(Excerpted from Memories that Linger: My journey through the world of disability
by Padmani Mendis)

With their experience in Vietnam, Radda Barnen (RB) then included childhood disability and CBR (Community Based Rehabilitation) in many of their other country programmes. Soon after their own tragedy under Pol Pot, I was in Cambodia next door; then across to Yemen, first the two Yemens which were divided as north and south and then again after it was united as one; also to Guinea Bissau and the Cape Verde islands in Africa. For Afghan professionals working in disability we conducted frequent courses in Peshawar, Pakistan. International workers did not go into Afghanistan for any length of time in those days.

For all these years of guidance and companionship I enjoyed from Kristina Fenno, she is forever remembered. Kristina was Sweden’s former Children’s Ombudsman. Now still using her love of children everywhere, she was at Radda Barnen part time. She once said to me, “Padmani, I join you whenever I can because every time I do I learn something new.” One of the greatest compliments I have ever had, and this from an outstanding lady.

Meeting disabled people in all these countries was my good fortune. Working with Radda Barnen was an important part of that. Which took me often to Sweden and to my great good fortune to know the Swedish people, to learn from them and I believe, to have been loved by them.

International Child Health Unit, Uppsala University, Sweden

I was carrying out my first task for Radda Barnen and located at the Provincial People’s Committee Meeting Complex in My Tho, the capital city of Vietnam’s Tieng Giang province. The course was to increase the capacity of mid-level workers in the health system to carry out tasks in CBR. We had planned it to be a one-month long course. Mid-level workers included assistant doctors, nurses, Red Cross workers and others. With a maximum three-years of basic training. This I think was the first exposure the provincial health system at this level had to any international support.

And so, this was the first such learning experience for these participants, and they were enjoying it. They responded unexpectedly to my learner-centred teaching methodology. The workshop atmosphere was relaxed and intensively participatory, the sessions a continuous interactive dialogue. All of us enjoyed learning through debate and discussion. Such a different teaching-learning experience from the formal lecture-based one I had in the People’s Republic of China. But which I had also enjoyed in a very different way.

My national counterpart and interpreter through my many years of work for RB in Vietnam (VN) was Dr. Tran Trong Hai. His own relaxed approach to teaching and his sense of humour added to the whole experience for all. Dr. Hai was, incidentally, a Consultant in Childhood Disability. He was the Director of the Rehabilitation Department at the Olaf Palme Institute for Children in Hanoi, the only such specialised hospital in the country.

Dr. Hai’s boss in Hanoi was Prof. Nguyen Thu Nhan, the director of the hospital. Her support enabled CBR to grow rapidly in VN. Olaf Palme was the Swedish Prime Minister I mentioned earlier in this section. It was in this context that he recognised VN soon after her victory over the Americans. With diplomatic relations established and an agreement on what was then called “Aid”, and now called “Development Cooperation”. Sweden was only country to do this at that time.

Prof. Yngve Hofvander

With contribution from Dr. Hai’s unending store of tall stories and jokes there was much fun and laughter in the classroom. At times excessively loud. I was conscious that another teaching course had started that day about a week after ours on the floor beneath us, but not what it was about. Until, as we closed for that day, a stranger came hastily up the stairs to talk with me. He was tall, well-built and both light-skinned and light-haired. Hard to say blond; obviously a Swede.

This is how I met Professor Yngve Hofvander, Head of International Child Health or ICH of Uppsala University, Sweden. The second Viking to have a strong influence in changing the course of my life. The first was of course Einar Helander. Hofvander had inquired from the health people what was happening upstairs with all that noise. Being told it was someone from Sweden he came as soon as he could to meet me.

I had first to tell him all about what I was doing and who I was. And then I found out that he himself was teaching a group of Primary Health Care doctors about neo-natal care and the importance of breastfeeding in infancy. This was, I found out later, an area of health for which he was known the world over. He had been to the local market that afternoon with his group to look for tools such as weighing scales and other instruments they could adapt and use for monitoring the growth of babies.

He was in My Tho for only two days. We spent both evenings together. Saying, “there was so much to talk about,” is too obvious. One significant question he had for me related to the fact that his staff in Uppsala had suggested that the International Child Health Unit initiate international education on CBR for professionals. Being colleagues, he had talked about it with Einar. And what did I think about it? You know what my answer was.

From Vietnam to Uppsala University, Sweden

So it was one November soon after, I was myself at the ICH, at Uppsala University, as the principal resource person on a course called “International Course on Disability in Developing Countries”. And I continued to be invited for it, I think, for a period of eight or nine years. My module called “CBR” was usually four days and the longest on the course.

Each course module was carefully evaluated. And for the best evaluation on each course, I had a competitor, a senior Swedish medical teacher at the ICH. When I received the evaluation by post each year, my most urgent task was to compare our two evaluations. And happy I am to say that I was seldom disappointed.

Every course had participants from Scandinavian countries as well as from some developing ones. These countries were some that I had been to before and could reference. In a few instances participants had their sponsors invite me to visit them later.

It was in this way that Tarja Ihamaki had the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland invite me to Namibia on two occasions. Once to introduce CBR and the other to carry out a holistic evaluation of their disability work.

Doctor of Medicine, Honoris Causa

One year, it was probably 1989, while I was carrying out my teaching module, I noticed that at regular intervals, various ICH staff members would come in to sit quietly as observers at the back of the lecture room. This was obviously deliberate. I took no notice of it. Well, I had no other choice really. Three months or so later I knew what it had been about. The staff were, in their own way, assessing me. Assessing my suitability for something very, very special – a recommendation they would make to Uppsala University through the Faculty of Medicine.

In May 1990 Uppsala University awarded me a Doctorate in Medicine, Honoris Causa, In recognition of my contribution to the global development of CBR as a strategy for the upliftment of the quality of life of disabled people in developing countries. This was beyond my wildest expectations. To me it was recognition of CBR from a global academic leader renowned for its search for scientific knowledge. I came to know later that Alfred Nobel too received an honorary doctorate from the same university just over a hundred years before me.

Uppsala University invited me to the convocation to be held on June 01, 1990. Yngve was my formal host on behalf of the University. I was to be in Uppsala for three days and he had the task of arranging a programme for me. He asked me what I would like to do. I said, could I please visit Linkoping University. I had read about the work they were pioneering in problem-based learning. Later I adapted what I learned there to my own teaching in CBR.

The Convocation

June 1st was a Friday. It was shortly before seven in the morning and there we were, a happy group sitting on the grassy hillside of Uppsala Castle. Overlooking the Linnaeus Botanical Gardens. A tradition observed by Yngve and his lovely wife Ruth-Marie was that, whenever they had someone associated with the ICH being given a special award like this, they hosted breakfast on the grounds of Uppsala Castle.

Yngve and Ruth-Marie had invited all the ICH staff. Also those who knew me from Radda Barnen in Stockholm. So there we were a group of around 20 or so. Ruth-Marie was a specialist and a teacher of cookery. She had prepared the most delicious Swedish open sandwiches and other finger foods. Served with piping hot coffee. Partaken over conversation and camaraderie at a joyous get together. On the morning of a very special day for me – the convocation. I was to become an Honorary Doctor.

But why were we here so early in the morning? Because when the Uppsala Cathedral clock struck seven, the two huge guns placed on the castle grounds would fire their cannon. One canon for each person who the University would make an Honorary Doctor that day. We had come to the castle grounds to listen to the canon that was fired for me. Later that morning a second canon would be fired for me. I’ll come to that soon.

By elevev that morning I was dressed and ready for the vehicle that would take me to the University. For the occasion, my sister-in-law Sita had helped me choose a silk saree in peacock blue with a striking broad pink and silver border and pallu. This was the most I had spent for a saree in the 51 years of my life until then – five thousand rupees.

As well as from Uppsala, the other honorary doctors were from the universities of Yale, New York, Cornell, Berkeley (California), Oxford, Manchester, Berlin, Osaka and Linkoping. Together with the would-be honorary doctors, special guests and university dignitaries, I was waiting in a large hall on the ground floor of what was called quite simply the “University Building”. It dated back to 1877. Seemed to be based on Greek architectural style, both the exterior and interior were magnificent. Corridor roofs and that of each room were a series of high domes supported by elaborate pillars rounding off at the top to extend their support to the domes. Everywhere from the dome to the floor was covered with statues, portraits, paintings, sculptures and carvings, many of the most intricate design.

Within this continuing magnificence, at 11.45 sharp we were taken in procession along a winding staircase to what is called the Aula or Auditorium. In China what would be called the Great Hall.

Leading us were flag bearers in colourful Swedish traditional dress, both young women and men students. Some carried flags of the university, others carried flags representing the Swedish provinces from whence they came. We, the special ones followed the Vice Chancellor with the university dignitaries following. Up the winding stairs we went and to our seats on the dais. And all this to the sound of resounding music. I feel the exuberance that overwhelmed me as if it was yesterday.

Events on Mount Parnassus

While on the dais, we first stood to the National Anthem and tribute to King Carl Gustav VI of Sweden who was the Chancellor of this prestigious university. This was followed by speeches – in the Swedish style, very brief. Soon it was my turn. My name was called by the Vice Chancellor.

I stood up and he read out my citation. He invited me to the podium. I moved forward recalling that I was to climb Mount Parnassus, the Greek Mount of Learning which was symbolised by the podium. And as I climbed up, the Vice Chancellor, standing at the mountain top extended to me his hand to symbolically help me up. At the same time saying, “Welcome, Mrs. Mendis.”

First, on my head he placed the traditional hat from the Faculty of Medicine symbolising freedom and power. And as he placed the hat on my head my second canon was fired from the Castle grounds. We heard it as close and as significantly as if it were outside the window.

Then on my ring finger he placed the doctoral ring of gold, symbolising faithfulness towards science and scholarship. The ring has engraved on its inside my name and the date of the convocation, and encircling it on the outside is the rod of Aesculapius, the Greek God of Medicine and son of Apollo.

To my hand he gave me an elaborate certificate of conferment. It confirms the rights that are due to doctoral graduates.

Thereafter, taking my hand again, he turned me around and saying, “Farwell Honorary Doctora Mendis,” he moved me to the steps. I came down from Mount Parnassus. An Honorary Doctor of Medicine of the University of Uppsala, Sweden.

More conferments followed, including that of doctoral degrees to Faculty Members. And then the Exit Ceremony, as elaborate as the one that brought us in. With the music as resounding. That anything Swedish based on their culture would be so full of colour, of tradition and of symbolism was a complete surprise to me. I had thought of the Swedes as being somewhat staid and matter-of-fact until I got to know them. They are sensitive, gentle giants filled with empathy and warmth and a concern for sharing.

And sentimental as I am, my two canon shells sit atop an antique cupboard, while the certificate is framed in one to match it and hangs on the wall nearby. Both positioned subtly but still to be seen by any visitor to my home. The hat is safe in my wardrobe and taken out once in a while, when I need strength. The ring on my finger is a constant reminder of all that I need to be reminded about.

The end of a Special Day

This was not the end of the ceremonies. A gala banquet followed in the evening and was held inside the castle. Hosted by the university. It was Yngve and Ruth-Marie who took me there. It was of course a white tie, tails and white waistcoat affair with the many who had decorations displaying them on their coats or round their necks. In spite of speeches and numerous toasts the evening came to an end all too soon.

There were two individuals who were constantly in my thoughts all through that special day. One, Gunnel – I missed her so. We would have shared the joy of the event together. And the other, Einar of course. It was he who started it all. In Solo, Indonesia, when we first met in December 1978. Now, in 1990 when he heard about my award he wrote, “You have got this only because you earned it… You have worked in a very low-status area and one in which prizes are seldom received.” Einar was particularly pleased because Uppsala was his Alma Mater. Through me, he had come full circle.

And with that must my memories of that day end.