"You don't choose your family"

I've decided that it's time to take the advice and tell you more about Ramana's family. After all, it is the small moments with them which I cherish. I have a feeling I may end up repeating things which I've said in previous blog posts, so bear with me!

My host's name is V.V Ramana (in India surnames are written before given names) and I couldn't wish for anyone better. Ramana is a genuinely lovely and caring person; always buying me food, offering me things and, even after his motorbike accident yesterday, making me chuckle. His spoken English might not be amazing but his eagerness to make conversation, intrigue about life in 'London' and willingness to learn, all make up for it. We've had conversations ranging from the Olympics to James Bond and the adventures of Robin Hood (which I'm hopefully getting posted out on DVD for a Christmas present) to the electricity problems in Andhra Pradesh to my 'life plan' - when I told him about studying French and German at University, he immediately told me I have to teach him some words and phrases before I leave. Another thing Ramana wants - and needs - to be taught is how to use the computer. Whilst typing a list of tenth class student details, I found out that there are four more computers (although one's been ruined by the rain) in the school's equivalent of a storage room, but no one knows how to do anything apart from turn them on. I wonder who kindly donated those!

Ramana has two wives. There's quite a lot of gossip and speculation about why, and how, he has two wives - according to the teachers it's "not normal!"  However, I'm pretty sure the story goes something like this: Ramana's first marriage was an arranged marriage to Siva Kumari, who is a teacher at the school. Together they have two children, Vishnu, who seems to have the job of ferrying any food that Ramana wants between the two houses, and a daughter, who is off studying somewhere. Siva Kumari, Vishnu and Ramana, when he feels like it, live in a house closer to the bus stand, but further from the school, which I live opposite. Sometimes I visit Siva Kumari's house with Ramana, especially at festival time. She seems to like making little sweets and treats, some delicious and some which go straight in my bag, never to be eaten. Although it often means an extra meal in the day, I quite like visiting the house and watching Telugu films or cricket on the colour television, whilst Siva Kumari picks the bad grains out of the rice (and eats them) and Ramana eats an overflowing plate of rice and curry. Then there is Venkayamma, who was also a teacher at the school, until her marriage (which I think was a love marriage) to Ramana. Now she is the headmistress, which is one level down from Ramana, who is the Secretary and Correspondent. To start with Venkayamma didn't say a word to me, despite my constant cheery attempts to start a conversation. But slowly she seems to have warmed to me, and we often have conversations at meal times about curries, holiday or school among other things, and she sometimes invites me downstairs to watch Telugu soaps with her. She's even got into the habit of calling "Kaaatttiiieeee", like she does with the boys, when she wants me ... usually for tea, post or meals. Although her favourite hobby seems to be giving me tips on how to keep out mosquitoes, the latest being a bat which electrocuted them!

There are three boys in the hous: Raja and Balu in tenth class and Gopi in sixth class. Raja is Ramana and Venkayamma's son and he probably speaks the best English out of everyone, even though he claims that English is his worst subject. He is the one who has shown me around, helping me get to grips with living in Tangutur and will still come with me to the bus stand if I can't find something I need. He also took me to all of the different events at the Ganesh festival, so hopefully he'll do the same for me at Deepawali this week! After Abi left, Ramana made Raja sleep in my room for a couple of nights, to check that I was okay. To start with I thought that it was strange to ask a boy to sleep in my room, but because he is younger than me, it is "socially acceptable" as Ramana said. Raja will occasionally come to me for help with homework or using the computer and, as the same age as Josh, I often feel like I've adopted a new, less grumpy brother! I'm not so sure where Balu and Gopi fit into the family; 'cousins' can mean anything in India. But I'm slowly persuading shy, maths and insect-loving Balu to teach me to cook. Raja insists that Balu is the better cook but that could just be Raja trying to get out of the painful task of teaching me. And Gopi I'm already training up for next year, when Raja and Balu go off to college, and he will be the only one to look after the volunteers. His English will have to be perfect, as I often tell him. At least he'll be free of Raja and Balu's brotherly jokes - making him slip in the monsoon mud, joking about his exam results, and pretending they've eaten all the curry, so that he spoons curd onto his rice only to find a pan full of curry on the table! On Sunday's Gopi goes back to his villages because only tenth class have school. I always miss him at meal times: his ridiculous dancing, his cheeky smile, the way he rolls his mounds of rice into balls with his chubby hands, his twinkling eyes, and his talk of heroes, chocolates, and powerangers. Raja might be the one who reminds me of my brother, but Gopi is the one I'll be smuggling home!

I think that just about sums up the family but if I have forgotten anything do let me know. Next step will be telling you about some of the teachers!