Hanuman, M.D.

We showed up to the Hospital a little bit early, just as it was getting dark, though, with so many mountains for the sun to duck behind, I wouldn’t be surprised if night had shown up early, too. We spent about ten minutes waiting in what looked like a library, (though I tried to convince Kate it was the operating room), covered with pictures of Ram, Hanuman, and the hospital project’s namesake Vivekananda, a renown guru I’m told.
After a while it transpired that the doctor who would be speaking to us wouldn’t be there for a little bit, so we might as well walk around the hospital now rather than later. The building itself consisted of two wings, each built like a motel, with access to the second floor by way of external stairs and balcony. These were separated by a courtyard with a temple at the far end.
With very little preface from our guide we were shown into a ward consisting of around twenty beds. Slightly less than half of them were occupied by people who were clearly sick or at best on their way to recovery. I assume most of these people we saw were Adavasis (indigenous people), as the main goal of the hospital project is to provide western medicine to these communities, free of charge. One of the main problems the Adavasis face is anemia. No one seems to be able to say conclusively if it has always been a problem and has just recently been diagnosed, or if it and the other diseases that plague them came along with westernization and the subsequent change in their diet. But as we stood, clustered, not wanting to invade their privacy any more than we had, I noticed that very few people in the room had anything amiss on a surface level, so I wondered.
Next we were shown into the maternity room. I was at the head of the line at this point so I got the brunt of the surprise when the guide opened the door to reveal that there was, in fact, a woman in the room, in bed. The attendant motioned for me to go in, but by reflex I side-stepped and walked back along the hall. The rest of the group followed suit, the effect being of a large, touristy snake, winding past that lady’s door.
Crossing the yard, we walked past the temple. Glancing in, I saw a shirtless man in a white lungi lighting a candle. Apparently, the Adavasis are not traditionally Hindu. But those who have been brought into the fold are often associated with the Monkey-shaped god Hanuman, servant of lord Ram. As the story goes, one day lord Ram’s wife was sick. The only medicine? A special herb that grew on a special mountain. Hanuman, being the servant, was sent to go fetch it. Super. The only problem was that once Hanuman got there, he was too stupid to figure out which herb he had been sent for. So he picked up the whole mountain and brought it home. Moral of the story, being smart really isn’t necessary for servants.
On the last leg of the tour, we passed the pharmacy where two young girls in white lab coats counted out pills into bottles. Apparently, seventy percent of the hospital staff is Adavasi. And these girls looked like they knew how to identify medicines.