Englishman in Bandung

By Vodkaman

Nonon

Introducing Nonon, at least that is what I thought she said, unfortunately, I did not have my notebook with me today. This was just too cute not to blip though. Just look at those eye lashes.

The Bandung story - part 18

Just in case you got the impression that Indonesia was purely a source of entertainment, fun and giggles, I thought I should at least write of one experience that demonstrates the stark reality of this part of the world. Such a story is not limited to just Indonesia but many of the fiscally poorer countries around the globe.

This happened several years later, after Tesa and I had separated and I was working away on a contract. Tesa's brother's wife, Yulia was pregnant for the first time and like nearly all mothers to be in this part of the world, I would hazard a guess at a percentage in the high 90's, she decided to have her baby at home, in the campung (village), putting her faith in the experience of village elders.

The maternity hospitals are available, providing a very good service. It is a question of money, the average Indonesian simply cannot afford to pay for hospital care, the enormous expense simply cannot be justified when you can have your baby naturally at home, for free. It is not a case of simply saving a bit of money, rather the money required is just not available, not even close.

As you probably have already realized, things did not go to plan and if you stop reading now, I would understand, as the rest of this story is going to get painfully graphical. If you are squeamish or easily upset, then please DO NOT read the italic paragraphs! I don't apologize for this as I feel it is necessary in order to convey some reality of the struggles of Indonesian life.

After some two days of labor, it became very obvious that things had gone badly wrong and the village elders were woefully out of their depth. So Yulia was transported to a hospital by taxi. It was discovered that the baby had very sadly died.

The baby still had to be delivered and the only way to do this was to remove the brain and collapse the head. After delivery, the brain was replaced and the head stitched up. The baby was wrapped up and given back to the mother.

With no more money for taxis, they returned to the village using public transport, angkotan kota, which is a small van with bench seats inside. Yulia had to contain her grief and pretend that the baby was still alive, in order to be allowed to travel on the angkot.

The baby was named and buried in the middle of the night, with just close family in attendance. I cried for days and had trouble sleeping for a long time after. I was frustrated that I was not able to help.

As a happy post script to this story, a couple of years later, Yulia had a baby by planned caesarian section, for which they struggled to save up half the cost and I paid the rest.

Yes the British NHS has lots of deficiencies and problems caused by government interference and fiscal cuts, but you should appreciate what you have and fight for it. Don't let them take it away. Try a Google search on 'infant mortality' and have a look at the world statistics, just horrific.

To be continued.

Dave

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