Friday, August 28, 2009

So what was Cambodia like, anyway?

As if that is a question I could even begin to answer. I realized though, with all my rapid-fire blogging in my hour each week of internet, I never did tell you much about the country, at least nothing that would help you come to know the place I grew to love.

The first thing I remember was the traffic. Oh, it terrified me! I sat in the front of Bill's truck, just kind of staring as cars crossed into the oncoming traffic to pass, and motos flew in all directions. It took me a good three days of much travel in Phnom Penh to become at all accustomed to the flow of traffic, but it came in handy because in our long weekend in Vietnam, there was a constant stream of motos down the street and we crossed on foot with the specific instructions to not change our speed--and I was ok with that. Both on my first afternoon in Cambodia and then on my second weekend (when I played tourist with a few others), I went to market in Phnom Penh. These are crowded but utterly fascinating buildings filled with people--Khmer and visitor alike (though if you are Khmer, you will always get the better price). They sell everything from food to glasses and mops to shoes to beautiful silk scarves and table cloths. There is the constant sound of footsteps and vendors calling to you Madame! Do you like? and voices bartering for the best price. My second night, Bill and Marie-Claire took me to the night market in Phnom Penh (and miraculously, I made it until we got back to the ship at 9:30pm before I got really sleepy!). This is mostly just clothes and souveniers, though the market is again frequented by both tourists and locals. As we walked past the food vendors with their array of wonderful-smelling cookings, Bill warned that it is best to buy nothing from them, because such a huge percentage of food vendors in the city are infected with hepatitis A. It was a bit of sensory overload, but I loved to just watch the people wander through, watch the city be a city at night. After the ship had moved, Piseth took me to the village market. There, vendors mostly sold varieties of food, from the magenta drangonfruit (quite possibly my favorite Cambodian food) to pomelos (basically, sweet grapefruit) to cucumbers and pickles, to whole chickens and fish still swimming in small buckets of water. There were also electronics booths for cell phone etc repair (so many have cell phones and televisions despite having little else), places that sold clothes and flip-flops. I loved it, and much preferred it to those in Phnom Penh. In Phnom Penh, you know they cater to the tourist crowd and they are just filled with city and in a lot of ways, materialism. In the village, it simply felt like Cambodia, like this was how it was supposed to be, if that makes sense.

What else? Women and children very often wore prints and outfits that looked very much like pajamas. It took me a few weeks to get used to the notion of throwing our compostibles into the river. Only a few of the villages had electricity. Rick and Gail told me as we were walking on my last weekend that this village was well-off, because the people had tin roofs which are better in the rain. People would wear their best clothes when they came on the ship. Sometimes they looked terribly uncomfortable, and sometimes it broke my heart, but I appreciated the gesture all the same. Children were much more subdued with their parents than they were on their own, when they would yell hello to me for hours (though one little boy still kept looking at me and raising his eyebrows, which always made me laugh, and another little six-year-old without front teeth would just start laughing every time I looked at him). The beautiful Khmer women told me at least once (and probably more, I just happened to have a translator this time) that I should marry Khmer, for which I was a little grateful, because it meant they wanted to keep me around. Cambodia is so different than here, and yet I love it for some of its differences and in spite of others. The people there are so beautiful, and I know this does nothing to do them, or the country, justice.

Please pray for my Khmer friends, wish them safety and peace. Stay well and God bless you all. Thanks for listening :)

Monday, August 24, 2009

Home/Introducing the Crew

I have made it safely home from Cambodia, after 30 hours of travel on Friday (I know...a day is only 24 hours...I left Phnom Penh at 10:50 in the morning on August 21st and arrived in Anchorage at 9:30 the same day. How do you call the morning in Phnom Penh? Is it yesterday? Earlier today?), flying from Phnom Penh to Taipei to Anchorage to NY. After taking a cab from the airport, I finally made it to Christine's for the night around 1am (thank you Christine!). The next day, I took the subway from Christine's to Penn Station, was afraid I'd miss my train (which ended up being delayed, almost causing me to miss my bus) to Boston, from which I took a bus to Nashua, where my parents finally picked me up. I made it home at 9:30 Saturday night. It's been great so far to see my family--we had a barbecue yesterday where I got to see so many people, which was wonderful. I am doing well, other than battling jet lag. Seriously--why did my body decide to wake up at 5am when I had only fallen asleep at midnight and gotten no more than 5 hours of sleep in the last three days? But I'm not complaining. It's strange to think of Cambodia though. As I write now, it's 10:04am on August 24, and in Cambodia, it's 9:04pm on the same day. I think of what people are doing--I see Sokun sitting on the back deck, maybe talking to Hai, Linh, or the engineer, maybe alone reading his book on engines. If I were there, I'd more than likely still be on the back deck with him.

Being completely honest, I wish I were still in Cambodia. I love seeing everyone at home, and am looking forward to visiting everyone in NY next week, but I miss the ship more than I can say. I felt so at home there. The only consolation is looking at home everything worked, I know that if I were supposed to be there for longer, I would have been.

So let me introduce you to the crew that became my family after only a few days. I told them all when I left that when I come back to Cambodia as a doctor, I would track all of them down and hire them. Really, they are all beautiful spirits and some of the best human beings I have ever met.
Captain-He has a smile intermixed with golden teeth and incredibly kind eyes. When he focused, or was thinking or concerned about something, his brow would furrow. He cares so deeply about people, it's beautiful to witness. Outside of Bill/Rick, he has the most authority of anyone on the ship, because of his age and position (age is something highly respected in Khmer culture...so if he asked Linh to cook him something or someone to take watch for him, no one would refuse). He is fun-loving, compassionate, curious and highly intelligent, and works hard, whether he be driving the ship, painting, or meandering over to help me with triage (which meant mostly translating for me as best he could with his English).
Sam Ath-the engineer (meaning he worked on the ship's engines and spent most of his time during the day in the engine room). He wears thick glasses, drinks Vietnamese green tea, and has wicked mischevious eyes. He also cares very deeply for people, and surprised me in English class once with the complexity of his sentences. He's often quiet, but loves to cause affectionate trouble. He also loves to listen to music on his phone, and I will never be able to hear the word cyanara (I think I misspelled that one!) without thinking of the song he often played on it.
Dr. Tha-with the captain and Sam Ath, the third member of my English class. He would sit and think and work so hard until he got it--he really wanted to make sure he got everything right. He would get this huge smile too when he pronounced something correctly and I told him yes! He has a great kindness in him, and the ability to stick to a task. He loves to learn and does a great deal of good, seeing 65-70 patients a day during clinic.
Bun Roth-the pharmacist. He loves to smile and laugh, and has an amazing faith. He is the only one in the crew who is balding, and he wears glasses that slide down his nose. He has a beautiful daughter who turned 13 the weekend after we all met her on the ship, and he loves children with an amazing purity. I loved watching him with the kids who always gathered off the ship--you could see his open, genuine love on his face. He really and truly is a beautiful spirit and such a good person.
Linh-the cook and most recent hire--he started the week before I arrived. Oh man, is he a good cook. He can make both Khmer food and barang (American) food--on the team's last day, he made pizza for everyone. He works really hard, and has a great smile. Apparently I say ok more than I thought, because after a week, he would look at me, smile, and say ok! all the time. He studies English hard, and I always loved talking with him because he was a wealth of information about food, Cambodian culture, and many other things.
Daven-the nurse (well, he finshes nursing school soon), dental assistant, and my primary Khmer teacher. Especially in my first couple of weeks, he and I would sit after triage and he would steadily increase my Khmer vocabulary--and then quiz me on walks and later. He probably has more education than anyone on the crew, save the doctor, and has studied agriculture as well. He looked out for me and really took care of me, always making sure I was ok, always making me sit down. He also spoke English better than almost anyone in the crew, so he made for great company often.
Hai-the electrician (which basically means nothing--I am fully convinced Hai can do almost anything non-medical, and can fix everything). He fixes lights, air conditioners, and squeaky doors, keeps track of how much water we have left, chops plants off the anchor, and studies engines, Vietnamese, and English in his spare time. Although he rarely smiles for pictures (I think it's a cultural thing), he smiles easily and his eyes smile even more easily. My first impression of him was that he was a gentle soul, and I think I was right. He is one of the most beautiful people I've met, and he understood me well, because like me, he tends to be quiet and just watch and listen.
Sokun-the night guard. He was the first person I met on the ship, coming with Bill to pick me up at the airport because he had had an endoscopy that day (otherwise he goes to bed after breakfast), and the last person in the crew to whom I said goodbye. Honestly, he was probably the best friend I had on the ship. I taught him English mostly just by talking to him every night, and by the end, his confidence was up enough that he would speak English to everyone and wanted to return to formal lessons (I gave up those after my first with him simply because he became so frustrated with it that it was difficult)--I am so proud of how far his English came! He is softspoken and mellow, loves to smile. I loved to sit outside at night, and as a consequence, spent quite a bit of time with him. If I was having a bad mnoment (I never had a bad day), somehow he always made me feel better. I always felt bad telling him I needed to go to sleep.
Piseth-last but not least, the clinic coordinator, primary translator, and person who had been with the ship the longest. He has a great smile, loves kids (and people in general), and would burst into a room with a smile and ask what are you doing? He is truly one of the absolute best people I know. He does a little of everything and anything on the ship, from laundry to lab work to triage to fixing little things to buying clothes for the children. He currently wants to study to be a lab tech, but I hope he ends up doing something with people--he has tremendous gifts and an amazing capacity for love.

That was probably way more than you wanted to know, yet it doesn't even really begin to describe who these people are, or what they meant and will continue to mean to me. I promise more writing this week, now that I am home and have the time, that will try and describe the country and a little more of the experience of which I could only scratch the surface in my frantic quick posts on limited internet. Stay well, God bless, thanks for listening :)

Saturday, August 15, 2009

God bless the children

I am down to my last week in Cambodia, so next time you all hear from me, I will be back in the States (barring anything strange happening, anyway). I can hardly believe it; the time here has passed so quickly. It will be so hard to leave the boat, the Khmer family I have found in the crew (it feels like I have many older brothers who all look out for me and make sure I am ok), especially knowing that when I come back, whenever it is, things will be different. There will also certainly be some reverse culture shock. I am quite enjoying the simplicity of living on the boat, the only having what I brought, eating whatever Linh, the cook, makes, and sitting out at night on the back deck of the boat, staring at the stars, thinking, and talking to whoever comes out. There is something about a river that fills the soul.

The team left last Saturday, so things were back to normal on the ship, except that Dr. Rick is now here so we have a dentist and a physician on the ship, and triage involves a few more people. I've taken to calling people downstairs when Piseth is busy, and those waiting on the deck are very entertained at my bad Khmer. If I check people in, which involves asking name and age, those who are waiting are also very good at yelling the Khmer word for name at the patient if they give me the blank look with which I am so familiar (since I give it all the time). Still, I am getting more comfortable using the Khmer I know, which is exciting for me, and am finally doing what Hai told me to a few weeks ago, which is just speak it and get over the bad pronunciation, the need to be perfect, and the fear. That is thanks in large part too to a bunch of kids.

The last village we were at had a whole bunch of kids, my little friends as the captain calls them. They knew a bit of English, and so would stand outside the boat and shout hello to me as long as I would shout it back at them. We had a jump rope, so Saturday I went out with Piseth and Dr. Rick, and Sunday with Hai to play. The kids also love this game that involves someone hopping on one foot and trying to tag others....I don't think I ever tagged anyone when it was my turn, but I was pretty entertaining to watch, I think. The kids were a constant source of joy all week. I think every day except maybe Monday I went out to play with them after clinic ended. They were all so incredibly beautiful. On Thursday, I was with some of the crew at someone's house eating fish paste with some other strange things (not my favorite dish that I've had here, but better than it sounds), and the children ran back and forth from the house, where some older girls were waiting, to me, asking questions and dashing back with my answers. The questions ranged from what is your name and where are you from to do you love me? They were also fascinated by my camera, and as a consequence, I have about 200 pictures of little kids. It was so hard to leave them Friday. They all kissed my cheeks and wrapped their arms around me, and stood to wave until the ship was out of sight. I wonder what will be come of them, if they will remember us.

I will have taken something like 1000 pictures by the time I come home, and so I will certainly spend some of the week I'm home posting some for you all to see. It's impossible to capture anything close to what it's like here though, much in the same way there are no words to really tell you what I'm seeing here and how it is affecting me, what it means. To leave you with something fun though, the crew has realized that I will try almost anything and have made it their goal to get me to try as much as possible. Thus far, I've had sugar cane juice, fish paste, many different fruits and dishes, rice things, something in flour and tumeric, and I almost tasted rat (but Linh made me nervous--he tells me it's good...for people like me who like it). They also make soup with whole fish (including heads...which I don't eat), and entire chickens. I had a chicken foot once, and I looked at Hai and asked what do you do with it? and he told me to put the whole thing in my mouth and eat it, then laughed. Oh, the barang who knows nothing about how to eat Khmer (though I am learning!).

I will write again when I come home. Stay well, God bless, love you all! Thanks for listening :)

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Two Weeks with the Team

I figure that although I have a couple pre-written things and there's still so much I haven't told you, you'd probably rather hear about what I'm doing now, right?

For the last two weeks, we've had a medical team with us on the ship from AK. Included with them were two doctors, two nurses, a preacher, and a 16 year old. Because there were so many and they were used to doing labs, I moved from my normal position doing triage (which is basically just taking temps and blood pressures on everyone who comes in and then sitting, smiling and making the patients laugh with my lack of Khmer and my attempts to learn it while they wait to see the doctor) to the lab. I counted 21,000 amoxicillin as I waited for them to send me people. We have a really small lab here (I'll put a couple pictures up when I get back to the US), and limited things, which is fine since I can run precious little anyway--and all I can run is thanks to my work at Ferry Road (Deb, if you're reading, thank you!). I ran urine dipsticks, glucose tests, and hematocrits. Because I could never get enough blood for a crit on people from a fingerstick (and if I could, I'd be afraid it would clot), I learned how to take venous blood on humans, and by the end, I even did pretty well with kids (they have veins that are so hard to see!). It made me happy anyway.

With the team here, we saw 1000 patients a week. In the first village, every morning we were able to give numbers out to almost everyone in line every morning, which was so exciting for me. In the last village, there were still 100 people left, even though we gave 200 numbers, and others not in line grabbing my arm and begging for a number. I had to keep my eyes on the doctor and not look at how many were left, or else I don't know if I'd have been able to walk away. It really did break my heart. But we were able to help so many. It was amazing and exciting. There were of course sad cases, such as a woman with squamous cell carcinoma that had taken up half her face, but who was 83 and turned down the referral to have it removed. Even in the US, even if she did go, the odds of the cancer taking over her face before something else took her were minimal. Still.... It really though felt like such a privilege and blessing to be a part of something so big and something that maybe did make a difference. Though then again, I am reminded of what Maria keeps telling me, and what Bill, the preacher again told me, and what I talked about in my speech--just drop the pebble, plant the seed. There are always ripples. Do what you can, and God will take care of the rest.

Anyway, we're in a new village now. Yesterday, I went with Bill and Marie-Claire to see a giant Buddha that was a speedboat ride and 2km walk from here, which was fun. We're right in front of Sokun's house--he's the night guard and the one with whom I talk almost every night and therefore teach English to. It's neat, and I can see how happy it makes him to be here. The kids here are like kids everywhere--they love to laugh and have fun. They especially love when the crew and the barang (foreigners) play with them :)

Stay well and God bless, and please do let me know how you all are doing! Thanks for listening! :)