Leprosy and Critters in the Night

Driving to the leprosy hospital, I was in a car that had seatbelts!
Maybe I forgot to mention this but I have so far found that seatbelts
don't really exist in India. Obviously it should come as no surprise
that when I reached back to put it on, it seemed to be rusted in
place. At least this saved me the embarrassment of being the only fool
wearing one in the car.

The two day trip also continued my streak of meeting really great,
interesting people around my age. I travelled to Manamadurai to the
Leprosy Mission Hospital with a nursing student from Chicago, Laura,
and a pre-med student from Utah, Jenna. Just the hour and a half car
trip alone was enough for me to realize that they were really relaxed
and interesting. Little did I know about the experiences we were about
to have together.

We arrived at the hospital campus, which was in a very rural area just
outside of the town Manamadurai (not to be confused with Madurai) and were taken to the guest house. It is a really
cute little place with a living room and two bedrooms and a kitchen.
We also met a fourth volunteer, Sam(antha) who was just staying for
the day before heading back to Madurai to fly home to Indiana. After a
dosa breakfast, prepared for us by the house attendant,
"William" (which I'm sure is his traditional Indian name...not), we
were taken to the hospital for a day or touring and learning about
leprosy and the treatmen for the disease.

The Leprosy Mission Hospital here in Dayapuram, Manamadurai, Tamilnadu
is over 130 years old. For the majority of its history, the hospital
was funded by the Indian government due to the need for leprosy
treatment facilities. As the disease's prevalence in the country
slowly decreased, the government withdrew funding and the hospital
opened up to general patients in the community. It now sees many out-
patients each day, and while only 10-15% of new cases seen are for
leprosy, the hospital is still well known for their specialized care
with the infection. We were given the history of the hospital and of
leprosy, shown the pharmacy, spoke to the counselor, and saw all of
the facilities. We were also introduced to about 15 patients currently
staying at the hospital being treated for leprosy and told their
stories by the nurses. Even today in a time when it is so treatable
when detected early, people still had stories of being rejected by
their families, losing their jobs, and becoming outcasts in their
communities to some extent. The Mission believes that a huge piece of
this is a lack of education about leprosy, and they regularly see the
families of patients and try to explain it to them.

We learned that a huge part of leprosy is very detailed, specific self-
care that must be instilled in the patients while they are here so
that they can go home and care for themselves. This includes daily
self examinations and extensive cleanings, as well as specific
exercises depending on where the leprosy is affecting them. For some
patients that we saw, the necessity of this self-care is not valued
above other things in their lives that require attention, whether it
be work, family, etc. As a result of this, we saw a few patients whose
various limbs had been amputated, and many with deformities and
lesions on parts of their bodies. It was fascinating and heart-
touching to get to interact with them. For some, you can tell that
just having a place where they aren't singled out by it and where they
can share common experiences and feelings and participate in group
therapy sessions has really changed their lives and made it possible
for them to see hope in the future.

One of the greatest things about the hospital is that they bill
patients on a sliding scale depending on what they can pay for, which
for many patients who have lost their jobs and still must provide for
their families, is very little. Many patients receive corrective
surgeries, hospital stays, medication, and self-care education
completely free of charge.

After our day was over, Sam headed out and the rest of us were
exploring around the campus, and were about to head back to the guest
house when one of the patients, an old woman named Mary, wandered out
to us. Mary was treated for leprosy over 40 years ago, and although
her disfigured fingers and the depression on her nose that are so
characteristic of leprosy are clear reminders of her infection, she is
more or less not in need of any medical care. Mary stays on at the
hospital as a sort of peer-counselor for other patients there and has
made the hospital and the people there her life. When she came out to
talk to us, the language barrier with her speaking no English and us
speaking no Tamil made it so that it took us a few minutes just to
understand what she wanted from us. Before we went inside, we also had
no idea who she was. We finally realized that she wanted us to follow
her back inside, and although we no longer had a nurse escort or any
idea where we were going, we walked with the tiny old woman back to
the female leper ward. When we arrived, Mary insisted on showing us
her collection of photos that she had taken with other hospital
visitors that had visited the hospital. She also showed us a poster
with a picture of her, recognizing her donation of her life savings,
about $1000, to the hospital, and detailing that she wished to be
buried on the campus and have her wedding jewelery, which is highly
prized in a sacred way by Indian women, sold and the proceeds given to
the hospital as well. By this time, Laura had gone to find the nurse
to translate for us so that we could talk with her and the other
patients on the beds surrounding us, laughing at our attempts to use
sign language to bridge the barrier. We stayed and talked for about
half an hour before taking the obligatory picture with Mary, giving
her a hug, and heading back to the house.

Lookig back, I realize that this was a really amazing and important
experience for me to have had. When I left to go to visit the
hospital, I never imagined that I would end my day by hugging a leper.
My lack of education on the disease and its transmission and treatment
was so extreme that I once again felt like the ignorant westerner,
taking my health for granted and being completely unaware of the
problems of the rest of the world.

Laura, Jenna, and I debriefed our amazing experience with an hour-long
walk along the side of the road towards the town. We passed many
school children along the way, making their way home for dinner. I
think that for many of them, this was either the first or one of very
few times that they had ever seen white/western people like us. We all
waved like crazy to all of them. The little kids on the bus laughed
and screamed, the girls in uniforms with their hair in bows giggled
and smiled and turned away, and even the parents nodded their heads in
acknowledgement of our presence. It's kind of cool to feel like a
celebrity wherever we go, even if it is just our skin color.

We returned to the guest house for dinner, again courtesy of William.
As he made poori and masala, he sang and mumbled words to the songs
from "the Sound of Music", whistling the tune to parts of the song
that he didn't know through his many missing teeth. He had a giggle
that sent the three of us into a fit of laughter everytime he left the
room, and his food made us so happy that it was a great meal.

William left at around 8, and the three of us sat down in the living
room to hang out for a few hours and talk before bed. Suddenly, Laura
sits straight up and looks towards the bedrooms. I glance over just
quick enough to see a little, wiry tail disappear into my room. We all
ran into the room and see the little lizard dart into the bathroom,
behind the pedestal sink. While Jenna and I stand on the bed watching,
Laura hits the sink, trying to draw out the little guy. As a much
bigger, black one emerges and scurries behind the toilet, Jenna
screams and Laura jumps up to join us on the bed. We soon realize that
the bathroom is home to an infestation of lizards, and after the third
emerges, we quickly shut the door and stuff towels under it to keep
them from entering my room. Later on, as we retreated into the kitchen
to get water, we discover cockroaches in the sink. Sitting on the bed
talking, we are interrupted every few minutes by somebody squishing a
tiny bug or mosquito. The hourly 5 minute power cuts are enough to
keep the three of us on edge, talking and joking and all the while
wondering how we will sleep with all the critters around us. Once I
finally decide that I have calmed down enough to sleep after realizing
all the creature problems in the once cute house, I head into my room
to try and figure out the broken air conditioner. As I draw back the
curtain of my window, I come face to face with a rat, which proceeds
to run up the inside of the window bars. After informing Jenna and
Laura, and finding an empty rats nest in their windows as well, and
staying up awhile longer, I retreat back to my room to try and occupy
myself for long enough that it either becomes morning or I fall asleep
with the lights on or stop caring about the rats/lizards/bugs/ants/
grasshoppers and whatever else I happen to be sharing my room (and
potentially my bed) with.

I think I fell asleep around 2:30 after deciding to try turning the
lights off. A short three hours later at 5:45, I awoke suddenly out of
a dream. My thoughts went first to the rats and the stories that we
had been told by the nurses about rats chewing off fingers of leprosy
patients. However, I soon realized that I had awoken to a loud and
heavy pounding on the front door, accompanied by a little Indian man
with a high-pitched voice, yelling loudly. Somehow, when William left
after dinner the night before, the three of us has misunderstood his
English and thought that he was coming at 7:15 to make breakfast.
Apparently he meant 5:45. Other than my sleepy stumble to unlock the
front door, I thankfully slept uneventfully, and awoke with all my
limbs intact.

Day 2 at the hospital was really relaxing, and even though we were
still shuffled around the campus, there was little new information
that hadn't already been given to us and we were able to observe a
little more. After a brief morning chapel service, we watched physical
therapy sessions with the leprosy patients, wandered around the ward,
and during our session in the reception area, we were totally at a
loss for what else to do or ask, so we started learning phrases in
Tamil. William was pleasantly surprised when we came back to lunch and
afterward said to him, "idhu naala irriku", informing him that we were
quite pleased with the food.

Before heading out, we stopped by the women's leprosy ward to say
goodbye to our new friends. After many pictures and promises to send
cards, we met our taxi and headed out.

Returning home, I sat in the front seat with the driver. This is a
mistake that I will never make again. I am convinced that Indian
drivers all have a death wish and drive with their hands on the horn
more than the edge of the steering wheel itself. Crazy.

After traveling to Chennai and Pondicherry, and then to the leprosy
hospital, it will be nice to have some time back here to relax.
Tonight, my host mother let me into the kitchen to help her with
dinner. Together, we made chappathi and masala, and it was SOOOOO
good. I made her tell me the recipe as she went and then I checked it
with her after we were finished to make sure that I had a recipe I
would be able to replicate. Like all great cooks though, many
ingredients that she added were not nearly precisely measured, and
that bit will be up to me to experiment with while I'm here. I am also
insisting that she teach me how to make poori (boori?), dosa, chutney,
and everything else that I eat here and like.

Off to get caught up on the World Cup!