Significant Changes and Important Information

This month we’ve decided to leave aside the story of our adventures in health to update you on some significant changes taking place in Dayasagar Health Services.  In the following paragraphs you will find information about  1) a Crucial Merger,  2) Decentralization of our Ambulances,  3) Expansion of Community Based Care ,  4) Relocation of Our Base of Operations and 5) our upcoming plans to visit America.

The Motorcycle Diary or The Gospel of T

            Westerners travelling or living in India tend to avoid the glances of other foreigners.  We’ve labelled this “Get out of My Fantasy Syndrome”, or GMFS for short.  Someone who believes that they are on a grand adventure to the far flung corners of the globe doesn’t like to see, purely for example’s sake, a white family holding hands (with a baby in a sling) sauntering down their Silk Route.  So we’ve made it a point to lock eyes with all tourists and flash them a big smile.  Their physical response reveals a lot about their character... in particular if they’re suffering from GMFS or not.  Last month, a grey headed Caucasian man was sitting on the edge of Bidhan Bazaar next to a tin trunk and several jholas full of supplies, I figured he must be a “local” foreigner.  He lifted his head and met me with a blank stare.  I smiled and slowly a smile crept across his face.  Rounding off the encounter with a head nod, I was getting on my way when suddenly he said,  “Where... you... from?”

            “Would you like to know what country I’m from or where I live?”

            “Yes... Where you from.”

`           “Well then, I’m from America but live a couple hours outside Kalimpong.”

            “America.  I American too!”

            It was a surprising to hear considering his broken and awkward sounding English.

            “Kalimpong.  You live in Kalimpong.  Here look.”

            He dug around in his bag and pulled out a stack of photos.  The next thing I knew there was a picture in my hands of a young Nepali girl with her breasts exposed and a large tumour on her side.  He said with an honest smile on his face, “This girl is from Kalimpong.  That’s where you live.”

Moonlit Journey

I’m no stranger to feeling my way forward in the dark. Spending five years in an un-electrified village (with a chronic shortage of candles and kerosene), living out the years since with daily power cuts, having only weak Indian batteries in my flashlight and frequenting outhouses at midnight (due to multiple mugs of chai) have provided me with ample practice in the aforementioned art. Despite having this niche expertise, it is still uncomfortable to find one’s self driving along precipitous Himalayan roads at three in the morning with the headlights... off. The discomfort approaches alarm when it is compounded by the fact that there is a man bleeding to death in your back seat. Driving slow would mean to risk his death. Driving fast would be to risk everyone’s. In such a situation, one can’t help but ask themselves once again, “How did I get here?”