude riding his old racing bike non-hander through the mental traffic whilst wiping his face on his shirt. And the hooting!! Constant, constant hooting. I'm sure my taxi driver was only using his out of habit or boredom. And has no one heard of seat belts/helmets.lanes in the road? It's all pretty fantastic and which makes it more and more difficult to avoid Cliché like "contrast" and "vibrancy". Like when I passed a grand brand new sky scraper, with some massive corporate logo outside right next to some homeless people sleeping under yellow tarpaulin.

Anyway, I've had a shower and a shave and spent a little golden time (i.e. had a relaxing dump) before a nice nap. Went down for dinner, had a starter of rice with cashew nuts and three chapatis. Except then it turned out not to be a starter at all. It was the whole meal and now I'm starving and a little angry. Also, I tried the sauce that the the TPA guy said was a bit like Soy Sauce. Again, this was a lie. It wasn't at all. It was more like some kind of chilli paste and was pretty hot. Still, nothing compares to that little green bastard from on the aeroplane and I get the feeling I'm going to have to get used to sweating and constantly blowing my nose when I'm eating.

April 2nd 2005, Mumbai Airport, about 2pm

So, this is India! And what a strange place it is. the airport is modern-ish and air-conditioned, but smells damp and must- almost like soil, or how I would imagine a rain forest to smell. It's in the mid/late 20degrees, but feels very humid. On the runway outside, private jets and huge airliners flank massive shanty towns. The Indian army are strutting around with old Russian automatics and their funny beige uniforms. Also, I don't think my ears have fully recovered from he flight yet, which gives everything I hear a muffled strangeness which just adds to the surrealism of me actually being in India. Plus, the air conditioning is noisy and bloody annoying, I can't find an ATM, I'm thirst , a little bored and my lips are dry cracked and sore. So far I can see why we gave the Indians back their country, although of course I've only seen the inside of one airport so far.

I've also lost the ability to write in straight lines without having to think about it. Oh well, only four more months...

Oh, and apparently in India when crisps are called "spicy" they really are, instead of the just the shitty sweet imitation that we get in the UK. Maybe this isn't going to be so bad after all...

7:00pm Local (8pm India, 2:30pm GMT) April 1st 2005

We're somewhere over Jesus land at the moment, but I'm not sure where- Tehran or Tie Rack or something (I think the lack of sleep is affecting me). The scenery isn't to hot neither- miles and miles of brown desert scattered with mountains and what from this height look like dry river channels, but no civilisation that I can make out. I think I got some sleep earlier, but with the time difference, the speed at which dawn broke and the rubbish quality of any sleep I did get mean it's hard to tell. The in-flight meal was quite nice, but the single servings made me feel a little lonely; there's something inherently depressing about a chocolate pudding for one.

I at a whole slice of green chilli by mistake which was deeply unpleasant. The pain was compounded by the amusement this caused to the man sitting next to me. I hope this plane crashes and I'm the only survivor. In fact, I hope this plane crashes and he's the only casualty.

April 1st 2005, Heathrow Airport

...and so seated comfortable, on the back of this enormous buzzymost of the fly...VROOOP! They took it off like an escape velocity of the rocket floating into orbit!

~Mad John by The Small Faces

London, with it's functioning rail network, complex infrastructure and mild weather will soon be far behind me. The last two days have been an amazing adventure and have shown me that I can cope on my own= imagine what the next three months will be like! I imagine this could be the making of me...

India airways is strange. Soft piano music is tinkling above the whuur of the air conditioning (a sound I'm sure I'll come to love where ever I can find it) and the chitter-chatter of adults and children returning from or embarking on their holidays. More strange though us that the interior of the plane is decorated just like the inside of a curry house. The "wall paper" looks like something I used to doodle on my folders or a hippy might wear and is a sickly swamp green, More tomorrow...or later tonight if I'm bored.