Today started as most clinic days do. A quick breakfast at Sovannaphum in Kampong Chhnang before departing for our usual sojourn across the Tonle Sap River by boat, to the remote province of Butbitsbinn Kampong Leang (a place we have never visited before). After a sweaty hefting of supplies out of vans onto the boat, all knowing this was our seventh and second-last clinic this trip, we all welcomed Socheat whipping out her portable karaoke equipment. We were thoroughly entertained by Bryony’s dramatic rendition of Celine Dion’s, “My Heart Will Go On” (somehow becoming the theme song of this trip), followed by Laura’s attempt at rapping out Post Malone’s “Sunflower”, inspired by the impossible field of sunflowers we encountered lining the riverbank. It was as if we all were subconsciously predicting the sombre day ahead.
Across the river we were met by ‘stretch’ tuk tuks and soon arrived at our destination; a little church nestled in the beautiful countryside of Butbitsbinn Kampong Leang. Being a Sunday, the clinic began with a communal mass, hosted by the local pastor, followed by hymns sung for us by children from the village. Initially the turnout was small but as word spread throughout the province, we were inundated with people in desperate need. It soon dawned on all of us that this was by far the poorest area we have visited on the trip so far.
Malnutrition, dehydration, gastro-intestinal conditions, and scabies were rife, accompanied by heavy hearts and harrowing stories of their daily lives. As always, these were hardest to hear from the tiny ones and the elderly, who were the ones that were suffering the most. Many of the beautiful children we treated do not go to school but stay home or work to care for their elders. We also treated many children from a small orphanage in the area who only have friends a few years older or younger than themselves for a family.
One of the saddest and most shocking things we saw at our station was a 15-year-old girl who had broken her upper spine a year ago and was not properly treated. Her back now protrudes outwards in such a way that she cannot walk for longer than 10 minutes and will never be able to sleep comfortably or work. If she had had access to treatment at the Siem Reap Children’s Hospital, her life could be very different. Instead, pain is her life. Unfortunately, in these remote, socio-economically disadvantaged locations, access to this treatment requires travel and money. Both of which are luxuries here.
After this particular patient, Rachael asked Sibimol to write ‘Joy’ in Khmer or her arm. It became our theme for the day at our station. All three of us donned the marking, because aside from what little we could do for them medically, we felt we could also give them this from our hearts. Each station found their own way of doing the same, and it was definitely a day that even the strongest of our team needed to take a moment privately or in the company of someone supportive.
So, there we were, clustered close in the 38-degree heat, trying to keep on our masks of joy in the face of such horrific poverty. Rachael was operating her own station that day, so Laura became her AIN (assistant in nursing). Rachael worked her magic, devoting herself to her patients while Laura administered wormers, doled out double doses of vitamins and performed comical, yet thorough oral hygiene and scabies eradication demonstrations through borderline interpretive dance. The children were in stitches and broad smiles and deep chuckles came from mothers, fathers, and the elderly.
Inevitably the clinic ended, always the hardest part of the day as we have to say goodbye to beautiful people who we wish we could help more. But this time, we could. We were bequeathed with a very generous donation from some people close to all our hearts at the beginning of the trip; a provision of water filters. In this area, people have no access to water other than that from the river, the very same place they wash their clothes, dishes and bodies. This water is also heavily polluted from general waste.
It was clear from the extreme health conditions we observed due to these practices, that this province was the most in need of the incredible donation we carried with us. This decision was further confirmed when the pastor’s wife told Caz and Heidi in a quiet moment that she never imagined any foreigners would ever visit to help them as they felt they weren’t worth it. When the water filters were offered, the pastor, his wife, and district elders were overwhelmed with joy. It felt like our adopted theme for the day had become realised.
The Old Man and The Beach
An old man was walking down a beach littered with flotsam and jetsam in the wake of a storm. In the distance, he sees a small boy sitting on the sand, tossing sea creatures he finds washed up on the shore back into the safety of the sea. The old man looks to his left, where the beach stretches far into the distance, then to his right where it also stretches almost out of sight, seeing thousands of more in need of rescue. He asks the boy, “There are so many, why bother? Do you really think that makes a difference?”. The boy gently returns another little creature back into the cool calm of the water and replies, “It did to that one”.
With Joyful hearts, Rachael and Laura.
Thank you, wise old Mr. Witter, for your inspiration and holding us together in our own times of need.