living for the weekend

I am going to resist the temptation to blog about the 'training' Kristy & I attempted to do this week or my 3 month review meeting with the hospital or any other clinical stories with invariable unhappy endings and instead concentrate on the weekends. A routine of sorts is developing for my weekends in the 'bang and it makes it almost feel like home - after 4 months that's not bad going.

Last weekend Katie & I were up bright & early on Saturday morning to get to the market in search of Tofu - an necessary early purchase food item. Then it was back to mine for a banana milkshake made from possibly the biggest bunch of bananas I have ever seen, homegrown by my landlady & presented to me at 6am the other morning. I have got into the habit of wondering my house in various states of undress and luckily for her on this occasion I was wearing a T-shirt when she popped up at my screen front door.

Katie had made the grave mistake of buying sweet bread in the market (I normally make a big show of saying "ot payem" repeatedly and 'prai, prai" until they get the message) so before we could move on to the second course of breakfast - egg roll - we had to venture out to purchase a more traditional bread product. This inevitably resulted in further purchases - Katie - radio & blender, me - cake. Tea and cake has now become a saturday institution.

Then there is the obligatory de-dusting/cobweb-ing/dead insect-ing and general sweat inducing cleaning of the house which is a constant battle and the fauna of my house are winning. This is then followed by the new introduction of khmer lesson on weekend afternoons. This however deserves a whole blog to itself - suffice to say anyone who was around for me learning to read and write english will know I don't really have the temperament for learning complexed and intensive study-requiring skills. But it gives my weekend structure and I am not complaining - really though all the 33 consonants and 25 vowels sound quite similar. The monks banging their drums at 4 am every morning for 3 months leading up to Pchum Ben is helping me to develop patience and tolerance or perhaps it is just the sleep deprivation is sapping my will to fight back.

C, Gary and my VA, is off to Malaysia tomorrow to teach English & Khmer for 6 months leaving us in search of our 3rd VA since I started. C's in-laws live 18km outside of the 'bang and last Sunday morning C invited us to have lunch with his family. 

We were reassured by C that it is quite normal in Cambodian Culture for all of his extended family not to come over to us and it would take several visits to get even a smile. It is a strange dynamic to be invited to someone's house and then to be completely ignored by them for your entire stay.

There was sitting (huge pass time in Cambodian), eating (also popular - especially snacking on buses) and drinking of beer. The women of the family - C's wife, sister-in-law and mother-in-law - remained  in the kitchen creating a feast of noodles and soup curry with salad, fish and rice, chicken curry, beautifully sculpted home grown pineapples. The father-in-law remained sat on his day bed in the lean-to next to the kitchen with a very serious face silently watching the proceedings. The children played at a safe distance away from the barangs and resisted all my attempts to engage them in conversation. Limited to "Ayu-ponman?" and "Chemuh-ay?" - how old are you? What your name?
C reliably informed me I should just speak english because my khmer is so bad - I shan't miss his unfailing support, encouragement or opinion!

C before starting with us 2 months ago had worked as an English teacher and Malaysia is a huge opportunity for him but it means leaving his wife and family for 6 months as the visa is just for him. His first baby is due in January so hopefully he will get back just in time for the delivery.
He had invited students from his old class to come to the 'party' as well. You would have got the impression that he taught at a female only university but he reassured us he teaches males as well but for some reason only the 19 year old girls came - odd! The students - like the children - were resistant to speaking in khmer or their C taught english but there were plenty of photo opportunities.

Then it started to rain so the walk around the family farm was cancelled and in a gap in the rain we headed back home, but we got caught on the outskirts by the second heavy rain. I got home in time for my lesson soaking wet, full of delicious home cooked food & home grown coconut milk and slightly intoxicated by a midday angkor beer. It did impact on my performance which if you believe C is already pretty terrible.

We had our final farewell meal for C on friday with his wife at a restaurant in town. The farewell between C and Gary was emotional - a big hug - bromance is strong here in Cambodia. I however had limited physical contact and had to be satisfied with mild arm touching. I did however hug his wife - same gender physical contact is allowed - and made her promise to contact me if she needed anything (medical or not) whilst C is away. I know the medical care available here and when I make friends with Cambodians I feel that a 24 hour health help line is the least I can do. The barang community are already averaging 3 calls a week.

The Cambodian code of physical contact between people of different genders has however not been read by some of the doctors at the hospital and this week there has been numerous arm slapping and grasping and a prolonged hand holding episode. When seeking advice about what this means from 'local experts' I am unhelpfully told it is not Cambodian. It feels to me like a thawing of attitudes but I know all to well that here in Cambodia nothing is as it seems.

However when I received an invite to a presentation by the head surgeon from the hospital this weekend at a hotel - drug company sponsored and all, I knew my prior arrangements would have to go on hold. I have been here 4 months and this is the first time I have been invited to anything. People working in smaller hospitals in villages will probably have been to 20 weddings by now, know all the hospital staff and surrounding community but here in Battambang it is a tough room and being accepted is probably an impossibility I am beginning to learn.

My attendance caused much hilarity with the hospital staff as I rocked up on time with Katie as my 'guest'. The drug reps - in khmer - asked me where I was from so in my (very poor) khmer I explained I was from england and I worked with VSO at the hospital. After several more questions in khmer they finally asked if I spoke English -" errr yes I am from england" - much relief and further communications in perfect english.

A discreet entrance into the room was impossible and Katie received lots of attention as a new face. Mr S (head nurse) warmly welcomed me then asked where was Gary - this is a common occurrence and reinforces my belief that if I was male they might actually listen to a word I say.

So we arrived at 6pm for a 6pm presentation and as I predicted from previous experience of hospital meetings the presentation kicked off at 6 50pm. The highlights for me were after Katie and I agreeing that no-one would sit next to us, S, top medical ICU nurse came right to the back corner where we we hiding and sat down next to me. He has no english, I have (as confirmed by my ex-VA) terrible khmer but we never let that stop us attempting communication. If all else fails I find that a smile gets you a long way. Dr O - who until this week wouldn't look at me let alone smile my way - walked into the room (late of course), sat down, turned around and smiled and waved at me.

The talk was on hip surgery and with the help of french power point presentation, medical context and understanding every 10th spoken word in khmer I was able to understand it. During the subsequent drug rep sales pitch Katie & I played hangman.

Post talk there was free food and drink provided so the room emptied quicker than if we had been in a burning building. Like leaving a wedding after the first dance I thought now was a good time to make our exit. I thanked the head surgeon for inviting me, we talked about trauma management as we walked down the stairs, Katie was given a firm un-Cambodian handshake and we left the hospital staff to their meal and went in search of a strong G&T and cheese wontons.

Although nothing is as it seems here, I can't help hoping that what I am seeing are the first signs of a thaw - that would be good, because it has been a long hard metaphorical winter. I will however not be holding my breath.