My feelings about the Ayurvedic clinic trip certainly would reflect the latter of Emanuel's options. You'd think that by this time I had learned my lesson: don't expect anything except for the unexpected.
Wednesday morning Emanuel and I grumblingly awoke from our beds following only four hours of sleep the night before after waiting up until almost one to let the other volunteers who had gone out to dinner back inside. At 5:30 we were picked up by the Projects Abroad car and taken on an adventure to Dindigul. We arrived an hour and a half later outside a beautiful, gated two-story house. It was the kind of house that in India would only belong to a very good doctor. The marble entryway led up the marble stairs into the living room, which was filled with beautiful idols and posters of Hindu gods, as well as large, framed pictures of the family that I presumed owned the house and the former president of India. After waiting only 45 minutes in the living room, (ugh... could have been sleeping...), a petite 40 year old Indian woman emerged from the family bedroom into the living room to greet us. The strikingly beautiful appearance of Dr. Meenal threw me off
guard a little, first because I thought that Dr. Meenal was a man, and second because in my opinion, she set the bar at a new height in terms of a colorful and cultural appearance of women that I have seen in India. Unlike other rich Indian women who tend to be housewives with a nice belly, Dr. Meenal was remarkably trim, likely from her on-the-go energy. She was wearing a bright yellow saree that flowed down to her ankles over a dark green top, and her gold earrings and necklace, and diamond nose stud all gave her the look of a much younger woman. She greeted us with a warm enthusiasm that would last the duration of our visit. Her 12 year old son (who looked like he could have been 8), Sudhasana (Sudha) greeted us after just having woken up, and husband followed soon after. After a quick tour of the home, which revealed an open terrace on top of the home and a guest house next door for us, in front of the family's herb garden, we headed for the
hospital.
We arrived at the Gandhigram Hospital and immediately went to the restaurant for an awesome welcome to Dindigul: boori and potato masala. We then had a tour of the artificial limb wing, the adoption center, and the geriatric homes. Some interesting things that I learned on the tour: having a child outside of wedlock is illegal, as is homosexuality, and all pregnant women and their husbands must undergo mandatory HIV testing and education counseling (although it was unclear if this is universal or just at this hospital). After our tour, we followed Dr. M to a nearby workshop hosted by the hospital on "Sanitary Napkin Technology", where she gave a presentation on the female reproductive system. Unfortunately, the keynote speaker, as well as all of the presenters including Dr. M spoke in Tamil for the entire 2.5 hours, so Emanuel and I sat and stared at our hands.
Afterward, we got a drink of some natural energy booster syrup (nanaya root maybe?) and walked across the highway where we caught the bus back into town (the hospital is 12 km from Dindigul). Upon arriving, we met the husband for lunch and a little tour of the downtown. As we walked into the flower market, which was an upstairs open-air market full of people quickly and delicately sewing flowers into long garlands, the sky burst open and I witnessed my first monsoon. Water jetted down from the sky with such force and volume that In less than five minutes streams were flowing down the sides of the streets and not a person remained on the sidewalks that had only minutes before held hundreds. We waited out the storm in the market, walking through and smelling all the flowers and taking pictures. As the storm began to clear, we walked outside and husband took Emanuel on his motorcycle to the clinic while I began to walk with Dr. M through the streets that
now had small lakes in each giant pothole. A couple minutes later, husband on motorcycle came around the corner and gestured for me to get on. Despite all of my better judgement and hearing my mom's voice from when I was little in my head telling me never to go on a motorcycle and always to wear a helmet on bikes, I jumped on the back with no helmet and held on tight as we whipped around street corners, between buses, and ridiculously close to street-crossing pedestrians. I arrived without a scratch moments later outside a staircase that led up to Dr. M's private clinic for Siddha medicine.
Siddha is a practice of ancient medicine similar to Ayurveda, focusing on keeping the various components of the body is equilibrium, with some help from herbal medicines and other natural treatments. One Siddha claim to fame from an excerpt that I read earlier in a packet from Dr. M said that the Siddhais were the first to recommend use of cannabis for medicinal purposes, specifically as a painkiller.
We started off the afternoon seeing patients that came into the office for various reasons, many for help with conceiving. One case in particular threw Dr. M into a frenzy as she scolded a young wife who had undergone numerous fertility treatments and exams after being unable to conceive. She explained to us afterwards that the husband had never had a semenalysis done, assuming in that the problem must be with the woman. "Only in India" Dr. M said, referring to the male-dominated society as a woman who was a clear example of what she thought women could and should accomplish.
At 3:30, the doctor handed us books on yoga, medicinal herbs, and siddha practice and left the room. After we had spent over an hour paging through the books absentmindedly as the hours of sleep that we had missed started to catch up with us, a man who looked about 20 but who was actually 30 showed up and sat with us, making casual conversation about yoga and meditation. Casual conversation turned into six hundred questions about ourselves and everything in our lives, and then he kept asking us if we liked him or if we had "any doubts", which is Indian English for "any questions". We waited with him for the doctor in awkward silence that was periodically interrupted by other questions from yoga man, like "what does your father do?", "how do you like the climate?", "how many brothers do you have?", and various other questions that I seem to answer whenever having a conversation with a new Indian person. Yoga man informed us after another half hour of
waiting that the doctor had gone to "take rest" in the room next door, which after a long day and little sleep, we were really envious of. He decided to start giving us a lesson about yoga, beginning by telling us the basic history and various types. This would normally have been okay except that yoga man decided to quiz us on what he had just said everytime that he said a long list of six-syllable Sanskrit words. He was not entirly thrilled that we couldn't remember everything that he had just said, and it took some serious convincing to tell him that we were interested and not bored. Apparently convinced, he decided to move us on to the practical lesson. In our pants and collared shirts, we practiced the various asanas that he gave us to do. Yoga man was not very forgivig though when we forgot the next pose or opened our eyes, and he frequently snapped at us in a style that would have been much more expected coming from a ballet teacher and not a yoga
instructor. Yoga man was especially unimpressed when we refused to try putting our feet behind our heads (although I think I got extra points with him for somehow managing to get into the lotus position even though it didn't last long). In our defense though, I think that the outside temperature was about 105 degrees and all we had was a ceiling fan inside. After we had finished, yoga man told us that we had done "very perfect yoga", although I secretly think that he just didn't know the English word "pathetic". The best part about yoga man though was that he was also a trained masseur, and after we had finished yoga he decided that he would teach us some massage, and that I would be the first one on the table.
Now when I say table, I mean hard metal bed frame. A table probably would have seemed soft compared to the frame. Although I was excited for the massage, I have to admit that I was a little shocked and completely caught off guard when he poured baby oil on his hands and reached for my face as I laid down on the bed frame. All that I could think about was the way that Indian people are so careful to only ever touch others with their right hand, what the left had represents, and the fact that at that moment both hands were squeezing my face with oil that i'm sure my skin was not totally thrilled about. When he began karate chopping a pinching my face, something that I don't think any professional has ever done before, I actually started laughing along with Emanuel who was really struggling to keep a straight face everytime I grimaced as yoga man's hands descended back down to my face. Despite being oily, sweaty, and sore afterwards, the chest and back
massages were actually fine though.
At around 9, Dr. M finished seeing patients and doing odds and ends around the clinic, and we headed to dinner with husband, Sudha, and yoga man. Other than the fact that our dosas were shaped like volcanoes, that was the end of the excitement for the night. Upon arriving home, Emanuel and I were only too happy to retire to the guest house and fall asleep.
This morning at around 5:30, I awoke suddenly to what I was sure must have been a really loud radio alarm clock. I soon realized though that the deafening Indian techno was coming from the temple next door, as the village began day two of their three day celebration of the god of the village. After trying to sleep for another couple hours, Sudha and husband came to ou room and told us that we should get up and accompany them to the temple. We did so, and walked next door to the village "temple", which was a small, closet sized room where a beautiful gold colored Indian god statue was beind adorned with garland upon garland of beautiful flowers, and people from the village brought food to sacrifice and have blessed. As new visitors to the temple, Emanuel and I were greeted by two older men and presented with huge flower garlands as well that rivaled Hawaiian leis in size and beauty. After watching the coconuts and bananas be blessed and receiving white
and red powder for our foreheads, we left with the family and their servants who had joined us at that time as well.
We went back to the home and had a quick breakfast of idly before going outside to meet the auto rickshaw. The privately hired rickshaw took us to a huge temple where we saw some of the most beautiful stone and gold figures of many gods. Husband (whose name I was never sure of but I think it started with Maha), took us on a tour around the temple showing all the amazing architecture and carvings.
After the temple visit, we got back in the rickshaw and headed out into rural farmland outside of the Dindigal area Until this point, we actually had not had any idea what the husband did for a living, and after he had stayed around Dr. M's clinic the day before, we had come to assume that he was a househusband who also had an interest in Siddha and herbs. As we arrived in a tiny village in a grove of palm trees though, Sudha announced that this was their village. A little confused, I asked for clarification, since surely they lived in Dindigal at the home where we had just stayed. Maha informed us that the village literally belonged to him, and the people there tended to and worked on his farm. It was then that we walked behind a home and came upon the farm. We had a small tour of the land, and saw the giant well that they use for water, as well as many of the herbal plants that are grown on the farm for use in Siddha medicine. It turns out that the
family actually grows many of the herbs that Dr. M prescribes to patients, and it is Maha's job to overee the farm and the village. We had green coconut water and bananas, both of which are also grown on the farm. It was nice to be out of the city, and for the first time in awhile, it felt good to breathe the air around me since it wasn't just car fumes. The hills surrounding the village covered by palm trees were beautiful and it was all really relaxing. The only downside to the farm was the insects. I normally don't have an issue with insects, and have gotten especially used to mosquitoes and ants and everything while being in India, but being in rural India on a farm feels a little different. I imagine that it's probably because during my appointment with the travel doctor before I came to India, I decided against a $500 shot for Japanese Encephalitis and the expensive malaria pills that give night terrors, and the doctor told me that they were most
necessary I'd I was going to be spending time in rural areas. A few hours really doesn't seem like too much when I think about it, but when I found red ants stinging my feet through my sandals and mosquitoes swarming me next to the cows, it made me a little paranoid just the same. Side note: I think this will be the first time that I will have the option of checking the "been on a farm" box on the U.S. Customs form when I come home (although I probably shouldn't if I don't want to spend quality time with the customs officers...).
After seeing the farm, we went back to the home, had some curd rice and pickled mango, sambahr and rice, egg dish, lemon juice, and mango. Then we went to the clinic to say goodbye to Dr. M and were picked up by the Projects Abroad car to head back home.
It was a good trip to see and learn a bit about Siddha medicine and it was wonderful to meet the family and have a go at hatha yoga, even if it was in khaki pants and a dress shirt in a 105 degree room.
Tomorrow I will go with Jess, Emanuel, Alan, and Allison to Kanyakumari, the southernmost point in India. From there, we will travel to Kovalam, famous for its beaches and, according to my host mother, its massage as well.
Hard to believe that I only have two weekends left in India! Next Friday I will leave Madurai and go to Bangalore and Mysore for a few days, before heading to Chennai on the following Monday and leaving for Frankfurt late Tuesday night.
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