I am in the infancy of my career in public health. I am yet to finish my post graduate studies in Christian medical college, Vellore in the Community health department. My current work carries me frequently to rural and sometimes to the tribal pockets of the South Indian state of Tamil Nadu. The experiences so far have been enriching and have made me look at life with a wider perspective than before.
On the tribal front, In the Jawadhi hills of Tiruvanamalai district, transitions are happening. We can see the traditional mud and thatched huts in the remote hamlets, but we can also see a lot of them opting for the government scheme of concrete pukka houses. As we drive uphill for our peripheral clinics; we can see young tribal men zoom down in their brand new motorbikes.
Most people here take long to seek healthcare for their medical problems, babies are born at home, despite efforts from the healthcare teams. Their ideas of life, living and death are different from most people on the plains. Their laws on marriage are different as well. The girl gets to choose her man in a fair that happens on an annual basis. Most are shy, innocent and speak a different dialect of Tamil. They worship nature and respect animals. The green, blue, calm hamlets have people who don’t fight with each other to be seen first by the doctor who visits them, but smilingly nudge each other to go first. Now, that’s a rarity! You wouldn’t see that down here, would you? People there are not pressed for time; they are not in a hurry, its relaxing to be up there. And yet, because they are human, some of them suffer from deadly, fatal illnesses. Healthcare has been offered to these people, but it may take quite a while before there’s a tertiary care center up there.
I come back from up in the clouds, downhill. When I step out from my reverie and return to the “real world” of the plains, which are well equipped with technology and “civilized” people, I realize that the green hills have left a lasting impression. I return home, to the hustle bustle of our base hospital in Vellore. After a long day’s work, just like any other ‘normal’ youngster in her late 20s; I log onto the internet. It’s amazing how the internet connects millions and shortens distances. It’s easy to take technology for granted, but we need to remember that there was a time when messages took days to be delivered.
I log in to my Facebook account, and see different people doing different things. Some, having the times of their lives. People are traveling, seeing the world, partying, getting married, having children, living in different continents. I would consider most of these people a subset of urban /metropolitan lifestyle. These are very different worlds. The urban world is full of glitz, glamour, technology, gadgets and a lot of other things; in contrast to the green tribal hills of Jawadhi hills.
If the world is a colorful spectrum, I see myself and the tiny bubble around me to be midway, in the orange zone (Why is that? I don’t know, just feel like I belong in the orange zone). There are two ends of the huge spectrum (are they really the ends? I am not sure of that as well). One end is up there in the hills of Jawadhi, among hamlets, cattle and tonnes of fresh custard apples. The other end is in my virtual urban world, consisting of people so far away from this end, that they most probably constitute the other end!