Publication: DE KAT, 1 September 2010

When three young women name a government hospital in rural KwaZulu-Natal as their choice for their internship, they expect to work hard. They expect to see shocking cases - KwaZulu-Natal is not called the Aids capital for nothing. And they expect minimum pay and very basic accommodation.

What they do not expect and are not at all prepared for is how this year will change the rest of their lives. Rosamund Kendal was a medical student who, after obtaining her degree, needed more from life. Different from most normal souls who pack up for a year in the sun, this graduate enrolled for a master's degree in creative writing at the University of Cape Town.

Karma Suture, her debut novel of 2008 and the funny, yet moving story of a medical student in her final year, was the result. With The Angina Monologues Kendal again finds inspiration in her personal life: this time her own year of internship in KwaZulu-Natal. And, as in Karma Suture, the vicissitudes of life in a government hospital where lack of money and sound governance is part and parcel of each day, comes under the knife once more.

But instead of one main character, there are three: three dissimilar young women who present themselves at the Prince Xoliswe Hospital in the lush and muggy Tugela Ferry of northern KZN for the start of their year as resident doctors.

Rachel is the well-groomed, spoilt Jewish princess from Cape Town whose life is controlled by her adoring parents. Her greatest yearning is to free herself from her mother's apron strings - plus she never imagined that the process would start with the pumping of her own bath water from the rainwater tank.

Nomsa is the daughter of a domestic worker, who has been given the opportunity to become a doctor through her mother's employer. Her graduation gift to herself was a silver BMW - the symbol of her new life without the baggage of her mother's culture. And yet her heart aches with longing at the thought of her simple parental home...

The petite Seema is the quiet, well-educated and brilliant Hindu girl who lives in the married quarters with her sulky husband. Her challenge is to find her voice - especially against her parents and a husband who believes that a woman should know her place.

There is a good reason why the title is a word play of the almost homonymous play, The Vagina Monologues. Being a medic and a woman is still a double challenge - even in 2010. The action includes several funny moments with sleepy doctors unfamiliar with the new routines, stoic rural people who have little patience for pus-filled wounds and the at-times bizarre things that happen behind the scenes of life and death.

On a more serious note the reality of government corruption and Aids is hardly disguised by a thin layer of fiction. During interviews Kendal has acknowledged that she finds herself in a unique position. As a writer and a doctor she can convey certain truths more accessibly in the form of a story (and the colourful, attractive cover design of her books is the first step). And so the poor superintendent at Prince Xoliswe is dripping in jewels while her cousin, Dr Zamla, is the reason why all the resident doctors need to take turns to work double shifts. Thanks to his flourishing private practice he's never there for his hospital shifts. When he is appointed as chief doctor the protest lasts only one meeting before the doctors return to their daily task - one patient at a time, with an eye on the clock, so that not one more precious minute is spent on one while one hundred more wait.

But the humanity in the book is never overshadowed by these dark issues and the eventual picture is one of what it entails to be a doctor in our country today - in all its light and shadow, its vulnerability and small victories.