Contrary to the focus of my academics, I've never really considered myself much of a sociologist, and I'm definitely not a journalist. However, I like to people-watch, and I enjoy reading the news. I've been doing a lot of both lately, and India is the perfect place.
Ever since I worked at MAP, I have made an effort to get tested fairly regularly. It's not something I make a big deal about, and I've done it enough times to know the deal. It had been over a year since my last test, and I was "compelled" to go and get a test here in India. The process of testing was much more interesting than the result.
The process started over a week ago when Physics (my hand-holder and fellow testee) and I went to the Safdarjung hospital to try and do the deed. We caught the testing centre just as they were closing, and after wandering in and out of empty hospital rooms full of centrifuges and apparently used blood vials and syringes, we were asked some intrusive questions in the hallway and told to come back another day. Today was that day.
I come from a background of working at an HIV/AIDS organisation, as have many of my friends. At this point, I know the process of counselling and data collection for the department of health. They seemed to skip that here, at least before the test itself.
The nurse giving me the test pulled a syringe out of his desk, which was covered with a bowl of used cotton swabs, bloody syringes, and open vials filled with my predecessors' "samples." He didn't change gloves between Physics' blood-draw and mine, but he did wipe the area with some antiseptic and it was over quickly. He sent us on our way.
The counselling session took place after the test. It consisted of me sitting across the desk from a woman who diligently asked me questions about my life. None of the questions had anything to do with my sexual history or behaviours.
In order to get them to give us a test in the first place, Physics and I had to lie and tell them it was required for our work. Since I'm not working, I had to think of a quick lie when she asked what kind of job required this. I blurted out UNICEF, which was the first thing on the top of my head since I am pursuing an internship with them. This definitely made her a little more nervous and put her on guard. I have no doubt that most of the funding for her testing centre comes through UNICEF and the WHO.
At any rate, she filled out the counselling form while I silently looked on over her shoulder. For the national statistics on testing and HIV/AIDS, apparently I am married, have had only one sexual partner in my life, am 27, and live in Canada. Funny. And this all comes on the heels of the announcement this week that India's infection statistics may be grossly underestimated. I wonder how data with such integrity could ever be wrong!
Flown by mariposa at 10:45 PM on April 22, 2005
