Cathedral P.O.
Madras
August 26, 1936
Dear Abby:
It was so good to get your letter from Herdla, but I was sorry to hear that the fish had complained about the weather when it was cool enough for woolens. [sic] I can hardly think of woolen long enough to write the word.
For the first month after I arrived we had astonishingly cool weather, phenomenally cool weather, owing to an unusual amount of rain apparently, or perhaps both are due to the same thing; but it has warmed up, or perhaps I should say steamed up, as it is no hotter but it seems so on account of the humidity. It runs around 95° for a maximum every day, sometimes 97° or 97°, or even 98°, going down to around 80° at night. That was not so bad until it became so humid - now I reduce exertion to a minimum. In spite of it I feel very well and have not felt the need of running off to the hills to cool off. On the contrary I taught an extra class today because Mrs. Thivy, my colleague in Botany has gone to Trichinopoly - a day's journey - to the festivities of having the engagement of her brother announced. Such things are very important as family festivities and all her family have gone to Trichi for the event. I felt as if I had done very well to have four hours of laboratory and give a quiz. But tea and a bath and a ride along the Marina rested me enough so I shall dash off a note to you and then read for a 9 o'clock lecture.
Wellsey is laid up at present, but the difficulty seems to have been solved and we hope she will be all right now. She has not been well since she arrived, two days before I did - digestive troubles - something not usual with her. A week ago she went to Rainy Hospital and at first they thought it was just liver, but finally diagnosed it as "Latent dysentery", whatever that is, and put her through a course of treatment. I went to see her this afternoon and she is on the mend and hopes to come home tomorrow; she looked so much better than last Saturday that I felt quite cheered up. She says that now she is feeling strong enough to cut the grass. Mrs. John wants another gardener, so perhaps she can add that to her Mathematical duties.
It is good to be back in Madras; it is amazing how little it changes. The city has a few more houses, perhaps I should say, many more, and unfortunately they are building closer together than formerly, but Madras is still a city of houses and not one of apartment houses, like Bombay. India does not show the depression as much as America and Europe; they do not depend so much on outside trade as we do, nor so much on industry. To be sure they are always more or less depressed, except the Rajahs and plutocrats of various kinds.
Not an Indian has mentioned Gandhi since I came. His name rarely appears in the papers and he seems quite out of fashion. He is no longer used by the students i making conversation at dinner - to ask me if I had seen him or if I intend to see him; they are more likely to ask if I have seen Shirley Temple or "A Tale of Two Cities" which was here last week, or "Midsummer Night's Dream" which was here two weeks ago. (By the way, I agree with Charlotte on it but I can't remember what she said; and I am glad I saw it here where there was no extra price on it - it is not worth it. Too much fairy for me.) Miss MacDougall said that last year when Gandhi was in Madras hardly any of the students went to hear him although he spoke very near the college and it was very easy to go. I can see why the Hindus have cooled off on him, but his work for the Depressed Classes should not affect our students. However this is a different generation from the one that took to spinning.
I was surprised to find that I knew all of the resident staff but two, and one of those, Miss Rowe has just come from England. Two were not here on the staff when I was here, but I knew Mary Massalamini as a student, and Miss Gnanadickam both here and in America. The Botany Department has changed most. I am enjoying Mrs. Thivy, who has been here as Lecturer since 1931. She is very competent and very kind. Also there is a very good laboratory peon, or attendant, much better than the two that were here during my last incarnation; one of those was stupid and one was lazy, but Kesava Nair is both intelligent and willing, and has a most engaging smile. He is most helpful, e.g. he came and reminded me today when I had forgotten Mrs. Thivy's class to which I was to give a quiz. He collects material, sets out apparatus and puts it away, and is on hand to get me anything I want. He can tell me what to use for certain experiments and how things have been set up in other years. I wish I could take him home with me; he is just what I need in Clapp. My work is not nearly as heavy as in 1929, I am thankful to say. That was really too heavy and I would not care to try it again. I am enjoying my Plant Physiology this year and in 1929 I had not time to enjoy it - no time to get ready for it or plan it prpperly; [sic] it was a hand-to-mouth existence.
The great interest here is in the prospect of a new principal but no candidate is in sight so far as we know. It is a difficult post. Miss MacDougall says it needs someone with an independent income. She has felt that she needed hers. It must be very difficult to be a principal on the small missionary salaries. It would be much harder for the staff to get along if she did not have her own car but used the two college cars. It is hard enough for 15 of us to adjust our plants [sic] to two cars, but if the Principal had to do it also, it would be a scramble, and she would have first rights to a car. Miss MacDougall seems fairly vigorous but she is ready to retire and it is time; it is harder for her to hold things than it was. she is an able woman and a dear.
Eleanor let me off with one morning's metabolism, but I never heard how it was; I think it could not have been interesting. I managed to get her apparatus out here all right, but one part was not what she had expected and had to be altered.
Superficially I am amused at some of the changes - or amused at some of the superficial changes. More Indians wear sandals than in 1931, but the Europeans wear less on their feet; Miss Macdougall [sic], Edith and I are the only ones still in stockings; some wear barefoot sandals but so far no pink or red nails. Some of the Indian students have long bobs; in 1931 there were no bobs at all. The Indian sleeve has shortened. They were shocked by our sleeveless dresses in 1929 but now many of the Indians have sleeveless blouses or very short sleeves, while we are now having capes on our dresses and have covered our arms much more than in 1929.
This is the quiet term socially - too hot for effort - but I have been out several times. Four of [us] were at an "American Breakfast" at the American Consul's two weeks ago - an 11 'oclock [sic] breakfast on Sunday. Such a breakfast! Even buckwheat cakes (Aunt Jemima's), bacon and eggs, corned beef hash, and many other things. It reminded me of the breakfast at the Ashfield House back in 1914 on which we went out and found Mary Lyon's birthplace - Ethel Jackson, Mary Hogue and I. I felt that I ought to have hunted down some remote birthplace, but all I did was to hunt Mrs. Thivy's in the afternoon, a mile and a half or so away. Mr. and Mrs. Jordan are more socially inclined than any previous members of the consular service. Wellsey and I had lunch with Dr. and Mrs. Russell (Rockefeller Foundation - malaria work), ten days ago just before she decided she was sick. They are delightful people and have a beautiful collection of oriental rugs; they are making the most of the rugs on sale in India.
Time for bed. Love to the Table, and other friends. Do give me the news - there must be a good deal.
Much love for you and Charlotte,
Alma
There is one jasmine as it is sold in the bazaars. We got about 2 yards of it for about 4 cents. It is cut in short pieces - 4-8" - & worn in the hair, folded or rolled in a neat bunch.
