Indian Antics V

It’s another quiet, innocent morning here in Malkangiri. But even here we’ve been rocked by the attack on Parliament in Delhi by Kashmiri terrorists. The five terrorists killed seven police and security guards, injuring more than twenty others. The effect nationally has been enormous and the news quickly reached even the remote parts of India such as Malkangiri within a day. Many are making comparisons with the S11 attacks in New York, and yet again retaliation and retribution are the words on everyone's lips. Little is known about the militants responsible but it is Pakistanis who are attracting the most blame at present.

Dramatis personae
Today we'll experience some of the Christmas spirit in rural India, visiting villages with names like Jamgubr, Chitapari, Batriata, Podia, Missiguda and Mundiguda. Here we'll take part in their Christmas programs, learn a Koya dance or two, and even can sleep a night curled up beside the fire looking up at the stars. But first it may be helpful to give brief dramatis personae:
· Dr Iris Paul: Indian doctor who has worked here for over thirty years.
· Remo: Dr Iris' oldest son, a 27yo in the Reaching Hand Society administration.
· David P: Dr Iris' next son (adopted), a 17yo just returned from boarding school in Madras.
· Mary: Dr Iris' adopted daughter, a 15yo just returned from boarding school.
· Volunteers: Matt (NZ doctor); Gerdein (Dutch nurse); Sami (USA biologist); Dave (Aus accountant); Charlotte (NZ medical student); Rebecca (NZ medical student).
· RHS Staff (male): Sapan (driver); Antony (engineer); Laban (manager); Probakar; Rameesh
· RHS Staff (female): Joti; Sabita; Shanthi (Sapan's wife)
· Children: Emmanuel (1yo); Ruth (4yo); Esther (6yo); David (2yo); 'Pinky' (7yo).

Recent News
Today, like last week, I went along to Sabita's church with the other volunteers. As you would expect it was a Christmas service, and we shared some Christmas carols with the congregation. The guest speaker did his best to help us follow what he was saying. Afterwards all us volunteers enjoyed a cool drink and bikkies with Sabita next door. In the afternoon we had the big Malkangiri Christmas program, so we hastily practised up an Oriya song to sing. It was set up at the front of the half-built hospital with a sound system, colourful backdrop and even a makeshift curtain! After greeting the special guests the program began. First up was some Oriya singing, followed by a talk about Christmas. Us volunteers then sung a few songs in Oriya and in English. Then it was the children's turn to shine, and they put on a great performance of a drama based on the Book of Life, showing various people living good lives then getting turned away at the gate of heaven. Only the poor beggar avoided being carried off over Satan's shoulder, he got the royal treatment of a choir of angels instead.

Christmas Programs
Last Sunday afternoon I set off with Dave, Sapan and Dr Iris to Chitapari village for the first of many Christmas programs. After driving the rough dirt roads for about two hours we arrived at Chitapari and found the local RHS staff set up and entertaining the children. A simple but colourful cloth canopy was set up outside one of the local Christian’s houses. His 'front yard' was packed hard with dry cow dung, a process that must be repeated every three days to prevent cracking up. The results is much like a hard dry cricket pitch - though the key wouldn't find its way in too easily. Under the canopy some woven grass mats placed on the hard packed ground and about thirty children were sitting together on the mats. Behind them a group of about fifty adults mingled, watching the proceedings. From around the corner of the house the smell of goat curry and dahl drifted, as they were cooked over small open fires for a meal later in the night. Adjacent to the house a small banana plantation stood, all the trees quite young and not yet bearing fruit. Rameesh, a young RHS literacy worker was teaching the children a song in Oriya. Since the children are illiterate they learnt the song by repetition. After taking a walk and returning an hour later, I was amazed to hear them still enthusiastically repeating the same song, slowly getting the hang of it.

As the night descended the crowd grew. The small petrol generator was now pumping away, providing power for the two fluorescent lights and the simple microphone system. I realised that without electricity the villagers only business in the night was to sleep. Revving the kids up further the RHS staff led them on a march through he village, singing, dancing and beating away on a bongo drum. If anyone hadn’t known there was a Christmas program on, they certainly did now. By the time we got back to the canopy the crowd had swelled to over 150, about 75% of the village's population. The evening started with some formalities. Dr Iris, Dave and I were all greeting with a garland of flowers around our necks. I had read that when receiving a flower garland it is appropriate to humbly remove in from your neck and hold it close by. This routine of greeting the guests with flowers was to be repeated at every festival I attended. Though I felt a bit uncomfortable receiving all this undeserved attention I gradually appreciated the cultural reasons and felt quite honoured. The program continued with singing and bible readings. After a few words from one of the RHS evangelists it was time to bring on the food.

It took little time for the villagers to arrange themselves in rows ready to eat. Sitting cross-legged on the cow dung ground the steaming rice was brought around on washed banana leaves. The dahl and goat curry was then distributed and we eagerly dipped in. I frequently saw the children running back to their houses carrying food to share with the rest of their family. In all the tribal communities everything is evenly shared and there is no such thing as a personal gift. This attitude of servanthood is in direct contrast to the Hindu villages and towns where the policy is simply to serve yourself, and results in pushing and shoving rather than patient waiting. As I watched the children eat I saw many of them making very slow progress. Dr Iris explained that with a diet of one rice meal a day, this was luxury for them and they wanted to savour every mouthful. Many of the children had swollen tummies from protein and energy malnutrition and my heart went out to them. Here is a people who work so hard slaving away on the land and yet are unable to adequately meet their families’ most basic need - food. The food was finally packed away and the entire village gathered around the TV we'd brought in. The plan was to show a video on Jesus, but unfortunately the VCR refused to work despite our best efforts. In the end we left the village, driving in to the night with the sound of singing and dancing in the air.

Clinic and more Christmas
Monday brought with it a busy morning in the clinic and I was happy to set out again in the afternoon for the second Christmas program. This time about 16 RHS staff and volunteers piled into the medical van (no, the van is not big - we were just very squashed) with a couple of motorbikes leading the way. After two hours we reached Jamgubr, a Koya village in which Sameesh has relatives. Here a children's literacy program has recently started, and during the evening program the first group of students proudly received stainless steel cups in recognition of their work. Here in Jamgubr the set up was very simple just a few mats on the open ground and the generator powering the fluorescent bulbs and old tape recorder. As the RHS workers set up, the tape recorder blared out some Christian songs in Oriya and a few villagers energetically danced around. After songs from RHS staff and us volunteers, the staff presented an interpretation of the Prodigal Son story. The villagers watched in fascination and amusement as the son took his father’s money had hit the town with some newfound friends. They watched him waste away his money on drink and finally be deserted by his own friends. They sat enthralled as the son then pleaded with some pig farmers who finally consented to letting him look after the pigs (portrayed wonderfully by some local boys), before finally coming to his senses and returning home to his father and angry brother. The drama concluded with a song, and a few of the tribal men (including one hilarious old blind man) joined in the dancing.

After handing out some nibbles to the patient and very grateful crowd the villagers gave us a show of their own. Dancing with their arms draped over each other’s shoulders they villagers sung and moved together in a tight writhing circle. Pulling Probakar and Dave into the throng we joined in the dance and soon found ourselves in the middle of the chanting mass. After half an hour the villagers were ready for another dance, and the young adults quickly assembled. Standing in a long chain they all linked hands with the person two in front of them and two behind them. Here in the tribal villages the unwed men and women treat each other as siblings since any marriage will be with someone from another tribe. Because of this there is not the distinct male/female separation as in all Hindu societies. I watched with interested as the leader of the 'snake' began swaying to the music. The entire chain followed in perfect step, keeping time with a loud captivating chant. Slowly the snake began moving, each member gradually increasing the length of their step. The snake lunged in as every left foot came down and the strides continued to lengthen. Just when it seemed they could not go any faster the leader turned sharply and the chain curled quickly into a coil. Still maintaining the steady rhythm the chain moved backwards straightening the coil and they were ready to start again. After watching for a few minutes I couldn't stop myself from joining in. Latching on to the end of the chain I quickly fell into step. As I lunged in and stepped out I felt the enormous power as our steps turned into strides, and our strides into bounds. Caught up totally in the momentum I followed the movements like in a trance. I finally unlatched myself, and with shaky, adrenalin pumped legs, a heaving chest and a stupid big grin on my face I faced the congratulation and laughter of the watching villagers and RHS staff.

It was close to midnight by the time we’d packed and were ready to head home. The van however, had other ideas. Despite Sapan's best efforts the lights refused to work, and since the dirt tracks of Orissa have no streetlights we decided to settle down in Jamgubr for the night. Fortunately someone had brought food and we all sat around the fire to eat. The rice had been individually packed in tight banana leaf packages and had held its heat well. Sharing around the dahl and chicken curry we ate and watched the fire's dancing flames. As the staff and volunteers headed off to empty huts and the medical van, I settled down with some of the RHS guys on mats beside the fire. Looking up at the stars I soon drifted off to sleep. Unfortunately Monday night turned out to be one of the coldest yet, and though my body and legs were cosy, my sandal-clad feet were soon freezing. I spent the rest of the night manoeuvring my feet close to the fire and drifting in and out of sleep.

Village mornings
Awaking at 5am, with the first rays of light, I took a bit of a stroll around the village, and used their 'bathroom facilities'. Already there were villagers carting wood and tending to their animals. One man opened a wooden animal shelter and I smiled as I saw two grey hairy wild boar step out with their boarlets looking just like in the Asterix books I'm such a fan of. By 6am we had set off back to Malkangiri. Fortunately the Tuesday clinic was not as busy as it usually is so I wasn't too rushed getting down there to start. It turned out to be quite a relaxing day and I enjoyed a stroll through the expansive and colourful marketplace before returning home to catch up on some sleep.

Clinic
The clinic on Wednesday was interesting but not too busy. After three cases of malaria, including one pregnant woman, and a boy with a broken clavicle the day seemed almost over. However, the first man with malaria had rapidly deteriorated, had a temperature of 39.5C and his blood pressure was dropping rapidly. Quickly setting up a makeshift drip, we pumped in a litre of saline and glucose solution. By early afternoon he had improved greatly and was ready to go home. Closing the clinic it was time for us to set out for another Christmas program, this time at Batriata, some three hours away. A combined Koya and Kondoha village, the program was much like the previous ones I'd witnessed. This time the canopy was set up in the middle of a huge bare field and about 100 people were assembled. The music, drama and dancing all went down a treat and after eating some nibbles the people drifted away. Sitting around the fire we ate our rice, dahl and curry before heading back for the long drive to Malkangiri.

On Thursday morning we set out for the clinic a Kalimela. Unfortunately we saw only two patients before the electricity was cut off. Since this meant the X-ray and ultrasound facilities were made redundant we decided it was not worth staying around. Driving a further hour we arrived at Podia where a daytime Christmas service was taking place. It was a very big affair with many Indian Missionary Society (IMS) and district church leaders in attendance. The drama of Jesus' birth was presented beautifully with angels, choirs and a real live baby Jesus (albeit a female one). After eating we spent some time with the local RHS evangelists. Sitting in one room of their two-room house we shared tea, bikkies and some songs with them while Sapan refuelled the van. Arriving back in Malkangiri at around 7:30pm, it didn't take long before I was in bed and asleep.

The RHS family
Friday began with prayer until 11am, which was followed by a few hours to catch up on washing and cleaning. David and Mary, Dr Iris' two adopted children, had returned from boarding school down in Madras early Friday morning. But it was not until they woke in the afternoon that I was able to meet them. Dressed in western-style clothes, they were more comfortable speaking English than anything else. They had both come from tiny tribal villages but they had obviously fully integrated into the western life of the big city. In the late afternoon we set out once again to a Christmas program, this time at Missiguda. The RHS staff had already fully set up and the program was soon underway with music, food and finally the Jesus video (which worked correctly this time).

On Saturday we saw only a few patients in the morning. The Balimela clinic had been cancelled since we were going to Mundiguda in the afternoon. Leaving soon after lunch we visited Tula first. She is continuing to show physical improvement, though her bilirubin and nitrites levels had risen slightly. Leaving her with fruit and medicine we returned to the van, knowing that we wouldn't be back again for around three weeks. Continuing on to Mundiguda the Christmas program was quickly underway. Set up in the middle of a paddock the 140 odd people were Hindus from the town, and there were no tribals. The differences were immediately apparent. During the singing and the drama put on by RHS staff and many of their students the crowd was polite and encouraging. But as soon as a few of the younger students started reciting bible verses the crowd became very inconsiderate. When the program finally ended snacks were handed out. Unlike the patient tribals the people here crowded in like they were starving refugees after UN food packages. The work here in Mudiguda has received much opposition, but still the literacy and evangelist work continues.

Today I'll be going to a Christmas service in the men's prison here in Malkangiri then attending another program at the local mission school. Tomorrow is of course Christmas so they'll be more programs to attend. Then on Wednesday (Boxing Day) I'm off to Bangalore with Remo and Dave for a Christian Students' Conference for a week. The Reaching Hand Society will have a small stall set up there to attract young students out to Malkangiri. As I won't be taking part in the conference I'll probably get to look around the city a bit and maybe even make it out to the nearby National Park.Best wishes to you all for Christmas and I hope the New Year in fantastic, leaving you with lots of great memories. Thanks for the prayer and the emails, and farewell for 2001!

Indian Antics IV

Hello again! Another week is over but the weather has not changed a bit - dry, hot and so very dusty! Weathermen have it so easy here - They probably only write four weather reports, one for each season. Today I’ll take you out to a few more villages and introduce you to a few of the volunteers working here. You'll also feel the exhilaration of an early morning jog, and feel the sweat dripping down your neck as we trek up into the Malkangiri ranges. Thank you all for your support, and I encourage you to keep in touch with news and more questions.

Recent News
Sitting here in the coolness of a Sunday morning I can hear the sound of the water bore, methodically pumping up and down, as the locals begin work for the day. I was up at 6:00am this morning, and set out for a jog in the grey of the dawn. I headed east, out of town, running towards distant mountains, silhouetted by the glow of the rising sun. As my feet beat the uneven dirt road I marvelled at the sights I was passing. Looking out to the left (north) were the closest ranges to Malkangiri, rising sharply about 200m away. Between them and the road were the clusters of fields that surrounds Malkangiri town. These fields, now fully harvested, have two-foot mounds separating them. These allow the farmers to walk throughout the crops, even during the monsoon floods. Squatting at the edge of these fields, beside the road, the locals use the 'public toilet'. Carrying their full 'pani lota' (water jugs) from their houses, they comfortably squat, tucking their pijama korto up, and proceed with their morning chores.

Also along the road, men and boys (as young as 10yo) speed walk, laden with coal and wood. Their heavy loads are carried with apparent ease on a bamboo pole, weighing down on their shoulder and flexes with every step. Women too are out early, walking into town with baskets, full to the brim, balanced precariously on their heads. Reaching my destination, I see the early morning light dancing on the ripples of one of Orissa's largest dams. The sun has not yet popped its head over the mountains, but soon will be glaring down through the Indian haze. Turning, to make my way back into town, I'm passed by a passenger bus. Decorated colourfully with tinsel and streamers, it passes in a cloud of dust, passengers peering out the glassless windows. I love my morning run here and know that when I'm back, doing my morning runs in Australia, the sounds, smells and sights will all come flooding back.

The week gone
This last week has been eventful but, for once, there were no unwanted surprises (like police visits or malaria). Sunday morning I went along to a small house church and shared some songs with the young minister there. One of the RHS staff, Sabita, goes there and together with Matt, I went to her house just next door for a drink and a couple of bananas after the service. Sabita lives with her parents who are both Hindu. Her house is mud brick, with three small rooms, all with cow-dung floors. Since there is obviously no dining room, we sat in her neat but cluttered room chewing away on some small, but 100% organic, bananas. Sunday afternoon was free, so together with some of the other volunteers, I walked out across the fields to the bottom of the closest mountain range. I saw no bears or tigers, but did see one evil looking hyena, sizing me up with its beady eyes. It soon retreated when I got closer though. Climbing up on a huge grey rock (much like the one in the Lion King) we hang our legs off the edge and watched the sun sink below the dusty horizon. The dry land stretched in front of us, Malkangiri blending perfectly into the surrounding fields. It's not what I imagined India to be like, but I liked it. I really liked it!

Monday morning I met some new Interserve volunteers; David, an accountant from Sydney, and Charlotte and Rebecca, 5th year meddies from NZ. As it turned out David lives just near my father's parents, and after chatting for a while I found out we have some mutual friends up in Sydney - what a small world! The clinic was unusually busy for a Monday and there were a few memorable cases. One man presented with a psychiatric illness after being badly electrocuted a year ago. He has daily turns of violence and abuse along with splitting headaches. It is always sad to see psych patients come through, because, though we can give them some medication, the support structures for them and their families are not in place. We also had another leprosy case, a woman in her later thirties. The extent of the disease indicated she had been infected for ten years, but it was only this last year that she'd received medication supplied by the government. Government policy here is to treat for one year only, after which they will still have leprosy but won't be infectious. Dr Iris has found that five years treatment with good skin care will result in complete resolution and a negative result on a smear. Some of the local skin care treatment includes tumeric, which has antiseptic properties, and til oil, which helps in healing. It is common to see women here looking very yellow and jaundiced because of the tumeric they've rubbed on their skin.

Tuesday, market day, brought in the typical 25 odd patients and kept us busy until evening. With the medical van parked alongside the clinic we have access to ultrasound and X-ray equipment. It was given to RHS as an award from World Vision International and has been invaluable in the medical work. Having learnt to set up both the X-ray and the ultrasound, I quickly learnt how to take and develop the X-rays manually (a skill I would never use in any developed country). Very pleased with my first X-ray I found it easy to identify the TB changes in the apex of both lungs. Over the next few days I got more practise taking and developing X-rays, and loved holding the finished product up to the light seeing how I'd done. One patient of note is a 20yo girl called Padma. She has severe oedema all over her body and a grossly enlarged heart and liver. The best and most appropriate drugs for heart failure are not available her but we do our best with what we've got. She is lucky to be alive and it will be a miracle if even a bit of normality can be restored to her life (see prayer points).

Wednesday morning was another busy couple of hours at the clinic. After finishing up there, we set out to visit Tula in med-afternoon. By the time we trekked to her village, it was already growing dark. With her family gathering around, we were astonished to find that her oedema had improved so much (see prayer points). Leaving her with some fresh fruit and bikkies, we took the now dark track back to the medical van. I loved these evening drives back to Malkangiri, and sat with the window open wide watching the stars, the trees and the fireflies flash past the van. Inevitably I'd doze off and sleep until finally pulling up back here at the house.

Kalimela
On Thursday we set out to the clinic at Kalimela. During a break in the busy day I wandered into town to have a look around the market. People were crowded everywhere and the sellers had their wares spread out lining the road on either side. There was jewellery, copperware, stainless steel cooking pots, foods, clothing, rugs and even a roadside dentist! Yes you heard me correctly. Grinning up at me the old man sat with two trays of dirty teeth before him. A woman, his latest victim, I mean patient, sat beside him clutching her jaw. A poster in front of his stall promoted oral health, but this was the only similarity I could draw to any dentist I've ever been to. Moving on, I walked into the fruit and vegie section. The colours and smells were amazing, and I picked out some to take home. On the way back to the clinic I saw a cow pinch an eggplant. The sellers jumped up and chased it away with sticks and shouting. Mmm, what a way to treat a god!?!

Fair and Lovely
Friday was also quite a busy day at the clinic. We saw malaria, glandular TB, infections, another psych patient and a guy with abdominal pain. The latter case was interesting because of his left arm. He had obviously had a full break halfway up his humerus but had never had it reset. As a result it had healed very crooked with a big bony callous. These people are so tough! I also came across another skin treatment called 'Fair and Lovely’. Used by some women, it burns off the top layer of skin, leaving a lighter complexion. Unfortunately it also destroys the skin, leaving patchy pigmentation. Strange how everyone all over the world wants to look just that little bit different.

Out and About
I took most of Saturday off, in need of a bit of R&R. In the morning I headed up into the nearby ranges with Dave and a 15yo girl, Bibi, from over the road. Arriving at the foot of the mountains we set out to a relatively small peak. Bibi was already urging us to turn back, telling us about tigers and bears up there. We'd been warned often about walking at dawn and dusk, but in the midday heat felt pretty confident we'd be safe. Pushing up the steep slope we clambered over huge grey boulders and pushed through the dry undergrowth. Leaving Bibi with our packs partway up (she couldn't go any further) we made it to the rocky outcrop at the peak. From here, with a fifteen-metre drop on three sides, we could see for miles. To the north we had the range continuing east west. Looking back over the paddocks to the east we could see Malkangiri, then distant ranges further away. The temperature was over thirty and the trek up the mountain had soaked me with sweat. But to see this view it was definately worth every drop. The trek back down was done in about a quarter of the time, Bibi having found a hidden reserve of energy for getting home for lunch. She carefully guided us back to the village, steering us away from any female bathing areas or 'public toilets'. Splashing cold water over myself back at the house I settled down for a long afternoon nap.

Later today I'll be heading out to a village to take part in the first of about fifteen Christmas programs to be run by RHS in different villages. It promises to be an exciting night, with lots of music and yummy food. I can't believe Christmas is already so close. In no time at all I'll be on my way back to Australia - time really has flown. Thankyou again for your support and prayers. I'll leave you again with more prayer requests, and hope your plans for the festive season are going well.

Indian Antics III

Greetings friends! With another week in Malkangiri drawing to a close it's been a busy and very eventful week. Today I'll be sharing with you the misery of malaria as well as the joy of village work. I thank those of you who have been encouraging me and keeping me up to date with news at home. Feel free to email, I'll always reply, even if briefly. If you prefer snail mail, my address is at the end of this letter.

Recent News
I'm amazed at the amount of wildlife in this house. Last night I cleared a shrew nest out of my pack. The only attractive characteristic of these dirty rat-like creatures is their cute like 'squeak' as they run around. This morning, I got up and chased two mangy cats out of the storage room, where they’d taken up accommodation in a pile of blankets. Then, as I walked towards the office with a steaming cup of Milo, across my path hopped a big fat toad. It slowly made its way into the room where Remo has one of his three fish tanks. As I sit at the computer now, I look up and see a pale yellow tail protruding from under the fluorescent light. It's a gecko, and these harmless yellow lizards are to be found throughout the house. Now you’ve toured the zoo in which I live, let me take you through the events of my week.

Church experiences
Last Sunday I attended a church service just down the road here in Malkangiri. A few of the RHS staff attend there also. It was due to start at 10:30 but due to 'Indian Time' it started at about 11:15. I was amazed at how many people they can fit into one room. The church was about 5 by 10 metres. At the back I sat on benches together with the other men. In front of us, on the floor all the women and children sat cross-legged. I counted over 130 people in the room during the service. That's over two per square metre!! It was quite a boring service, since I couldn't understand a thing, but we did get to sing a song in English.

Orissa far-south
Dr Iris had to do some government survey work on polio vaccination on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, so the medical team wouldn't be doing much work. However, on Monday I accompanied Iris down to Motu, at the southern tip of Orissa state. Justin, a NZ freelance photographer for World Vision, also came along, bringing his camera (or 'teloscope' as Iris called it). Along the way the police presence was very high. This is due to terrorist activity by a group called the Naxolites. A mixed ethnic group, they live in the hill country and are distinguished by their black and green camouflage gear. They have communist beliefs and by using spies in villages have been targeting police outposts. We passed one police headquarters that had been recently bombed, fortunately no one was killed. Walking to the very tip of Orissa we could watch the sun set in the west. Here at the border of Orissa, Madhya Pradesh and Andhra Pradesh the Sileru and Sabari rivers converge. With darkness falling we started the six-hour drive back to Malkangiri.

Clinic
Tuesday, Malkangiri market day, is always the big day at the clinic. But since Iris had more polio survey work to do we had to do it all in the morning. After a late lunch I came back for an afternoon nap. I woke with a fever and my body was aching all over. It proceeded to get worse and worse, I'd be freezing for an hour, then boiling hot. Yes, this was malaria! For the next two days I struggled with the roaring fever and constant aches. Finally by Thursday afternoon it was settling down. If this is what malaria is like with the prophylaxis, what would it be like without it?

Thursday afternoon I took a short walk west of the town. Looking out across some paddocks, a chain of mountains rose sharply. They were covered in an array of green vegetation, grey boulders jutting out at intervals. I determined to climb them sometime in the next month. Going to bed early, to be ready for an early Friday start, I slept well until about midnight when I was awoken by a commotion outside my window. Stumbling out of bed I found a small wooden hut, used as a shrine, as in flames about fifteen metres from the house. It was soon extinguished and I trotted back to bed. The sound of voices faded as people left the excitement.

Village visits
By Friday I was fit to be back getting into things. We set off at soon after 6:00am. Our first stop was to visit Tula, the 13yo with the grossly distended abdomen. After completing the fifteen-minute trek from the road to her village, her family informed us that her uncle had taken her to his village to see another doctor. Setting out on foot we trudged for about twenty more minutes along the dirt track, until we found Tula with some of her extended family. Greeting us with her big smile, she was still in very good spirits. Thankfully her oedema in her legs had subsided and her weight had decreased a little. Leaving her with medication and some fresh fruit we set out on the track back to the medical van. It was so peaceful walking through the green forests, passing clumps of mud-brick houses off to the edge of the track. Yet in this tranquillity, the tribespeople work extremely hard, physical labour tending to the fields and the livestock. With no social security, their very close family ties means the family supports the elders in their old age.

Leaving the villages of Tula and her family we continued through the land of the Koya tribespeople. Before long another mountain range rose up in the east. It is behind these that the Bondo tribespeople live. They are the most primitive people group in India, and also have the reputation as a violent, murderous crowd. We stopped at Mundiguda, the town where the Bondos come to barter their goods at the Sunday market. I’ve been told that after a particular trip to the market, the Bondos realized they were being severely ripped off by certain sellers. The next Sunday a large group of their young men arrived at the market dressed in battle gear, their large bows and poison-tipped arrows pointed menacingly. Needless to say, they never got ripped off like that again.

Here in Mundiguda the Reaching Hand Society has one of its largest centres. From here they run education and literacy programs as well as venture into the small villages doing evangelistic work. There is also land here for the building of the bible college. Purchased in 1989, Dr Iris still has faith that one day God will provide the people and the finance to begin the work. It is in that manner that she waited patiently for twenty years to begin the work of building the hospital in Malkangiri. Now it is well on its way but needs the medical staff present before it can open. Stopping once at Govindapali for a nice omelette we arrived back in Malkangiri in the late afternoon.

Balimela clinic
Yesterday, Saturday, I accompanied Dr Iris to the Saturday clinic at Balimela. Seeing only six patients all day, this clinic may not continue for much longer. It is a difficult situation since populations are spread out so much and it is difficult to know where the places of most need really are. Watching the children playing in the dirt playground I was introduced to a game called "Seven Days". There are two teams. To start the game seven flat rocks are piled up. One team then pelts a ball at them to knock them all over. That team must then restack the rocks before the other team can tag them with the ball. It was a typically high-energy game and I just about got tired just watching it.

We returned to Malkangiri via Mundiguda bumping along the dirt road in the early night. Lying down and looking out the window of the medical van I marvelled at the stars in the clear black sky. Also, in the trees, were mini-stars - fireflies. I could see their bright glow as the trees whooshed past the van. Just as I was thinking how I’d like to see one close-up, a 'star' shot straight in through the open window. Landing on my pillow it sat, its light steadily pulsating. After watching it for a while I turned on the light to see it properly. A very ordinary bug when seen in the light, it is truly remarkable in the darkness. The bright fluorescent yellow-green light, radiating from under its wings, lit up an amazing amount of its environment on each pulsation. I couldn't help but relate it to Christians, called to reflect the light of God. Although we look very ordinary on the outside, it is the light within us that makes something special.
Today I've got a pretty relaxing day planned. The church service begins at 9:30am today (which probably means 10:15), and then I'll have a free afternoon. Maybe I’ll go walking up into the hills, or maybe I'll go and mingle with the kids in the neighbourhood. Of one thing I'm sure, I'll need to be well rested before diving into a new week in Malkangiri. Here is my address again below, during my time with malaria I realised how precious news is from loved ones at home - hint, hint (-;

Indian Antics II - "Arrested"

Greetings! I've now been here in Malkangiri for over a week. The week has been packed full of visits to villages and surrounding towns as well as work at the clinic here in Malkangiri. Today I'll introduce you to some more patients, share the culture as I am experiencing it and leave you with some more prayer points. But first I'll give you my postal address here, not because I expect letters but just to help you put me on the map better.

Hamish Graham
c/o Dr Paul
Reaching Hand Society
Malkangiri P.O.
Malkangiri (Dist)
Orissa - 764045
INDIA Ph:06861-30231

Recent News
Sitting here, in the quiet and peace of a Sunday morning I can't help contrasting it to the last two days. Friday was a national holiday, celebrating the birthday of a Sikh religious leader, Guru Nanak. It was also the start of a local Hindu festival, in which unwed women pray for a husband (though I think it was just another excuse for a party). The house where I am staying is right next to the town square. Each morning at about 6:00am a troupe of singers and musicians march past, yelling and banging on their drums as loud as possible. On Friday, since it was the start of a special festival, they started at about 4:00am. Not only this, but it was broadcast by big screeching speakers set up around the square. Two shrines had been set up in the square. The traditional Hindu shrine picked a couple of the 33 million Hindu gods to worship. Children and adults danced around the shrine, chanting loudly. Opposite this there was a shrine put up by the reformed Hindu group, which sees all of the 33 million gods as equal so doesn’t focus on any specifically. Here, there were two women chanting, with a group of other women and children seated around echoing the chant. In and around these shrines throngs of Indians walked, watched and joined in with the festivities. The result was a raucous noise as the drums, out of tune piano accordion thingy and voices all combined as one. [I must admit that I do not have any appreciation for the 'music' during the festival.] Starting at 4:00am on Friday, the festivities continued non-stop right through Friday day and night, finally stopping at about 9:00pm on Saturday (the singers and dancers working as a tag-team). And though the music did nothing for me, I really liked colourful set-up they had, especially at night when the lanterns lit it up.

Santali Village
This last week has been really eventful, so I'll start at the beginning and work through slowly. Last Sunday, I accompanied the rest of the Reaching Hand Society team to a village about an hour's drive away. This is the Santali village where Dr Iris and her husband first started their work, and today they had a special Harvest festival church service. The local Christians all brought money and produce to give to the church. The produce, assembled at the back of the simple cement and brick chapel, included bags of rice, green vegetables, hand woven bags and even a chicken. After the service, they were sold to the Christians in attendance so the money could be used by the church.

It was also a special day because two women were getting baptised. Here in Malkangiri this is a very big commitment. By officially rejecting Hinduism, converts lose all their government allowances, including the right for free schooling at a government school and the right to register a piece of land (this means they can be kicked out of their house at any time). It also makes them the target of local persecution, by other villagers and by the Hindu authorities. Yet, despite this, the Christians are generally cleaner, healthier and even wealthier than most of their counterparts. Reasons for this include the rejection of expensive and destructive habits (e.g. chewing tobacco, alcohol) and the development of constructive habits (e.g. saving money, improving personal hygiene and sanitation). Many of these changes come from a change in mind-set. They begin to understand that they are valuable and that they do have power to change for the future (undermining the Hindu assumptions regarding karma and castes).
When the church service had finished we all joined in a traditional meal. Seated cross-legged on the floor, a washed banana leaf was placed in front of us. Onto this was placed a heap of rice and then an assortment of curries. Mixing it around using my hand I used four fingers like a scoop bringing it up to my mouth. I learnt later to use my thumb to push the food from my fingers into my mouth. It was a wonderful meal I we headed back to Malkangiri with full stomachs.

Clinic
Monday was my first day at the clinic. The clinic consists of three small rooms, used as a lab, consulting room and examination room. The whole clinic is only about the size of two normal consulting rooms. Patients wait outside, up to twenty at a time. After Iris takes their history Matthew or I do a physical examination (unless it is a woman, then Iris does this also). Treatment is limited, but many miracles have been seen. Opposite the clinic the Reaching Hand Society is building a hospital. It will hopefully have about 12 beds, including a maternity suite, with the capacity for expansion. Unfortunately, funding is becoming increasingly difficult to find, and almost all RHS programs have stopped, except for the medical work.

Monday was quiet, about ten patients, but the work was interesting: malaria, infected wounds, tooth infection and pneumonia to name a few. Tuesday, which is Malkangiri market day, is always much busier. We saw about 25 patients, most of who came in from the surrounding villages. Patients presented with TB, malaria, pneumonia, kidney disease, typhoid, veneral diseases and even one man with leprosy (standing at 175cm but weighing only 35kg). Also, Lakshmir (the baby with the huge infected wound) returned for a check up. She was looking very good; the wound is continuing to heal miraculously. And, although they refused to wear gloves, her parents seem to be dressing the wound well enough.

The infamous photo
We were able to finish at the clinic late afternoon and I headed home for a quick snooze. We were due to run a program for local and surrounding tribal kids at about 6:00pm. I left the house early for the 15-minute walk to the clinic where the kids program would be held. I dawdled through the town, snapping a few pictures of people and scenes. Passing a field I remember Dad asking me to get photos of the local agriculture. In the late afternoon light there was a lovely view over a few paddocks with the mountains in the distance. No sooner had I taken the photo before an angry Indian on a motorbike confronted me. After yelling at me for some time I finally understood something about reporting me to the police. I said OK and he took off on his motorbike. I continued walking and after five minutes had all but forgotten the incident. A group of six kids joined me and I had the opportunity to practise some Oriya. "Tomoro nam kso?", I asked one child his name. He replied with an unpronounceable name - but at least he understood me! As we continued toward the clinic I saw the police jeep coming down the road, with the angry Indian on the motorbike pointing enthusiastically at me. I went and met them, the kids still at my heels. After being told that I had to come to the station for questioning I hopped into the jeep and we headed off. At the station I was delivered to the head honcho who started asking me about the photos I had taken. Finding his Indian English very difficult to understand I managed finally made some sense of it. The angry Indian had reported me for taking a photo of a woman "answering call of nature". Meanwhile, the kids who were following me, ran on to the clinic and breathlessly reported to Iris that the doctor had been taken by the police. She and Remo promptly headed for the police station. Having understood the complaint, I was now told that I had to hand over the film, I said that I would wait for Remo to come. He seemed happy with that, so I decided to stick my neck out and ask if I could take a photo of him. He obliged, so now I'll have a photo of my interrogator! Remo and Iris arrived and I ended up handing the film over for them to develop. I still have not heard back from them but hopefully I’ll get my photos back without any more trouble.

Remo and Iris had both told me how closely the Christians were followed and how valuable information was to the Hindu authorities. But until this incident I thought they were exaggerating. Since Tuesday I've seen the angry Indian a number of times. Just sitting on his bike watching me or one of the others. Matthew, the doctor from NZ, must give a daily account of his movements to the authorities. And, since last month, the Reaching Hand Society must submit regular reports to them also. It seems strange from a Western perspective, but I guess Christianity is so different to the Hindu foundations that India has, it must seem very threatening.

Remote village
On Wednesday afternoon, I had my first visit to a village. We stopped at the side of a dirt road and walked along a worn track for about 15 minutes to a single house on a hill. The other village houses were nearby, but I did not see any. This village had about 20 people, though some may have over 100 residents. When a man gets married, he usually moves away to claim a piece of land, much like in the animal kingdom. This particular trip was a special one, done weekly or fortnightly, to a girl called Tula. Tula is about 15yo and presented about a month ago with a grossly distended abdomen. The swelling was so huge it compromised her breathing and an aspiration was necessary. After two aspirations it was clear that her condition, some sort of malignant cancer, was worsening. So aspiration is only done if her breathing is affected. Otherwise she survives with the help of vitamins, drugs for the oedema and prayer. Weighing only 35kg, her legs and arms are completely wasted. To begin with, Tula was very depressed and unhappy, and her parents were going to leave her to die. Now she has stabilised and has great faith that God will heal her. She now lives at home, together with her father, mother, sister and two brothers. Her other sister died about three months ago without reaching medical help. She may die at anytime, but every extra minute she lives is a blessing to all she encounters. Her peace and grace is unbelievable and really is an inspiration to all of us.

Kalimela Clinic
On Thursday we went out to the market at Kalimela to set up clinic. We had a busy day of over thirty patients presenting with complaints including: infected foot wound, venereal disease, a whole family inflicted with scabies, TB, pneumonia, lobulated kidney (as visible on ultrasound), Type II diabetes (very rare here) and glomerulonephritis. In the latter case a 12yo boy presented with oedema of the face and a grossly distended abdomen, including a palpable liver. After ruling out hepatitis and judging from the significant amount of protein in the urine, Iris began treatment for glomerulonephritis. Treatment available here is not adequate by Western standards and he will really need a miracle to recover - but I’ve already seen that miracles occur.

After a rest day on Friday, Saturday was another village clinic day, this time at Balimela. The clinic here was in a school classroom, so we had the cries of the playground to accompany us. It was a quiet day, only about ten patients but included and epileptic; a brain damaged boy (after having meningitis as a baby and also being deprived of oxygen at birth) more venereal diseases and more infected sores. We arrived home at about 9:00pm and I was glad to see the festival was closing down. Joining Iris, Remo and the other volunteers, we sat on the toilet roof eating and watching the stars before finally retiring to bed.

Closing
It remains quiet and still here, just the sound of birds chirping on the roof and kids playing in the street. I’ve enjoyed my time here so far but a family emergency in Iris' family may disrupt my plans. Her mother is very sick and has been admitted to hospital in Chennai (Madras), possibly to have her legs amputated. Iris is quite upset and is wondering about going to join her there. If she does go to be with her mother, the volunteer medical team, including myself, will not be able to continue work here (since we cannot dispense medicine or administer treatment). Things are a bit up in the air but I trust they will work out to the best.