by Tom Corbett
“Ah, how the mighty have fallen.” He feigned a groan. “Once a revered visionary and leader of women and now a mere money-grubber.”
“Hah, the only place you led women was to your bed. Visionary my ass.”
Chris let out a distinct laugh. “Hey, my ass was the vision, never doubt that. Before I forget, tell me, how is Deena doing? We were surprised she did not accompany you on this trip. Wasn’t it supposed to be a dry run? Azita will be all over me if I forget to ask.”
“Good,” Kay replied. Chris noticed a slight discomfort pass over his sister’s face. “She is doing good. Someone had to stay behind and mind the shop.”
“Wait.” His antennae were up. “Are you holding something back?”
“No, she is doing great, physically. There are no side effects from the head trauma as far as I can see. I suppose we did worry that there might be psychological consequences coming here on her first site visit since the…incident. Of course, she was not happy to be left behind.”
“I am sure of that.”
“There is something else, but I am not prepared to talk about it. It has nothing to do with her work or health. Leave it at that, okay?” She gave Chris a stare that he knew so well. He dared pursue the topic at serious risk to his life and limb. Then she opened her mouth as if she had changed her mind and was about to share something more when there was a noise in the background. She glanced to the side with a relieved expression. “Oops, someone at the door. Work calls. Talk to you later. Love you.”
“Love you back.” Then the screen was black. He was left to ponder the strange ending to the conversation. Suddenly, Chris became very disquieted inside. He desperately wanted back to where his life had been, sharing secrets and ideas under the blanket with his twin sister. They were so close then. But events and people had proved merciless over time. As he grew, he uncovered a priceless insight. Virtually nothing is as it seems at first glance. He tried to think for a moment about a time when he was at peace, in a very quiet place. Perhaps it was in a field somewhere in the English countryside, on a sunny day without a breath of any breeze anywhere. There were such days when nothing was moving, the tall whispery grasses about him were silent and the leaves adorning the nearby trees were serene. The whole world appeared still and stationary. The universe was at complete rest. Or had it been? Inside, he knew that not to be correct.
In truth, though, everything moved, as it always had. He realized that the planet on which he stood was orbiting daily on its axis. That same planet, mother earth, was circling the rather insignificant star at the center of our solar system at a rate of 30 kilometers per second. That insignificant star, our sun, located in a remote part of the Milky Way Galaxy, was moving around some distant black hole at 250km/s. And the galaxy, one of countless others, was speeding through a wider universe at 600km/s. In fact, he mused to himself, it is moving even faster than we had previously thought. It hit him, in just the few moments it took to have these thoughts, he had traveled some 3000 kilometers. Nothing, it appeared, was as it seemed. All was illusion, the slight-of-hand of a mischievous deity. He tried to remember when he first embraced that epiphany. Was it at Oxford, Princeton, even earlier? He could not recall the moment, but he was confident that he was young at the time.
As he stared at the blank screen, he mused on the nature of his world. The certainties of the world he saw as reality were subject to relational constructs, perspectives, and ways of looking at things. When he was a student taking a psychology course, many years ago, he recalled spending a fair amount of time examining perceptual conundrums. Is line A bigger or smaller than line B when the ends of the lines are framed by two convex as opposed to concave horizontal-laying V shapes? Even when told the two lines were the same length his brain would tell him something quite different. Is the man in a room taller or shorter than the table in the depiction of a room you are asked to observe? The answer was obvious until he realized that his sense of perspective had been tricked and the rear of the specially constructed enclosure, where the table was located, was much smaller than where the man was standing.
Common sense observation was not everything. His mind floated to the Dali Museum in St. Petersburg, Florida some days. There was a portrait of a famous person. Up close, what he saw were details of very tiny portraits and had no clue as to the iconic leader in front of him. As he backed away, the outline of President Lincoln emerged. From the other side of the room, the visage of the sixteenth president was unmistakable, the obscuring details from the close-up look now gone. Another famous piece of art was a collection of furniture from the side. He walked around and changed his perspective and, once again, there was a portrait of Lincoln. The world was always playing with him. What he saw depended on where he stood and how he looked at things. He suddenly had an urge for certainty and answers, things he had not enjoyed since he began thinking for himself.
Karen, Kay, and Carlotta swept into what the Gupta’s used as their area clinic and what had been Pamir Masoud’s medical facility so many years ago. Archie Singleton and his wife Agnes were sitting with Ferhana and Bahiri. These four had spent the previous day discussing possibilities long into the night. In the space of a single day, they appeared to have bonded.
“I see you have gotten a head start,” Karen offered as they all sat around a large table. “I am glad you had a chance to get to know one another.”
“We are already like fast friends,” Bahiri enthused. “I am thinking that we have much in common even though we are from different cultures and parts of the world. And we have many ideas on which we agree.”
“Well mate,” Archie added, “we do have one thing in common. England ran our respective countries for a while, but we managed to kick her out. No offense, Karen.”
“None taken, it was all before my time in any case.” Then, a big smile spread across her face. “Besides, your version is all bollocks. We walked away, too much bloody trouble taking care of you blokes.”
At this, Kay laughed aloud. “When Karen goes into her Brit vernacular, it is time to get the meeting under way. She tries so hard to be like regular folk and fails so miserably. In any case, no need to relive the independence movements since we Americans were the first to kick them in their rears.” Karen opened her mouth to protest but Kay quickly moved on. “So, tell me, what are you cooking up?”
Archie and Bahiri looked at one another, waiting for the other to start. Ferhana broke the awkward silence. “While the men play at being polite, I will start. Besides, these are mostly ideas that Agnes and I have been kicking around.” When Bahiri opened his mouth, apparently to dispute her claim to authorship of what they were about to say, she silenced him with one look. Karen was very impressed. Satisfied that the men were in their place, Ferhana continued. “We are not talking about anything totally new, of course. What concerns us is that we do a wonderful job of healing bodies, or at least a pretty good job. We don’t, however, treat the whole person. This is something that Professor Crawford…”
“You mean my brother?” Kay smiled.
“Yes.” Ferhana looked uncertain.
Kay suppressed a witticism that might require too much explanation in the moment. “Sorry, you are right. It is just that I call him something else. Please continue.”
Bahiri spoke up excitedly. “This is something your brother has talked about so many times in his books and papers. We are thinking that we physicians must go beyond merely healing the body. We focus on the children because they are the future. But there is so much more to be done than merely binding-up their wounds and preventing illness through basic public health education and inoculations. We need to work with families early, so much is hopeless by the time children walk through our doors. And physical health, as we know, is only part of the total picture. Sound bodies only make sense if they are kept whole for some greater purpose.”
“And that purpose is?”
“Part of it is just the education thing you already do, building schools and teaching gir
ls basic skills. But one thing we see here, and Archie and Agnes see in the north, it is how narrow the world is for so many of these children. They only know what they see about them, their own culture and way of looking at things. I recall listening to my dear parents talk about the India of their youth. In many parts of the country, there were at least three realities. Sure, there were always some who were educated and could speak and read English. For them, and my family was among them, they understood and appreciated the wider world including the diversity of cultures and perspectives out there. Then there were the kids of the less affluent but who were not mired in suffocating poverty. These children would have had some schooling, but it would have been rather rudimentary. They might have known a few words of English but spoke Hindi or Marathi or whatever major language was spoken in their area. The final group were the many kids who were destitute, whose parents scraped by on a few rupees per day. Often, these children could only communicate in a local dialect and had no concept of a world beyond their direct experience. You could look around you in a rural Indian town and see kids existing in three separate worlds, if we had paid attention. For some, it was a small and cramped place that existed only in what they could see and hear through the limiting lens of a local dialect. For others, it was a broader world that might encompass their country and a smattering of larger understandings since they could read in Hindi or another major language of India. For the lucky few, there was a big world out there since they could read and speak English. Many would not take advantage of the opportunities before them, but many would. The thing was, the fortunate ones had the opportunity, the chance. I can remember so clearly playing with the child of the family servants, when I was a child myself. In certain moments, I had this insight, understanding if you will. It was so painful that it still hurts today. My playmate would never get to see the wider world, never be able to dream big. My playmate would be married off at a young age, have many children, look old and haggard by the time she was thirty, and work herself into an early grave. I bristled at the unfairness of it.”
“So, you want to bring the world to these poor children somehow?” It was Carlotta.
Archie spoke up. “Exactly. It may sound foolish, but we think we can take the first steps. They come to us seeking help with their pain and disease and desperation and, when we are fortunate enough, we solve those issues. With many, we develop a relationship over time. They come to trust us. They send their girls, some of them do, to our schools. But there is so much more we could do with that relationship.”
“Like what?” Carlotta seemed quite interested.
“Think about this. There are an increasing number of videos and distance learning opportunities that Western kids have easy access to. With computers and the web, we can bring the world to these kids. Of course, we would need to carefully select the material, translate it into the local vernacular, and find ways to discuss the ideas and lessons, make them relevant to their world. But I am convinced we can do it. We need to heal bodies, prepare minds, and offer a wider perspective on the world. And not just for the children. The here is so much we can bring to the parents about family planning and raising children and nutrition. The possibilities are endless.”
“Yes, Atle and I have talked about using distance learning more. I wish the hell he had not run off to America.” Carlotta seemed on the verge of continuing but then had second thoughts.
Kay leaned over to her. “Don’t forget he has a significant other.” Then, in a louder voice. “Yes, I am still in touch with my sister-in-law, who also has been dragged off to America. She and I have been talking about using modern communications technology in this work. Sure, I know that most of the work our doctors do in the field is elementary, but we are expected to be all things to all people. How many times did I get a situation where I was way out of my depth and I thought I had seen it all in the ER in Chicago, the hell hole of all hell holes? Wouldn’t it be great to be able to touch base with experts back in London or the Mayo Clinic for a diagnosis or treatment options? Sure, you don’t have to worry about being sued in Kabul but still, it would be nice not to be flying blind all the time. I guess I am saying that just because we are working in desperately poor conditions, we don’t have to settle for primitive technologies and dated knowledge.”
“Oh yes,” Bahiri chimed back in. “I am so supportive of these ideas. Many times, Ferhana and I have talked at night about some case that we were losing because we could not figure out what was wrong or what to do about it. We would do our best to find people and answers, but we were so inefficient. If we had a list of resources or one place to go which could direct us…that would be so fine.”
Carlotta then quickly added. “And just think. We can use the same technologies for multiple purposes, keeping our field personnel up to date and bringing the world to the next generation in those parts of the world that risk being left behind.”
“Brilliant,” Karen chimed in with a slight touch of a scowl on her face. “now all we have to do is make this a reality with Chris and Amar and Ricky and Atle gone, and Deena…” Karen stopped there but looked at Kay with an expression that others noted but could not interpret.
Kay quickly looked away but recovered almost instantaneously, though a hint of a blush remained on her face. She spoke quickly. “There is no doubt that this is a lot of work and that Karen feels short-staffed right now because, frankly, she is. One thing is clear to me, this is more than buying a few computers. It is how we use them that counts. But we can get more staff and my brother can raise more money. Hell, now that he has failed to stem the fascist tide in America, he will have time on his hands.”
Carlotta’s face brightened. “Is there a chance of getting them back to London? Yes, this is a much bigger project than it seems, to do it right. We should pilot it here, on a small scale. Then we can spread it to other sits in the Mideast and Africa. You can be our on-site traveling experts, a lighthouse site.” She looked at the Guptas and the Singletons before turning back to Kay. “You have been in touch with your brother. Has he given up on his fool’s errand in America now that they have elected Trump? My friends in Spain cannot believe that, they call Trump America’s Franco, you know, our former dictator and our embarrassment before the world.”
Kay did not respond immediately. She seemed to be considering her response. To her surprise, everyone waited with patience. “I fear that any hope for a speedy return of the prodigal brother may be in vain. He anticipated Trump’s triumph and is preparing for a longer contest.”
“Amar cannot be pleased,” Karen said, hopefully.
“No, she is not. However, she is resigned to this year and, unfortunately, she is in Madison and not Chicago. That can be a seductive place. On the other hand, her uneasiness has more to do with work. She is restless being just another doc to the affluent and entitled. It does not satisfy her.”
“These are difficult decisions for professional couples,” Archie said thoughtfully. “Agnes and I have been very fortunate. We have always wanted the same thing. From what I know, the same is true of the Guptas.”
“Very much so,” Ferhana affirmed with conviction. “Maybe we have so little conflict because we shared so much at the beginning. I don’t know.” She seemed to be thinking of a distant memory. “I recall chatting with my husband when we first met in school, talking about our backgrounds. I don’t know why but I told him a story that I heard as a young girl. It was about a local prince, from the time before we became a united country, a time when the families of local rulers had power and wealth. This local ruler had been sent to be educated in England and had many Western friends who would visit. One young British visitor stayed with him one night and was mysteriously found dead the next morning. After that, no visitor could spend the night in this palace, all swore the palace was haunted by the spirit of this dead man. Even the Westerners swore to this, swore that they had seen or heard the dead man’s spirit, and all believed it.”
“Did you?” Carlotta ask
ed.
“Well, when young I did. The point is, though, that Bahiri had a similar story from where he was raised. The more we talked, the more we realized how much we shared, even the stories that scared us as children. And we decided that we had a shared vision - to eradicate those beliefs that held people back. Your culture provides many things. It also can hold you back. Our common stories helped us bond, as if we were one bound together.”
“You are very fortunate,” Kay said wistfully, glancing once again in Karen’s direction. “We have such complicated lives these days. We try to balance so many different…obsessions. Sometimes, the effort becomes exhausting.”
“But it can be done,” said Agnes in her sweet voice. Those who met Archie’s spouse always had difficulty deciding why she seemed so wholesome and trustworthy. Was it her graying hair and almost premature grandmotherly look or the sweet lilt in her voice? Perhaps it might be the translucent, green eyes. In any case, people trusted her implicitly, and listened as if she was parting with considerable wisdom. “If people love one another, they find a way, they always find a way. Certainly, Archie and I have for all these years. It did not start well, my mother never wanted me to marry him. My family was Catholic, and he was Protestant. That was important to them in those days, seems silly now. We ran off, had nothing at the time. But I worked hard, and Archie studied hard, and we made it. My mother refused to speak to me for ten years. One day, she came and cried. She thought I could not or would not forgive her. Silly woman, I never stopped loving her. Whatever mountains appear before you, they can be surmounted. Just never stop loving.” She looked at her husband with great fondness.
After what seemed like a long time, Kay spoke. “You know, I remember something that happened when I was a college student. One summer, a girlfriend and I went on a trip. We wanted to see some of the country before we got too serious about our careers. We didn’t have much of an itinerary, just followed our instincts while looking for things outside our normal lives. You know. We were just crazy kids, looking for a little bit of adventure and maybe a better understanding of our world. Anyways, we met these girls from an Indian reservation somewhere in the mid-west.” She paused as if she were trying to recapture the memory. “They were from a place called Cherry something…yes, Cherry Creek, in South Dakota. We met in some country bar and somehow just started talking. Eventually, they took us there, to show us their world. I had never seen such a bleak place. It seemed like one of those barren landscapes where nothing could grow. The Cheyenne River flowed through that God-forsaken place stuck in the middle of nowhere.” Kay paused as if retrieving the remainder of her story. “It was ungodly hot, and we wanted some relief. I walked into the river and the Indian girls laughed. When I emerged from the water, I was caked with silt that was being swept along. Well, that means nothing I suppose. But these girls wanted to hear about our world. I never talked about my wealth and status, but my girlfriend and I did chat a lot about college. They seemed fascinated, so I guess we tried to let them know what college life was like. They had not known anyone who had gone beyond high school. At the end of the visit, and this I remember the most, one of them said she was going to go to college. It wasn’t said casually. She was adamant. She was going.” Kay smiled. “Of course, I never believed her. How could she go from where she was to college? But what stayed with me is that meeting us changed her aspirations. College had never entered her head before. What if she had been exposed to it earlier or had some support? Some kids, even in America, just never have a chance, never. We can do just a little to bring opportunity to those who never had a chance. Only a few will take advantage but only a few would make it all worthwhile.”
