maternity hospital

What to say of the hospital here in Hyderabad? “Modern Government Maternity Hospital.” First of all, kudos to the Indian government for providing this kind of service to mothers here, free of cost. Rachel and I are assigned to the antenatal outpatient ward this week. We left for the hospital around 9:30 and it took us some time to find a bajaji (auto rickshaw) that would take us for a decent price. It seems ridiculous to argue over 5 or 10 rupees when it is hardly a few cents in our currency. But in any case. We tried to find a driver who would agree to take us for 30 rupees. We eventually gave in and agreed on 35. I quickly made friends with our driver, a man named Kaja. My Indian accent and head bobble were uncontainable. And I discovered that people are actually more responsive and understand better when I talk like them. So hilarious.  We had a good chat on the drive and I got his number so we can call him to drive us every day. We spoke of religion, family, marriage and life in India. He insisted that his English was very poor, but it was actually quite good. I told him that we would be going to the hospital every week for 2 months and that we would teach him to speak good English.

It’s a very unique experience to go from one developing nation to the next and be able to compare their healthcare systems. In some ways, the maternity hospital here is better than Temeke, but in some ways it’s worse. I found it surprising that they even have a hospital solely dedicated to maternal healthcare. It’s quite a large hospital. Much like a maze. There are patients and family members everywhere. Every hallway was packed full of people on chairs and all over the floor. The smell was overwhelming and potent. Much worse than at Temeke. I could hardly stand it. It permeates the fibers of your clothing and stays in your hair and nostrils for the rest of the day. There seems to be plenty of staff there. A lot of them students or interns because it is apparently a teaching hospital. There is definitely a dynamic of hierarchy at work, but it’s hard to differentiate between doctor, nurse, student and daima (cleaning lady) because they generally wear the same thing. Indian women seem a lot more reserved than Africans. They stay completely covered in their saris until it comes time to deliver and are far more hesitant to expose themselves. They deliver on bare metal delivery tables that are tilted downward so that any fluids can be collected in a bucket at the end of the table. My favorite place in the labor ward is the newborn room. After a woman delivers, you collect the baby in a metal tray (bare naked and freezing) and walk he/she over to the newborn room where you immediately weigh and bathe them. All the while they remain uncovered and rapidly losing precious body heat. After they are cleaned off you wrap them up, make sure they are labeled with a little wrist tag that matches their mother’s, and leave them in that room with the other newborn babes. The hospital is well stocked with supplies. Women aren’t expected to bring anything for the birth. I was overwhelmed when I saw the little compartments on a counter filled with ampoules of oxytocin, various antibiotics and other drugs. I think my biggest challenge of working at this hospital will be pushing my way into things and trying to create opportunities for myself to get experience. They don’t need our help here as much as they did at Temeke. They have quite an efficient system of organization going and I felt like I was just getting in everyone’s way and potentially hindering them or slowing them down even…  The antenatal ward was quite overwhelming. There were 80-100 women standing packed into one stifling hot room with no circulation. There were about six doctors at each wooden examination table doing checkups that lasted no more than 2 minutes per woman. Even though they were fast, it still seemed fairly efficient and thorough. A quick palpation identifying the position of the fetus and listening for the fetal heart. Rach and I could hardly squeeze in questions so we basically stood there observing for an hour or two, feeling like we were just taking up space and air.

Out of everything I saw and experienced yesterday, I think the most shocking was walking into the canteen. The lack of hygiene was horrific. Overcrowded with people, dirt and garbage all over the floor, and absolutely no circulation. Stagnant, sweltering heat. I walked in, ordered food, packed it away and rushed out.

India feels unfamiliar and overwhelming to me. I’m doing my best to embrace my two months here and to continue to invest and love, but I’m finding it incredibly difficult. I emptied myself into Tanzania and I feel like I have nothing left to give. I’m exhausted and ready for outreach to be over. My admission to Ryerson for the fall has, once again, been denied. Back to the drawing board I suppose. Another factor that’s making it difficult for me to be present in India. My thoughts are consumed with worry about the future and what to do next. Doing my best to take each day as it comes and hoping that God extends the grace and strength that I need to make it to the end.