I have just arrived in Son La and been fed enough food for about 4 people: 5 full dishes. I tried to eat half of it to be polite, but I am regretting that decision now. I’m a little mystified as to my stay here, the driver picked me up this morning and after speeding through the mountains for 5 and a half hours, we were in Son La.
I called Rose from the hotel. She’s the Vietnamese woman who seems to run POF (Prosthetics Outreach Foundation) on the ground over here. She quickly handed the phone to Dr. Dales, as neither of us could understand each other with our accents and background noise enough to blare us out anyhow. Mark said to stay put so I went to my room and about half an hour later I had a driver beckoning me to come with him to the Hospital. Yes.
Pulling up to the hospital, there were vendors outside, selling dry and wet goods and people swarming, most likely family taking a walk as they waited for their loved ones to emerge from clinic or OR. The fron the two buildings behind the wall and gated entrance wore sun-spots well, showing their age as well as some of the men and women they held safe, sterile, healing and jam-packed inside. We drove around the first building and to the left, where two newer-looking buildings, less freckled, revealed themselves and parked right outside the front entrance. I walked in, khakis, t-shirt and sneakers and up two flights of stairs, past thirty-some different family members of those past a set of double doors. Surgery. I arrived for the tail-end of patient consults, and entered what was the changing room, where the docs were lining up and re-evaluating tomorrow’s cases, some of the patients still present. The room was crowded, something that would be deemed intrusive to patient privacy at home, but for the most part, the patients and families didn’t seem to mind. I don’t speak Vietnamese or any of the tribal languages here, so I truly don’t know. Facial expressions conveyed worry, fear, thankfulness and for physically unaffected family members and patients alike, hopeful happiness. No matter how many people were in the room, everyone cared to improve the conditions which some patients had endured much too long.
Dinner was noodles. So we thought. It was actually hotpot with some noodles at the end, after everyone had gotten their fill from tofu, meat and greens boiled in some concentration of aqueous monosodium-glutamate. Yum. Rice “wine” was passed around. At the other end of the table. Boo. This is no sake. It is vodka. As with lunch, I ate too much, I think all the whities here feel that way. And its not hard with all the locals pushing food and liquor on you constantly. The minute you look to your right to share a smile or some words, your new friend to the left dumps some more noodles and beef into your bowl. Sigh and eat. Even if it does mean an extra 1000mg Tums.
Tomorrow you’ll feel better and it’ll be a whole new adventure with completely different people.
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