The final days. Week 10

I left off in my last post with days on the beach, an Indian wedding and another day in the hospital. So now I move on to the last weekend in India, and the final workweek before I board the big bird in the sky and return to home. Let’s begin…

December 2, Friday

Mumbai.

I have seen nine cities all around India, Mumbai was the last stop taking the count to an even 10! I left Friday morning on a non-stop, 3.5 hour train ride to India’slargest city. I arrived a little after 10 and was off in search for a hotel. Originally I planned to stay one night in a nice hotel and explore two days. Plans changed. Similar to my adventurous attitude I had in Goa I went without any hotel reserved. Good thing. The taxi took me all over town while I searched for a reasonably priced, nice hotel with Wi-Fi. No such luck. In a big city, a 5 meter x 5 meter small room was 5000-6000 rupees. Not worth it to me. So instead I had the taxi driver give me a small tour around the city. The sights I was told to see:

Bain temple

The Victorian

Dhobi Ghey

Taj mahal hotel

Gateway of India

Marine drive

Fish aquarium (random and not nearly as cool as ours)

Mani Bhavan

Kam La Nehru Park

You still find the big city sadness

Buhu Chowpatt

(sorry if I butchered the spelling, the taxi drivers spelling may not be correct) 

The mumbai cloths washing capital!

It had many attributes of a big city.

Once I had seen the city it was back to square one. I would rather spend my last weekend in Pune. Mumbai was a big city, it was similar to Delhi and as a solo white woman my options of exploring were limited. I didn’t know what I would do for 72 hours. So I left.

Oh, and once I finished sightseeing, I decided to spend the money I would have spent on a hotel for a day at the spa. A 1-hour aromatherapy massage, a 1-hour Thai massages and a 1-hour reflexology. Wonderful.

Impulsively I stopped my taxi-provided tour at the bus station, and once again the story began to get interesting.

It was around 7 PM. While I was in the process of buying a bus ticket home, two women approached me. “Are you going to Pune?”

“Yes”, I said.

“Would you like to split a taxi with us back to Pune, the bus makes lots of stops and could take 5 hours. A taxi will only take 3 or 4 depending on traffic, and it is cheaper!”

Count me in!

The drive took around 3.5 hours, making the time 10:30 PM. Late for a woman to take the 10 km (30 minute rickshaw ride) back to the guest house, but I wasn’t too worried. With the sightseeing taxi-ride and a massage I never had the chance to eat, and at one point I made a comment about being hungry... As per Indian hospitality, one of the girls, Radhika invited me to her house to share some dinner.

I couldn’t resist.

Dada, and the Dabak’s didn’t know I was home, so food wasn’t easily accessible anywhere else, and it was late, and I love meeting new people. After all, my trust had been built after a 210 minute cramped taxi ride. She was 32, married with an 8 year old, and lived with her in-laws. The taxi station was near her house so within the hour a hot meal was in front of me.

Another unexpected adventure and another story to tell.

Her mother in-law was an older lady who was SO excited I had come for a visit. She immediately whipped up tea and a small dinner. All she wanted to do was make me comfortable, even with my pleading for her not to go to such the trouble. They were indisputably nice people.

After dinner, we chatted about my escapades through India while I shared pictures of my family and friends back home. By now it was 11:30 PM and I insisted it was time to get on the road. It was very late and the rickshaws don’t like driving past 10. I packed up my belongings and was walked out by the whole family.

Again, the plot thickens…

The only rickshaw we could find wanted to charge 300 rupees, OUTRAGEOUS, and no other driver wanted to make the trek across city.

Her husband and mother in-law starting chatting in Mahrati, looked at me and then proposed that I should stay with them for the night.

“You are a guest in my home, if anything were to happen to you tonight, I would feel personally responsible. Please, it would be an honor for you to stay with us, our guest is our god, and you are so wonderful. If you don’t mind a small mattress, please stay.”

I couldn’t resist.

They were so sincere, and genuinely concerned for my safety.

How typical of Shelane. I stayed the night with a family I had only known for an hour.

My compelling argument if you think it was a rash and irresponsible decision: I had spent 3.5 hours in a taxi with this women. She was older and I knew her life story by the time we got to Pune; she opened a boutique on her own.

It had to be safe! I slept well, and was warmly awakened with tea and breakfast biscuits. After about an hour, I decided it was really time to head home. With a warmhearted goodbye I boarded the rickshaw.

I told you it was an interesting story; definitely blog material.

Of course I couldn’t leave without a picture.

December 3, Saturday

I love Pune. After 5 weeks I am comfortable here. I may not be able to tell the exact the longitudinal and latitudinal coordinates in relation to the guesthouse, but I recognize the malls, shopping, restaurants and home.

I am unbelievably talented at pointing to a scribbled address written in Mahrati. I arrive at my destination trouble free [80% of the time] Even with mis-direction a phone call to Dada to lead the way with direction works every time.

I was on my own, with the whole day ahead of me, time to make the rounds through the city I have become so comfortable in.

First stop: M.G. Road AKA Camp. AKA the market, and the most westernized part of Pune. I didn’t have the intention of shopping; I just wanted to stroll around the city. I found mango dip cones (mango ice cream dipped in “turtle shell” chocolate--that hardening stuff when it touches cold).  I bought a cone, sat down at a table, pulled out my journal (not my blog, but the personal leather bound journal I bought in Daramshala). I have been behind on journaling lately. I had been focusing on things like blogging, working at the hospitals, IE3 paper work and evaluations, exploring the city and so, so much more. I just didn’t have the time to dedicate to the more personal aspects I have experienced. So I made time. I filled several pages with thoughts, memories, perspective and judgments, and when I was satisfied with the content I walked around some more. The sun was shining, and people were everywhere.

Mid journal intermission-

I find myself not being able to blog solely on the tasks of the day anymore. As the end nears I feel it a necessity to reflect and add in the little things.

Continuing on…

It was Dada’s wedding anniversary so he was spending the day in anther parts of the city. When I returned home I was by myself, and it was late. I watched a movie, and happily went to sleep.

December 4, Sunday

Many places to explore, and time is running out! So I got up early and went on my way.  I spent another beautiful day roaming the streets. The daytime was short as the night time would be long and the highlight of the week: party on the terrace of Mr. and Mrs. Dabak’s house. It would be a fabulous congregation of all the doctors, and colleagues in the program. Hema was also in attendance, she is the CFHI India [head-honch] coordinator who spoke at a United Nations meeting. She is kind of a big deal! 

I am glad to have met her. Apurva, Dada, the Dabaks, some other friends, and all of the doctors I had worked with over the previous 5 weeks, all together at once. What a special night. Another highlight was meeting my IE3- CFHI Oregon coordinator. He works in Portland, Corvallis and Eugene but somehow we  never crossed paths before. Correspondences for months, and several phone calls later we finally got to shake hands. It was a welcome party for him and Hema, a Sunday night get-together for all of the Doctors and Pune residents, and a going away party for me! I decided to dress up again in a saree--after all this would probably be the last Indian special shin-dig I would experience. Besides, they are extremely fun to wear!

I must admit, originally it was slightly awkward being surround by so many CFHI proprietores but Apurva and I chatted while everyone helped themselves to snacks and soda. She wants to work for CFHI in the future so both of us were very excited to jump into the conversation. She would be a great womn for the job.

This party only happens once a year, and I am glad I could be there. The Dabaks were wonderful hosts; there was food, good conversation and even alcohol. Dr. Dabak asked if I drink hard alcohol in the United States, and if I did I was welcomed to pour myself one. Originally I didn’t know what the right answer was but I couldn’t lie, I admitted I did, and had a drink. All CFHI coordinators took part in a before dinner drink. It was the perfect time to spark conversations unrelated to the hospitals or patients. We could actually talk about ourselves. I bonded with several doctors particularly Dr. Rajan Joshi and his wife, Vidya. It was a lovely night that I will remember forever.

Nobody wanted the conversations to end, but around midnight we decided the party had to end.I wide rome sideways on a bike. It was both terrifying and conquering. Love you Dada, but you are too damn small. I look massive next t you 5 foot stature. 

December 5 & 6, Monday and Tuesday

Back to Mangeshkar hospital. I have spent a lot of my stay in Pune at this particular hospital. I like it. Doctors know me and I am free to roam about the corridors as I see fit. 

At the party I was approached by the hospital administer; I had met her my first day at Mangeshkar, but hadn’t seen her since. She asked me why I hadn’t come to her office again, as she would have helped me see other departments besides the labor room. I was confused by what she meant because I had visited several other floors at the hospital.

The labor room:

 I roamed at my own will, visiting the oncology, hematology, emergency room, pediatric and developmental ODP (out patient department), NICU, operation theatre and the recovery room (maybe others too). She was both glad and impressed that I took the initiative to explore the hospital on my own.

This particular day was slow so I left for home early. 9 AM- 2 PM isn’t necessarily a short shift, but since the labor and deliver room was baby-free, I saw it appropriate to depart. I had other things on my agenda anyway.

I returned home, changed and immediately traveled back into the city. The guesthouse is on the outskirts of town so anywhere I wanted to go was approximately a 100 rupee/ 20 minute rickshaw ride away.

Monday night adventures:

Deccan Street. A strip of small boutiques and restaurants and also the location of my favorite restaurant which is famous for my favorite dinner in India, dosa. I had been to this restaurant before with the girls on Thanksgiving. I knew it was good! So I sat down and had a similar time as Sunday. Very intently I filled more pages in my journal and people watched in the very overcrowded restaurant. Very entertaining. Two things about this situation are noteworthy.

1.     The power goes out often in India. The first few weeks I found this both annoying and startling, but now… I don’t even notice it. The lights went out 8 or 9 times during my dinner, an unusually large number, even for India, but I found myself patiently waiting until the generator would turn on, or the power would return. It may be a nuisance, but I was strangely unbothered.

2.     As I was writing in my journal a woman, about my age approached my table. She said that she had seen me the day before on M.G. Road, writing in the same journal, just as intensely. She curiously asked me what in the hell I was writing. She said she had seen me a few times prior, but couldn’t pass up the chance to ask about my journal and my travels to India. I never got her name but I gave her a ten minute synopsis about my travels and experiences. She was shocked. Shocked and jealous that in a short, 10 week period I had traveled more of India than she had. She grew up in Pune, and had only twice been to other cities (Mumbai and Agra for the Taj Mahal).

Now I was the one who was shocked. I thought how could you live in a country and never see any of it. At first I immediately assumer it do to the gender roles of India; which for the majority is correct, women don’t travel alone. Women of my age particularly don’t travel alone. She said she was inspired to do more traveling, and was happy to have met someone who was enjoying India so much. It was an abruptly started and an abruptly ended meeting-- she had left her friends to come chat and got pulled away unwillingly.

I have no idea who this girl was, but after she left I couldn’t help but think of our conversation. I am so lucky. So lucky to have come on this internship. There are so many people who never explore outside their own borders. It made me think about the several people from home, in Oregon that have never left the state. I can’t imagine. Traveling is one of the most rewarding things you can do for yourself. Perspective, culture, new friends, and new stories. After I told her all of these things my advice to her was to just pack up her suitcase and Go! I hope she did. I would like to think I made an impression on her. If I can do it, she can too!

Within a few minutes I returned to journaling (and added her into it), finished my dosa and Mazza soda (mango flavored soda made by Coco-cola, delicious, and only in India). 

Tuesday night Adventures:

Luxmi road: the traditional Indian market in town. 

Streets lined with shops of fabric, gold and silver, clothing, restaurants and food stands, jewelry, cookware, fruit stands and flea markets, flowers , decorations, novelty items and other handmade goods.

You wont find anything walmart-esque on Luxmi road!

Although this could be considered a ‘tourist’ spot since the shopping is so abundant, ultimately this area serves the natives. Crowded, loud, busy and bursting with color. I couldn’t describe an Indian congregation better even if I tried. This time I wasn’t alone however, I was roaming around with Eric, my IE3 and India advisor. He was only in town for a few days, he had an assignment to film some footage for a work project, and explore. Count me in!

This isnt me and Eric on Luxmi road it is when he came and visited me in the hospital!

We toured around that part of town for 3-4 hours. I finished up the night with some last minute souvenirs and ANOTHER festival. This time it wasn’t Hindu, but Muslim. Originally neither Eric nor I new what the celebration was for, but a shop owner filled us in. There were so many police and gaurds, and huge crowds. A crowd formed around us at one point--- the digital camera seems to attract unwavering attention every time. 

Eric got pulled aside by an officer (and of course I followed) he politely told us to keep moving if we were done for pictures. I initially thought we were getting kicked out (eek!) :-/ but only safe precautions to avoid a big scene. Good advice officer [dressed in a tan colored suit] holding a large rifle and big stick. The police were large in number and on high alert. 

The drums played, and a large procession of hand-made towers, fire, smoke, streamers and happy people walked the streets.

Who knew we would have front row seats to a festival. As the sky darkened, the lights glowed brighter. 

By eight it was time to go home. I said farewell to Eric as he was flying out early in the morning. It was another conversation to enjoy, I left with a sense of comfort knowing that every students trip to India has to come to an end at some point. I know he will be a good source of consolation when I get home and my reverse culture shock begins. 

December 7, Wednesday

Wednesday = Pediatric OPD time with Dr. Rajan Joshi!

74 patients in 3 hours = A LOT of exposure. As a student you can see a massive amount of patients in a short time.

I saw the usual cough and cold however I also saw the bizarre and extremely unfortunate. A ten year old boy who had come in a month prior with complaints of an on-going headache and blurry vision in the right eye. A CT scan and MRI later they discover a 3cm cystic mass near his optic chiasm (where your optic nerves crisscross) It was benign, but growing quickly, he had to have it surgically removed resulting in permanent blindness, partial paralysis of facial muscles, several cranial sutures and staples, and a young boy’s decreased quality of life. Another bizarre case surrounded subdural hemorrhages. Worried parents brought in their four year old daughter who had begun to develop blue blotches on her legs. Sounds like a harmless problem however two of their children prior had the same manifestations and had died because of spontaneous intracranial bleeding. She was their only child left… showing the same symptoms their deceased babies had shown prior. Genetic or bad luck? 

Several worried parents, screaming children, happy babies and many, many prescriptions later, OPD was over.

It was on to the neonatal intensive care unit to check in on the newborn babies. 

Special cases:

An 800 gram baby had been born the night before- 26 weeks and breathing on his own.

A 1.1 kg baby had been born three nights prior, 28 weeks and wasn’t breathing on her own. Her parents didn’t want their baby to be ‘mentally challenged’ (irrationally assumed she would be) and requested to deny further treatment so god would take over. Dr. Rajan joshi of had a long discussion with the parents insisting that there was a very good chance that, if they left the baby on the ventilator for a little while longer she would [probably] survive; they had already made their decision. They took the baby home. She would most likely die within the week.

After a long day with 74 people the workweek was over. It was more exploring for the majority of the night and then a special dinner with Dr. Rajan joshi and his wife. He picked me up and took me to the PYC, the Pune Youth Club. Although it has the name youth club the reasoning is not because the complex is for children. It was a private club with a huge cricket field, a swimming pool on the top and then multiple restaurants. You had to be a member at the club but the food and drinks were wonderful. We talked a lot about my future, dreams, expectations of India, my experiences, and most prominently Rajan and his wife Vidya wanted to talk about my return and the purposes of my future visit.

It was an inspiring conversation.

I feel like I have had many superb conversations recently. I have gained so much perspective from listening to others, but also given so much perspective to others.

I hope I have helped just as many people who have helped me, patients and other people alike. 

December 8, Thursday

Back to the rural village in Yelse, back to the Primary Healthcare Center that serves all of the surrounding villages. One last look at the rural villages of India for the time being.

 It was a slow day (which is a good thing because that means no body is sick but……..boring for a medical student). The most exciting thing was when I arrived. I had bought many medical supplies in the United States, gauzes, N-95 pathogenic mask, surgical masks, hypodermic needles, Anti-Diarrheal medicine (originally bought for myself, but I never needed it, YAY!), hand sanitizer, alcohol wipes, moist cloths, bathing wipes, otoscope and attachments, blood pressure cuff, and a pupil gauge/‘torch’. When I started passing the supplies out, everyone was so happy. The called me a government servant and an American miracle worker. It was such a good feeling!

However, one thing I found quite alarming is that none of the nurses knew the difference between a “good” mask and a “bad” one. AKA which ones that will protect you from pathogens and bacteria (if used properly) and which ones that are only beneficial for grabbing sweat, or opposing coughs and sneezes. So I had a little crash-course on how, why and when to use the masks They all LOVED IT!!!

After a quick meal and health education class at one of the small women’s school, it was back to home to Pune, for my final night.

Of course, it is not possible for my last night to go as planned…. Pshhh… This who adventure has been a spontaneous whirlwind (which I love so much).

A flat tire!!!

Dada came to the rescue and changed the tire in about 15 minutes; just enough time for me to walk around aimlessly to the other side of the road. 

I couldnt help but notice that the first 5 weeks of my stay everything was so green, and now, simply put-- it is not. I still find it picturesque, the newfound diversity of the seasons reflected on the mountainside.

India provided me with one more beautiful sunset. One more pollution-filled, red burning fireball in the sky. 

December 9, Friday

Goodbye Pune.

Hello Delhi.

December 10, Saturday

Goodbye Delhi.

Goodbye India.

Hello United States, Oregon and home.

Xoxo,

India and Shelane

Dear India,

Thanks for being so good to me. You will forever hold a special place in my heart. This is not ‘goodbye’; this is ‘see you later’. Our paths will cross again… soon. I promise

I wish the best health and happiness to everyone who (both in India and in the states) has helped make this journey what it was.

The next few posts, will not be about new tasks, and new people.
This past week when I began to realize the end was near I started a 'final reflections' entry. A picture filled, emotional recolection of my past 10 weeks. It is going to be a good one. I will write to you soon,