3 Nov 2010: Meeting Ghane

Dr. Pant picks me up on  the corner of two roads near my hotel, which I'm really proud that I could find based on his rough directions and my first time setting foot in Kathmandu.

We drive in his car to Annapurna, and go upstairs to a room behind a curtain where the entire medical staff is already waiting - quite impressive. Dr. Pant explains something in Nepalese, and I briefly introduce myself and tell them why I am here and what I have set out to do.

After the briefing, I am introduced to Madhav Pradhan, President of CWIN, and he will take me to Paropakar to see Ghane!

Paropakar is 10 mins walk from Annapurna, and right across from the colonial-style government hospital is another modern private clinic - I can't believe that treating facilities of Ghane's condition are located so close by, without anyone ever thinking of taking her to any of these places.

What strikes me the most as we walk through the halls of Prasuti Griha, as the locals call Paropakar, is the smell: sweet, chemical, and unknown - I'll never forget it.

Walking through the doors to the Special Baby Care Unit, we take off our shoes and borrow some of the hospital sandals, put on an apron-like blue coat and walk through the front-room with the newborns lying in cots to each sides.

And then I'm there - stepping into the scenery of Mads Nissen's photo in Berlingske, the chair, the sink, the table with the baby bottle, the fussy toy-animal hanging on Ghane's chair - everything located as in Mads' picture;  and there she is, the little girl, lying on her back with naked upper-body and the rest of her wrapped in green hospital sheets, staring directly at me with alert eyes, her head as big as in the pictures, but not as big as I thought. But maybe I've just gotten used to it.

It all happens so fast and the room is full of nurses and the CWIN-guy, but I sit down at the edge of her chair and start chatting to her. She has severe problems controlling her eyes, they keep rolling downwards, and sadly, she strikes me as less capable and un-damaged than she appeared in the video-shot Dr. Pant had sent me a couple of weeks ago.

I have to go to a meeting with Dr. Pant - he takes me to his children's school where I meet his wife, daughter and youngest son. There is some kind of function, and we sit down on the ground and have a lunch consisting of Nepalese specialties, served in a ritual way. We take pictures and chat - but all I can think of is really to get back to that back-room and be with the little girl, spend time with her, get to know her.