The Missing Suitcase and Other Stories: Week One

I'd forgotten how much I love Cambodia until my plane touched down, until I arrived at the boat 14 hours after that, until the first day of clinic when the Khmer patients flooded into the ship and I got to see their smiles again. Now, being back in Cambodia for just over a week, it feels almost as though I had never left. I have found my rhythms with the clinic, with my research, with the crew, with the country. I have three regular crew members to whom I teach English, and I inherit two more for the week next week. I had forgotten how much I love to teach English as well--forgotten the excitement of watching my students understand what a word or concept means, their smile when they get a pronunciation exactly right (believe me, there are words in English that are incredibly difficult for the Khmer to say, and Khmer sounds that it's hard for an English speaker to make), how proud I am of them when I know how much they want to practice. The entire crew is motivated to learn and practice English--it is fun for me, because I have the opportunity then to talk to all of them and learn their stories and learn about Cambodia--for instance, one was telling me how he started learning English under a porch because learning other languages was forbidden in his village until the 1990s.

I love the Khmer people because though I cannot understand them, they strike me as incredibly kind. The landowner of the area where we parked our ship last week, a man of about 75 with a single tooth whose smile just lit up his face, brought us fruit every day--sapodilla, bananas, jackfruit (which has an interesting sweet flavor), Khmer sweets made with banana and rice and wrapped in a banana leaf. It is the only place I have been where people tell me my large, French-Canadian nose is beautiful. I love how they try hard to talk to me and I try hard to understand, but how one woman will indicate a chair and tell me to sit without words, or how they will take my hand. I can put my palms together and thank them, I can tell them to go upstairs to get their blood pressure taken, I can tell them how old I am but do precious little else save for smile and simply be present. For as much as I wish I could do more, it might be enough.

I am doing my research too, learning much about the lack of care women have during their pregnancies. I look forward to doing more interviews. I was greeted this morning by the ship's pharmacist asking if I would like to meet the woman in charge of the health center for this village--of course, I said yes. Before breakfast, I took a moto ride with another crew member translator to the health center, learned about her work, and saw a delivery room from ages past, dusty, dark, warm. This is where women who come to the health center here to give birth will stay. If there are any complications--eclampsia, breach, bleeding--the woman must go to Phnom Penh, if they can make the multiple hour journey in their fragile state. Much work remains to be done in this world, for sure.

While I waited for my translator this morning, six little girls with dirt-streaked faces and shy smiles clustered around--close enough, but not too close. A 16-year-old who spoke some English asked me my name and if I had a boyfriend (many tell me I should find a Khmer man!). Last night while talking to a few of the crew, a little girl in the cluster of 7 who were standing in the weeds watching the barang, the foreigner, called out I love you and hid behind her friend, giggling. I love this country.

And if you were wondering about the title of the post, I did have a missing suitcase--it was gate-checked in Newark and didn't make it to Phnom Penh until Tuesday, to the ship on Wednesday, just as I had finished my last pair of scrubs in my other bag. Perfect timing :) Every day is an adventure and may it continue to be so. Blessings to you all.

Pre-Departure

Tomorrow morning, way to early for the fact that it's already after 11, I get on a plane and fly halfway around the world, touching down in four countries in 36 hours. It feels surreal still--surreal that first year is over, surreal that I've already been home and then to NY, surreal that I am going to Cambodia tomorrow morning. I am fairly certain it won't feel real until I get on the ship.

I am looking forward to the trip with much more excitement and less fear than last time. I am not entering a completely strange world this time (only slightly strange), I know more of the language entering than I did last time (which honestly doesn't take much), and I've met the people who will meet me at the airport. I am also a completely different person than the one who sat in this position in 2009. Once again, I know I am supposed to be there. I am looking forward to being more unplugged, more in the moment, more centered. I am looking forward to the beautiful people, the children, the experience. It will change me and that is amazing.

Thanks to all who have supported me in getting ready and in my first year. Really, I know I am blessed. Love to you all, and God bless you!

First Year Complete!

Well, we did it! The first year is over--somehow, we managed to get through every system of the body, learning the intricacies of the heart, the lungs, the brain, the muscles, and what happens if things misfire. It was an amazing and difficult journey--without a doubt, the most challenging year of school I have ever had, but I leave it knowing still, without question--medicine is my calling. I love this.

Five things I learned in my first year:
5) Cadavers really aren't creepy. They are all over medical school memoir as the first teacher, first patient we will encounter, and though it is probably cliche at this point, it is true. We learned the body by using our hands to move through this one--we learned her muscles and nerves, held her heart in our hands (that really was an amazing moment), examined her liver. She was ever-patient with our lack of finesse, tolerated each misstep with ease. By the time we finished, I knew where each of her major arteries hid, what tendon I could tug to make her fingers curl, and how arthritic her knee was. It was amazing. And you do get used to the smell.
4) What the brain lacks in first impressions, it makes up for in function. The brain is less than two pounds; looks really just like a series of gray curves and valleys, has sort of a gelatinous texture when you touch it. Hard to believe then, that this object is the seat of consciousness, emotion, higher thought, and coordinates basically every function. But delving into the minutiae of the brain...wow. Tiny regions the size of my fingertip coordinate language interpretation, and vision is way more than I expected (and the cerebellum is larger too...and is quite beautiful, if you bisect it!). Somehow, our brain controls everything--every breath, every thought, every beat of our heart.
3) Camaraderie develops just prior to exams. It's amazing. We all make our friends, have the people we hang out with, but before an exam, it doesn't matter who you are; it only matters that you're in the same class, have been in the library 8 hours to0, can't figure out what we need to know from the embryology lecture, can't quite keep these nerves straight... There are looks of collective understanding, wishes of good luck in the stairwell, a constant willingness to answer questions. I think we all are grateful.
2) There is nothing like patient contact. Whether it is ambulatory care or one of the doctoring classes, anything that gets me in my white coat and interacting with people is a reminder of why these four years are totally worth it. Everyone has a story. I've had patients make me laugh, put me at ease, and move me powerfully. Perhaps my favorite moment was when a man who had been through hell simply looked at my interview partner and I and said when I come to the hospital, I put myself in God's hands and He puts me in yours as my doctors, and another who had come in to speak about her kidney transplant told us you doctors are the answer to so many prayers.
1) We truly are fearfully and wonderfully made. If first year has taught me anything, it has given me a genuine and deep awe for the body. Just the fact that I am able to type this right now, watch a movie, sleep, and then wake in the morning is nothing short of miraculous.

Sorry for the hiatus, all :) I promise to be back, at least through my summer in Cambodia, and if you're lucky, during second year as well. Blessings to all, and thanks for reading :)