WHO? WHO? Reports

Llamaji, the award winning, overweight, beagle is so cute. He received alot of backrubs this week from me.

Winnie took us to a talk at the Hyatt this week after work without any notice. Everyone was dressed impeccably. I was very self-conscious of my plain t-shirt and shirt. However, whatever blush colored my cheeks was mitigated by greeting Rotary Club members. It was their weekly meeting. The talk was on Safety Injections given by a man who worked for the WHO and now worked with BD Industries. Note to self: I will probably have to start brining a change of clothes to work everyday ...Also, the ice cream served at the meeting is second to Winnie and the General's ice cream and first to the ice cream served at Big Chill, Khan Market.

Week 2: I am working on a report of the current public healthcare status on India for a newly funded project by the Australian government (due Friday). Numerous World Health Organization reports show that India has been improving over the last 5 years in healthcare infrastructure and government funding. In my interpretation, the statistics are still very, very dismal despite some progress. For example, India is contains the second largest HIV/AIDS infected population in the world. However, India’s therapy coverage is only an eighth of what other developing countries with a similar economic profile are covering. Similar trends continue when medical personnel per 100,000 people and hospital beds available per 100,000 are compared with other countries. Problems are exacerbated by shear country size and inconsistencies of health care systems within each state.

Varanassi

Looks like no trip Jaipur and Agra. The roads are closed due to protestors; the tribe Gujjars. Their request to remain lower castes which would have allowed them specific benefits was rejected by the state of Rajasthan. As such, protestors have stopped highway traffic and trains to all roads leading to Agra and Jaipur from Delhi…Like everything in India, all plans are subject to change. So this last weekend, we went to Varanassi, the holiest city in Hinduism.

The overnight sleeper train ride to Varanassi was basic. Bunks, no AC, gated windows, mosquitoes. I didn’t bring any sheets. The trip was literally planned on the spot. I usually sleep like a champ, anywhere, anytime, but my senses were assaulted all night and there was no way I would get sleep. Sellers would up and down the aisles repeating “Chai, chai, chai” or “pani, pani, pani (water) or “omelet with mango chutney. Very good!” I would wake to my skin sticking to the dingy plastic bed, or some smell burning my nose or swooshing, cracking noises as other trains rushed by. Flickering fluorescent lights did not help. Rough night. The AC train on the way back from Varanassi was 150%+ like the cost of the ticket.

After arguing with the TAXI driver, we finally arrived at the Ganges Guest View House at Assi Ghat. The place has a British colonial era feel to it. Stepping outside our room is a larger, brighter room with windows framed with light curtains overlooking patios and the Ganges. This room was my favorite place to journal this weekend. Artists (Varanassi is known for art and music) work round the clock painting miniatures and large murals for the hotel. Two dachshund roamed about the black and white tiled floors. Dinner was fantastic.

Varanassi is described as the “quintessential India,” and it’s trippin’. The wide display of human activities and emotions are unbelievable and overwhelms the sense as you walk down the ghats. Everything revolves around the river. Cows, water buffalo and goats are shitting as they meander along the stone ground while a man shits nearby while ten feet away are boys splashing around in the Ganges while 200 meters downstream a grandson gives his grandfather last rites in the same water while a pyre, where the body will be cremated, burns 5 feet away while a man fishes in the river as gigantic bats fly overhead. The Ganges This is only the evening.

The next morning at 5:00 AM, a different jumbled events are happening; a priest welcomes the sun with smoke and incense as sun worshippers meditate while staring directly at the orange orb rising above the Ganges, while Aghoris meditate, skin gray from the ashes of the recently deceased, and a yoga class is amplified through speakers and illustrated above a crowd of children and chanting is sung round the clock. There is more bathing, this time by the women. The men overlooking the cremation are now turning over the Grandfather's skinny body with a long stick. The ghats are where everything is happening at the same time at the same place. Varanassi it like a page from Where’s Waldo India except living it is more of a shocking realization of the bare essentials of human living in one scene rather than an amusing scene of antics on a page.

More pics to come

Hinkley Institute of Politics Shout Out

I could go on and on about Llamaji or Varanassi or rickshaws or train rides (later blogs), but before I do, I'd like to give a shout out to the Hinkley Institute of Politics for making international internships possible. As such, I'll be summarizing work and highlights! at the end of each week for you and Courtney.

Week 1: A lot of settling and becoming familiar with all of Maitri sites around Delhi; a closed classroom, a classroom and a women’s training center, the office and attached classroom all on the outskirts of the slums.
Working on a short research topic effective modes of HIV/AIDS communication within 4 populations. Haven’t found much on India’s situation, but findings in Africa should be sufficient case studies. I’m surprised that I have not found more on India. Joined AIDS/India E Group

Initial Reaction: Everything I expected

India was everything I expected when I arrived the next night. Rain storms hailing in the beginning of the monsoon season, mangoes signaling in the beginning of the mango season, cars weaving in and out. India smells fresh and humid, almost like Vietnam.

Wheeling and dealing: JFK, Terminal 4

JFK airport was funny. I’ve never experienced Terminal 4, JFK like I did on May 21, 2008. After finding that my direct flight to New Delhi, India was cancelled and rerouted, I had three hours in my possession. The terminal is split into two levels; a pit and an upper level. Tel Aviv, London, Buenos Aires, Mumbai flights were that night, and the pit was brimming with ethnicity and fabric. It was apparent I was not in the U.S. when I went to compare the rates at the foreign exchange booth. The conversation with the man at the booth was hilarious because I was having it in JFK Airport and not in India or Vietnam. It went something like this…

“How much do you want to exchange?”

“$200”

“Exchange more and I can get you a deal. See here.” (pointing to a leaflet)

“Alright, what about $300? And what’s the fee?”

“The fee is $6, but for you, $3.”

“What?! Can you do that? You just can’t do that. It doesn’t make sense. What about $2 then or $1.45?”

“I’m trying to give you a deal. You don’t want a deal?”

I hesistated, trying to think of the loop hole.

“Ok, ok, ok. I need to get more money…”

“I will be waiting” (smile)

[interlude while I went to pull more money and to think]

“I forgot to ask, what is the exchange rate?”

“36 rupees to 1 dollar”

“What? No way. Its rupees to 1 dollar”

“Where did you look? Hotel rates? Those are incorrect.”

“It’s supposed to be 40 rupees to 1 dollar. I’m planning on exchanging in Delhi. Just tell me, should I exchange everything in Delhi?” (smile)

Yassuf smiles back and leans in closer to the plastic pane.

“I am supposed to tell you to exchange here because I work here, but since you are so nice, I will tell you to exchange in Delhi. You can get at least 40 rupees at the airport, and even better on the streets, blackmarket, 42 rupees. Is someone coming to get you? They would know where. Look, now you know, what you are supposed to get. It’s between 40-42 rupees. Here, I was trying to save you some money on the fee.”

The advice was helpful and proved to be correct later on. As I walked up and down Terminal 4 pit, Indians from Mumbai or Delhi asked me if I was going to India or how to use international phone cards. An Indian man offered me his driver to where I needed to go when I landed. At the Lacome station, I got a free hand and face massage. Moisturized and relaxed I was ready for the 12 hour flight towards Delhi according to the masseuse.

Pre-Intro: Are you leaving?? No, I'm not

I missed my plane flight out of SLC to JFK to India. The month leading up to this trip was packed full of everything but lunches. I wrapped up 5 years of undergraduate work, 3 years of cancer research, sent lab equipment and, more importantly, data, to Toronto, squished in medical school paperwork, emergency root canal, and India pre-departure tasks up until my pseudo last night in SLC. So when I realized my plane had taken off without me, I felt stunned, then calm and strangely anti-climatic.

I really needed to miss that plane flight, though. If I was coming to India for two months, I couldn’t leave my brain in Utah. I needed to be mentally prepared to leave, be focused, to learn and to work in India if I was going get the best of this tremendous experience. The day I was supposed to be sleeping on Air India was the best day I spent in SLC in two months.