Moles & Medicine

Differences in culture around the world also extend to medicine—health, perceptions of it, and medical treatments. To begin on an unusual note (but one remeniscient of Austin Power’s gawking over Fred Savage’s giant “mo-le” in Goldmember), something that's always bewildered me are the moles on Macedonians. They seem to all have them, and some are really quite large, even on kids (I walked by a teenage girl with one the size of a quarter on her upper back just recently). Older folks though definitely have them and some can be quite substantial, generally visible on people’s faces and arms.

My theory is it's all about people’s internal energies, their equilibrium. Here people have incredible social customs/constraints; they talk, eat, and drink a lot of coffee and alcohol, and don't get much aerobic exercise. It’s just a personal theory, but I think in particular the social stress and lack of aerobic exercise this makes for a social stress that contributes to a mole’s growth. It seems to be where the body channels some of its excess energy.

I’ve never had a conversation about moles with a Macedonian—because frankly, I don’t know where it would begin—but aspects of their homeopathic and medical traditions they’re happy to impart. On the surface they’re just different customs that we Americans are told about (and which as Peace Corps volunteers were imposed upon us!) by the loving friends and families we came to know here. They primarily include not walking around without slippers on (except for in the summer) inside; always having something on your feet when you’re outside; not going outside with wet hair (generally more of an issue for women); not having more than one window open in a vehicle, house, etc, for fear of causing “promaja”—a draft.

One is quickly scolded if he/she violates these customs of Macedonian society, as even on hot summer days you only might get away with having a couple windows open. But generally speaking, it’s taboo. Why is this? The concerns are of course that one will get ill from the cold and/or the moving air. To some extent this is legitimized by the more arid climate and the dry air. My theory is that cool dry air is more disturbing to the body than more humid air, such as many of us are used to in the US. It does seem to give one more of an ache in the neck if you’re exposed to it for long periods of time. But this doesn’t explain the instantaneous dislike of the draft by many Macedonians. No, it’s a fear that is somewhat a result of the climate but more so something cultural, and thus largely incomprehensible to many Americans. It is the air that is therefore the primary culprit. Having wet hair or breaking a sweat will allow the air to get right to you, and illness may very well follow.

One part of me always tries to understand and differentiate myself and my culture from this. But another part of me believes it’s half true. This week I’ve been sick, and I admittedly attribute it to walking barefoot and later biking outside in the rain Sunday and Monday. To me it was a pleasant rain, a cool relief from the heat. But it was also rather cold.

The remedies for illness are generally tea, use of brandy, and paracetamol—a common pain reliever in Europe. Indeed, for fever—which I’ve experienced several times in my life in this country including this week—the remedies include soaking socks in brandy and putting them on, and receiving a quick body massage with warm brandy, followed by being covered from head to toe and put under layers of blankets in order to force a sweat to break. Does it work? For me somewhat, but so does the body’s immune system. And further, I firmly believe it’s the same psychological process that allows placebos to work—individuals receive positive attention that reassures them, and therefore they heal.

Indeed, from a cross-cultural perspective what I always try to understand about treating illness is how people perceive potential illnesses, their vulnerability to them, and their consequent treatment. I’ve discussed the first and last of these, but it’s really the perception of vulnerability that can play such a role in actually getting sick. It can be legitimate, fore no doubt our immune systems do weaken and elements, viruses, and bacteria can do us harm. But the concern with illness here differs because it will generally be a result of the elements, not so much of microbiological organisms. In the US, we are always more concerned with the latter (except for in cases of hypothermia or extreme heat), fearing the common cold—a “bug” that is one of a hundred rhinoviruses that only prevails when our bodies get stressed or exhausted. Instead of looking at this as an illness should we not look at it as a measure of our body’s needs?

Regardless, here and at home it is my opinion that the key elements of illness and treatment are the same. We have preconceived notions of what might ail us, it does, and we treat it according to our customs and rituals, if you will. In the US it's generally what a doctor prescribes or a pharmacy provides. Here doctors don't prescribe, and pharmacies abound but they serve that societal yet healing purpose of assuring someone of their malady and suggesting they take some soluble paracetamol tablet, drink tea, and get rest. The rest is in our heads!