Week 1

An Introduction

I have been in India for a week now.  A week during which I have survived a storm, the likes of which I have never personally seen; been a part of both the overpowering population density of Mumbai and the purposeful bustle of the rural village, Malavli, in which I’m staying; eaten some of the best food (with certain caramel-laden exceptions) I’ve yet experienced with names that I’m trying desperately not to mangle; rode on a wonderfully terrifying train, hanging on to my purse with one hand and the side of the express line from Pune to Lonavala with the other; and pissed in a squatting toilet with no toilet paper in sight.  It has been a good week.

This is the naïve face of a girl who has never had to squat to piss without toilet paper.

I was hoping to write an entry much earlier than this, but because of the mental and physical effort associated with arriving at a completely new and utterly different environment, I have spent most of my free time sleeping.  I guess a week in is as good a point as any to start a blog though.  But before I do, I want to clarify the reason that I’m writing this:  It’s because I think India is fucking cool and if you do too, then hopefully you’ll enjoy reading on.

A little bit of background information...

In February, I made the decision to come here.  I’m going through ISA (International Studies Abroad) and doing one of their ELAP (some service-learning acronym) programs.  I saw that there was a program that focused in rural and urban healthcare in India and I made the down payment that night.  Because I don’t half-ass anything, I put in my application for 12 weeks, the longest available program.  Also, I’ve always wanted to run away. 

An Arrival in India

Several vaccinations, fucked final exams, and a last minute trip to San Francisco for a visa later, I arrived at the Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport in Mumbai.  The second I stepped off of British Airlines Flight 69 (lol), I was surrounded by heat and humidity.  My first thought was to call bullshit on all the people who had told me that this was to be “dry heat” before the monsoons hit.  Dry heat, my ass. Relative to Utah, Mumbai was in no position to claim “dry.”  Overall, however, I was just excited to get out of the airport and see the city.

**One of the most irritating things in the world is when you are not blessed with the luxury of a window seat on an airplane and those who are so blessed cover their windows.  I hate these people.**

I suppose this is the part where I describe my first impressions of the country I’ve been dreaming of visiting for years.  This is almost impossible to do with any accuracy because my first impressions of India were a violent attack to the senses.  What I could feel, hear, see and smell were delivered in such an abundance that to accurately portray my experience would be like trying to describe god to a penguin or Justin Timberlake to the deaf – it simply cannot be done.  But, here goes… I’ve already mentioned it was hot and humid, but in the back of creaking, air condition-less taxi, I fully appreciated the heat.  Immediately after leaving the airport premises, I found myself in the middle of a slum, a real Slumdog Millionaire slum.  Thousands of people, milling about between cramped convenience stores and food vendors, surrounding a density of cardboard and sheet metal shacks, sometimes just tarps held up by branches and rope. I began to appreciate the smell of Mumbai.  The scents of trash and feces that one would typically associate with such a place were there, but subdued behind those of cooking food, incense, and sweat.  But honestly, the thing that struck me the most about this new and exciting world was the traffic.  It scared the hell out of me.  A combination of many small things was to blame. For instance, the fact that India drives on the other side of the road – a fact that I have been having a hard time remembering when crossing the street. Also, 100% of the time, someone is honking his or her horn. I’ve learned that the horns are used copiously to alert other drivers that someone is stopping, turning, approaching, passing, or for the usual “get out of my way, asshole” sentiment. So it's loud. Lane designations are also not heeded in the slightest, so there can be two bikes and a car in one lane, all trying to get past each other before overtaking the huge truck ahead. Despite this, the drivers of thousands of cars and millions of motorcycles, mopeds and autorickshaws maneuver with the grace of madness in between each other and pedestrians with centimeters to spare and the aloof attitude one only gains from having their shit down pro.

When the first ride in a new country has zebra/tiger print seat covers, you know you made a good decision.

                       

This was one of the first sights of Mumbai.  There will be more pictures when I return in five weeks.

This melody of smell and sound and emotion remained consistent during my short cab ride to the apartment that will be my place of residence when I stay in Mumbai.  For the next six weeks (now five), however, I will be in Malavli, south-west-ish of Mumbai.

A Week in Malavli

I could go through this day by day, but that sounds tedious for everyone involved, so I’ll just summarize so far – this is turning out to be quite long, so if you’re still with me (family members only by this point I’m assuming), thanks guys!  So far, I’ve met with four organizations in and around Malavli: Two private health centers, Kamat Hospital and Parakh Children’s Hospital, and two government funded, Malavli Primary Health  Center, and an AIDS rehabilitation center.  Mostly, I’ve been observing the way that rural healthcare centers are ran and how doctors interact with their patients.  I’ve learned a lot about the treatment of common rural diseases and how diagnoses of these conditions are carried out.  I see patients with doctors for around six hours per day and I get to ask them questions and sometimes they even ask me questions, which feels like a pop quiz on a subject I have never taken.  But, good thing I’m anemic and can lay down anemia facts like a boss.  Anemia, as well as other conditions arising from poor nutrition, are very common here.  Gastrointestinal diseases and seasonal diseases like malaria, TB, and rabies are also pretty common.  As unfortunate as these illnesses are, I’m really fortunate that I can see the symptoms present with each of them and the most cost-effective way to treat them.

I also observed two surgeries at Kamat Hospital.  One was a tubal ligation via laparoscopy, which was pretty standard (I imagine).  In the other one, though, a woman had three abscesses in her gluteal muscles. I didn’t know these abscesses were pus-filled until the surgeon cut into one… I won’t describe it, but have you ever watched those videos with people popping ridiculously huge pimples on their backs?  It was kind of like that except multiplied by three and, like, a quart of pus and blood.  I so didn’t almost pass out.

So far, I’m adjusting well and dealing with the inevitable culture shock associated with moving half way around the world.  Some of the differences between India and the US, like the language, weather, gender roles, and religious presence, are fascinating and insightful.  If you were wondering, I speak what can easily be rounded down to zero Hindi and absolutely zero Marathi, the state language of Maharashtra, where I am. I can somewhat read it, but that’s only self-taught and not too reliable.  And if you were wondering, I have not picked up a damn thing in my week here.  Well, that’s not entirely true.  I can buy toilet paper and train tickets. I can ask people their names and sort of have a completely superficial conversation.  So, yeah.  The language barrier is one of the hardest obstacles when I am at hospitals.  Because I’m in a rural area, most people don’t speak English very well and sometimes don’t speak Hindi, just Marathi.  I listen a lot and I’ve picked up some medical words.

Oh, and there are cows everyone.  And that is cool shit. <3

Also, I stick out like crazy – mostly because I’m white, but also because I’m a really tall woman.  I’ve never felt like I’ve been in danger so far, but there have been few times that men on trains or when I’m walking home start getting pretty friendly.  I wear pretty conservative clothes, which isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, heat-wise.  But I do have some Indian kurtis that are always refreshing to wear.

Malavli experiences government-designated power cuts, to divert power to bigger cities like Pune and Mumbai.  The water is also threatening to go out at any time.  Despite this, I’ve been able to take pretty regular showers and have wifi.

The main street in Malavli.
The village is an incredible blend of rural Indian culture and modern technology,
and truly one of the most amazing places I've had the opportunity to be a part of. 

The house that I call home, a.k.a. the Yellow House

I work around five or six hours a day, which is not extraordinary by any means.  So far this week, though, all my free time has been spent sleeping or eating.  I’ve seen most of Malavli and somewhat explored Lonavala where I am for work.  Also, earlier today, I took a trip to Pune, about 60 km away (160 km away from Mumbai), which is one of India’s technology hubs.  It’s also home to the Aga Khan Palace where Gandhi was interned and where he and his wife’s ashes rest.

Aga Khan Palace, Pune, Maharashtra
It says "Here rest the ashes of Mahatma Gandhi."  

Anyway, this is long enough, and you are pretty much caught up with my life of the last week.  If there is anything you are just dying to know or if you just would like to have a lovely conversation, Wifi is available to me here and I would very much welcome it!  Namaste.

"Dude, I'm in India."
-Me