by Dr BASHIR QURESHI FRCGP, FRCPCH, FFSRH-RCOG, AFOM-RCP, London: author of Transcultural Medicine; expert witness in cultural, religious and ethnic issues in litigation; Emeritus Vice President of the Royal Society for Public Health, UK
MY FIRST English Christmas, on 25 December 1964, was a white Christmas, in a true sense. I was born in India, medically qualified in Pakistan and started work in Whipps Cross Hospital, East London.
I saw for the first time in my life that:
• The ground, trees, rose bushes and buildings were covered with snow.
• The patients, other doctors, the matron, nurses, paramedics, porters and all other staff including cleaners were white.
• There were some male nurses: this was new for me.
A charge nurse was called Mr Rowbottom. He was a cockney, born in East London within the sound of Bow bells.
Pearly kings and queens came to the hospital, sang carols and danced. I saw western dancing for the first time. England was peaceful.
Everyone looked happy and praised the Lord. I thought it was akin to what, I had been told, is in heaven.
The ward sisters waited for a male consultant to cut the turkey for Christmas lunch. He was wearing a Father Christmas costume. The atmosphere was magical.
On the Christmas Day ward round, as a houseman I was pushing a trolley full of bottles of wines and spirits. The consultant poured the patient’s choice in a glass and the ward sister, with an unusual smile, offered it to each patient, including the one with alcoholic cirrhosis, with the greeting: “Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year”.
I joined the nurses in carol singing, without opening my mouth. I did not know carols and the singing tone, but I joined in. Since then, I am skilled in team working.
Traditionally, ward nurses – called ‘sisters’ were very powerful under the matron’s rule. They even influenced consultants in decision making.
Ironically, I observed that one in three ward sisters was unkind to house doctors, especially to female doctors. However, their staff nurses were extremely nice. They were all nicer at Christmas time.
Fortunately, I was alright as I am very careful and tactful.
Charge nurses were merrier at Christmas. I
was amused, bemused and confused. What a new white world! As a child I had learned that angels were white and made of light.
Mr Rowbottom the charge nurse advised me on my first night round on that Christmas Day: “Doctor, write a laxative for each patient and the night nurse can choose to give it without waking you up to write for it.”
Then he winked and said: “If you keep their bowels open they will keep their mouths shut!”
I was taken aback as I knew that winking, by a male or a female, is a sexual gesture in the East! I was startled to see that a charge nurse was winking at me, a strictly heterosexual soul. I learned later on that ‘winking’ is a benign, friendly gesture in the West. No Easterner need to worry.
That was the beginning of my strong interest in pioneering ‘transcultural medicine’ – dealing with patients from different cultures.
That Christmas I had thick black hair, a moustache turning upward, a slim figure and no sense of humour. I was a typical Easterner, but many thought that I was very handsome. As a result of my age and westernisation over the past 45 years I shall not need a comb this Christmas and I am not a slim guy anymore, but I have acquired the British sense of humour, including satire. I enjoy western music and dancing; I like helping people; I hope to remain a jolly good fellow for many Christmasses to come.