It is often easy to turn off your emotional senses and get down to business. You can be blinded by all the positive QI assessments and all of the productivity in each clinic and hospital out there, but sometimes you suddenly turn off your tunnel vision and realize what you have seen and how it has made you feel. It feels like a hundred bricks are dropped on your chest all at once and you do not know if you will every be able to pull your heart back up from the pit of your stomach. This is what happened in Siem Reap.
The trip started out WONDERFUL. Siem Reap is amazing in comparison to its Cambodian counterparts. There are beautiful temples, great places to eat, and relaxing coffee shops. Most of all, Mexican food. We went there the very first night we were in town and it almost felt like the United States. The nachos, enchiladas, and margaritas probably helped a little too. We woke up early the next morning to attend a TBA (traditional birth attendant) training. At the first section in the morning, all of the clinical supervisors were being trained on how to take correct inventory, follow up with patients, etc. The nicest part of this meeting was that we finally got a translator. What can I say...it's either mini bananas or a translator that we demand in order to sit through these Khmer meetings...(even though I think we sometimes prefer the bananas).
Enchiladas for dinner
In the afternoon, Rebecca, Ruchi, and I went to visit a health care clinic in Angkor Thom to witness the supervisors teaching the actual TBA's the new information they had just received. After going down a long stretch of road through the forest, we suddenly saw a old wall across a pond.
Ruchi asked the driver, "What is that wall over there?"
The driver replied, "That is the wall to the Angkor Wat Temple."
We immediately realized that we were getting ready to witness; a part of Cambodian history, a gigantic temple made in the 12th century, in which we had only seen in picture thus far. I mean, this was half of the reason we wanted to go to Siem Reap in the first place. Coming around the corner, we saw her for the first time. She was a beautiful masterpiece of ancient times. Breathtaking. As we went deeper into the forest, simotaneously forgetting that we were even working , we passed monkeys, went through small brick arch ways that were just as old as the temples that surrounded them, and passed a plethora of beaten historic temples along the way. We were as enchanted as our surroundings were. Once we arrived at the clinic, some of us sick, most of us exhausted, we were all some how in great moods. We watched the training, asked a ton of questions, took a tour of the clinic, and headed back to civilization just in time for dinner and to talk about the amazing sights we had just witnessed. Most of all, just ready for the weekend.
The gates to the temples
Being silly in the car
TBA training
The shops where women get family planning in the villages
Saturday was a lazy monsoon day, in which we took it easy and walked around to see the sights. We had to get our tickets to see the sunrise at Angkor Wat the next morning, so our hotel owner suggested we go get them that night so we would also get to see the sunset as well. Although we didn't get to see any sunset in the grey sky that just turned dark, we still had our walk around the decorative, historic, and grand temple of Angkor Wat.
Us at Angkor Wat for the first time
This is the part in the story where my blinders came off. It was not because of the magnificentness of Angkor Wat, but because of the intense work done by Dr. Beat Richner, also known as Beatacello. Beatacello puts on a performance in Siem Reap every Saturday night in order to raise money for Kantha Bopa, his children hospitals that are located in Phnom Penh and Siem Reap. We not only went to see him after our first trip to Angkor Wat, but had also looked forward to this event since we arrived in Cambodia. He plays the cello so beautifully and passionately that when you listen, you can hear his cry for help for these children. His sound represents the sad consequences of reality that many of the children face in Cambodia. He receives 90% of his funding from private donors as no NGO or international organization recognizes his hospital as necessary in Cambodia, although to the people of Cambodian he is known as the "God of Cambodia". He offers free services to equal the economic reality of this country. Needless to say, after a short video of his work, many of us found ourselves in the front row with our hearts in our stomachs and tears down our face. It was a sad reality, but a reality that was needed to be understood in order to grasp the conditions in which the people of Cambodia live.
Beatacello in concert
Before I can continue with talking about all the great tourist things we did in Siem Reap, I have to explain, that after the blinders came off, everything was a little harder to handle. The worse was on Tuesday when we visited Angkor Children hospital in the morning to see how a private hospital was run. It was a beautiful facility in pristine condition even on American standards, but walking through the ward with children looking so pathetic was heart breaking and difficult. The hardest part was a little baby who probably weighed around 5 pounds hooked up to machines, eyes closed, with a tiny little hand in the air elevated on the pillow next to him/her which overpowered him/her in size. I will never forget that sight. Heart wrenching, heartbreaking, and yet somehow people can be so heartless about this situation. This trip was followed by a visit to the provincial hospital in which we could only sit down and ask questions to the director due to massive flooding. As we talked and asked questions, the harsh reality of what he was saying began to set in. We were told many of the main diseases in Cambodia are ignored. Many treatments are too costly and the government does not supply enough money. The breaking point was when the director of the public provincial hospital told me that hepatitis was a large problem here, after being told time after time it was not. He said that people come here too late with cirrhosis of the liver and they die. It was the word die that got me. I had to hold back my tears. The whole way home afterwards I was literally sucking it up in the passenger seat. It was something so personal to me, something that hits so close to home, and people here die due to it. It is even hard to not cry right now as I am writing this. Thinking about those people who come in with this preventable diagnosis die, those people that die of something I was told was not a priority in Cambodia... When we got back to the hotel, I went in the bathroom, let lose and balled. I cried for the reality of the situation, for those who had died or will die of disease that could typically be prevented, and most of all because I felt so helpless in this world. One large world, and one small little Sarah.
Countryside houses
A child in the country side
Just to see the little girls and boys on the bikes that are too big for them, the babies with obvious malnutrition, or even the smile on the faces from the children when they just receive a small sticker as they don't have much more...it all takes a toll on your soul. I can't say it won't change me, maybe even stop me from complaining as much (I know, wishful thinking right?), but I can say that if it does change me, it will change me for the better. However depressing it can be, it is motivating at the same time to make a difference. I am sorry if this was hard to read, but trust me, it was equally hard to write. But, ya know, in the end, I can just try to make a difference, and I truly believe that somewhere along the way, I will. I will.
The trip started out WONDERFUL. Siem Reap is amazing in comparison to its Cambodian counterparts. There are beautiful temples, great places to eat, and relaxing coffee shops. Most of all, Mexican food. We went there the very first night we were in town and it almost felt like the United States. The nachos, enchiladas, and margaritas probably helped a little too. We woke up early the next morning to attend a TBA (traditional birth attendant) training. At the first section in the morning, all of the clinical supervisors were being trained on how to take correct inventory, follow up with patients, etc. The nicest part of this meeting was that we finally got a translator. What can I say...it's either mini bananas or a translator that we demand in order to sit through these Khmer meetings...(even though I think we sometimes prefer the bananas).
Enchiladas for dinner
In the afternoon, Rebecca, Ruchi, and I went to visit a health care clinic in Angkor Thom to witness the supervisors teaching the actual TBA's the new information they had just received. After going down a long stretch of road through the forest, we suddenly saw a old wall across a pond.
Ruchi asked the driver, "What is that wall over there?"
The driver replied, "That is the wall to the Angkor Wat Temple."
We immediately realized that we were getting ready to witness; a part of Cambodian history, a gigantic temple made in the 12th century, in which we had only seen in picture thus far. I mean, this was half of the reason we wanted to go to Siem Reap in the first place. Coming around the corner, we saw her for the first time. She was a beautiful masterpiece of ancient times. Breathtaking. As we went deeper into the forest, simotaneously forgetting that we were even working , we passed monkeys, went through small brick arch ways that were just as old as the temples that surrounded them, and passed a plethora of beaten historic temples along the way. We were as enchanted as our surroundings were. Once we arrived at the clinic, some of us sick, most of us exhausted, we were all some how in great moods. We watched the training, asked a ton of questions, took a tour of the clinic, and headed back to civilization just in time for dinner and to talk about the amazing sights we had just witnessed. Most of all, just ready for the weekend.
The gates to the temples
Being silly in the car
TBA training
The shops where women get family planning in the villages
Saturday was a lazy monsoon day, in which we took it easy and walked around to see the sights. We had to get our tickets to see the sunrise at Angkor Wat the next morning, so our hotel owner suggested we go get them that night so we would also get to see the sunset as well. Although we didn't get to see any sunset in the grey sky that just turned dark, we still had our walk around the decorative, historic, and grand temple of Angkor Wat.
Us at Angkor Wat for the first time
This is the part in the story where my blinders came off. It was not because of the magnificentness of Angkor Wat, but because of the intense work done by Dr. Beat Richner, also known as Beatacello. Beatacello puts on a performance in Siem Reap every Saturday night in order to raise money for Kantha Bopa, his children hospitals that are located in Phnom Penh and Siem Reap. We not only went to see him after our first trip to Angkor Wat, but had also looked forward to this event since we arrived in Cambodia. He plays the cello so beautifully and passionately that when you listen, you can hear his cry for help for these children. His sound represents the sad consequences of reality that many of the children face in Cambodia. He receives 90% of his funding from private donors as no NGO or international organization recognizes his hospital as necessary in Cambodia, although to the people of Cambodian he is known as the "God of Cambodia". He offers free services to equal the economic reality of this country. Needless to say, after a short video of his work, many of us found ourselves in the front row with our hearts in our stomachs and tears down our face. It was a sad reality, but a reality that was needed to be understood in order to grasp the conditions in which the people of Cambodia live.
Beatacello in concert
Before I can continue with talking about all the great tourist things we did in Siem Reap, I have to explain, that after the blinders came off, everything was a little harder to handle. The worse was on Tuesday when we visited Angkor Children hospital in the morning to see how a private hospital was run. It was a beautiful facility in pristine condition even on American standards, but walking through the ward with children looking so pathetic was heart breaking and difficult. The hardest part was a little baby who probably weighed around 5 pounds hooked up to machines, eyes closed, with a tiny little hand in the air elevated on the pillow next to him/her which overpowered him/her in size. I will never forget that sight. Heart wrenching, heartbreaking, and yet somehow people can be so heartless about this situation. This trip was followed by a visit to the provincial hospital in which we could only sit down and ask questions to the director due to massive flooding. As we talked and asked questions, the harsh reality of what he was saying began to set in. We were told many of the main diseases in Cambodia are ignored. Many treatments are too costly and the government does not supply enough money. The breaking point was when the director of the public provincial hospital told me that hepatitis was a large problem here, after being told time after time it was not. He said that people come here too late with cirrhosis of the liver and they die. It was the word die that got me. I had to hold back my tears. The whole way home afterwards I was literally sucking it up in the passenger seat. It was something so personal to me, something that hits so close to home, and people here die due to it. It is even hard to not cry right now as I am writing this. Thinking about those people who come in with this preventable diagnosis die, those people that die of something I was told was not a priority in Cambodia... When we got back to the hotel, I went in the bathroom, let lose and balled. I cried for the reality of the situation, for those who had died or will die of disease that could typically be prevented, and most of all because I felt so helpless in this world. One large world, and one small little Sarah.
Countryside houses
A child in the country side
Just to see the little girls and boys on the bikes that are too big for them, the babies with obvious malnutrition, or even the smile on the faces from the children when they just receive a small sticker as they don't have much more...it all takes a toll on your soul. I can't say it won't change me, maybe even stop me from complaining as much (I know, wishful thinking right?), but I can say that if it does change me, it will change me for the better. However depressing it can be, it is motivating at the same time to make a difference. I am sorry if this was hard to read, but trust me, it was equally hard to write. But, ya know, in the end, I can just try to make a difference, and I truly believe that somewhere along the way, I will. I will.
No comments:
Post a Comment