Wanderings

Cambodian villages are a delight to walk around in. The roads are dirt, even in this most recent village, where it is easily wide enough for two cars (cars are rare; I've only seen them close to Phnom Penh, and close to Vietnam). Pavement doesn't happen except in main roads and Phnom Penh. Many people ride by on motos with surgical masks for the dust. Motos are the most popular form of transportation. Apparently there is a law now limiting the number riding to two, though I've still seen three or four people in the villages themselves, particularly if a few of them are children (and I've ridden one with four of us total), though not the six that Bill (the NGO founder and ship manager) had once seen. The wealthier villages have more motor bikes, whereas the poorer ones have more bicycles. Often rusty, the bicycles astoundingly still manage to get people from point A to point B, often with stacks of fruit from the market, maybe rice, maybe Khmer cakes to sell. Children will ride bikes three sizes too large for them, maybe seven years old on a bike designed for an adult, and will carry younger siblings on the handlebars or standing just in front or just behind them. It always works, and what truly amazes me is the lack of fear.

The village we are in right now, maybe 20km and across the river from Phnom Penh, is one of the wealthier ones I've seen. Wealth is determined by things like the size of the house, whether a car is present, if the floors are tiled. Homes here seem pretty large, and they receive electricity for the most part, likely from Phnom Penh. Large here is not large by US standards--large here is maybe three or four rooms, elevated by steps and poles from the road. Still too, the larger houses are intermixed with those where bamboo makes up the walls and thatch (which must be changed every few months) makes up the roof. Like everywhere though, children come outside and play and delight in yelling hello to the foreigner as she passes. (In one village, a boy of about 3 with a mullet called to me and Marie-Claire, hello, barang! (barang meaning foreigner, particularly French).) One yesterday, playing soccer with his friends, shouted hello, and as Bunthoeun (the clinic assistant) and I passed, asked why you no play? I do so love the children!

Last week in the clinic, we had a nurse practitioner from the US as well as the Khmer doctor, so we saw close to 140 patients each day (plus the ship now has a Khmer dentist, and he saw about 30). It is always amazing to be able to hand out more numbers at the end of the day when we have time to see more, but also amazing to see how many more people come out when we take more patients. Last week Thursday, the line exceeded 200 and snaked down the road, and then curved towards the river. I caught my breath--so many people. No matter what, no matter where. People tell me sometimes they forgo the medical care they need because of their living standard--they simply don't have enough money. It breaks my heart that people must make a choice to receive care or eat. I am grateful to play even a small role in the work the ship does--though many are not seriously ill at the moment, because simply being present and giving medicine is healing in a sense.

And the medical student in me must express my gratitude to the nurse practitioner, Clay, who was here last week and to the Khmer doctor, Dr. Tha, for teaching me! I saw an incredible jugular venous pulse (something we've heard in three or four physical diagnosis lectures) and an inguinal hernia in a 9-year-old, listened to lungs with bronchitis, and learned what we give for epilepsy. Really, I love the experience. I love the people I work with every day, the ship's crew, who all love to learn and talk with me and teach me about themselves and their country and who can always make me smile. I love the patients who come on, particularly those who want to trade noses or marry me to their sons, the babies with their chubby cheeks, and those who smile, whether with one tooth or 32. God bless Cambodia, and God bless you all as well. Continue to be well!