Seaside clinic, Vaalinookum

August 29, 2012 

I regret that I never finished this post. I took a few moments to add some things and even then, it is woefully inadequate. Hopefully, on my next trip I can be much more on top of the news!

February 2011

We left Madurai at seven in the morning.  My guide had advised me that it was a two and a half hour trip.  After, riding three buses and a motorbike we arrived at the seaside village, five hours later.  I was exhausted, hot and dusty when I arrived but have to say that the journey was quite spectacular as far as scenery goes, especially the last hour on the motorbike.

We switched buses in Paramakudi, and it was there that I realized that there were no foreigners.  There were numerous curious glances at me but certainly nothing hostile.  Still I was very grateful for the presence of my guide.  It was that point on that it was clear that we would be going deeper into the remote regions of India's vast countryside.

There is something magical about this land.  It is like the country is oblivious to any other sense of time or existence but their own. Farmers harvest their crops in the middle of the roads, mainly rice and spices. It was explained to me that that is the only flat surface with which to sift the grain from the stems.  The aroma of coriander wafts in and out as we pass them.  Herds of goats amble along. And even the buses themselves travel at a pace that seems to say, "we will get there when get there". 

Of all the days that I have been in India, this day really struck a chord in me.  Although, I have been learning about the mission of Barefoot Acupuncturists for days now, it wasn't until this day that I truly, fully understood what Walter is hoping to accomplish.  The people of this village are so far removed from much of anything outside a 20 mile radius.  There are hospitals or medical centers that are provided in each area, but it is rare that a doctor comes to visit.  Sometimes nurses are sent, but even then they are scarce.  More often then not, an assistant of some sort arrives, and they are not properly trained. 

The village of Vaalinookum is beautiful and just a short walk from the seaside.  When I first laid eyes on it my heart did a little leap.  I fantasized about how simple life could be if daily it was shared with people I loved and my eyes could rest on such  surroundings.  However, I'm sure that the life here is far from idyllic. The people of Vaalinookum are very poor.  The main source of income is from fishing.  At one point, it did provide a fairly decent living,  However, much was destroyed in the early 1990's when a large tsunami hit the area.  Some work has been done to restore living conditions for the people, such as government built homes but recovery is painfully slow. They are not able to travel far as much is done on foot and many chores keep them home.

Every where I go, I have seen repeatedly how the effect of the two main religions of India (Hindus and Muslims and to some degree, Christians) impact the local people.  In this village, most of the people are Muslims.  While that may not say a lot for those us who live in fairly educated and tolerant countries, it says a lot for this village of less than 5,000 people.  The main area, where the clinic also is located, is resided by the Muslims.  Off to the side closer to the sea, is another smaller cluster of houses and those people are Hindus.  In Mumbai and in Madurai, most of the patients are Hindus, therefore it was interesting to observe the manners of the Muslims in this village.  The women are quite shy and reserved.  The traditional garb of burkas is worn and while the weather was clear in the high eighties, they were still covered from head to toe.

Ninety percent of the patients that we saw that day were women.  The men that did come were elderly.  There were a number of young women who were not much more than twenty that were brought by their mothers.  It was the mothers that were imploring us to help their daughters conceive.

I was immediately humbled and overjoyed by the reception that we received by the villagers.  Even though it was difficult to convey that one treatment was not going to create miracles, I could see how much people seemed to appreciate being heard and given some hope as to what the clinic could possibly offer.  As I mentioned earlier, these people's lives revolve around a radius that is limited by the ability to travel on foot or bicycle.  And what was available through the government was so ineffectual.   Seeing this village and the remoteness of it with my own eyes, made me come to fully understand the implications of what  this project really means. To be able to teach the local women to do acupuncture so that they could help their own people would vastly improve the quality of their lives. 

This clinic shared a courtyard with a children's school.  I fell in love with these children. They were quite curious as to what we were doing and came to stare at us.  I'll never forget seeing them with their clear open gaze and the smiles that came so easily.  I took time to take photos and a short a video in which I proceeded to show them to much giggling and fascination.  Again, I am reminded of the simplicity of their lives and how happy they appear even with such glaring lack of any sort of technology my children take much for granted.  They had simple books and the classroom lacked windows, doors and even some of the walls were open.  I was also struck with the difference in the appearance of these children compared to the ones in Mumbai.  Their white shirts and clothing were immaculate. Their facial features were symmetrical (eyes were even, teeth were white and full, skin was smooth, and cheeks were round, robust).  I could only attribute it to the diet that was mainly fish and local vegetables which was in stark contrast to the starchy processed foods that is readily available in the city.  Also, the living conditions in the village was much cleaner even though there was still the ubiquitous garbage that seems to plague the whole of India.  

I was thoroughly charmed by this woman who made lunch for the children every day. 

This woman was a patient.  I thought her sunglasses were odd here so far out in the middle of nowhere. 

Barefoot Acupuncturists clinic... Looking back as I was leaving. 

I added this photo of the water well.  Every day the women and children walked here to get their water in which they would use for everything from cooking to washing to cleaning. 

Again, I am amazed at how much I take for granted.  Something that is so abundant in the U.S. and that we waste with no regards to how precious this commodity is in much of the rest of the world. 

Looking at the beauty of these people and their surroundings, it would break my heart to see them end up in the slums of Mumbai.  And yet millions of people migrate there in hopes of a better life.

It was shortly after I came back that I was told that the clinic never made it.  It was with a heavy heart to learn of this news.  Opening clinics like these require more man power and funding that we just didn't have at that time. Still, I was very grateful to get a glimpse of the vision that we hope to have someday.