Of picketings and protests...

There was a big udgoshanaya outside the UGC yesterday, protesting the "politicizing" of appointments of the new graduate doctors. When I got to campus, the union was all active with members running around stencilling posters etc.

I like our students' union. They regularly piss off the maha shishya bala mandalaya of the University. Protests are limited to the lunch hour (nobody wants to miss classes). Our posters are notoriously tame... instead of the usual denu, karanu etc, it is denna, karanna - occaionally with a "please" or a "if it's not too much of a bother" thrown in. Yet we get great publicity 'cos of carefully cultivated media contacts. :)

I asked around and found out that this was because of the government decision to fill in the vacancies in the East with graduates from Jaffna University. I had a bit of time to think about it as I sat trembling in the Surgery Department, awaiting to be called for the "Long and Short Cases" of my final exam. Why was I here, decked up in a saree dry mouthed and petrified? Why were we doing these frickin exams in the first place? Examiners were coming from universities all over the Island, in order that the marks are standardised, because it's on these results that the common order of merit (the notorious "merit list") is set.

How fair is it to have to sit for all the standard exams, to get good marks and then be shoved off to the East for internship just because you studied at a particular university? Note, I have nothing against working there... if I am appointed to Trinco or Batti, I'd grit my teeth and go there determined to do a good job for the duration of my appointment. I'd just like to get that appointment on merit and not on a political whim.

I have the greatest respect for graduates of the Jaffna University and have been privileged to work with a few of them as my seniors (house officers, registrars etc.)They don't have half the facilities (to learn) as we have here in Colombo, some of them have been arrested by the SLA on various charges (this was about a decade ago), they have experienced dodging motars and scrambling into bunkers on the way to campus. They are friendly, hardworking and fun to work with. They are no less than any of the rest of us, and deserve to be treated equaly.

So these were the thoughts that ran through my mind as I listened to the faint sounds of the slogans in the distance. Then I was called in, screwed up the short cases, did reasonably well in the long case and will hopefully pass. Well, 13 down and 5 more to go... phew!

Fiddling away while the ship sinks...

There's a squeak of pure delight from a matey little mite
As it tortuously tunnels in the skin,
Singing "furrow, folly furrow, come join me in my burrow,
And we'll view the epidermis from within."
(Guy's Acarus)

Ok, I know that seems a little displaced, but I came across this little gem tucked in a corner of my dermatology text book... right next to the section on scabicides and how to squash the matey little guy out of existence.

I can't believe that after nearly a month of silence I'm blogging now, with only four more days to go for my final exams... shouldn't I be sitting somewhere with my feet in a tub of hot water, poring over textbooks? I guess I should... but I think I've reached the "lah-de-dah" stage of pre-exam panic where I no longer care if I get good marks or end up looking like a blithering idiot during a viva.

Of course my sang-froid is strongest during the daytime... cometh the evening panic rises up (along with gastritis) and I hear the voices of miscellaneous professors echoing in my head... "the results of this exam will mark you for LIFE!" Oh well... we'll see how it goes. Keep your fingers crossed for me people!

Blouse Blues

My dressmaker is very unhappy with me. After asking her to do me a complicated saree blouse design on a very tight deadline, I go for the final fit on... and the sleeves do not fit. In her own words "your arms have gotten unusually fat, haven't they?" Several dark mutterings and a few more measurements later, it turns out that not only are my arms fatter by almost an inch, one arm is fatter than the other!

Mums was most unsympathetic. She asked me what I expected after eating 6 slices of bread for breakfast everyday during the preceding 2 weeks. The "I told you so" went unsaid, but hovered in the background, flapping around in a pointed sort of way. Felt very downcast, but resolved not to cut down on the bread too much until after the blouse was worn... another refitting would have made poor Aunty tear out her hair in frustration.

Happily, I got the blouse, big sleeves and all, a full 4 hours before the party, so I guess all's well that ends well.

And in case you're wondering, it's a yellow blouse.

Happy Feet

I had my first ever pedicure and foot massage yesterday. Mmmmm...mmmm. Two hours of footsie bliss. I have never experienced such pampering, ever! As Dearly Beloved put it, it was the least I could do for them after all the standing/walking/running during the past six years.

I really liked the pedicure lady as well. She was full of amusing quips and anecdotes and wasn't too horrified at the sight of my feet. So she got out her kit and started gently rubbing off the dead skin with an exfoliator. About 2o seconds later, she gave me this exasperated look, rummaged around her basket and started going at my feet with something that looked like an industrial metal file! Was mildly embarrassed, but then the blissfull feeling just blossomed out again... and I forgot everything else.

Honestly though, some of the lotions and potions, not to mention the instruments, would cause even our well equipped surgical theatre to hang its head in shame. Oily stuff, salt like crystally stuff, cocoa butter, shea butter, other butter and scary looking pliers, clippers, mysterious forked instruments etc. After the clipping and rubbing, my feet were put into this warm bath which had little jets making the water all fizzy and bubbly. I was so thrilled at it all... I felt like the proverbial Banda on his first visit to Colombo!

I walked back to campus soothed, calmed and happy. My feet were happy too!

Hit counter - Ho!

I did it!! I've added a hit counter to my blog - and this after long phone conversations with more techno-savvy friends and several more long minutes peering at small print.

Cut and pasted the html with minimum difficulty.

Am feeling very pleased with self.

I think with a little practice I can actually get a hang of the whole technology thing... and move a step further from using the computer because I'm too lazy to write.

I didn't start off from zero, because that would be really really sad, but settled for a fairly modest strating point... even though 2657 seemed really tempting. It also goes up a notch everytime I view my own blog - e.g. when I went to see what this marvelous add-on looked like. That should ensure that my hits go up by at least one everyday!

Cheers!!

To booze or not to booze

I met Swarnapala* on the 103 bus last week while on my way to visit a preggy friend. He came up to me, grinning, and assured me that he was still guzzling his daily kassippu... "sometimes only 2 bottles Nona, but what to do... cost of living is going up."

Some of you may remember me moaning about him... this is the guy who turned up at our casualty in the wee hours of 14th April - the Sinhala Hindu New Year... the sort of festive season that only the obsessed and the unlucky hang around the hospital (myself belonging to the second group). His New Year resolution was to give up his habit of drowning his days sorrows in 2-3 bottles of moonshine and he had landed at his mother's place at an auspicious hour in order to be away from temptation while going cold turkey. Unfortunately, alcohol withdrawal delerium set in... he had a seizure, fell into a glass cabinet, split open his head and developed an intracranial bleed that needed immediate neurosurgery.

When I clerked him later that morning, he was lying on a gurney, feeling very sorry for himself. He had ample time to figure out the how's why's and wherefores of what happened to him... and lay there, covered with blood, quietly determined to start drinking again as soon as he got out of hospital.

This is the most skewed argument I have in favour of boozing.
Oh well...

_________________________________________
*His real name is much nicer

Festival of Light

Just got back from observing sil at Kanduboda and am feeling really happy about it. It's been ages since I've stepped into a temple and even though I didn't realize it, have been totally missing the cool quiet feeling away from the everyday messy-ness.

While meditating/dreaming by the pond, I also manged to get a picture of a splendid loooking kingfisher who dove in and out of the water... presumably bathing and not doing the whole panathipatha thing. The image is very fuzzy and small, despite full zoom... but got a good shot of the waterlillies. I guess it's acceptable for my first wildlife photograph. :)

On the way back I was surprised by both the number and variety of dansals along the road. From maha buth dansalas to kadala, sherbert and popsicle dansalas manned by kids with scabbed knees wielding limp buddhist flags, the roads were bursting with toothsome good will. I even noticed one organised by Waters Edge which had a HUGE queue!! It's nice to think that at least for these two days, no-one will be sleeping hungry. Of course, there are people like my questionable little cousin and his gang of friends who canvass for donations from the neighbours and run the yearly dansala at a respectable profit... enough for a good meal and some rented DVD's. Oh well....

Peaceful Vesak to all...