Tales from BR Hills.

(The following three short tales signify to me the days I spent at BR hills as an Intern. I remember these stories because they are not just stories but some kind of mantras! They might have occurred at a place very remote to ‘civilization’ and to people with remote sense of ‘civility’. We may think ‘what else can they do, they are just those tribals’, but in some what deeper sense is there anything else they could have done? How is that what they do is in some way related to me and to what I do? Yes, they make me think, again and again of a simple question: - what is progress?)
The photograph, taken from my mobile camera is that of Doddasampige mara, near BR Hills, with some Soliga tribal kids around the tree.

I was in BR Hills doing my internship, where we had to visit the tribal settlements deep in the jungles in an ambulance to provide health benefits to the tribes’ people. I enjoyed those rides as we had to pass through the thick forests and sometimes steep slopes. Most of the times we would be lucky to find wild animal’s en route to the camp site. It would get almost dark in the jungle as the sun would find it hard to pierce through the thick foliage. The eerie silence with the rustle of the leaves and the usual spattering of the bird calls mixed with the engine sound of the ambulance and the apparent darkness gave me a sense of fear and curiosity.

The other reason why this ride was joyous was because we got to meet the ‘interesting’ tribes’ people. It was interesting, for me, as the tribals found ‘us’ interesting. We were considered aliens by them as we did not understand their culture and rituals. Sometimes they laughed innocently on our faces talking about the dress we wore and the manner in which we behaved! As far as they were concerned they were just some ignorant illiterates to us. This makes me wonder how civilisations have grown up and how they see each other. A typical example follows...

I sat at the rear of the mobile ambulance and checked the patients who approached me in a queue. The queue would usually consist of less than five people. Each patient who came up to me gave the details (history) of their illnesses as I checked their pulse, measured BP or sometimes inspected their chest with a stethoscope. I would sometimes cross question (lead) them until I was sure of their disease condition. Having made a diagnosis I would dispense appropriate drugs. If the patients’ situation was worse and needed hospital admission for further treatment or investigations, the patient could be picked up in the same mobile and brought to the health centre at BR Hills for further treatment. A nurse sat on the opposite side of the ambulance seat and would collect the prescription I had made and dispensed the drugs to the patient.

An elderly lady with shabby hair and dirty clothes approached me warily. The lady kept quite without giving the details about her illness even after she had approached me. So, I casually prodded her ‘Enaithamma thondare?’ (What’s the problem lady?). The lady gazed at me as though I was not there at all and kept quite without speaking! I rephrased my question more carefully ‘Ninge en thondare aagide ajji?’ (What problem do you have granny?’). She saw me from the corner of her eyes and said ‘Neenhelu’ (You tell me)! I was taken aback! I could not realise what she was telling me. I put some efforts to make my point clear this time ‘Ajji, ninage enadru khayile, thondare idre helu, adakke maathre kodthini. Jwara athava mai noviddiya ninge?’ ( Granny, if you have any illness you tell me, I will give you tablets for that. Do you have fever or body ache?’) She shot back ‘Neen thane maathre kodake bandhiradu, ninge gothagallva nangenu thondare antha. Maathre kodu!’ (It is you who is treating me; you should know what problems I have. Give me the tablets!’) The lady wanted treatment without telling me anything about her condition! The nurse beside me started laughing looking at the guiltless lady. I could not speak for some time. I raised my hand to my head, closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath! By the time I had recovered, the nurse was making her best efforts to convince the lady why it was necessary to give some details about her illness before we treated her. We could finally convince the lady to agree to give the history of her illness after we had some elaborate ‘discussions’ with her.
I was perplexed! The lady probably had taken me for a witch doctor who had magical powers. A doctor who could identify the problems in a person’s body and mind by just having a look at the person!

As far as our science of medicine was concerned it was based on the disease history we got from the patient. The patient first tries to tell us what problems he/she is facing after which we (doctors) take over and sometimes lead the patient with questions until we arrive at a diagnosis (which may need further modification after certain investigations) which can be treated with medications. This old lady was unaware of the basic facts of our science! I wondered what on earth was going on here, where was the problem? Are we in anyway responsible for this?

(The following two tales were originally posted as comments in one of the blogs of my dear friend Srikanth. Here, I have posted them again after going through the stories and modifying them a bit).

The first thing I remember about B R Hills is Jadeyappa!

During my internship rural training programme I had the honour of serving at B R Hills for a month. It was a rewarding experience for me. I preferred to go into the jungles on the mobile ambulance for health checkups.Now...the old hospital has become a welding workshop and the new bigger hospital building has come up! That’s progress! Yes, but how progressed are we? And how fast are we progressing?

Jadeyappa was a 20 year old Soliga tribal (recently married), who was admitted in the hospital when I was posted as an intern at VGKK (Vivekananda Girijana Kalyana Kendra). He was suffering from Pericardial Effusion (fluid collected around the heart), probably of tuberculosis origin. As, obviously, (VGKK had no high end technology and manpower,) he needed further investigations and evaluation to obtain further treatment, he was referred to Mysore. It was a case of life and death! In Mysore, if everything went to the plan, he could have been all right in 10-15 days! He and his parents refused to go to Mysore as they did not have the money or the knowledge to go and survive in the ‘external world’! (Mysore, for them was a place which was in the external world!).We tried to do whatever was possible to help Jadeyappa and his family. They didn’t budge to our plea. They told us they would rather die in their birth place, than go somewhere else for treatment. Unfortunately, we could not help Jadeyappa as he soon succumbed to the deadly disease.

As I do not want to finish with a bad note, I will tell you another incident which will cheer you guys a bit!

One cold night I was woken at about 3am in the morning as there was an emergency case. As it was the colder period of the year, not many patients were expected at that time of the day. As I entered the hospital....I heard a woman breathing heavily, almost gasping. She was accompanied by her drunken husband who had beaten her when he had come home late last night. She was immediately administered nebulisation, as she was a known patient with asthma. After the patient was stabilised I scolded the patients’ husband in harsh words telling him that his beating had precipitated the attack and it would have killed her if she was brought late to the hospital. He did not utter a word, and seemed apologetic. I came back and went to sleep immediately.

The next morning, as I wondered how the patient had come to the hospital as no ambulance was sent out the last night, I was told that the patient’s husband had carried her for 4-5 kilometres in the jungle to reach the hospital!
Maybe that’s what is called junglee love!

I only hope we will do something good for the people who deserve the right to progress.