They started as trekkers— till they looked beyond the hills and trees

IT was a trek in the rarefied heights of Kumaon 12 years ago that changed MilanNag’s life. The spirit of adventure had been there for years and it had even led thecollege-going Nag and a few of his friends to open a bank account and use the savings tofinance their climbs and treks in the mountains. But that particular journey to Jatulivillage, where the roadhead ends and the mountains begin, turned out to be different. Theyoung trekker and his friends found themselves trying to save an eight-month-old baby boyfrom a ravaging fungal infection using pills and cream from their limited medicine kit.The boy recovered, but the experience was a revelation for Nag and his friends. "Werealised that in these far-flung mountain villages, the hill people were badlyneglected," says Nag. "Medical help is so remote."

For the next four years, between treks and a nine-to-five job as a draughtsman with aleading Calcutta-based consultancy firm and a near-fatal brush with hepatitis, Nag and hisfriends pondered about combining adventure with social service. Various mountaineeringclubs vetoed their idea saying it was unrealistic to combine serious climbing with socialwelfare activities. But Nag and his friends thought otherwise: they formed the HimalayanMedical Camp, a voluntary organisation of nature lovers and doctors, in ’92. Thatyear they kicked off with a trek to Chamoli in the Garhwal Himalayas with a 15-member teamof climbers and post-graduate medical students, donated medicines and some equipment. Byall accounts, it was a stunning success: some 1,000 patients from 13 villages trooped intotheir makeshift camps for free treatment.

Seven years on, this fledgling, low-profile group of climber-activists has trekked inthe clouds of the Himalayas on four occasions, treating some 3,000 villagers and carryingout over a hundred eye operations. All free of cost, of course. For their sterling work,the group has earned the praise of such legendary climbers as Edmund Hillary and ChrisBonnington. "Why only trek and enjoy nature?" asks the soft-spoken Nag."Let us try to give back something to the people in the process as well."

Indian hill people usually suffer from gastric ulcers, skin diseases and severe eyeproblems. With the closest health centres usually some 8 to 10 km away, timely medicationis almost an impossibility. Sure enough, Nag’s trekking group— usuallycomprising of a dozen or more climbers, doctors and porters lugging around 1,200 kg ofequipment and medicines provided by Calcutta’s Gujarati Relief Society— is a hitwith Himalayan villagers: "We are welcomed profusely wherever we go now." Nowonder, considering the relief they are providing to people in these neglected areas. InLeh, where there was not a single eye surgeon for four years until the group arrived therein ’92, even the local politicians’ children and a governmentpaediatrician’s daughter were treated for eye problems at the group’s mobileadventure medical camp.

But now their biggest challenge beckons the group. Next March, Nag plans to take a36-member group, including 12 ace climbers, to the mother of all expeditions: a MountEverest summit from the south side. A stretched 15-day trek from Lukla in Nepal to thebase camp will be used to treat patients, conduct hepatitis tests and run A I D S a w areness campaigns. A whopping Rs 2 cro re will be needed to fund the expedition. At home,the West Bengal government takes little interest in such activities: the bankrupt stategovernment refuses to cough up even token grants of a few thousand rupees to thisapolitical group. But if you want to lend a helping hand and enable Nag’s team toclimb the Everest and treat thousands of poor hill people, write to him at 22/3 NakuleswarTola Lane, Kalighat, Calcutta 26, or call him at (33) 4668752.