The Leprosy Colonies

On Tuesday and Thursday, we got to go to the leprosy colonies. Both days were amazing, and I know I won't ever forget the memories I made there. 

We had an orientation on leprosy Monday night, to prepare us for the next day. It got me thinking about the disease, and the social stigma tied to it. Sixty percent of the cases of leprosy are in India. The reason? People see they have leprosy and instead of getting the easy treatment, they hide it. They hide it because when others see they have the disease, they treat them like they are dirty. If a person has leprosy, their entire family becomes isolated in society. One leprosy patient told the volunteers that when he contracted the disease when he was only seven. He overheard his parents arguing about what they should do--they had daughters to marry off that wouldn't be able to find suitors if they knew about the disease. He felt so bad that he ran away. He's now in his sixties and hasn't seen his family since then. The institution of the caste system hasn't been in place for many years, but the mindset still exists. 

So not only do people have leprosy, they are outcasts. People think they are dirty and treat them as such. And imagine, if other people treated you that way, you'd feel dirty too. Unloved and unwanted. These were the sort of people we went to help.

When we arrived, we jumped out of the van and began unloading the supplies. There were several stations. First, someone would check the patient's blood pressure and write up their paperwork. Next, someone would remove the patient's bandages. These were bandages on the feet which were covering ulcers. Someone would wash the feet of the patient, then rub oil on their legs, as the disease causes dryness. 

One of the signs of leprosy is the arm muscles contract, causing the hands to bend at the joints.

Brianna checking blood pressure.

This lady was so cute, she was so happy and talkative. We all sat on her bed and played games and she just laughed.

 It was a little difficult to communicate because of the language barrier. I officially know two words in Tamil--"Nandri" (thank you) and "Vanakkam" (a greeting)-- and the leprosy patients knew about as much English. Still, I felt like we could communicate happiness and love, and those are universal languages. It was amazing how happy these people were despite their circumstances. I was taking off one lady's bandages on her hand. It was difficult to unravel, and so she was trying to help me by twisting her hand in a circle to unwind the bandage. It was rather funny, and we both burst out laughing. It was a precious moment. 

 "I see God in every human being. When I wash the leper's wounds, I feel I am nursing the Lord Himself. Is it not a beautiful experience?

The poor give us much more than we give them. They’re such strong people, living day to day with no food. And they never curse, never complain. We don’t have to give them pity or sympathy. We have so much to learn from them." 

-Mother Theresa