International

Homeopathic Surgery

Night had already fallen when the motorcycle slowly puttered up to the clinic. It was during the periodic “lights out” that beset the village every 72 hours or thereabouts, so electricity had been shut down until dawn. In the darkness, one could manage to make out three riders dismounting from the bike.

I had only arrived in the village a day or two before, but later I would learn that patients often arrived at the clinic in this manner. They’d be sandwiched between the driver and someone riding shotgun who kept them upright.

Treating the Monks of Monywa

In November of last year, riot police descended on six camps of protesters outside the town of Monywa, near Mandalay in Upper Burma. Since the summer, a coalition of activists, monks and local people had been demonstrating against a mining project in the area which was a joint venture of a Chinese corporation and a company owned by the Myanmar military.1 In the biggest organized expression of dissent since democratic reforms were instituted by the government, the protesters were challenging the project because it has resulted in environmental degradation, forced relocations and the confiscation of 7800 acres of land. Demanding a closure of operations, they set up camps in the area and were disrupting work with lines of armed linked protesters that impeded the movement of trucks.

A Brief Snapshot of Homeopathy in Myanmar

In November of last year, riot police descended on six camps of protesters outside the town of Monywa, near Mandalay in Upper Burma. Since the summer, a coalition of activists, monks and local people had been demonstrating against a mining project in the area which was a joint venture of a Chinese corporation and a company owned by the Myanmar military.1 In the biggest organized expression of dissent since democratic reforms were instituted by the government, the protesters were challenging the project because it has resulted in environmental degradation, forced relocations and the confiscation of 7800 acres of land. Demanding a closure of operations, they set up camps in the area and were disrupting work with lines of armed linked protesters that impeded the movement of trucks.

Riding a Train in India

Riding a train in India is always an experience. Exhilarating, harrowing, communal or deathly tedious - the experiences vary, but the ride is almost always memorable. Back in my old wanderlust days, after college and before children, I was hardy or foolish enough to withstand journeys spread over days in third class carriages fitted out with little more than padded wooden benches. I remember compartments brimming over with people and the remarkably courteous, almost genteel, way that we all cohabited in that tiny space. There were seemingly endless stretches of time when a train would stop in some barren, dry landscape. Of course, there were no announcements as to why or for how long. Local villagers would appear as if out of the shimmering air, bearing food and trinkets to sell to the passengers. Hours later, the train would give a lurch and resume its slow pace toward its destination.

A Week In Kolkata

I flew into Kolkata (what used to be known as Calcutta) not really knowing what to expect – of the city itself or the people and place I had arranged to visit. The former had a reputation as the soulful, cultural heart of India, filled with the ramshackle architectural beauty, elegant buildings, and teeming slums; the latter an incredibly busy clinic of a renowned homeopath and his son where many patients with very severe pathologies such as cancer and chronic renal failure are treated with unique protocols. Actually, it might be more accurate to say that I had very few expectations at all. A little over a year ago, an Indian homeopathic colleague had related to me that he had spent some time observing at a clinic that was using unique protocols to treat very serious pathologies such as cancer and that subsequently he himself had found it effective for his own patients. That was all it took to whet my appetite.