Nobody in India will confer upon them any honours. The media would neither cover their arrival nor detail their activities. Yet, year after year they travel to a region, where even the gods have failed, to perform a medical mission. No guard of honour to announce their arrival, no photo sessions, and no welcome speeches. Just a handful of earnest Rotarians at Calcutta’s refurbished international airport take them to Dhanbad, the coalfield, en route to their destination. They work hard–from dawn to sunset–and bring relief to scores of sick people. And then, after a week or ten days when the sun begins to set early and the wintry winds sweep the paddy fields, the word spreads far and wide that the òf40ódaktarlogòf39ó (doctors) and òf40ódaktarnisòf39ó (lady doctors) were going home. Saddened at the prospect of their Mai-baap leaving, they assemble outside the crumbling boundary wall of the Bagheria Hospital with folded hands, their turbans placed on the ground. Soon, a noisy jeep, emitting smoke andcontaminated diesel, emerges from the hospital gate on its trek to Dhanbad. For the rural poor the uppermost thought is whether the òf40ódaktarlogòf39ó and òf40ódaktarnisòf39ó would return next year to perform what they consider to be reconstructive miracles. It is a hope they have lived with for several years.
Yes, they would. The Virginia Children’s Connection, formed in 1989 as a voluntary body, has acquired a respectable profile for its outstanding work over the years. Nowadays it receives wholesome support from many individuals and organisations. This year the Northwest Airlines took care of international transportation, while the Merck and Roche pharmaceutical houses provided medicine. I found the VCC members, including my Charlottesville dentist, well and truly committed. I sensed the fervour (not evangelical, mind you), enthusiasm and commitment that move people like them the world over to serve fellow-human beings. Victims of war, famine, diseases and natural calamities can hardly afford to wait endlessly for revolutions to transform their lives. They are beholden to anyone and everyone who can bring to them immediate relief. Mention the name "Bihar" and you may be treated to a sigh, a yawn or even a roll of the eyes. But members of the VCC are not deterred by what goes on in Patna’s murky political world.At the beginning of this millennium, three plastic surgeons, three anesthesiologists, two dentists, a pediatrician, a medical student, six nurses, a physical therapist and a photographer travelled from Charlottesville, an attractive University town (population: 45,000-50,000) located in the heart of Thomas Jefferson country. Giridih was their destination. Their mission–to correct cleft lips and palates, caused mainly by B-vitamin deficiencies, and facial scars resulting from burns. There are of course other volunteer medical groups working in India, but few focus on children and fewer still on the reconstructive surgery performed by the VCC.
Their leader is the affable 39-year old Dr Thomas J. Gampper, a plastic surgeon at the University of Virginia Medical Centre in Charlottesville. When I met him, he told me, "It’s amazing to me. You can change a child’s life in an hour." Reflecting on what he and his team had accomplished during their January visit, he said that the beauty of the experience came from knowing that they had changed a child’s life forever. How much would it cost to perform such operations in the United States? "Three crores", replied Dr Gampper. I realised that the payoff for the team members was not in dollars or rupees, but in the affection and gratitude of the children of Giridih whose lives were transformed. The Giro (slices of meat wrapped in a tandoori roti) that I was treated to began tasting better. Frankly I had not heard of Giridih. So I turned to Professor Walter Hauser, an eminent historian of South Asia who has guided some excellent researches on Bihar in the 20th century. He tells me that a large Adivasipopulation inhabits the district, in the heart of South Bihar’s mining region (Chotanagpur or Jharkhand). Though the region produces coal, as do other areas in Chotanagpur, the district is a major producer of mined mica. Topographically and economically, Hauser compared Giridih to Appalachia in West Virginia, and Kentucky. It is something of a rough, tough "frontier" environment. Not exactly the kind of place, I said to myself, where you would find people who make sparkling conversation.
As I said, it began in 1989, when two surgeons–Dr John Persing and Dr John T. Lettieri–from the University of Virginia Health Sciences Centre devoted two weeks of their time repairing congenital and traumatic deformities. Why Giridih? Simply because Dr Lettieri’s in-laws had lived there for about 38 years as missionaries and saw a need. Remember that the VCC made the grueling trek not as evangelists but as professional surgeons who believed in serving not only those in need at home, but also those abroad. They received no monetary compensation, but were rewarded in other ways.
Dr. Mark Harris, the pediatric anesthesiologist on the 1990 team, stated, "You get a tremendous amount of personal satisfaction from providing care to people who otherwise wouldn’t receive it. But for every child you do help, there are thousands upon thousands you can’t help. This is a great frustration." Focussing on younger children was intentional, because socially "they have the greatest potential for getting on with normal lives," to quote Dr Persing. Today, the team was building more than lips and palates. They were building self-esteem.
Rough and tough the place may be, but the 100,000-plus inhabitants of Giridih have been crying out for medical help for decades. We have excellent doctors and surgeons in the country but they end up in private clinics and multinational-sponsored hospitals. Happily some people, living some 10,000 miles away, offer care and comfort to the rural poor in depressed areas like Giridih. They make their own modest contribution to what is a massive task of building a decent health system. But sooner or later, the state and central governments will have to do some quick thinking. Rewriting history textbooks or tampering with the Constitution can scarcely take us very far. Providing adequate medical facilities to our people alone will create a strong and healthy nation. Who do I say this to? Is anyone listening? As the poet (courtesy: noted Malayalam poet, K. Satchidanandan) said, òf40óNothing had changed/When I woke up after twenty years./I am going to bed./Rouse me when it changes./I shall then tell you how theworld was/In such a way that/You would long to go back there.òf39ó