“My headaches feel like a belt tightening around my head,” said the businessman asdark red blood drizzled from his head into a small bucket placed between his feet. “Just afew hours after this treatment, the pain will be totally relieved.”
The doctor, who stopped the bleeding once the flow slowed to a light drip, said thetreatment was to release the heat from the patient’s blood.
At the nearby Hohhot Zhongmeng Hospital specializing in traditional Chinese andethnic Mongolian medicine, 59-year-old Gerilesaihan was receiving a “fire treatment”,which involves being massaged with flaming oils. “I heard the hospital here is good and,when I first came in May, I was on crutches and unable to speak,” said the herdsman fromBayanhongor in the People’s Republic of Mongolia, who has also had acupuncture andcupping therapy. “I regained the ability to speak after the first treatments.”
Waiting for relief
As word of mouth about traditional medicine has spread, and as people generallybecome more health-conscious, practitioners in Hohhot, the regional capital, and on theChina-Mongolia border in Erenhot say they have witnessed a steady increase in customersover the past five or so years.
Patients at a clinic run by Surongzhabu, who in 2009 was listed among the 30 mostrenowned doctors of traditional medicine in China by the Ministry of Health, have to waitin line for about 30 minutes for a ticket to see him.
To build on the popularity of ancient ailments, authorities in Inner Mongolia arenow attempting to revive the old system as a way to preserve the region’s heritage andcomplement modern medicine.
“When modern treatments face bottlenecks in dealing with diseases like cancer,cardiovascular disease, diabetes and high blood pressure, people come back to traditionalmedicine,” said Burendalai, deputy dean of Inner Mongolia Medical College’s school ofMongolian medicine.
However, practitioners say more must be done if the traditional ways are to bepreserved and developed.
Temuqile, who has been practicing for two decades at Hohhot Zhongmeng Hospital,said the revival could be in jeopardy if the authorities do not increase support.
“The resources are not enough to meet the growing demand,” said the 42-year-old, ashe stood in his clinic surrounded by patients with needles in their faces and glass cups ontheir backs.
Beds are always in short supply at the Inner Mongolia Hospital. Although it has 500beds allocated for traditional medicine, it often has more than 600 registered in-patients,according to its vice director, Wulijitegusi.
Help is on the way, though, with 25 hospitals specializing in traditional Chinese andethnic Mongolian medicine now under construction across the autonomous region.
Among the projects is the International Mongolian Medicine Hospital in Hohhot,which will have room for 700 beds and be able to handle 1,000 outpatients a day. The 18-floor building is scheduled for completion in 2010.
In addition to new facilities, many also argue that some of remedies need to be updatedfor the 21st century, albeit carefully. “Doctors used to massage patients with milk cream,which could be considered too smelly now,” said Surongzhabu. “Putting fresh sheep skin on awoman’s stomach to cure a cold womb (menstrual cramps) is not very practical, either.”
Agula, director of Inner Mongolia Medical College’s school of Mongolian medicine,agreed and said the system needs to be revised to come in line with international standardsand modern technologies.
“Mongolian practitioners that detect illness mostly by touching veins and observingpeople’s faces and complexions need to get to grips with new technologies that are moreaccurate,” he said. “Treatments also must become more sophisticated.”
One thing is for sure, added Luhaiwen, director of Erenhot Hospital: “Mongolianmedicine cannot survive on its own. It needs to be combined with modern medicine andtraditional Chinese medicine to have the best effect.”
Putting a stain on training
Only about 200 of the more than 2,000 historic Mongolian remedies on recordare still in use today. Some have been forgotten, while some cannot be made because ofrestrictions on the use of animal parts and poisonous ingredients.
Unlike traditional Chinese medicine, ethnic Mongolian medicine is mostly made upof powders and pills, which were easy for nomads to carry.
Although doctors traditionally prescribe combinations that are specific to patientsand their problems, Surongzhabu said young practitioners often struggle to learn all thetreatments. He expressed disappointment that hardly any of his students had been able tolearn all his knowledge.
Orphaned at 14, the 81-year-old medic was adopted by a monk at a lama temple whotaught him the craft. “For six years I watched him treating patients, memorizing remediesand making medicine every day,” said Surongzhabu, who went on to qualify as a doctor atuniversity and now specializes in cardiovascular disease and cancer.
“I have recorded all my recipes in my books but hardly anyone has bothered to studythem seriously,” he continued. “For esophagus cancer and stomach cancer, I can elongatepatients’ life and reduce their pain.”
At one time, every doctor could perform every therapy, but that is no longer the case.
One expert claimed medical college graduates must study for another five years before theycan successfully practice Mongolian medicine, something many are unwilling to do. “Thereare fewer experienced doctors to carry on the system,” said Minggenbayaer, 69, a renownedpractitioner specializing in acupuncture.
B. Jigmed, former dean of Inner Mongolia Medical College’s school of Mongolianmedicine, called for a new college to be set up that educates students in the “strict, oldfashionedway”.
“Mongolian medicine is not just a collection of ethnic medicines in China,” said the72-year-old. “It is an important part of medicine for the entire world.”
