THE EXHILARATION AT FERNANDO BOTERO MUSEUM IN CANDELARIA

THE EXHILARATION AT FERNANDO BOTERO MUSEUM IN CANDELARIA, BOGOTA… WHICH PART OF OUR BRAIN DOES GET STIMULATED?

Bogota has that vague familiarity as one drives through, the ochre colours of the tiles of the houses, the gardens well kempt, no tall buildings and nothing reminiscent of the turbulent distant past. Houses and apartment complexes line the street, lazily looking at the yellow taxis, red buses, and pedestrians who seem to be in hurry to go anywhere. The trees are not striking, but they are not tropical and the hills surrounding the city, with prominent peaks covered in threatening mist reminds you that you are far away from sun and sea and lapping waves and the tropical torpor.

I stopped a yellow taxi; I had been warned about the dangers of taking regular taxis rather than the hotel taxis. A very sleepy driver with a smell of a festering wound, welcomed me with no great fanfare, and off we went to Candelaria, the historic heart of Santa Fe de Bogota.

A mixture of old and new, but the old were very old by American standards and the new with a touch of architectural dignity. I walked up the street and stopped at a corner where views in any directions reminded you of the oligarchs and the hundred year war of the Conservatives. It was only three in the afternoon, but the fine drizzle and the patronizing mist from the mountains made you think of a later time.

I was so excited when I could recognize the unmistakable Fernando Botero sculpture and with the greatest of excitements I entered the Fernando Botero Museum, much different from his outdoor sculpture garden in Medellin, the city of his birth. This collection was truly mesmerizing. It was as if Alvaro Mutis (Maqroll) and Gabo (Macondo) were giving me a tour of the Colombian History of wars and death and destruction but the survival of the spirit of this people who have managed to weave this softness of Colombian Character.

When I saw this Presidential portrait by Botero, I couldn’t help thinking of No One Writes to the Colonel.

Maqroll, whose shadow I carry within myself, was present, as always scheming of a thing or two and Botero had managed to capture it. Colombia’s unique character gave Gabo the ability to enhance what Alejo Carpentier (Cuba) had earlier thought of: The Magical Realism.

I was deeply engrossed in Botero’s sketches and paintings and thinking of the Macondo where I had lived in Cuba and the surrealism of our lives during difficult times there.  Gabo would write a short story about the security guard at a store in Vedado stopping a woman from entering because she was carrying two soft Avocados. He later said if the avocados were not that ripe, I would have let her in. What was he thinking? The lady was about to shoplift using a soft avocado?

(Picasso, Miro, Freud, Chagall)

Then there was a surprisingly good collection of European masters, especially Pablo Picasso and here the attachments to the paintings were emotional rather than magical.

Does the same part of the brain get exhilarated when the viewing of pictures gives you the same pleasure but for a different reason? Prof V Ramachandran of UC San Diego might be able to explain that.

My appreciation of things French (in aesthetic terms) drew me to view Renoir, Corot, and Toulouse Lautrec among others as well as many painters who had been elsewhere but died in France... Chagall, Lipschitz…

the photograph below I think is the same town painted earlier  Trouville in Normandy

I was dressed in clothes from India and I noticed that that was attracting attention among the visitors. I heard someone comment that I was from India, but I proceeded through the exhibition hall, nonchalantly, without paying attention to those who were paying attention to me, I was too thrilled with the magical realism of Colombia...

But the moment in Cochin, when the flame of magical realism touched me, was when a painter by the name of Sunil Vallarpadam was presented to me. He had a moustache which was impressive and had some good looking friends including one who looked soft enough to want you to take up Meditation.

I remember Sunil’s lines and they evoked a sense of fullness of a picture which seemed only partial a second ago. I could see at this museum, some of the paintings, accomplished more than depicted. I must tell Sunil that the next time we meet.

I left the museum with such a light heart and wonderful mood that I felt that I must try even more to be nicer to every single person and smile at every one. The drizzle was so light that it rather caressed than moisturizing your skin. The mist had descended even further down from the mountains.

Walking past the Centro Cultural Gabriel Garcia Marquez, I thanked this nation which has given me such aesthetic appreciation and education through Alvaro Mutis, Gabo and Botero...

 Cultural Frankensteinism in the land of Magical Realism...feels more magical here, if this man was parading along the Malecon in Havana, there it would appear Frankensteinism..

So far, I have visited Bogota, Medellin, Cartagena and Leticia in Colombia and there is whole lot of beautiful places to cover... Ojala!

The UBER driver was there in minutes and he drove me past the Montserrate with a church that can be seen for miles, the street of Banks and the municipal park and through the ordinariness of Bogota. He left me at the gates of Hilton Hotels, a wonderful place to stay in Bogota where my new friends Leidy and Lorena, greeted me and directed me to the early evening reception for visitors. The wine was Undurranga from Chile, the snacks were all made in the hotel and I spent two hours sitting reading, writing and recollecting the pleasant feeling of being in Candelaria..

A YOUNG INDIAN WOMAN GOES OFF TO UNIVERSITY BUT WITH MEMORIES OF HER PEOPLE

A YOUNG INDIAN WOMAN GOES OFF TO THE UNIVERSITY: FAMILY AND FRIENDS SAY FAREWELL

I attended a ceremony of farewell to a young Indian Woman who was going off to study at a University. Her mother organized a ceremony to wish her well.

These are descendants of some of the ancient inhabitants of this region.

And many of the old ceremonies and customs are followed to this day.

 the young lady in question is related to this warrior. Photo from early 1900s.

(a tribal ceremony in the 1940s)

The order and the manner the ceremony is conducted is so different from those of the European descendants in this land.

First the mother introduces the daughter, who is known to every one presents. There are no sentimental thoughts about missing them but a praise of what she has done so far in her life.

Then the mother invites a spiritual leader to pray and give words of advice to the young lady. He talks and tells her a bit about her people and also the importance of being a good relative to her people. He burns sage and blesses her and those present as well as the food. Thus the food becomes a medicine.

After that everyone is invited to eat. 

Here also there is an order, the older people are served in their seats, and then a line forms for people to partake of the dinner. Today’s fare was a modern version of their food: Fry Bread, minced meat, tomatos and salad, a sort of chicken dumpling soup, fresh fruit.

After that the audience is invited to talk. I got up to say that I had known this young lady all her life and that her name is glorified being an American Indian as well as Sanskrit Indian! 

One by one, many others talked some reminiscing and some giving advice and each time, hugs by everyone concerned. Others reverently sat and listened, children played noisily but it was not considered an intrusion. Older children and young adults listened to what is being said. There was a fair bit of laughter.

At the end of these, the young lady thanks every one for coming and gives presents to the people who prayed for her and also to some elder Indians. It is not she who is going away that gets the present but she is honoured by the presence of the people and gives them presents.

The leftover food is packaged and the elder or infirm person in the community is remembered and someone takes the food to them. Always there is plenty of food available.

Very quickly every one disperses towards their homes, and as everyone pitches in, the place is clean and rubbish dispensed and goodbyes said.

People leave with a good sense in their hearts.

I am lucky to be a participant and at the same time observer. I was the only non-Indian person present there but was treated just like everyone else, especially since everyone in the audience have known me or known about me and my association with this tribe.

I can summarize the evening thus:

Ancient concepts translated into modern times

Patience

Listening skills

Advice to younger ones, but not admonition

Equality with no social hierarchy

Affection

Solidarity and Cultural Identity

Humour

Heartfelt Laughter

Children are present and they are not silenced, the older children listen to the talks and conversations without interrupting. The importance is always placed on the Other person rather than oneself even if one is speaking.

Thus I spent one evening in August in a remote Indian reservation in USA.

WELCOME HOME TO NATIVE AMERICA: MY HOME IS IN THEIR HEARTS

WELCOME HOME

A NATIVE AMERICAN WELCOME

One of the greatest gifts in my life has been my choice to work with American Indians. The plans were to finish my post graduate training in Endocrinology in the USA and return to Australia to continue my life where it had left off. Casualidad no es tan casual, say the Cubans.

MONSOON IN COCHIN, KERALA

BACKWATERS FLOWING INTO THE SEA AT FORT COCHIN IN KERALA

Less than one week ago, I was on the shores of the Cochin backwaters, enjoying the immense hospitality of the Cochin people, especially the family of Mr. B.

 MY NEW JEWISH FRIENDS FROM COCHIN. MAY OUR FRIENDSHIPS CONTINUE IN ERETZ ISRAEL AS WELL AS USA. AND COCHIN

 I spent a couple of days assisting my Mexican doctor friend, Dra E, one of the most dedicated family physician, who is unselfish, not materialistic and intent on healing her patients.

SOME GOOD FRIENDS FROM MEXICO 

I arrived last night at the reservation, to the Blue House which has become my home among the Indians.

(SYNCRETISM AT ITS BEST: I MAY LEAVE CUBA BUT CUBA NEVER LEAVES ME! HANUKKIA FROM COCHIN, KIPPAH BY SARAH COHEN OF JEW TOWN, COCHIN, AMERICAN INDIAN DOLL AND ALSO NATS FROM BURMA)

Working with Indians, one is exposed to the ancient philosophy of the people and you are brought to the original uncontaminated thinking of human beings before greed, avarice, lack of respect, exploitation took hold of the human mind.

The tribe I returned to is one of the earliest tribes I had worked with hired as a Doctor to work with them and help them. Always and to this day I feel that they have helped me much more than I had helped them.

ONE OF THE EARLIEST CULTURAL ANTHROPOLOGICAL STUDIES PUBLISHED INN 1932 WAS ABOUT THIS TRIBE BY NONE OTHER THAN THE GREAT AMERICAN ANTHROPOLOGIST MARGARET MEAD

The relationship between us continued, even though I was physically absent from their clinic.  I entered the clinic and was greeted with so much affection and respect by so many of the workers!  Almost all of them were Indians and they shouted their joy of seeing me back. I was so humbled with this reception.

THE FEAST OF WELCOME (SE'UDA WE CAN SAY IN HEBREW?) ALL HOME MADE BY MRS M

Mrs. M had married an Indian while he was stationed in the Philippines and had integrated into her life here as a Cook at the Clinic. At the request of the CEO, who gave me such a warm welcome, thanking me for returning, Mrs. M had prepared a feast! Lumia, Pancit Noodles, Adobe Chicken. Remember this clinic is situated 60 km from the nearest town! And I am sure this was the only place you could taste Filipino Food! She greeted me as if she had seen me only yesterday.

After the lunch, where all the workers were invited, I went around greeting the workers in various departments of the clinic and I felt so elated by their genuine welcome.

You are home; the CEO was to say later.

In the ten years away, I had learned and taught at various universities and countries and now I bring back that knowledge to assist my friends. I also told them that at every opportunity I get, which is true, I mention their names, as a token of my appreciation of the love they had shown me over the years.

DEDICATED HEALTH CARE PROVIDERS AT THE CLINIC. THIS DOCTOR IS AN EXCEPTIONALLY GOOD FAMILY PHYSICIAN.

I INVITE MY DEAREST FRIEND IN MIAMI, DR MW TO COME AND HELP ME TO IMPROVE THE HEALTH STATUS OF THESE ANCIENT PEOPLE OF THE AMERICAS

EL INDIO IN MEXICO: A CASE OF DOCTOR-PATIENT RELATIONSHIP

EL INDIO IN MEXICO: A CASE OF DOCTOR-PATIENT RELATIONSHIP

We hear about the importance of doctor-patient relationship but we don’t hear about the extraordinary relationships between Doctors and Patients.

I have one such friend, Dra E who practices in Piedras Negras, in Mexico.

She graduated from Ozone Therapy programme in Cuba (medical degree from Monterey) and over the years I had seen the importance of Ozone therapy in the arrest and retardation of inflammation in the body.

When I began talking about Inflammation and chronic disease in the body, in 2005, it was met with laughter, mainly by Family Physicians working in the Indian Health Service. My observations were after watching the evolution of disease among the American Indians.

Why did a group of people who were all lean become all overweight or obese? (Greater than 95%) with Children becoming obese earlier and earlier in their lives? The mantra of less exercise and more food did not make much sense to me, when I got to know them better. The lack of understanding of chronic disease and its care by American (and other) doctors, forced me to go to London to study the Anthropology of Medicine which turned out to be a great education. Armed with this new vista of the universe of maladies, it opened up with clarity the suffering and illness among the Indians and allowed postulation of theories which were proved scientifically many years later. Most scientists agree that propositions or intuitions are later on followed by truth. Because I work with Indians, an oppressed group, the work or propositions arising out of our work are not respected but regularly years later they are proven scientifically. The instances are too many.

El Indio, as I would call my friend/patient has an unusual inexplicable form of renal problem. The kidney doctors, interested in dialyzing for dollars, living in a city close to his reservation, recommended dialysis, without studying the problem in detail (they were too busy with other things I suppose). Dialysis was not acceptable for him, and neither was it was an option in my opinion.

How to get him some high intensity anti-inflammatory, non-damaging, non-pharmaceutical, treatment? In Cuba, it would have been very easy, but in the USA where the practice of medicine is highly influenced by Pharmaceutical companies and their peons, no such things would be available easily.

(ayisha has completed her studies in Hospitality and is doing a Commerce degree. She is Bombay born and brought up)

On Wednesday morning, CST in the USA, I was leaving my hotel, Niyati Boutique Hotel in Fort Cochin in India. A silent self-absorbed driver took me to the airport about 42 km away, through traffic that belies any logic. Comfortable stays in the lounges of Air India at Cochin and GVK Lounge and Lufthansa Lounge in Frankfurt, United Club in Washington DC along with comfortable flights, and 36 hours in time spent on air and on the ground, I found myself in San Antonio. 

(Meals on Non-USA based airlines, this one in Lufthansa, tend to be better)

A bleary eyed stay at a hotel and I was at the Airport once again to receive El Indio who had left his home few hours earlier and arrived by plane. 

We rented a car; off we went towards the border with Mexico. Stopped briefly at a Taco place for a place of Chicken Fajita Taco, as El Indio had not eaten all morning and US based airlines don’t serve anything on their flights.

We arrived at Eagle Pass on time, watching the mesquite trees lining the entire distance with their less than interesting glare at us. As we turned into the highway that would take us to Mexico, two eagles circled us, which in the mind of El Indio and I was an auspicious signal of the hours ahead. We parked the car and walked the short distance on the bridge to Mexico. 

We had not taken into consideration the immense desert heat, the mercury hovered around 105 F or around 41 C. I felt bad for El Indio, to expose him to such an extreme heat, but a short ride on a taxi found us in the air-conditioned but crowded offices of Dra E, the most humanitarian of General Physicians I know.

We set up the Ozone Treatment for him; O3 is a powerful anti-oxidant and anti-inflammatory agent, routinely used in Cuba and many other countries around the world. For Cultural and material reasons it is not allowed in the USA.

Treatment went without any problems. He later observed that the gentle nature of the doctor and the nurse was soothing to him.  After a nights rest, he had yet another treatment with O3, which was followed by a delicious Mexican Breakfast at El Salsero Restaurant. During all the time he was in the office and undergoing treatment, he was made to feel comfortable, the tone of conversation was one of respect and the smooth flow of the ambience in the small office crowded with patients made him feel at home and cared for. Why don’t we have doctors like this at home? He asked. I assured him that even in Mexico she was unusual and that she was just born that way to parents who were very socially conscious people.

I felt confident that we can avoid Dialysis in El Indio for a few years, as I have seen good results with O3 therapy in the prevention of the deterioration of chronic kidney disease.

(a very friendly waitress at El Salsero Restaurant in Mexico)

We crossed the border back to USA and then I drove him back to the San Antonio, booked a hotel for him to stay and then organized his trip back home to his reservation.

As the husband of the doctor said, after a lovely dinner at Baraka’s Restaurant, our stomachs are full and hearts are content.

The most content person was El Indio, who had to travel a long way, much longer than his usual sojourners but he returns home with great hope that he may be given reprieve by the Great Spirit and he is grateful. I told him; whatever the Great Spirit has in store for you is what will happen. What we have tried is to make sure that the inflammation is taken care of and that dialysis for dollar transaction will not take place in his case.

(a waitress in San Antonio, friendly Texan student of Nursing)

(on the other side of the shallow river lies Mexico)

This is a good example of Doctor-Patient relationship. All philosophies insist on

Gratitude

Humility

Mindfulness

All of us are grateful for various actions by the various individuals

The humility is our hope for our patient, knowing well that this treatment would be of help to him

Mindfulness is the aware of the present, enjoying the travel, the unbearable heat, the treatment, wonderful hospitality of the Mexican people, needless to say the superior food there.