Dream job: Medecins sans frontieres
and they say the 1st step to any destination is often the longest, steepest, hardest stride.
so, together with the baking goddess and the ex-boy-next-door, I took the 1st step.
and the next thing I knew, I was in jeans and a stripey tee, setting foot down in the middle of rural rural rural (gotta emphasize how rural the place is!) Cambodia in sweltering dusty heat.
and the next next thing I knew, I was sharing a room, complete with mozzy nets, with the baking goddess and sharing a house with 2 dogs, 3 cats, numerous hens, 1 rooster that crows at weird intervals, countless bugs, the Khmer host family and a few volunteers.
and then, I was taking rounds with Cambodian doctors in a rural regional setting with a translator in tow and playing with Buddha babies in the Paeds ward. and then, I was mixing cement and scrapping paint off rusty beds and mending them and painting them a pretty cobalt blue and chopping trees down. and then, I was spending the afternoons watching the very-charming surgeon suture neat little stitches with as little string as the hospital can spare, eating Khmer ice cream, chatting/sign-languaging with the cute student nurses, devouring desserts at the local dessert stall and trying to get the roving little kids to tell us their names.
and all throughout that, I learnt to really read again, no thanks to crazy workload and hours in medical school and thanks to long long long afternoon siesta lunch hours established by the French in Cambodia and the very comfy hammock and my eBook reader. I also learnt quite a number of Khmer words to get by and to tell the very-friendly Khmers who insisted that I must be Khmer, thanks to my tanned complexion and my supposedly-Khmer ears and other features, that I'm from Malaysia (kunyom mopi Malaysi!!!).
TBC
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Dear Sandra,
In another 2 weeks' time, it'll be 6 months. Half a year. And I always thought I've pretty much kept a lid on the grief and loss issue and I thought I was well past the aching stage. But, when I finally saw you, I'm sure you saw me bawl my eyes out like a baby, like everything happened just yesterday. You would think that after 5 months plus of slowly adjusting to the idea of loss, completing a 10000-word theses and surviving a month in rural Cambodia, I would be able to look at things in perspective and hold myself together and basically not bawl like a baby. But, the moment when I actually stood in front of you and saw your beautiful beautiful beautiful face in all its black-and-white glory, I'm sure you felt me start to tremble.
And then, I saw your epitaph "Joie de vivre - till we meet again". And that was all it took, Sandra. It's been 5 months plus but it really didn't matter, did it? Coz at that instant and also right now, the wound feels as fresh as yesterday. These past months, I often see you in my mind and it gets a little easier to breathe whenever something or someone reminds me of you and my breath doesn't catch in my throat. You know I've cried my share already in Melbourne. And I wanted to come say goodbye to you properly for your sake and mine. And I'm glad I did, even though it hurts every bit as raw as before. Because there are things that just had to be said in person.
And our fathers had the time of their lives that day. They totally regressed back to their childhood days and did crazy stuff like eating 30 durians for dinner and waiting for coconut shakes. And Michelle was there the whole day, with your two adorable sisters. And did you see how tall Clara got nowdays?! She's like some kinda beansprout! She's way taller than me. and the way she eats her rice and dishes separately is totally adorable! And Laura is getting so spunky and cool now with the whole volleyball love affair. You know I'm a klutz when it comes to any ball stuff, so Laura with her spiker role is very admirable to uncoordinated people like me. And Michelle is the same crazy, cheerful, bubbly girl as before. You girls used to tell the craziest stories and go off on wild tangents and I was just happy to tag along and listen and occasionally pull you girls back down to earth. It was just 4 of us girls for the day, and it was good. But at lunch, I unconsciously did a quick lookaround the table, wondering a little belatedly about the absence.
I miss you, Sandra Wong. My nose prickles a little when I see your name. Your blog is still on my blog roll. Your name is still on my MSN contact list. Your mobile number is still in my phone. I still can't say the D word yet. I still think it's unfair that you're gone too soon. You left so indelible a presence that the world feels a little bit emptier without you occupying it physically. But I know you're still around, you're still around your dad and mum and sisters. And I hope sometimes, you'll come see me too.
xoxo
In another 2 weeks' time, it'll be 6 months. Half a year. And I always thought I've pretty much kept a lid on the grief and loss issue and I thought I was well past the aching stage. But, when I finally saw you, I'm sure you saw me bawl my eyes out like a baby, like everything happened just yesterday. You would think that after 5 months plus of slowly adjusting to the idea of loss, completing a 10000-word theses and surviving a month in rural Cambodia, I would be able to look at things in perspective and hold myself together and basically not bawl like a baby. But, the moment when I actually stood in front of you and saw your beautiful beautiful beautiful face in all its black-and-white glory, I'm sure you felt me start to tremble.
And then, I saw your epitaph "Joie de vivre - till we meet again". And that was all it took, Sandra. It's been 5 months plus but it really didn't matter, did it? Coz at that instant and also right now, the wound feels as fresh as yesterday. These past months, I often see you in my mind and it gets a little easier to breathe whenever something or someone reminds me of you and my breath doesn't catch in my throat. You know I've cried my share already in Melbourne. And I wanted to come say goodbye to you properly for your sake and mine. And I'm glad I did, even though it hurts every bit as raw as before. Because there are things that just had to be said in person.
And our fathers had the time of their lives that day. They totally regressed back to their childhood days and did crazy stuff like eating 30 durians for dinner and waiting for coconut shakes. And Michelle was there the whole day, with your two adorable sisters. And did you see how tall Clara got nowdays?! She's like some kinda beansprout! She's way taller than me. and the way she eats her rice and dishes separately is totally adorable! And Laura is getting so spunky and cool now with the whole volleyball love affair. You know I'm a klutz when it comes to any ball stuff, so Laura with her spiker role is very admirable to uncoordinated people like me. And Michelle is the same crazy, cheerful, bubbly girl as before. You girls used to tell the craziest stories and go off on wild tangents and I was just happy to tag along and listen and occasionally pull you girls back down to earth. It was just 4 of us girls for the day, and it was good. But at lunch, I unconsciously did a quick lookaround the table, wondering a little belatedly about the absence.
I miss you, Sandra Wong. My nose prickles a little when I see your name. Your blog is still on my blog roll. Your name is still on my MSN contact list. Your mobile number is still in my phone. I still can't say the D word yet. I still think it's unfair that you're gone too soon. You left so indelible a presence that the world feels a little bit emptier without you occupying it physically. But I know you're still around, you're still around your dad and mum and sisters. And I hope sometimes, you'll come see me too.
xoxo
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