The Eye Hospital
Calcutta! I couldn’t wait to go. First of all, I was excited that Fulbright had asked me to attend the orientation for the Indian Fulbrighters headed to the United States. What a great opportunity it would be to meet interesting people, not to mention being put up in a fancy hotel.
Second — I mean, Calcutta! As the second biggest city in India and the capital of West Bengal, I had heard it was a great place to visit — culturally and historically rich, great food, and great markets. I knew I had a pretty packed schedule with moderating one panel, speaking on another panel, and being a resource person, but I figured I would at least get to some highlights.
On the flight from Delhi, my left eye started feeling like it had sand in it, and by the time I reached the conference hotel, the eye was very red with a continual stream of tears. Worried that I perhaps had a corneal tear, I asked the Fulbright staff for help and they promptly found me the best eye doctor in Calcutta who practiced at a hospital not too far away. As I had been living in Delhi for 5 months by then, I was pretty confident I could handle this myself (with the help of an Uber ride).
The word “hospital” in my hometown of Buffalo makes me think of the wealthy families who have donated their money and names to vast glass buildings with high-ceilinged rooms adorned with potted palms and local art. When the Uber driver dropped me at the Shree Govindbhai Patel Eye Hospital, I had to double-check with him that it was the right place because I didn’t see a sign. Just lots of people.
As I entered what seemed to be the main entrance, amid a lot of other people, I wondered why I thought I could handle this myself. My almost 10 phrases of Hindi would not be helpful at all (please bring me a gin and tonic, let’s go, take me to the restaurant, go away, thank you, how are you, I live in Delhi, etc etc.). But consistent with my past experience, the person I had to sign in with luckily knew some basics in English and directed me to the second floor. I had to again sign in in a huge waiting room surrounded by small examination rooms. I saw the top-notch eye doctor right away (who was fluent in English) who took a lot of care in examining my eye, diagnosed me with an infection and prescribed drops.
When I was trying to figure out when and where to pay, I realized I would have to dig up my insurance information from Fulbright. Darn, I thought, I didn’t recall putting that information on my phone. I figured I would pay and get reimbursed.
The bill was 50 rupees, which was about 60 cents (not dollars, cents). I would much rather have that price than the potted palms and the local art. The eye drops, on the other hand, were about 6 dollars.
I spend the rest of the conference with either a cold compress on my eye, resting it, wearing my outdated and scratched glasses while I gave presentations, mingling with fascinating Indian Fulbrighters, and getting the eye re-checked (not at all hard to get in for a follow-up check). Calcutta, sadly, would have to wait for another day.
Me getting ready to present on diversity in US universities — with my glasses.
Group shop of Fulbright Conference attendees, including Indian Fulbrighters and some of the presenters and moderators (I was at the eye hospital).
