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Monday, September 14, 2015

You May Say That I'm A Dreamer, But I'm Not The Only One. I Hope Someday You Will Join Us And The World Will Be As One

Entry #15

May 15, 2014

     I would like to discuss some of the differences between the Indian and American healthcare systems. They are worlds apart, but I will point out the starkest contrasts I encounter.
    Health insurance in India is not ever mentioned and does not seem to be necessary. Treatment and visits or tests are quite cheap for citizens who often struggle financially. An MRI could cost around 17 USD. In the US, this cheap price is not possible because citizens are overrun by competitive, corruptive third party payers. There may not be one insurance company that monopolizes the market, but the market certainly monopolizes society's pockets. While America has higher quality facilities and equipment, I believe it is vital to establish a middle ground between zero insurance companies and a barely-regulated competitive market.
    Secondly, healthcare professionals in India do not maintain standard hygienic standards. I have yet to see one box of gloves and there is never soap in the bathrooms. Hygiene in all of India is underwhelming. especially in important healthcare settings. Greg asked me today if undergoing surgery in India would be safe due to the lack of hygiene, and I haughtily replied that surgeries in India obviously require sterilization and such. Truthfully, I'm not so sure. I am curious to observe surgery here to understand the health and hygiene practices that surround it.
    Another stark contrast is the lack of patient records in India compared to the strict upholding of such records in the US. Everything is done on paper in India and there is no requirement to obtain and store patient records. Everything in the US was transferred to EMRs, which is impractical for a country with inconsistent electricity. Every day, multiple times a day, there are bouts of overloaded power lines and blackouts. There frequent occurrences do not last more than a half hour normally, but it would make EMRs difficult and undesirable. These overloads are so natural to daily life here that Dr. Joshi asked how I keep from freezing in the winter when my power goes out. I explained that our power almost never goes out. He didn't seem to completely understand the concept.
    As I have mentioned before, there is no patient confidentiality or privacy in India. There are no laws here that parallel HIPPA and the country is so overpopulated that there are often 30 patients crowded in one room while the physician treats them in the same room right on the spot. If personal information needs to be discussed, it is in front of strangers. Greg and I are able to take pictures of test results and patients. This lack of confidentiality serves students well and is unfortunately more practical due to overpopulation.
   Another large difference often not considered is the nonexistence of patent laws in India. This means that any person can start a pharmaceutical company and sell whatever products to providers or directly to patients. There is nothing similar to the FDA. There are at least 90 companies in just the city of Dehradun! We learned this early on this week when Dr. Gandhi sat through at least 20 sales pitches for different drugs. Every day he lies victim to an onslaught of 30-40 sales pitches and politely rejects each one. They know exactly when his rotations end and show up 10 minutes early to begin lining up. They have access to information about every drug he prescribes and he is considered an A grade doctor due to the amount of patients he sees each day. The poor man is forced to listen to these pitches and accept flyers because he must memorize what drugs belong to which companies and what their indications are in case his patients use any of these drugs.
    There are far more differences between the two healthcare systems but these key points are pronounced and influential to the experiences I have had.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

I Always Feel Like Somebody's Watching Me

Entry #14

May 14, 2014

   I am so thankful for all of the studying we did last night. Because of it, we were able to identify specific lung sounds and had a much easier time reading EKGs, which we spent most of our clinic hours working on. It is still extremely difficult to diagnose a patient from an EKG, but I am now able to make educated guesses about what a certain condition's EKG would show. We were able to answer many more questions today and also ask more detailed questions ourselves. We are helping one another through the material and with such difficult concepts, have a study partner is extremely beneficial. We were taught how to perform an EKG by observing Dr. Gandhi's staff. We then each performed two on our own.
   After clinics we went shopping again. I spent quite a bit of money again and I am sure I will need to use my debit card. I do not regret my purchases because I have accomplished 100% of my shopping list aside from tea boxes and a tailor for my saari. Mrs. Mehta says she will contact her tailor for me.
   I emailed Corbett today after failing to reach them via phone all week. Mayank came to visit us tonight. We decided that Greg and I will travel to Nainital Saturday morning and stay the night. Sunday morning we will drive to Corbett Park and do the elephant safari. We will need to book a private elephant through a government window somewhere on the way to Nainital. Mayank then arranged train beds to and from Amritsar. They are not set in stone, but I am not worried because these things usually have a way of working themselves out. Not to mention, my mother claims I am the luckiest kid alive. Based on my history, I believe her. Worrisome matters simply fall into place for me.
   I forgot to mention last night that I made Greg and I get lost on the way to Dr. Gandhi's clinic. As my mother would expect from my luck, I asked the correct stranger for help because he offered to drive us there on his motorcycle! We arrived just in time and I can now cross "ride a motorcycle" off my bucket list. I realize this may concern some readers, and Mayank was not thrilled, but it was honestly a short, kind, innocent lift on a motorcycle that didn't exceed 35 mph. What is the point of life if we don't take small chances and try new things? I feel a trip to India by oneself is far more risky than a 0.5 mile ride on a helpful stranger's motorcycle.
   On the walk to the market, we were asked to pose for a picture. Soon our one pose attracted another larger group who took pictures. I silently stood and smiled as strangers pointed cameras in my face and unabashedly snapped away. The strangers who have taken pictures while we have been here have been mainly focused on me and not Greg because a) I am a female, b) I have a darling, perfectly straight smile thanks to braces and mouthwash, and c) I have red hair. 
   I do not necessarily mind and can get over the feeling that I am a zoo attraction; however, I can barely tolerate the candid photos. There have been multiple and probably many more that I have not noticed. First off, I look absolutely dreadful in all candid shots, I promise. Secondly, I would never ever deny posing for a picture if someone asks nicely. What bothered me the most was that a patient's family snuck photos of me in a very obvious manner while I was trying to work and focus on the patient's lungs. I would have posed for a picture if asked to, but I felt that candid photos made me appear unprofessional and caused me to lose focus while working. At least I was still able to hear fine crackles!
   I am very upset to have only two more days left to work with Doctors Joshi and Gandhi. I am learning so much and admire both men a great deal. I wish I would be able to sit and pick their brains forever; a week is simply not enough! There is a pretty slim chance I can work with the neurologist, but I still hold some hope.

P.S. Greg flinched more than I've seen anyone flinch in my entire life–it was more of a jump–because of a very intimidating (wait for it) butterfly! I was at least two feet from his face! Cracked me up.

I'm Gonna Pop Some Tags, Only Got $20 In My Pocket

Entry #13

May 13, 2014

   Technically it is 1:30am on the 14th. I know I should sleep plenty before I wake up at 7:40, but I need to write! First I would like to mention how grateful and amazed I am for global connectivity through the internet. I am fortunate to have been able to keep in consistent contact with family and friends. Also a quick shout-out to Greg for bringing, not just one, but two devices that connect to wifi. Let's give it up for Greg, everyone!
   I woke up this morning determined to hate on Greg and send him death glares and cold shoulders throughout clinic. He eventually wore me down by asking nonstop why I was angry and I calmly reamed him out. He apologized. I soon realized how pointless and misdirected most of my frustrations were so I apologized also. We moved on and went back to being a dynamic duo. We had a fun day exploring and hanging out. Remember, kids, communication is key! I don't know exactly why I was so angry this morning, but now that I think about it, I was probably PMSing. I'll have to tell Greg that tomorrow. I'm sure my hormonal cycles are his top concern.
   I enjoyed having Greg with me today because I had someone to talk with, someone to confide in when I could hear absolutely nothing through the stethoscope and I felt more confident about asking questions or for clarification. We read many EKGs, none of which we understood. We spent hours tonight looking up and jotting down notes of how to interpret the darn things. Hopefully we understand more tomorrow.
   The first thing we did in Dr. Joshi's clinic today was examine a 2-month old's heart with an echocardiogram (an ultrasound on the heart). I was amazed by the clarity of the image and how well I was able to recognize the heart's anatomy. The baby had ASD (atrial septum defect) and VSD (ventricular septum defect). Essentially, neither septum are intact. Dr. Joshi prescribed corrective surgery. I asked Dr. Gandhi if we could learn how to work the EKG machine and he said he would teach us the minute we walked in tomorrow.
   After clinics, we went shopping. It rained this morning, which is very early in the year for this part of India. By the end of clinics, the rain had stopped and the sun had made its appearance. It was about 73 degrees Fahrenheit outside, perfect shopping weather. I dragged poor Greg along through the shops for about four hours. Luckily he is the most patient and supportive male shopping partner I have ever known. I assume I can thank his girlfriend Delaney for that! I, once again, spent a lot more money than I planned or desired to. I have since realized that I will probably never see India again and should take as much of it back with me as baggage restrictions will allow. Furthermore I do not regret purchasing the most beautiful saari and the only one that made my jaw drop. It was saari-love at first sight! I only wish that I had known it did not come with the necessary blouse (crop top), shoes (slippers) and that I would need to have it tailored. Cha-ching! I will handle the rest of that tomorrow. During the walk through the market, we were harassed by beggar children. They hung on to our clothes and arms for minutes on end, begging and pestering us. There were so many children that we could not risk giving change to one for fear that the rest would swarm us. They would not leave us alone, and I am not ashamed to say that I have never wanted to push a child down or throw one into a bush more than at that moment. Any sane adult who was subjected to the same tiny hands clinging and tiny voices perpetually begging for money would feel the same way. Tonight, I was a victim of child harassment.
   We returned home and bonded with Mrs. Mehta over our recent purchases. A great way to bond with anyone, I've learned. I am very glad we are forming a better relationship with our homestay mother. She is very understanding and flexible about making our meals.
   Until now, I have neglected to discuss women's styles in India. This is one of the first contrasts I notice when traveling outside of the U.S. I love the style here. Most women cover up their legs and upper arms, but this is not required or strictly followed. Saaris are also an interesting piece because they expose the midriff. Unfortunately almost every saari-adorned woman I've seen had very excessive fat or loose, flabby skin in the exposed region. I commend these women for displaying their bodies so freely, without fear of judgment. Almost all women also have nose rings and multiple ear piercings. Even many of the junior school students in Patti had pierced noses. The way scarves are worn in India is simply around the chest, with both ends of the scarf hanging off the shoulders, down the back. This style requires frequent adjustment of the scarf. There are so many variations on style based upon the individual woman's beliefs. These include but are not limited to: tikkas between the eyes; red paint along the hair's part; henna drawn on the hands; and covering of the entire head with a scarf. I find the Indian styles very different from typical American styles, especially considering the high temperatures here.

I Said "Doctor!" To Relieve This Belly Ache

Entry #12

May 12, 2014

   In the middle of the night Sunday, Greg and I both woke up, sick with diarrhea and terrible nausea. I am sure it is from the fraud German Bakery we ate at on Saturday. Because I am a delicate little flower who withers away at the food here, I barely touched my meal at the restaurant. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Greg is a food tyrant who stuffs his face with everything he can reach; he ate both our meals. Poor Greg! Due to this MO of ours, I felt mostly better by the morning, whereas Greg was still resting at death's door by 8pm on Monday. I attended clinics today alone.
   Mayank drove me to the cardiologist and showed me the path I would take with the vickram. I am scared for this as I am not sure where to board one and I don't have any small change with me. I suppose I will figure things out. I still did not feel well and could only eat an orange that morning. At the beginning of clinic with the cardiologist, I was close to fainting for a minute or two. I chugged some water and then felt I was no longer near passing out. It would be a lie to say this does not happen often to me. I truly do not drink enough water.
   I followed the doctor to a small room already filled to the brim with patients. They began to step up one by one and get checked out by Dr. Joshi. He saw each patient for only a few minutes, taking their blood pressures and checking their heart/lungs with a stethoscope. Every few patients, he would lean back and tell me a diagnosis or explain a physiological concept. He answers my questions well and I can mostly understand through his accent. He shows me EKGs and brain scans, which are very interesting and almost impossible to decipher. We saw at least 50 patients together and he sees, on average, 150 patients a day.
   The second clinic is emergency medicine with Dr. Sanjay Gandhi. If I can survive the terrifying, dangerous walk there every day, I think I will enjoy it very much. Dr. Gandhi is a very professional man who oozes intelligence and confidence with just one glance. He is very kind and modest, making it easy to talk to him once conversation is initiated. I was extremely intimidated at first because I sat quietly on his couch as he saw many, many patients without speaking a word to me. After about an hour, we got up to do rounds in the building that he owns. We entered about 15 rooms, some with multiple patients. Despite being followed closely by six employees hanging on his every word, Dr. Gandhi explained everything in English and asked me to check chests, MRIs and EKGs. I felt prioritized, which was very comforting since I was all alone for the first time in a medical clinic here. It was very nerve-racking to draw conclusions and listen to heart murmurs in front of so many strangers. Basically I am entering uncharted territories under the watchful eyes of a foreign audience. Most importantly, I crave to impress such an accomplished, intelligent man as Dr. Gandhi. I feel that I performed adequately for my first day. I got some diagnoses right, some conclusions wrong, but mostly I am being exposed to material and patients that all hold clinical relevance for my future career.
   Unfortunately Dr. Gandhi speaks very softly so it is difficult to hear despite his perfect English. I hope to impress the man even a small amount and get to know him better so I can possibly ask his for a reference for grad schools. I enjoy doing both 3-hour clinics back-to-back but I will bring two water bottles tomorrow. I brought up to Mayank that I felt unprepared for some of the questions they asked me, but he eased my mind by explaining that doctors don't want to give me an inferiority complex and that they understand I am premed. I am happy with how much I am learning.

It's Been A Long Day, Always. Ain't That Right?

Entry #11

May 12, 2014

   I have not been able to journal in more than a day because so much has happened. I will try to start at the beginning.
   After taking a nap–well Greg napped; I journaled–after returning to the hotel Saturday morning, we left to go shopping. Our hotel was near Ram Juhla and the best shopping was situated just before Luxmen Juhla. Both are bridges that swing across the Ganges river. The walk to the shops took forty minutes and was about two miles in my best guess. The temperature was unbearably hot. We shopped for hours and bought a decent amount of souvenirs. I still have a lot more shopping to do, though.
   We ate in a sketchy Chinese restaurant because we believed it to be the German bakery we were advised to eat at. In our defense, the dumb restaurant SAID German Bakery on it! Freaking restaurant. We walked back after this and during the walk, I became possessed by a demon. Another day in the life of me. I felt so hot and sweaty, my feet were killing because of poor quality shoes, I had to excrete the ten bites of sucky lunch I had very badly, my thighs were chafing and burning and I knew we had at least a two mile walk ahead of us. I spent the walk either complaining when Greg would ask how I was or fixated in a death-glare silence for fear I would drown Greg in the river–merely because he was the only person I was able to take my rage out on.
   We finally returned to the hotel and after a quick, cold shower, I apologized profusely to Greg. He comforted me and said there was no need for an apology. We are all human; thus we are all allowed to feel uncomfortable and then complain about feeling uncomfortable. How can we enjoy the better moments if we do not suffer through the truly hellish ones first? We rested until it was time to meet Rajesh at Little Buddha.
   This walk was not as painful as the temperature had cooled down a little. Upon entering Little Buddha, both of our eyes bulged. The atmosphere of the restaurant was laidback and down-to-Earth. It was like hippies' galore. There was Indie-like music playing, extremely dim lighting emitted from bulbs sitting in what looked like sun hats. There was even an outdoor balcony area. One side of the restaurant had raised U-shaped platforms with cushions and pillows. The tables were so close to these cushioned platforms that customers who sat there could not put their legs down. The rest of the restaurant had normal tables and chairs. The entire place reminded me of hookah lounges back at home but with a much more positive vibe. Maybe this is because the facility served food, not flavored tobacco. Food is a much more enjoyable product. We had a great time laughing and talking with Rajesh. He left and we shopped a little more before walking home.
   The next morning we woke up, ate breakfast and checked out of the hotel. We crossed the Ram Juhla and found an auto to take us to the bus stop. We boarded the bus to Dehra Dun, but unfortunately it was full. One man found a seat up front so I took his empty one. Greg sat on the floor of the bus in the back and was able to stretch his legs out. The ride was about an hour and a half. There was so much traffic and our driver had a condition which forced him to lie on his high-pitched, deafening horn for five seconds at least once a minute. Turns out our auto driver from the bus stop in Dehra Dun presented with the same condition. If you can call being irritable as desiring to rip someone's head off, then Greg and I were a million steps past being irritable. We cheered up once we got to the homestay and showered.
   We ate lunch and rested until a cab came to pick us up. Mayank had arranged a nice tour of Dehra Dun for us since Sunday afternoon was our only chance to explore the city. We visited four temples. There was so much to take in that the details are now fuzzy, but I will attempt to recollect everything.
   The first temple had a giant golden statue of Buddha about 125 feet high. The base holding the statue was colorfully decorated and very beautiful. Inside the base was a room with completely painted walls and ceiling. Gorgeous chandeliers hung down and the support poles were draped in red fabric. At the back of the room was a shrine with a picture of who I assume was Gandhi. The shrine held many animal figurines, candles, flowers and six dishes of water. There were dishes to collect money also. There were intricately embroidered seats on either side of the shrine reserved for certain Gandhis I think. The seats could not be touched. I noticed in this temple and the second temple, both being Buddha temples, that every item and painting is detailed so precisely. Nothing is simple; everything is ornate and decorated. There are animals found everywhere, most often lion-like dragons, horses, lamb and others. Gold is the primary color although everything is very colorful. The final theme I noticed in the Buddha temples is that bigger is better.
   The second (my favorite) temple sat right down the street. We entered the large area and noticed many green fields and a crowd of citizens hanging out and playing on these fields. It was like a park. Next to the entrance was a small, empty, painted blue pool with a statue of a beautiful blonde woman serenading a swan who seems to be entranced and captivated by her musical instrument. The main attraction was a towering building with four total levels. At the top of the tower is a statue of the new Buddha who stands over the previous Buddha, descending a set of stairs. The statues were magnificent and looming.
   We entered the tower and were taken aback by the glory of it all. The giant walls were painted green and every inch was painted with a detailed scene and picture. All four walls made up a world of civilians, animals, creatures and imaginary images, none separated from another. I examined the continuous painting closer and saw every facet of the world that one could imagine. There were rooms with a missing wall so that you could look in and see families eating, women giving birth, even couples having sex! There were men hunting animals, dogs chasing men, the oh-so natural demon creature sawing off a man's leg near a fire. There were dragons and people riding clouds. I took the walls to portray all of life and every possible component of it, including what we imagine, fear and hope for. There was a sense of awe and inexplicable understanding when I viewed the walls. The rest of the first floor contained shrines and seats for holy figures. The top of the first floor was surrounded in three layered ledges that were filled by Buddha statues that sat and watched over us. The bottom-most row of statues was different from the other two rows'. All the statues were gold.
  The second floor's walls were a continuation of the statues as they covered the entire floor's surroundings. In the center of the second floor was a display case of a decorated room. There were figurines of men riding different animals that surrounded the display. The main display was so cluttered with decorations and figurines that I couldn't possibly decipher it or describe it in any amount of words. It was a beautiful work of art. 
   The third floor contained a tall display with many surrounding colorfully decorated figurines, similar to those on the second floor. The front side of the display had seven or eight vertically-arranged Buddhas. On either side of these were Buddhas sitting on clouds. They blended in with the green background, but I counted 28 cloud Buddhas in total. The back of this tall work of art was a beautiful depiction of a variety of flowers climbing and weaving their way through a white trellis. It was intricate and magnificent. Stepping out on the third floor's balcony, one was able to look directly up at the new Buddha or stand directly behind the old Buddha descending the stairs. From that angle, it was clear to see the stairs were painted white on the Buddha's left, blue where he was to walk and gold on his right side. Curious.
   The entire spectacle was breathtaking and what made the adventure more interesting was that Greg and I seemed to be spectacles ourselves! We were stared at by everyone and heard many families giggling about us as we passed. I was even approached by a man who asked if I would take a picture with his mother. I should have told him I would only take a picture with his mom if he would take one with me. He was hot! For lack of a better word, of course.
   The third and fourth temples were a stark contrast to the first two. They were very clearly Hindu. They were much more simple and less extravagant than the Buddhist temples. The Hindu temples were more about being places of prayer and worship than the Buddha temples, which were known for their shrines and sheer opulence. The animals more often found in Hindu temples are elephants, tigers and a few others. The most prominent color is red, not gold. There are bells that people can ring hanging from the ceiling. I would love to uncover the significance of ringing these bells.
   The first Hindu temple was partially located in a cave where we were sometimes forced to duck down and hunch over while walking. There was a fire lit and a gathering of people participating in prayer in a back room. In the deepest room of the dim cave, there was a single occupant–a man painting what I assume was one of the numerous shrines in the room.
   The fourth temple had many glass display cases, often containing statues or paintings of Durga. One case with a gorgeous gold tapestry of Durga also held a painting of the same woman serenading the swan I saw at the second temple. I wonder who she is and the story between her and the swan. Upstairs was a room with glass walls that contained a large group of people praying on their knees. They were not all in unison as it seemed to be individual prayer. There was a man behind a decorated desk, leading the prayer or something of the sort. It is possible he was a baubau, although I do not think so. 
   We then went out to dinner to ANOTHER Chinese restaurant. For being part of Asia, India is really bad at imitating Chinese food! I did not like my pineapple chicken meal so I boxed it up and gave it to the cab driver whom had spent five hours of his day with us. Luckily I was able to enjoy a delicious chocolate donut from the display case at the restaurant. There was a band who was pretty good, but they only played three songs within the 45 minutes we were there. We rode home, passing a very small parade on the way. I was so tired that I passed out immediately after returning to the homestay.

Thursday, June 26, 2014

Pick Your Diamond, Pick Your Pearl; There Is Beauty In The World

Entry #10

May 10, 2014

   It is currently 9:38:50 am here in my Rishekesh hotel room. I am lying in bed, of course! We woke up at 4:05 am to meet the cab at 4:45. It took us up a long, winding road for about an hour. The dark, smoldering black sky was quickly brightening and I was slightly worried we would not reach the mountain top before sunrise. We got to the parking area and left the cabbie behind so he could enjoy some restful time.
   We climbed toward the temple, and I swear there were a million stairs. Three long stairways climbed to a black existential hole of both nothingness and infinity. I felt like Rocky when we reached the top (not that he climbed a large amount of stairs). I don't think you understand. I honestly thought they would lead to the fifth galaxy of Nebulon. I was tempted to do the Rocky fist pumping jump.
   We reached the top literally at the first sight of sun. It had just peeked an inch of its head out from behind a large mountain. The view was breathtakingly gorgeous, and I wish I could have brought the entire world with me to see it. The sun quickly made its way up just a little above its hiding spot. I was able to soak in the memory and emotions while Greg snapped pictures to record the sight but not, unfortunately, the sheer beauty of the moment. The rising sun signifies a new day, a fresh start, and another chance. However, seeing the sun rise among such beautiful scenery while standing in a peaceful Hindu temple on top of a strong and powerful mountain in India was something else entirely. The whole experience was like something from a dream, something I would have never imagined myself doing, and the reality of it did not hit until the cab ride back down. I could have sat and viewed the perfect backdrop forever. I can appreciate human-made art, but it is nothing in comparison to raw, natural views such as this. These are the very scenes that have inspired artists throughout time.
   The entire atmosphere of the temple was profound, peaceful serenity. Since everything was outside and not covered by a roof, we were able to wander around, talking and laughing. We explored the area and in the center of the temple's platform was a small room with one door. The room was surrounded by a decorated gate-like wall. I could see a shrine of some type in the vacant room. Being the curious jaguar I am, there was not a flash of doubt as I removed my shoes and stepped inside. I was so intrigued by the collection of items on the shrine and the surrounding displays that I did not feel a man enter the room behind me. Greg entered soon after as he had to remove his tennis shoes.
   The man sat down at the shrine and took out a tray of various ingredients. He mixed some red powder with drips of water, creating a bright red paint. He dipped a finger in and held it out toward me. For a second I was confused, but I quickly saw the red dot of paint between his eyes. Without hesitation, I silently bowed my head so he could mark my forehead with the red dot, called a tikka. I sat on my legs and took in every detail of the profound room. There were 5 gold bells hanging from the ceiling, and I wondered if they ever ring out a melody and when or why they are pulled. The shrine was blanketed in red cloths with sparkling gold edges and accents. These red and gold cloths were found in many other places at the temple and I wondered about the significance of the color red. Sitting on the shrine was a collection of objects, and I wished to know the purpose of each item as they seemed to be such a random assortment. One white object looked to be a large sea shell, but I can not be sure. Behind my back was a glass display case with a small painted statue of the goddess Durga, my favorite of the Hindu gods I learned about. Curling around her back was Durga's pet tiger who stared at me with a look of both confidence and wariness. The statue captured Durga's great power and strength and commanded a respect that a great goddess deserves. An incense stick was lit and created a sense of privacy in the room where the smell was contained. The man filled our cupped hands with white deer-food-type pieces. We ate them in silence, and I took the time to examine the artwork handing on the walls around me.
   We eventually left the shrine room and continued to explore the area, taking a multitude of pictures. We exited the temple platform, leaving through a gold archway holding a bell and two symmetrical elephant and lion statues on either side. I have never experienced a place that combined such beauty, depth, serenity, and wonder. I am definitely not tearing up now as I reminisce about it (and I am 100% lying). I feel as though my time at the temple has allowed me to reach an untouched, deeper part of my being that evokes feelings of spirituality and mystical, peaceful wonder. I hope that the experience has changed me in a monumental way, which will be manifested in small occurrences, such as showing more compassion to strangers, being more open-minded and understanding toward others, or simply appreciating life through a new perspective. I will truly never forget this morning for as long as I breathe. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that will gave me memories and new emotions to hold forever.

Let Me Share This Whole New World With You

Entry #9

May 9, 2014

   While sitting in clinic after the mountain walk, Dr. Paul asked us to write an entry in a notebook that his volunteers can write farewell notes in. I wrote a heartfelt page from both me and Greg. We then jotted down our contact info, and I obtained everyone else's also. As I was writing, Dr. Paul started making comments about how we are always welcome back and how he hopes to see us again. He is a man who does not show emotion on his face, but I picked up on his sadness in his words and tone. The great doctor will truly miss us, and I can sense that we had an impact on him just as he had a huge impact on us. I will truly never forget the man or my far-too-short week in Patti. I teared up many times today as the moment to say farewell draws nearer. I imagine that I may very well cry tonight in my hotel room in Rishekesh. It is painfully clear that we are especially admired by Dr. Paul, Rajesh, and the others. This is most likely because we are very low in the volunteer-age spectrum for CFHI, so we are wildly enthusiastic, easily astonished, and stubbornly entertaining. I think Viridner and Rita might hold special compassion for us because of age and my difficulties with eating. This makes me a special case and evokes the parents to become protective and worry over me. I do not think we will be forgotten by Patti immediately, which fills me with immense pleasure because I will certainly never forget Patti.
   Moving on to less poignant topics, I am very frustrated by my available, packed clothing. I am very picky about my outfits in the first place, but I only have so many lightweight shirts and pants. I suppose it is not a big deal since I will be buying authentic clothing here soon.
   We have just arrived at the hotel in Rishekesh, which has been a fast-paced adventure by itself! Let me first explain how we got here. No, I do not mean to speak about our mothers' coochies. I'm talking about how we arrived in Rishekesh. After being dropped off at the homestay in Dehra Dun, we discussed weekend plans with Mayank. Then we left with Rajesh, whom lives in Rishekesh, to catch the bus there. We took an autorickshaw (simply called an auto) to the bus. There is no station that we could see, only buses merging everywhere into the insane traffic. The auto fits 3-4 people and only reaches about 30 mph. It was very open on the sides and gave us a breezy, quick ride with all the environmental smells and sounds included. Some areas near cow dung or trash piles may smell bad, but all of India is not like this. The smells may be extremely different every 20 feet or so and not all are pleasant, but it is nothing like I was warned it would smell like. All of India does not have just one terrible smell. I am finding it interesting to explore the country with my least utilized sense.
   We caught the bus as it was merging into traffic and rode for about 45 minutes or so. The area in which we boarded the bus was my first glimpse at the crowded, dirty areas often portrayed in movies. It was loud, dense, confusing, and overstimulating. As soon as I stepped off the auto, a beggar woman holding her small child's hand began pressuring me for money. She got right in my face, following me around and slightly touching me. She would not let off and it made me wonder if such methods ever work for her. Her actions evoked annoyance and anger in me, not sympathy and compassion. On the bus, we received many more stares than we have before. We were in our first truly dense population so the increase in stares was to be expected. They are so obviously curious stares, and I have yet to be harassed. I don't think this is as much of an issue as everyone made it out to be.
   After arriving in Rishekesh, we found an auto that took us to a parking lot near the bridge Ram Jhula. Riding in the auto made me realize that Rishekesh is most similar to the image of India I was warned about and mentally prepared for. I am telling you now that not everyone would be able to handle Rishekesh. Luckily I am resilient, quick-minded, and easily pleased. I can handle whatever Rishekesh throws at me. Knock on wood.
   I am truly grateful Rajesh was willing to play tour guide and help us navigate our way to a safe starting point for our walk to the hotel. We would have never even made it to the bus without him, and I need to use these experiences to become fluent in the art of Indian transportation. When Rajesh left, I realized it was the first time Greg and I have actually ever been completely alone while here. I hope we are ready for this huge leap of independence and responsibility. I very much feel that we are. We have made our way safely to the hotel. We were not approached by any beggars but must remain vigilant because violent monkeys wander the streets. We passed many shops and I think I will accomplish most of my shopping here tomorrow.
   We booked a cab for 4:30am tomorrow. It will take us to the Kuja Puri Temple, which is high up enough to see snowcaps on the mountains as the sun rises. This sounds too beautiful to pass up. We just ate in the restaurant in the hotel, and I don't think I've ever been so happy to eat a meal before. Most of the menu was not Indian, and they even served Coca-Cola! It is a pretty nice restaurant and extremely cheap by American standards, as is everything else in India. We both order pita with hummus, pasta with red mushroom sauce, and garlic cheese naan. Everything was exquisite, and I'm overjoyed and relieved to report that I do not have any resulting stomach issues thus far. My body is officially on good terms with food from the Indian restaurant, as is my mind. Such good terms that I am going to get a Nutella crepe tomorrow and explore my food preferences later on in the day. Although I will most likely order pineapple pizza when we take Rajesh out to dinner tomorrow. We found out that the general tipping rate in India is 10-15%. As someone who usually tips over 20%, this is hard for me to comply with. The bills are so cheap that an extra 5% in tip won't affect me at all. Greg hates the idea of tipping so much and convinced me that since Indians are usually such a humble people, it is best to tip around 15%. Truthfully I would have tipped 20% had I carried smaller bills, but I'll let Greg think that I now see the light and just tip more than he realizes in the future.
   I am pained to admit that I wrote a major lie in a past journal entry. I found out today that I never saw nor stood near a leopard in Patti. Dr. Paul and Rajesh were playing a joke on us. They really are marvelous actors, in all honesty. The animal and shadow we saw was a dog. Apparently a real leopard would have killed us on the spot, or so they say. Whatever. I'm just upset I wasn't near a real leopard. At least we still have Corbett! I am really excited for tomorrow for reasons involving food and shopping, two of my favorite things EVER! Rishekesh, so far, seems to be a fantastic weekend jaunt.