CaseIndiaTrips 4

Layers of Learning in Global Health

Posts Tagged ‘aloo subhji’

Seizure-free blog

Posted by Peter on 13 September, 2010

“What did the pea say to the pot? Nothing, it just muttered”.
This is how Dr. Sapna Shah greats me in JFK. This trip can only get better. She has already checked in but is quite excited to show me my first Indian queue, or “line” as she so quaintly puts it. This it turns out is to be my first introduction to India. I think intense is the best word to describe this new manner of queueing that I have been introduced to. It is not unpleasant, it is not impatient or impolite. It is intense. This queue requires concentration. It most move forward the instant a space arises. There must never be a gap in the queue. The density of the queue must be maintained so that it is difficult to determine where you end and where your neighbor begins. Pushing through is allowed, usually with some vague attempt at an excuse, although not encouraged. At times the queue may become several adjacent queues but these have merged again by the end of the queue. It is a living being, a single heaving greater entity that you have sacrificed your individuality to become a part of. In Mumbai and Hyderabad airports I notice another remarkable feature of these queues: they form in an instant. Or maybe I should say they arrive. The millisecond the gate opens the queue arrives, as if it has been lurking around the corner waiting for it’s chance, it’s moment. “Don’t expect any personal space here” I hear Dr. Shah advise me. I won’t. We are Queue.

I have the great fortune to have Sapna as my travel companion. Sapna is a veteran of the Indian continent, and has been keeping a close eye on me as we go. I cannot think of a better way to come than with someone who has grown up with both Western and Indian culture. I feel spoilt. She explains Hindi to me, she points out little things that I would have missed. She is also my self appointed guardian. On the plane she warns me not to eat the tiny green chili in the salad. Ten seconds later my mouth is numb, I have tears in my eyes and there are flames coming out of my ears. The kindly Indian lady sitting next to me seems to think this is the funniest thing she has ever seen, and when she and Sapna finally stop laughing and dry their tears, she points to the chili on her plate and says “I would not even eat that chili”.

In Mumbai airport my travel companion/ cultural guru gives me a small amount of rupees to buy myself a coke. I go all out and also buy myself a bottle of water and a bar of Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut. I say thank you to the nice man and go back to my mentor, who asks the price of my purchase and asks to see the change. It turns out that my change is three times less than it should be. I am taken by the ear to see the nice man who sold me my coke. The nice man instantly realises his mistake, and after punching some random buttons on his calculator returns the rest of the change to me. That, I suspect, is the last time that I shall be allowed to make a purchase on my own.

We reach Hyderabad at 4.00am. Our poor driver and cook are there to meet us with smiles despite having been waited patiently for over 2 hours in the throng pressing against the barriers at arrivals. Communication with them is limited due to our poor Telagu but they are very welcoming and soon we are on the road. I feel the familiar but too long missed thrill of arriving in a tropical country. I feel the flame, the pilot light that always burns inside me for the developing world has been turned up. It is a kind of joy that is hard to explain, other than to say that I spend the next hour looking out the window, drinking in my surroundings. The palm trees, the reckless motorcycles, the small shops with their flickering dim fluorescent lights, the trundling dirty trucks, the oxen carts loaded with wood, the potholes and speed ramps that appear out of nowhere, the colourful saris, the yellow putt-putting auto-rickshaws and the giant full colour statues of Ganesh. I am struck by the number of packs of stray dogs on the streets, and I remember giving dry lectures about rabies and vow to take some photos. In an instant something that for me was only lecture theory has become a living reality. I hope that this will come across the next time I talk about it.

It is 6am, a time that used to be my favorite time to travel the roads in Uganda, as the day breaks and the people start to emerge into a new day. I turns out to be just as lovely a time to travel here. We arrive at the apartment. It is homely, spacious and well furnished. Kumar the cook, who has been snoozing in the front seat, springs into action and welcomes us with delicious sweet tea and coffee. We have working showers and warm water, and rest for an hour before emerging to one of the tastiest breakfasts I have ever had- puri and aloo subhji (my own original spelling). We really are spoilt. We have a day to wait for the rest of the gang, so we decide to blog…

Addendum:
Sapna arrived back from a trip to a posh country club in the evening with the alarming news that our friends had been creating and attending to their own medical emergencies on a flight. We had a minor panic in the middle of the night when we thought that they had not made their flight and I have to say it was a relief to see Amanda walking throughout the door a few hours later. She is in good form and, well, basically Amanda, and seems to have taken everything in her stride. I must say that I very much admire her for the way that she has coped with this. She has done so with her customary good humor and stoic practicality. Yet another victim of mefloquine. I don’t think I know of any other drug that I personally know so many people who have had issues with. I’m not a fan. Sapna seems to be getting on ok on it, although she was up during the night half-asleep knocking on the inside of her own bedroom door because she thought there was a pregnant lady with swine flu in the living room. There wasn’t, only a very confused looking Kumar, our non-English speaking cook, who was trying to sleep. Could be the mefloquine but It’s hard to tell, she is pretty crazy anyway…

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