Another day, another litre of sweat

Being an International Woman of Medicine and looking like a cross between an overripe strawberry and a prune which has been in the bath too long is not an easy look to carry off. I find, looking supremely unconcerned about the nudges, stares and smiles hidden ineffetually behind hands is an essential art to master. On the bus into Vellore today, I could, however, quite see what was so funny. The windows of the bus have no glass, the seats are the size and height of a small footstool and the locals are microscopic. I was one of the first on the bus and therefore sat by the window. Taking up the entire space. Actually more than the entire space. My head was cut off by the top frame from my nose upward, my shoulder and arm were billowing out of the bus window and my boobs were invading the personal space of the two local ladies in front. It must have looked like an Ogress was taking a jaunty little bus trip with the fairies. The man who initally looked delighted at the opportunity of sitting next to a foreigner, soon realised that there were serious repercussions as he had to bounce along clinging to the tiny seat by one buttock whilst being wedged against a metal pole. He still managed to fall asleep, however, despite sitting over the wheel, which gives the effect of being in a shotgun everytime the bus rocketed over a pothole, of which there are many and various.

Introduction to cultural healthcare differences

We went out to the village yesterday to one of the community healthcare buildings where there was a meeting of village women to ask them what their local needs were. The healthcare staff, mainly from a social worker background were really keen to show us how needy the community was which basically involved pointing to various women in the group and saying things like - "she's mentally retarded, she's blind, um, yes, that one there's a bit of a thickie" You know the score, it was slightly alarming, but the women despite having their shortcomings pointed out in such a overt way, were keen to tell us everything and actually put their hands up to express their disabilities if they had been passed over. Amazing how we take confidentiality not only for granted but that it is sacrosanct!

Wow it's humid

I'm here! After months of preparation, well not actual preparation but thinking about preparation, I have finally arrived. The flight was pretty comfortable and I ate two meals, watched two films and slept intermittently over the course of my 13 hour journey. I feel the weight dropping off already. Subsequently, I have sweated at least a further quarter of my body weight again. Maybe I won't need this worm after all.

I felt very important when I got off the plane at Chennai (Madras), because as I emerged blinking from the featureless baggage reclaim area into the hot, dusty, busy bustle of the airport complex, there was a smiling man holding a placard with "Dr Arabella Onslow" on it. I felt like running around the airport shouting that's me, I have a placard all of my own! Except of course it was far to hot to move faster than a drawl. I swished past everyong else haggling for a taxi and got into a (non-ambassador) airconditioned car!!!! Sadly the whole image of Important Visiting Doctor was somewhat ruined by my sweaty look and bulging rucksack with dangling straps.

Then we entered the world of Indian Rush Hour. A civilisation in itself. Some things haven't changed in 20 years - namely the sheer number and variety of forms of transport on the road and of course the sheer numbers and varieties of bodies piled on each mode of transport. Most impressive of course being the phutting moped carrying every member of extended families, all of whom were wearing flowing robes and none of whom were wearing helmets. I think the most I saw was 5 people on one moped.

The most joyous moment was seeing an autorickshaw - basically a three wheeled moped with a yellow and black canopy - advertising a jeep cherokee 4x4 on it's back window. On wonders who the targe audience for that advert might be.

After a 2 1/2 hour drive I arrived at the RUHSA campus where I shall be based from now on. It is 25km outsde Vellore and unfortunately receives no mobile signal, but I shall get a local sim card to speak to people inside India and receive texts from outside. My IVD (important visiting doctor) status continued as I was introduced to various people, but it was clear they were all slightly wondering what I was actually doing there. Yesterday I mostly slept, but today was very useful as I spent it with the representative of the UK charity on whose behalf I am here and we visited various rural sites and learnt more about the projects needing to be started, but most importantly of all, the director, Dr KR John who was my one contact in Vellore, is really happy and excited to have me on board and is already busy planning what useful things I can do.

So, all in all it looks really promising and I am very much looking forward to seeing how things develop.

One downside (here comes obligaory reference to bowel habits) my knees are going to kill after 6m of having to squat. I'm thinking of investing in a commode.

Nearly off

Having said goodbye to everyone at least 15 times over the last two months since my first leaving party, I am at last nearly leaving. I have 48hours before I start my trip by driving down south to my parents where my poor mother will have the unlikely privilege of looking after my dog, who, when he stays with his grandmother, has a nasty habit of cruising the local restaurants terrorising the chefs. He also teaches my parents' dogs to do the same. I expect my mum will have a lovely spotted handbag when I get back after 6m.

As far as my trip is concerned it's come together very well and I am very excited. I will be spending the whole 6m in Vellore, which is about 130km due west of Madras, working with a rural healthcare team to establish local healthcare needs and set up new projects to improve them. It is really an extremely exciting opportunity and I will be able to learn loads whilst out there. How my experiences of Dalton & Kirkby folk will help me when faced with tiger bites and leishmaniasis and how I will then integrate my learning back to Cumbrian health requirements will remain to be seen! No doubt I shall bring back some dire diseases I can diagnose on myself.

I am no longer going to Ireland due to the airport shennanigans as I don't want to risk missing my flight to India, so I will go to the airport on Sunday and, with a little bit of luck, I might get to leave the country by Tuesday. It s a 17hr flight via Dubai. Mmm, may need some flight socks for that. My luggage contains mostly books and leastly pants. I reckon pants will be easier to get out there than all the unread books I have accumulated over the last 36 years. Also, what is v exciting news is that a friend of mine is going to house sit for me which means that the damp patch will no longer be growing unnoticed. He may be joined by his sister as well which is great. Typical, a young handsome man enters my house as I leave.....

The Countdown Conundrum

Now we are in August the final Countdown has started and the conundrum is - how ready am I? Well, I have my ticket. I think that's quite an achievement - I will be departing for India on the 27th August. However I am trying to squeeze in a friends wedding in Ireland on the 26th so I will be leaving the country a few days before that.

I am also now the proud ower of travel insurance, surprisingly hard to get if you are doing a trip longer than most working peoples holidays and are over the age of 35. Obviously, either the insurance company feels you are likely to drop dead by lifting a heavy rucksack or they are trying to convey a moral message regarding overlong holidays. Either way I ignored them.

The next exciting phase is to be stabbed several times over and given noxious substances to take on a regular basis in order to ward off all the nasty lurgy I might catch out there. Sometimes you just wonder what the worse option might be.....