Report of 26 Aug '08
Hello from the Banyan -
I just had to request that the staff turn down the sambrani (frankincense) that is routinely lit to keep down nasty smells. The smoke burned my eyes, and I had to bellow to someone, who quickly complied. Other staff came by with teary eyes, also, and it was actually quite funny.
The B's 15th anniversary is tomorrow. Vandana and Vaishnavi, the founders, are 37 and 36 this year. Vaish is on sabbatical, and Vandana plans to fast tomorrow to draw attention to the negative depiction of mental illness in the media. These plans haven't crystallised yet, but as with everything at the B, it will be done spontaneously, at the last minute, and very effectively.
It is nice to be back! My favorite "paati," (grandmother or older patient) has not been herself. Normally, Ms. A's eyes will smile before her mouth does, and she will gab for a bit, about what she has eaten, or other chitchat, before moving on. She does not do any work, as other residents must, but all are tolerant of residents who behave thus, to a point. Well, Ms. A does not smile or chat or whack the employees who indulgently tease her. One of the best lessons I learnt from the geriatricians at St. V, the Drs. Healey, was that illness can present as altered mental status. I've done a bunch of blood tests, and will see the results today.
The men and I carried installments of chocolate for the staff and residents of the B, and I was thanked mightily for the same. Chocolate can certainly work wonders. Scott's uncle gave me a couple of boxes of candy he obtained from a friend, and they are good Swiss chocolate bars - yummy!!
I went with my sister, Anu, last week to see her house in Bangalore. It is beautiful. She has accomplished a coup with this building. Real estate is staggeringly expensive here, and so are building costs. Scott and I rent, and I hope someday to afford an apartment. After we saw the house, Anu and I stopped by our widowed sister-in-law's place and had dinner with Susan and our niece, Sanjana. Susan manages life very well, overall; widowhood is not easy. It was a nice day, and I am grateful that my sibs and I talk to each other. We had breakfast with my brother, Vinu, and his family early last week and that was also a treat.
I went to Madurai at the end of the week and saw my parents. That was revelationary! My mother stated she heard that the Banyan was dirty and full of Aids patients, that she cannot imagine buying any products that our residents make, and does not want me to work there solely: she wants me to set up private practice and make lots of money. This refrain continued for quite a while. I lost it about halfway through, mentioned that the Banyan was cleaner than my parents' house, that even if it were full of Aids patients (we have 4), I would buy their wares and continue working there, and that I was thunderstruck at this snobbery from the woman who gave birth to me. Then my father started in (he was drunk at the time) about the types of locums I accept in the U.S. and that, after all, they were with the uninsured and indigent; I couldn't quite grasp the tone of this statement, and then realised it was his own snobbery at play, that I ought to take care of the rich and famous in the U.S. Wow. I did my share of yelling at my father, also, esp when he stated that he could not bear the sight of the mentally ill women at the B being herded along. I asked him what his Bible said about the meek; "Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth." He did not answer.
It strikes me that, in my experience, it is church-going people who renege routinely on their promises, and conveniently forget the teachings of the Bible when it suits them. The number of women in the U.S. who wear white to their weddings, the number of men who rail against homosexuality as being anti-Bible while living with their girlfriends, the number of people who promise to get their entire church involved in helping the Banyan and then forget about it the minute I leave the premises - all these are eye-openers. I stopped attending church in the U.S. after crowds of people came up to me almost every Sunday and asked if I'd host a mission trip; in all honesty, it seemed like they wanted a safe haven in an exotic land, and any idea of doing mission work was secondary at best, or tertiary if you consider all the shopping they wanted to do.
It escapes me why my parents want me to make lots of money, esp when they eschewed it themselves. Their conversation does revolve around the income of their junior colleagues, and I imagine retirement and inflation in India are combining to cause them to pinch their pennies, and that they do not want this state of affairs for their children. I told them I wanted to work only part-time until my sons and nephew, Sudhir (my late brother Manu's son), were safely in college or settled in careers. Adolescence is a turbulent time, and it requires a lot of my time and resources to handle it.
Unw, from the land of jasmine and frankincense -
R
I just had to request that the staff turn down the sambrani (frankincense) that is routinely lit to keep down nasty smells. The smoke burned my eyes, and I had to bellow to someone, who quickly complied. Other staff came by with teary eyes, also, and it was actually quite funny.
The B's 15th anniversary is tomorrow. Vandana and Vaishnavi, the founders, are 37 and 36 this year. Vaish is on sabbatical, and Vandana plans to fast tomorrow to draw attention to the negative depiction of mental illness in the media. These plans haven't crystallised yet, but as with everything at the B, it will be done spontaneously, at the last minute, and very effectively.
It is nice to be back! My favorite "paati," (grandmother or older patient) has not been herself. Normally, Ms. A's eyes will smile before her mouth does, and she will gab for a bit, about what she has eaten, or other chitchat, before moving on. She does not do any work, as other residents must, but all are tolerant of residents who behave thus, to a point. Well, Ms. A does not smile or chat or whack the employees who indulgently tease her. One of the best lessons I learnt from the geriatricians at St. V, the Drs. Healey, was that illness can present as altered mental status. I've done a bunch of blood tests, and will see the results today.
The men and I carried installments of chocolate for the staff and residents of the B, and I was thanked mightily for the same. Chocolate can certainly work wonders. Scott's uncle gave me a couple of boxes of candy he obtained from a friend, and they are good Swiss chocolate bars - yummy!!
I went with my sister, Anu, last week to see her house in Bangalore. It is beautiful. She has accomplished a coup with this building. Real estate is staggeringly expensive here, and so are building costs. Scott and I rent, and I hope someday to afford an apartment. After we saw the house, Anu and I stopped by our widowed sister-in-law's place and had dinner with Susan and our niece, Sanjana. Susan manages life very well, overall; widowhood is not easy. It was a nice day, and I am grateful that my sibs and I talk to each other. We had breakfast with my brother, Vinu, and his family early last week and that was also a treat.
I went to Madurai at the end of the week and saw my parents. That was revelationary! My mother stated she heard that the Banyan was dirty and full of Aids patients, that she cannot imagine buying any products that our residents make, and does not want me to work there solely: she wants me to set up private practice and make lots of money. This refrain continued for quite a while. I lost it about halfway through, mentioned that the Banyan was cleaner than my parents' house, that even if it were full of Aids patients (we have 4), I would buy their wares and continue working there, and that I was thunderstruck at this snobbery from the woman who gave birth to me. Then my father started in (he was drunk at the time) about the types of locums I accept in the U.S. and that, after all, they were with the uninsured and indigent; I couldn't quite grasp the tone of this statement, and then realised it was his own snobbery at play, that I ought to take care of the rich and famous in the U.S. Wow. I did my share of yelling at my father, also, esp when he stated that he could not bear the sight of the mentally ill women at the B being herded along. I asked him what his Bible said about the meek; "Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth." He did not answer.
It strikes me that, in my experience, it is church-going people who renege routinely on their promises, and conveniently forget the teachings of the Bible when it suits them. The number of women in the U.S. who wear white to their weddings, the number of men who rail against homosexuality as being anti-Bible while living with their girlfriends, the number of people who promise to get their entire church involved in helping the Banyan and then forget about it the minute I leave the premises - all these are eye-openers. I stopped attending church in the U.S. after crowds of people came up to me almost every Sunday and asked if I'd host a mission trip; in all honesty, it seemed like they wanted a safe haven in an exotic land, and any idea of doing mission work was secondary at best, or tertiary if you consider all the shopping they wanted to do.
It escapes me why my parents want me to make lots of money, esp when they eschewed it themselves. Their conversation does revolve around the income of their junior colleagues, and I imagine retirement and inflation in India are combining to cause them to pinch their pennies, and that they do not want this state of affairs for their children. I told them I wanted to work only part-time until my sons and nephew, Sudhir (my late brother Manu's son), were safely in college or settled in careers. Adolescence is a turbulent time, and it requires a lot of my time and resources to handle it.
Unw, from the land of jasmine and frankincense -
R
posted by Renu Weiss at
10:19 PM
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