Well, that was a day.
It started in the usual way – people not being in the place they were supposed to, at the time they were supposed to be there. Lots of promises of people who can help in the coming days, but nothing immediate.
It was to the civil hospital, where a Florence Nightingale celebration was taking place! Anand and I snuck into the back – we were felicitated with flowers and asked to give a speech. At this we balked, and managed to get away with just flowers and photographs. We were, at this point ‘guests of honour’, and were placed front row, in the middle, with the eyes of 300 nurses piercing into the backs of our skills.
Photographs
Florence Nightingale, it turns out, is a bit loved round here. It was more than a bit amusing to see her picture draped in flower garlands, with haldi and coloured powders scattereda round like a Hindu deity. We left the hospital after a couple of hours – felt bad for leaving, but we had work to do!
We did three interviews – the first of which was not just with a woman, not even just her and her husband… but with a whole extended family sitting and feeding into conversation. Pretty rubbish really – how’m I supposed to ask about the mother-in-law’s influence when she’s sitting right there? Anyway, we carped on for a while about papayas being bad during pregnancy and hit the road. The second was much more interesting, although the baby in the background was a pain. The third was much better and she had lots more to say –including that pregnant women should eat before men – revolutionary.
It started in the usual way – people not being in the place they were supposed to, at the time they were supposed to be there. Lots of promises of people who can help in the coming days, but nothing immediate.
It was to the civil hospital, where a Florence Nightingale celebration was taking place! Anand and I snuck into the back – we were felicitated with flowers and asked to give a speech. At this we balked, and managed to get away with just flowers and photographs. We were, at this point ‘guests of honour’, and were placed front row, in the middle, with the eyes of 300 nurses piercing into the backs of our skills.
Photographs
Florence Nightingale, it turns out, is a bit loved round here. It was more than a bit amusing to see her picture draped in flower garlands, with haldi and coloured powders scattereda round like a Hindu deity. We left the hospital after a couple of hours – felt bad for leaving, but we had work to do!
We did three interviews – the first of which was not just with a woman, not even just her and her husband… but with a whole extended family sitting and feeding into conversation. Pretty rubbish really – how’m I supposed to ask about the mother-in-law’s influence when she’s sitting right there? Anyway, we carped on for a while about papayas being bad during pregnancy and hit the road. The second was much more interesting, although the baby in the background was a pain. The third was much better and she had lots more to say –including that pregnant women should eat before men – revolutionary.
The assistant, looking tough.
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