communication sous entendu

it does seem rather unlikely that i am in india, sitting barefoot in a dusty internet joint above the beep beeep, beepbeepbeep beep beeeeep street, gently perspiring into my gently clinging shirt, wondering where i am going to wee when the time comes. i speak next to nothing of tamil.  however, all the well-dressed young males on the street so far have been obliging and english-spoken when imparting information regarding buses.  after some bus information impartation, one youth inquired whether i was here on business and then inquired where i was from.  "ah scotland, very nice place"  i was thinking of what response i could give to this "very nice place" and the first thing that came into my mind was, it is cold in scotland.  i also thought, the streets are very peaceful and orderly in scotland.   what is a place if it is not different from other places?  i thought of Stirling Castle, the Myth of the Loch Ness Monster, the Pap of Glencoe, the Isle of Lewis, the town of St Andrews, the Standing Stones of Stenness, the Linn o' Dee, the Brig o' Balgownie... i brought to mind the image of all these places and surmised that that youth's comment was a fair one: Scotland is a very nice place.   he was probably referring to education and health care.   i took one look at the boys running after the crowded buses ahead and then jumping and grabbing onto the exterior railing, letting their feet dangle inches above the fast spinning road, and thought: i have always wanted to be in India.  disinterest in considerations of safety, grabbing on for dear life, palm trees and woman wearing beautifully swishing saris, sitting on the ground to eat, playing adroitly with the rice dish on one's plate, forming it into a pickupable ball before adroitly flicking it into one's mouth, just as matthias told me, in asha niketan, the l'arche community in chennai.   mary, the current head of the community rolled her head from side to side, as a gesture of welcome, of agreement, of complicity, of are-you-following-what-i-am-saying? just as matthais told me.   mary was draped stylishly in a rich dark green sari and rolled her head from side to side in a most captivating way.  i already had written to asha niketan a week before i arrived, but having received no response, i decided to phone them directly the second day after arrival.  the person on the line listened to my story and said "could you wait a minute?" then someone else came on the line who listened to my story and said "sorry could you say that again a little slower?" then after a while said to me: "yes, come any time you want"   i went through the gradations of directness of communication, from an email to a phone call to actually finding their address and walking in and shaking their hands.  an email is like waving to somebody from afar, from the other side of a wide river, phoning is also akin to waving from a certain distance, but much closer.  and presenting oneself directly in front, hand extended ... there were great handshakes full of friendly welcome as soon as i walked into their dusty strip of ground flanked by buildings, palm trees and young banana trees.  there was an instant acceptance, a quality handicapped people are famous and wonderful for.  i don't know if all of them realised that i spoke no tamil - one woman certainly did, for every time i crossed paths with her she would break into smiles of joy and exclaim gleefully: no tamil!   me not speaking tamil was the least of our concerns because there was so much joy in her eyes. with another call member (call members they are called in that community) i tried to imitate the sounds he was making which at one point included a singsong na, na na na na naa! which i duly imitated and thenceforth often the crossing of our paths was heralded by such singing to each other.   there was one guy this morning who became intent upon revealing some fascinating pieces of information to me as we were sitting outside on the wall.  perhaps it was a story he was retelling.  it involved lots of engaging hand gestures. quite frequently i discerned the word chennai, and knew he was telling me something about the city.  samira was another frequently discerned word, and i imagined it was the name of a girl, whose exploits he was recounting to me with great intensity of emotion.  at one stage i thought i could also pick out the odd word in italian, or french or german, or even english, phrases such as: allontonare or allons-y or geben mir or wishfully or perhaps even pontificate.  i told myself that it was very improbable that he was in fact using such words that were known to me, they were but sounds familiar to my ear which i desperately wished to attach meaning to.   well, i began responding in a bit of german and in a bit of english anyway, as well as accompanying his flowing speech with regular mmmms and aaaah yeses, in order that the conversation were not so one-sided, and, rather than mocking his offer of communcation with my show of fictitious understanding (something which did cross my mind), i graudally understood he did actually understand every word which i offered in response, that there was a great stream of sous entendu communication taking place between us, and what was produced a veritable frenzied exchange of our impressions of life.  he became very eloquent with his hand gestures, at times holding his hand palm upwards and making a little thrusting forward motion, indicating something quick and snappy, other times adopting a sort of surfing pose, one arm outstretched confidently, communicating to me the idea of great elegance and balance and poise, and other times it was a simple finger held in front of his face that gave a deft little wiggle.  i reproduced all of these gestures as best i could and his face beamed with enthusiasm and after more than half an hour it seemed that such rich communication between us could have gone on indefinitely.

franci (one of the few call members whose name was not so unfamiliar to my ears that i could recall it) was one of the few call members who did not smile, rather she pouted, and fixed me with an apprehensive little glare.  however, she did want to communicate things to me and did so by grabbing my hand and leading me on a walk, sometimes to the prayer hall - a small round low building - where there is a copy of the bhagavad gita, the bible and the koran all placed side by side on little lecturns on a table at the front.  there is also a candle and incense spot at the front next to a wild wavy flowery circular design made with little grains of rice on the floor.   she chose a wicker seat by the wall and i sat down next to her and there we simply looked at each other.