In Closing

(Katherine)

For some reason, this final post has been most difficult to craft. In fact, it has been about 4 months since I returned from India! I have traveled to Africa, again to Asia, and twice to New York since then. Despite the time passed, I would like to share some reflections on what I learned in India and what I did for the last few days of my time there without Katie. 

At Nav Jeevan by myself, I continued my work at the school being a part of the community and a caretaker for the children. My teaching role continued and I spent significant amounts of time with the children after school. The older kids completed exams at various times and our schedule was wacky! 

Leaving Nav Jeevan and saying goodbye to my 100+ brothers and sisters proved very painful. One of the most common questions people have asked me since my return is, "Have you talked to the children? Do they miss you? How are they doing?" My answer begins with a sign since I do indeed miss them. But, yes, I have heard from them. In the middle of the night about a week after returning from India, I received a phone call around 2AM. For some reason, I answered and heard a little voice, Shamoul, greet me. Tears sprang to my eyes during our short conversation of which I did not understand much. But, he did ask, "Are you crying for me?" I barely had a chance to respond as Shamoul said he was crying for me. 

In closing, I would like to tell a few stories about three children, Nikita, Ravi, and Deepali, who really inspired me during my time living with them at NJS. All of the children, each of whom addressed me as “Sister” have helped me to reaffirm my passion for meaningful service and leadership in the medical field. Their smiles and kindnesses will stay with me forever, and they will continue to be reminders of my reasons for wanting to help make a difference that really matters in the world. 

Firstly, Nikita, a 15 year old girls studying in 9^th grade, wants to be a flight attendant for Air India. Never having been on a plane, Nikita dreams of flight in order to escape the confines of Nagpur where she lives in NJS with her sister, Savita. Nikita’s intelligence has recently blossomed, pushing her to the front of her class and giving her the ability to pass the 9^th grade exams to prepare for 10^th grade. However, Nikita told me that she knows when she graduates her family who put her in NJS will have a marriage arranged for her. She will have no option but to comply, so she is not disowned completely. 

Secondly, Ravi, a 6 or 7 year old boy (his birthdate is unknown) who attends NJS with his older sisters, did not know any English and barely spoke Hindi when Katie and I arrived in Nagpur in January. The teachers of the school thought him too upsetting to the order of the classroom and would not give him the attention he needed to be integrated with peers. Thus, we helped him for two weeks of school tutoring him everyday to learn the English alphabet. His first accomplishment, spelling his name, made us overjoyed for him, for his persistence and drive. Finally, Ravi was able to be integrated into the first grade, and became the top of his class in mathematics. Yet, Ravi still struggles in Hindi and I fear that no one will ever notice, a thing very common among poor Indian students in NGO schools. 

Thirdly, Deepali, a 6 year old tribal girl who was brought to school by her uncle, became like my own baby while I lived in Nagpur. Having gotten a blister on her palm from her favorite playground equipment, the monkey bars, she popped the blister and caused herself an infection that quickly raged throughout her body. When antibiotics could not control it, the Wardens and I took Deepali for surgery to lyse and drain her hand. From that day, in which Deepali clung to me like a koala, until the day I left Nagpur, Deepali and I became inseparable. This little girl, who did not speak English, began calling me, an American volunteer who did not speak Hindi and had strange customs, “mama.” Knowing I would be leaving her in a few short months, allowing Deepali to love me as a “mama” was difficult at first, as was returning her love accordingly. But, in allowing myself to learn from her and to love her, I perhaps learned the most important lesson a Posey Global could teach: passion for service stems from love, that which is unconditional, for without love, service to others is meaningless. I hope to continue sharing this lesson through my words and actions on Alma's campus and throughout my career and personal life.

Thank you very much for following Katie and me throughout our journey. To the Posey Family, the benefactors of our scholarship, Kiran, Roger, Anita, and all at Nav Jeevan, and our families, thank you for your support. 

Shamoul and Deepali

Nikkita

Ravi and I

Kolkata/Calcutta :)

When Katie and I left Darjeeling, we finally parted ways after spending two full months together in Nagpur at Nav Jeevan Sanstha. Katie’s visa was ending, so she traveled back to the USA through Mumbia via plane. I on the other hand traveled back to Nagpur via train through Kolkata. While Katie and I were sad to end our time together, we will meet back in New York in a few weeks with our Alma College Model UN team for the annual National Model UN Conference.

Howrah Bridge

After an overnight train to Kolkata, I stepped out onto the platform into the past. The train station in Kolkata was filled with old-time yellow taxi cabs, waiting for a rider to zoom into the traffic. The rising sun lit up the dust all around me, floating through the air. Being only 5:00AM, I decided to wait a bit in the railway station. My plan unfolded as I called Dr. Amitsava Biswas, a friend of Dr. Raju Wilkinson. Dr. Biswas is the director of a renowned eye clinic in Kolkata. He kindly arranged for my time in Kolkata, and I was to meet him at his office across the city around 8:00AM. I first perused the Times of India, used the sometimes working free wifi in the station, and then found a taxi. With an app called Here Maps on my smartphone (Thank you Katie…) which uses the phone’s GPS to pin point your location on the map and give you directions, I guided the taxi to the eye care clinic.

Inside, Nurse Molly and the clinic staff guided me to the clinic’s private recovery room where I was allowed to take a shower, rest, relax and have breakfast. After meeting with Dr. Biswas, I learned that the staff would be spending the day with 7 patients from small, impoverished villages outside Kolkata that lack access to eye care. Each needed an eye surgery that one of the clinic doctors would provide free of charge. After helping Nurse Molly take and record the patients’ vitals, I took a nap before lunch. During the night, I had not slept much due to not wanting to miss my station in Kolkata!

After a nice lunch in the clinic kitchen with Dr. Biswas, I joined the doctors and nurses in the operating theater to observe surgeries. The patients all suffered from very advanced cataracts that needed to be cleared from the eye. The doctor would then insert a new, synthetic lens. According to one of the surgeons (both of whom I watched were female), the surgery she was performing, small incision cataract surgery, is no longer common in the United States. Lasers are used in the United States as people generally do not have such advanced cataracts as to require full removal. Two patients also were experiencing an overgrowth of the conjunctiva onto the iris and lens of the eye. The surgeon said that normally she would excise the conjunctiva affected and replace it with a piece of conjunctive tissue from the other side of the eye. Since the patients were seeking free treatment though and did not have means to return to the clinic for follow up, the best she could do for them was to remove the obstruction and hope for it not to recur.

Mother Teresa's place of rest, adorned with flowers and a Rosary

After a nice night of sleep, I spent the time before my train departed seeing two of Kolkata’s most famous sights: the Mother’s Home and Victoria. Mother’s Home is probably better known as the home and tomb of Mother Teresa. It serves as a home for Roman Catholic Novices and a memorial in Kolkata for the service Blessed Mother Teresa did for the poor and to inspire charity throughout the world. When I entered, two novices greeted me and welcomed me. They made sure I stopped to see both Mother’s place of rest, right inside one of her own, simple chapels, and the small museum of her life and work. Mother Teresa kept a map that was on display in the museum. It seemed to me the best representation of all of her legacy as it had lines from Kolkata to places all over the world where she hoped to save souls and assist the poor. The United States was no exception.

Victoria Memorial

The second place I visited briefly on the way to the train station was Victoria Memorial. A great, imposing marble palace built in the early 1900s during the British rule of Calcutta, Victoria Memorial has been taken over by India’s Ministry of Culture as a museum. British Viceroy of India, George Curzon, built Victoria as a testament to Queen Victoria of Britain upon her death in January of 1901.  

Guess who was waiting at Nav Jeevan for me?!

Varanasi!

Dashashwamedh Ghat

For the past week during the Hindu festival of Holi, Katie and I have been traveling across India! We have enjoyed time in two cities, Varanasi and Darjeeling.

Red is for welcome

Setting out from Nagpur by train, we arrived in Varanasi after one night. Our train, thankfully, was right on time and we had no trouble finding our accommodations called, Zostel Hostel. Zostel, we learned, is a chain of backpacker/hipster hostels with locations throughout India. It specializes in catering to foreigners for short stays and offering local guides for the city and groups for touring. Right away we learned that Zostel really did offer just what we needed, when the guys at the desk gave us a map to find breakfast (we checked in early in the morning) at a place called “Brown Bread Bakery!” If you know Katie and me, you know that anything with “bakery” in the title is perfect.

After a great, relaxing time at the bakery, which was really just a restaurant with nice bread, Katie and I meandered the streets of Old Varanasi. Much like Delhi, India’s capital, Varanasi has a new portion and an old portion. We stayed in the middle where the two sections mix, and found that New Varanasi was preferable for sleeping and getting around, while Old Varanasi held the winding, filthy, colorful streets leading to the Ganges River and the ghats.

Varanasi is one of 7 holy cities in India for people of the Hindu religious tradition. It is situated on the River Ganges, or Ganga, and on one side has many sets of steps called ghats. Pilgrims from all over India come to the ghats, only exposed in the dry (non-monsoon) seasons, to bathe, wash their clothes, swim, and pay homage to the gods. Each ghat has a specific meaning and dedication. For example, each evening on Dashashwamedh Ghat, there is a ceremony by Hindu holy people to give thanks for the River Ganga.

During the dry season, the Ganges River seems like a stream, but the monsoon season causes its waters to rise over the ghats so they aren't visible at all. 

The most famous ghats, however, are called the Burning Ghats, where Hindus believe bodies should be burned and their ashes floated into the river. A portion of Ghandi’s ashes were celebrated in this way, as are countless other men and women each year. Eating lassi in a famous shop called “Blue Lassi,” Katie and I witnessed the parade of a crowd of men taking the body of their loved one to the river side on a stretcher. This was a common site, but only men go with the body. We learned there are laws banning women from attending burnings as the practice of sati (a women throwing herself on the funeral pyre of her husband/loved one) became a concern.

The Nepali Temple is the only temple with wood (mango) on its facade in Varanasi. 

On a tour of the ghats from the river, our guide mentioned that there is a perpetual fire, at least one body always burning, on these burning ghats. Interestingly though, only a small distinction in the castes of Hinduism exists after death. People of lowest caste are burned closest to the river and highest farthest, with middle caste burned in between. For people who have no family and are still hoping to be burned on the ghats, a tenement loams nearby in which they can stay. Frankly, one local told us people go to the tenement to die to ensure their place on the burning ghat with their brothers and sisters of Hinduism. Some people, though, are not burned at all, like the man Katie and I saw floating near the river’s edge with his back in the air.

Katie and I had a private concert of tabla! 

Burning Ghat

A boat ride in the Ganga

Katie and I especially enjoyed Varanasi’s rich temple heritage. From the Monkey Temple, to the Nepali Temple, to one of the oldest Hindu temples in India, Kashi Vishwanath Temple (the Golden Temple), beauty prevailed in many forms. Though we could not enter the Golden Temple as we are not Hindu, we got a look through the gate by combing our way through the line of faithful pilgrims, gripping their cups of milk and strings of flowers and incense with which they would honor their gods. The Nepali temple also proved interesting! When walking there, a small man approached us in a leather jacket, telling us that he would show us the temple. Thinking he desired money, we denied his assistance, until we realized that he was a student of the temple, learning to be a Hindu priest. The Nepali Temple is the only temple in Varanasi made of wood. According to our new friend, it is made of mango wood only from Indian Alphonse mango trees (Alphonse mangoes are famous for their juiciness!). The carvings of the gods on the temple uniquely depict what our friend called “god yoga” but we later learned (thank you Wikipedia….) were images of the Kama Sutra. Nonetheless, the mango wood, the intricate carvings, and the view of the Ganges from the temple court yard were well worth the time.

Thank you for your support! Read all about Darjeeling in our next post! J  

Temple goers brought flowers, milk, and coconut to honor their gods.

This yogurt is called lassi, topped with bananas, coconut, and pistachio.

Darjeeling, West Bengal

Our favorite place in Darjeeling...the bakery!

Chowrasta Square

Temple pathway on Observatory Hill

This natural cave also held a temple.

The black bear at the zoo!

What an incredible view from our ride on the cable car!

This little darling became our new friend when her parents asked to take our picture with her.

Himalayas calling....

Though train tracks grace the hillsides for the toy train that runs to Darjeeling, pedestrians and cars also share the winding roads.

After only two days, Katie and I decided to take our time reaching Darjeeling. We found a train leaving from an outlying station of Varanasi which had a foreigners’ quota reserved. We were able to get two great seats (beds) for our 15 hour journey. By this time, Katie and I were pretty tired, so sleeping on the train was not a problem. But, as our train was about 8 hours late (!!!!!) we did miss a bit of sleep. In the morning, Katie and I looked across the aisle to discover a little girl about 4 years old staring at us and giggling! She decided that Katie and she should be best friends, so from then to our stop in New Jalpaiguri, they were (while I continued sleeping!). They watched the movie PK on the girl’s father’s laptop, sang the songs together, and enjoyed crackers and fruit together.

When we arrived, Katie and I found a shared jeep in the parking lot on its way to Darjeeling. We began traversing through the small train depot-centered cities, Siliguri and Jalpaiguri, until the hills began to rise. Squat tea fields popped up around us and the jeep lurched through the turns of the road. This lasted for almost 4 hours. Unfortunately, both Katie and I were too carsick to admire the beautiful sunset blanketing the hillsides. Once we arrived, though, darkness had set in and our driver instructed us as to how to reach our hotel from the taxi stand. After a bit of wandering through winding streets and some help from the locals, we found our lodging, Three V Lodge with a total of four rooms, in a beautiful corner of Darjeeling.

Waking in the morning, we realized our stay in the foothills of the Himalayas would be gorgeous. The view from the hotel balcony stunned us into silence! From there we could see a few snow covered peaks, very near to Mt. Everest, in the distance, along with multiple hills crisscrossing the bases. Colorful houses dotted the sides of the hills and small brownish tracks of roads were barely visible. Quickly, we learned that Darjeeling is a very distinct region of India. Part of the State of West Bengal, many people in Darjeeling desire their own state, called Gorkhaland, remaining part of India but with Nepalese, Tibetan, and Chinese influences in their culture. The people of Darjeeling, we were told, are not like the people of the rest of India—they treat women as equals, desire participation in government, desire free enterprise but also a myriad of social services for citizens and tourists, and eat less spicy food! Personally, I think we may have happened upon a critical issue, the treatment of women in India, at a prime time. With International Women’s Day on March 8 and the government of India banning the BBC documentary about a young girl being raped in 2012, the people of Darjeeling seemed restless, yet hopeful for change. Katie mentioned that walking through Chowrasta square of Darjeeling she saw a demonstration by school children of some prayer flags encouraging human rights. This type of art is common in Darjeeling, attesting to the popular sentiment for change.

Aside from the view and the culture, Katie and I hoped to fill our time with tea. Darjeeling is well known for its tea plantations and has tea flavors specific too it, named after the town. Tea tasting at Nathmull’s tea shop provided us an education in tea. In order of bitterness and bold flavor, we tried white tea, green tea, silver tips, and black tea, each with multiple different qualities. Based on the time the tea is picked, tea farmers term it first, second, third, or autumn “flush,” usually collecting about four flushes per year. The first flush consists only of the tips of the topmost leaves on the tea bushes. Its flavor tastes light and has hints of grass. After that, the tea becomes full leaf and has bolder and bolder flavor.

Also famous in Darjeeling are Observatory Hill and the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute and Zoological Park. On Observatory Hill, Katie and I walked through a joint Hindu/Buddhist temple. The beautiful temple was adorned with Buddhist prayer flags of primary colors and several incarnations of the Hindu gods held sway in their own personal enclaves. Each god was kept company by a guard and priest who offered blessings in exchange for monetary offerings. In the zoo, we managed to see red pandas, many types of mountain goat (perhaps to have been expected!), a tiger, snow leopards, black and brown leopards, and many types of birds. The Himalayan Mountaineering Institute, though, proved to be too adventurous for Katie and me. Since we did not plan on trekking or hiking much in Darjeeling, besides what we were required to do to get around, we wandered through the HMI museum with high regard for the mountaineers scaling the dangerous peaks. Displays in the museum consisted of gear used by climbers on treks from as early as the 1920s!

Happy Holi

Happy Holi everyone! Katherine and I are currently traveling during my last week in India. We've been learning what life is like in other parts of this diverse country.

 

Today, Katherine is still recovering from our initial round of sickness a week ago so I had to adventure on my own. I thought I could escape the inevitable paint throwing celebration in the quiet town of Darjeeling but I was wrong. After taking a morning walk skirting the edges of gangs of brightly colored children with hands full of colored powder and quickly dodging down alternative alleys, the boys below caught up with me.

 

 

 

I was trapped between two garden walls. Their eyes lit up when they saw me... One of the smaller boys had mixed his colored powder with water, giving me a slimy green beard. After my continued protests the older boys helped to pry his hands from my face as they moved on to their next victim.

Because now I was marked, other children  joined in the fun splashing me with pinks and yellows! In the end it was great fun. All the locals grinned when they saw my paint colored face and wished me a Happy Holi! The children have a week off school for this celebration so I'm not quite sure when it will be safe to go outside.

 

 

On a more serious note, the town of Darjeeling has really impressed Katherine and I with its commitment to creating a socially aware community. For the Holi celebration a group of school children made posters on many issues women face in development (also one of our Model United Nations topics!). The posters were hung like Nepali prayer flags in the town square so the community could read about human trafficking, domestic violence, and equality.

Maharajbagh Zoo

Today Katie and I went on an adventure to Maharajbagh Zoo in central Nagpur with eight of the smallest students from Nav Jeevan and our kind helper, Asha. After school at 2PM, the children changed their clothes and we rode the school bus to the bus stop. At the bus stop, we boarded the city bus which brought us to the busy heart of Nagpur. Disembarking, Katie, Asha, and I each joined hands with a couple of the children and began our (slow) walk to the entrance, just a few hundred meters from the bus stop.

Once at the gate of the zoo, the children could barely contain their excitement! We were preparing ourselves to see tigers, alligators, and possibly snakes! But, at the gate we were told that the zoo is closed on Mondays so we would not be able to see most of the animals. Though the children felt upset, feelings of happiness quickly replaced the sadness when we realized the zoo's playground still was available for fun.

After slipping, sliding, swinging, and running on the playground, we were able to see both ostriches and alligators that are kept outside the zoo's main cage facilities. Also, the children especially enjoyed a tropical fish exhibit being shown--baby sharks, "nemo," and many more types of marine life swam before our faces.

Before leaving the zoo, each of us tried a sweet ice cream treat to cool off from the intense heat that has been overtaking Nagpur recently with summer drawing near. By the time we boarded the city bus back to our neighborhood of Godhani, 4 out of 8 children fell asleep on the way home (three on Katherine's lap, one on Katie's and one on Asha's!). I am sure the piles of humans we became was a sight to see on the crowded Indian bus. Reflecting on the experience, being in such a crowd could have been disastrous with 8 children under the age of 7! But, the children, thanks to the discipline and respect they have begun to cultivate at Nav Jeevan, behaved incredibly well and each of us laughed and played delightedly.

In closing, Katie and I would like to acknowledge that at the zoo's entrance we also met two nurses vaccinating any children under the age of five against polio. We have heard that the WHO has declared this week in India a time for working to maintain India's status (since last year) as Polio free. This mission also has new importance since Pakistan is still struggling to fully eradicate Polio.





The children at Nav Jeevan, and throughout Nagpur, are assisting in this mission! 

Jungle Medicine: Hemalkasa Lok Biradari Prakalp

Dr. Raju (next to me) and Rama (middle) often worked with the two young anesthetists during surgery.

This weekend, I spent some time in the Maharashtrian jungle's southern Gadchirolli district with over 60 Nagpur Rotary Club physicians and many young Indian medical students. Katie, not being one for blood, stayed at the school to hold down the fort from being invaded by lizards (and of course to help with the children). I was specifically under the direction of Dr. Raju Wilkinson, who I previously mentioned as performing Deepali's surgery, and his post graduate student, Rama. As I was soon to find out though, the doctors all seemed to enjoy sharing their knowledge and expertise with me! We traveled by bus to Hemalkasa where Dr. Prakash Amte, son of Baba Amte who is was a renowned Indian social worker and activist for the tribal peoples in southern Maharashtra, has been carrying out the work his father began. Interestingly, Baba Amte is now considered a type of saint for the work he did during his life, and for the actions and desires he spurred in others. 

Of the four recovery wards, two were inside the hospital and two outside. The two outside did not have beds, so patients slept on the cement floor on sheets.

This young mother had her hands full as both daughters
required surgeries to fix their skin contractures. 

Each year, Nagpur Rotary Club travels to Dr. Prakash's jungle camp, Lok Biradari Prakalp, on roads that are so pocked with holes they look (AND FEEL!) like riding over Swiss cheese. Their goal is to complete many difficult surgeries for members of nearby tribal villages who have no access to medical care.  

Lok Biradari Prakalp feels like a small village! Along with a brand new hospital facility containing three operating rooms with a total of 8 operating tables, Dr. Prakash also maintains a boarding school for tribal children, an enormous garden/farming operation, and a wildlife refuge. One morning, he showed us the animals-- poisonous snakes of all kinds, man-eating leopard and some "tame" leopards, one hyena, gazelles, peacocks (India's national birds), monkeys of course, a sloth bear, porcupines, giant brown squirrels, and some beautiful brown owls, to name a few.  

Dr. Prakash has no fear of the man eating leopard he rescued and has formed a strong bond with him.

Beautiful brown owls showed their 180 degree
vision while I walked around their enclosure.

To say that this area of India is rural is an understatement. Villages are built of sticks, stone, and mud, with the occasional sign of modernity such as an electrical wire or ancient satellite dish dotting the rooftops. But, at the same time, the communities remain vibrant with traditional, colorful Indian clothing and people of all ages going about their lives communally showing their happiness in the way they love one another. As an aside, I was told (near the end of the bus ride...thank you Dr. Raju!) that this jungle harbors many Indian rebels who plot against the Indian government. Fortunately, they are quite happy with the fact that the tribes are receiving medical care and so do not interfere, but welcome, the work at Lok Biradari Prakalp. 

This year, when we arrived after nearly 8 hours of travel, tribal peoples, all waiting for their surgeries, greeted us at the gate of the complex with quizzical stares and waves. After such a long journey we relaxed with some chai before a traditional dinner of rice, dahl, and chipatis, where I learned that one always eats chipatis with the dahl and vegetables first, then finishes off the meal with rice to clean the plate. 

After a night's rest under a mosquito net for which I was extremely thankful, 6AM arrived and our day began. Being in the jungle, we took the opportunity to go for a brisk morning walk before the heat of the day (both from the sun and the surgeries). After breakfast and chai, I found a spare set of scrubs and was instructed to scrub up and sterilize myself for surgery. Immediately, organized chaos ensued and did not cease until the last patient (surgery #109 not including optical procedures) awoke the following day around 6PM. 

While in surgery, I experienced many things. From hydroceles, chyloceles, and hernias of all kinds, to hyperspleenism, skin contractures and grafts, breast fibroids, thyroid tumors, and sebaceous cysts, every surgery was performed by a team of excellent surgeons, nurses, student assistants, and anesthetists. Every surgery was free. My jobs generally included scrubbing up to prepare trays of instruments, mopping up blood during the procedures, and writing surgical notes dictated by the surgeons. Dr. Raju, Rama, and their colleagues each had their own style. For example, watching many hydroceles, each doctor ultimately completed the same thing, an eversion of the sac, but each used different techniques for finding, draining, and turning the sac, before making the stitches necessary to close the sac and the skin. I think this will prove to be one of the most important lessons I learn during my time here--it can (and should) be applied to not only medicine but life in general. Patients, friends, relatives, family members, any people you meet, are not all the same. Each must be treated with diligent compassion and care, but in the end, one develops and cultivates a style unique to herself/himself, so as to do the best work or service possible. 

The women pictured here spent their time at camp preparing the OR instruments and tables and restocking the ever-dwindling supplies. Though they did not speak English and I only know a few Hindi phrases, their joyful attitudes were contagious and made me smile throughout the days!

Some interesting things about my experience in the jungle surgical camp include the fact that even with the new hospital and competent staffing, supplies always seemed to run out. The sterile gowns were so few that each of us working in the operating rooms received only one or two per day. As a mere assistant, I was splattered with blood, hydrocelic fluid, pus, and many other bodily fluids, but then remained in the same gown because there were no others. However, from this, I learned another lesson that seems prevalent in rural medicine: some is better than none. Wearing the gown (with pristine and sterile gloves for every patient or whenever sterilization was broken) was better than not because the gown was still cleaner than our scrubs underneath despite the new additions from previous patients. This lesson seemed to be illustrated too by the fact that many patients presented with situations for which the standard of care requires testing and other measures prior to surgery. However, since these measures in the jungle camp are close to impossible, doctors worked under the conditions found, and success most often prevailed, relieving pain and suffering. One person said to me when I questioned this, "Is not some better than none?" 

Each member of the team was given a certificate of appreciation for their generous service.

We watched the sunset after camp from the dry, "winter" riverbed.

Back at Nav Jeevan, Joy and Katie
waited patiently for my return! :)

Ultimately, time in the jungle proved fruitful for me, but more importantly for our 109+ patients. Each patient will receive the post operative care they require from Dr. Prakash's hospital, regularly staffed by two physicians, along with that provided them while the Rotary Team was there. Congratulations also are due to the Nagpur Rotary Club as they successfully performed the first-ever laproscopic surgery to be performed at Lok Biradari Prakalp this trip! Thank you very much to everyone for their kindness and warm welcome. I hope to join you again sometime. 

Also, a very special thank you goes to the Hillsdale Rotary Club for their encouragement, financial support for this special trip, and work in making valuable international connections! I am very excited to share my experience with you when I return.