India has come and been and gone. It was a memorable visit.
The heat, the dust, the poverty and the dirt in some of the provincial towns seem shocking to western eyes. Once feels helpless at the enormity of the task which has to be faced to improve the standard of living for millions of ordinary people living there. If there is to be change then it must come from government level. Healthcare, improved sanitation, reduction of pollution and disease need national solutions.
While I and perhaps others like me batter officialdom with words, there are other purer souls who simply get on with the job that they can do in the hope and in the belief that they are making a difference, be it only a small difference.
The Rama Krishna Mission Hospital at Vrindaban is one clear example of this. In an unobtrusive way they go about the daily task of caring for the poor and supplying medical help for those who arrive on their doorstep. Clearly it was unconditional help. I saw Buddhists, Hindus, Christians and surely Muslims ( although they are not great in number on the town) arriving for help. As I watched from the balcony of the guesthouse I could see cycle-rickshaws arriving with very sick looking occupants, auto-rickshaws disgorging men or women carrying small children and many arriving on foot, some with obvious injuries others who would rest once, perhaps twice before reaching the large front entrance.
Inside the front door there were queues. People waited patiently and for the most part in silence with far greater tolerance than I have sen at outpatient clinics in the UK. There were of course no deadlines to be met, no hospital targets to be achieved. Patients waited quietly in hope and with a sense of trust that they would be listened to and helped.
Beyond the bustle and movement of that front entrance, I saw what one might have expected in any hospital lin the west. There were wards. Those who were in bed had few of the trappings around them that we see in English hospitals. No pseudo MFI furniture and definitely no television. It was more sparse, but it was clean and the nurses looked spick and span in their white uniforms. There were clinics. Eyes, an ENT unit, cardiology, renal care, pediatrics, xray…the lot. I was even allowed to tour the pathology lab, the operating theatres and was eventually taken to my hosts private domain – the hospital store.
It was good. What was missing by way of modern equipment was made up for by the enthusiasm and determination of the staff. They were focused. They were all working hard in temperatures of 37 degrees…er air conditioning? Not really – not that I noticed. The building was cool but it was solid and well-built to withstand extremes of temperature. The doctors seemed well qualified and caring for those under their charge and I know from staying for a week at the guest house that doctors came from elsewhere to perform surgery or hold clinics on a voluntary basis.
My understanding is that the Rama Krishna Mission is a non religious organisation whose rationale is service. Service to others. Not everyone was a specialist. One young man, originally from Germany, an admissions officer was given a day out with us when we visited Mathura. He has lived at the hospital for a number of years doing unpaid work. Another lady, a retired anesthetist, seemed to be a permanent resident. She continues with her life’s work now in a voluntary capacity.
The hospital gives. It gives freely and generously to all who appear there. It is a place of healing, tolerance and dedication. Most of all it gives hope and life to those who live in Vrindaban. Ask any rickshaw driver, any taxi driver if he knows where the Rama Krishna Mission is – “You mean the hospital?” he will say. “You wanna go?”
I certainly ”go” with it and I hope some of my readers will also.
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