A vague clue from a trusted friend pointed me to a Panchkarma center in Kerala. At first inquiry though I was told it was a Geriatric Hospital. However, following some detective work by my local friends I found that this particular institute happened to become an official India Government Hospital (Respect!) but as such, does not accept foreign patients anymore.
The National Research Center for Panchkarma at Shornur Jn. listed 2 names as overseeing doctors. Over the phone, Dr. Nair, who had administered the hospital in its previous form, offered the treatments at an Ayurvedic hospital run by his wife, some 15km from the "Geriatric" hospital, where I would be under his care. He could not say exactly how much time I needed there without seeing me first. What can I say? Not knowing for how long and at what cost I went for it. I informed him that I will be there the day after tomorrow (still needed to get train tickets).
My hosts, bless their souls, are Christian, have seen the world some but still can't get anywhere on time. Indian to the bone. We arrived at the Margao train station at a quarter to 9pm, 15 minutes before the scheduled departure and I had to contend with a 'General class' ticket as all Sleepers and 1st class were sold out. My hosts were horrified at the prospect and I had to reassure them that it was all part of the 'experience'. "OK", they relented, but warned me: "Not to try this on the train to Mumbai". I made a mental note.
Waiting at the platform I struck up a conversation with a middle-aged man who was waiting for the same train. He seemed to prefer the words "too much" as they came up often in our conversation. When he learned I was from Israel he said: "Ooh, too much trouble, Jews Muslims fighting". When he talked about his own people he said: "Oh, too much religion, shanti all the time, not work". I mentioned my appreciation of the Indian family and its unity and he retorted: "Ah, too many children, have to marry them, too much money. Me I only have 1 child, is enough". I mentioned the Maha Kumbh taking place at Allahabad and he gave me a knowing smile: "Yes, everybody..." and with that he stopped talking, rigidly stretched his arms down to his sides, raised his head, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Funny guy.
I wanted to join him for the trip but as the train pulled into the station he suddenly changed into a man who was 'too much' in a hurry, boarding the train even before it came to a full stop. Being such a knowledgeable person on Indian and international affairs, I took a queue from him and and clambered aboard as quickly as my backpack allowed.
I managed to find a single seat in a crowded car that filled almost instantly with passengers and settled in for the 1 hour trip. Vendors rushed aboard and called out their products: "chaichaichaichai", "newspaper", samosasamosa", etc. They worked and moved quickly dispensing chai to a customer with one hand while fishing out change for another from their shirt pocket. They had to, since the train was going to move in a few minutes and at 5 rupees a tea they had to cover as many cars as possible.
The train left the station promptly an hour and a half late.
Later, after got underway, I joined an old man smoking a Bidi cigarette next to the open car door. Next to us a couple had tied a large cloth between the top bunks, hammock style, and placed their baby in it.The baby was sound asleep, rocked by the steady rhythm of the train. Even mice seem to have found their space under the carriage as I saw one scuttle across the floor and another peeping out from a hole in the floor.
People slept in any position possible with family members often on top of each other sideways, even sleeping on the grimy floor between opposite benches.
I had brought an additional sweatshirt and Longi which, draped over my shoulders and head, protected me from the night chill of the moving train, even allowing me some moments of sleep.
From time to time some passenger or another got up to the rusty car door, opened it and stood in the night breeze. In hindsight travelling General Class may be safer than in sleepers, where sometimes the low number of passengers makes them vulnerable to theft.
We crossed into Kerala at around 3AM but it was pitch black outside. Only at first light did Kerala reveal itself in a misty fog. It looked a lot like the Goan mainland with dense hilly jungles and endless rows of coconut trees.
Amazingly, despite the late departure, we arrived on schedule at 8am, shortening the scheduled trip by an hour and a half.
A 20 minute rickshaw drive later I arrived at the "Ayush Ayurveda Hospital".
The National Research Center for Panchkarma at Shornur Jn. listed 2 names as overseeing doctors. Over the phone, Dr. Nair, who had administered the hospital in its previous form, offered the treatments at an Ayurvedic hospital run by his wife, some 15km from the "Geriatric" hospital, where I would be under his care. He could not say exactly how much time I needed there without seeing me first. What can I say? Not knowing for how long and at what cost I went for it. I informed him that I will be there the day after tomorrow (still needed to get train tickets).
My hosts, bless their souls, are Christian, have seen the world some but still can't get anywhere on time. Indian to the bone. We arrived at the Margao train station at a quarter to 9pm, 15 minutes before the scheduled departure and I had to contend with a 'General class' ticket as all Sleepers and 1st class were sold out. My hosts were horrified at the prospect and I had to reassure them that it was all part of the 'experience'. "OK", they relented, but warned me: "Not to try this on the train to Mumbai". I made a mental note.
Waiting at the platform I struck up a conversation with a middle-aged man who was waiting for the same train. He seemed to prefer the words "too much" as they came up often in our conversation. When he learned I was from Israel he said: "Ooh, too much trouble, Jews Muslims fighting". When he talked about his own people he said: "Oh, too much religion, shanti all the time, not work". I mentioned my appreciation of the Indian family and its unity and he retorted: "Ah, too many children, have to marry them, too much money. Me I only have 1 child, is enough". I mentioned the Maha Kumbh taking place at Allahabad and he gave me a knowing smile: "Yes, everybody..." and with that he stopped talking, rigidly stretched his arms down to his sides, raised his head, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Funny guy.
I wanted to join him for the trip but as the train pulled into the station he suddenly changed into a man who was 'too much' in a hurry, boarding the train even before it came to a full stop. Being such a knowledgeable person on Indian and international affairs, I took a queue from him and and clambered aboard as quickly as my backpack allowed.
I managed to find a single seat in a crowded car that filled almost instantly with passengers and settled in for the 1 hour trip. Vendors rushed aboard and called out their products: "chaichaichaichai", "newspaper", samosasamosa", etc. They worked and moved quickly dispensing chai to a customer with one hand while fishing out change for another from their shirt pocket. They had to, since the train was going to move in a few minutes and at 5 rupees a tea they had to cover as many cars as possible.
The train left the station promptly an hour and a half late.
Later, after got underway, I joined an old man smoking a Bidi cigarette next to the open car door. Next to us a couple had tied a large cloth between the top bunks, hammock style, and placed their baby in it.The baby was sound asleep, rocked by the steady rhythm of the train. Even mice seem to have found their space under the carriage as I saw one scuttle across the floor and another peeping out from a hole in the floor.
People slept in any position possible with family members often on top of each other sideways, even sleeping on the grimy floor between opposite benches.
I had brought an additional sweatshirt and Longi which, draped over my shoulders and head, protected me from the night chill of the moving train, even allowing me some moments of sleep.
From time to time some passenger or another got up to the rusty car door, opened it and stood in the night breeze. In hindsight travelling General Class may be safer than in sleepers, where sometimes the low number of passengers makes them vulnerable to theft.
We crossed into Kerala at around 3AM but it was pitch black outside. Only at first light did Kerala reveal itself in a misty fog. It looked a lot like the Goan mainland with dense hilly jungles and endless rows of coconut trees.
Amazingly, despite the late departure, we arrived on schedule at 8am, shortening the scheduled trip by an hour and a half.
A 20 minute rickshaw drive later I arrived at the "Ayush Ayurveda Hospital".
No comments:
Post a Comment