March 29, 2009
It's funny – and wonderful – how one sometimes gets the messages one needs most at the right time, but from the most unlikely sources. This is a story about angels.I have recently been through yet another difficult time with my family of origin. It's a large family, dominated by my eldest brother, who consistently ridicules and bullies other members of the family – particularly the females.
This behaviour has been going on for so long unchallenged that it has become accepted as 'normal.' As I'm the only one who doesn't accept it, I'm frequently identified as the disruptive and unwelcome element.
On this occasion, my brother has decided to ostracize me from a family discussion. (I had the audacity to ask some questions about his points of view.) The rest of the family has decided, as usual, not to say or do anything about this discriminatory behaviour. They don't want to 'get involved.'
But as I am smarting from this latest family sting, two angels bearing messages of love and appreciation came my way. Just when I needed them, there they were.
The first is an old friend 'back home' who I haven't heard from in months, but who has been reading my posts from Asia. She wrote:
“I've just read all of your letters (some for the second time) in one go tonight. Jules, you are a marvellous writer All of your pieces have been so interesting and elucidating. I have laughed and sighed, and definitely been envy-green of your Phu Quoc beach days (daze). But the little girl, Alberta, touched me the most. ...I just saw the movie, "Slum Dog Millionaire" last night, and your "Alberta" could have been in some of those scenes. I hope she writes her way out of poverty. How does it feel for you to have to walk away from her, and others like her, how do you get past what I imagine would be a deep sense of powerlessness and frustration, to say nothing of sorrow....aaah, that old wheel of life, it just keeps turnin' around.”
I am elated. How wonderful to hear that someone thinks I'm 'a marvellous writer,' and that my scribblings have moved them to laughter and sighs. And how wonderful that she understands and appreciates the sentiments that underly my writings.
My second angel was someone I'd never met. We were checking out a different hotel, looking for one with hot water which ours claimed to have when we took the room, but admitted they didn't have when we pointed out that the water heater in our bathroom didn't seem to be working... .She came bounding up the stairs – young, fresh, attractive – and full of energy. We struck up a conversation right away. As she was clearly Asian, but spoke impeccable English, I wondered where she was from. Singapore? Hong Kong?
“China,” she said. “I'm from Shenzhen, a city in Guangdong province, in the southeast of China.” She's here in Kratie, like us and most of the other tourists, to see the rare Irriwaddy dolphin. (There are apparently only about 100 left, so their days are numbered.) We agreed we'd all go together a little later that afternoon.
The trip to see the dolphins involved a half-hour ride in a tuk-tuk, and then an hour in a little wooden boat drifting about in the middle of the Mekong River watching for dolpins. We saw lots of them – likely the same ones numerous times. There's a resident 'school' of around 16 of them in this area.The outing gave us a chance to get to know Hebe (pronounced Heebee) a little better. The first thing she said, when she got into the tuk-tuk with us, was: “When I saw you I thought you must be a movie star. You are so beautiful and you have that, what is the word, that air of elegance about you that movie stars have.”
Now, for a 58 year old woman with white hair who wears no make up and definitely does not consider themselves even remotely beautiful, let alone like a 'movie star,' these were more than just 'encouraging words. This was downright dazzling!
“Elephant,” I said. “You think I'm elephant!” Her English is good enough that she got the play on words right away, and laughed. She gave me a hug. “Yes really, I think you're very elephant!”
She is not only really (and truly) beautiful herself, but clearly has a winning way with people. Unfortunately she had managed to hit her head that morning, opening up a gash on her forehead which she'd covered with a large bandage. I asked her about it. She said she'd walked right into a metal pipe that was sticking out into a sidewalk area from a construction site.
“Was it dirty and rusty?” I asked. “Yes,” she said, “it was.” “Do you know about tetanus?” “Yes, but I don't have to worry, I'm from China.”I told her why, even if the cut was small, she did need to worry – especially here, in a country like Cambodia, where medical facilities and resources are, to say the least, very limited. I told her I'd take a look at the cut for her after dinner.
Meanwhile, as luck would have it, I saw another young woman at the restaurant we were having dinner at. She looked like she might be working here in Cambodia, and I decided to ask her if she knew anything about health care facilities here in Kratie, and specifically about the availability of tetanus vaccine.
As luck would also have it, she was a health care worker, and she knew a lot about the facilities and resources here. Furthermore, she volunteered to ride her bicycle up the road to see if the doctor's clinic was still open, as that's who had the tetanus vaccine. She came back to say that the clinic was open, but the doctor was not there. However the midwife who worked with him was, and she had agreed to administer the tetanus vaccine.
When Hebe came to meet us at the restaurant she had barely sat down and ordered her drink before I'd convinced her that she should go and get the tetanus shot. The health care worker got a waiter at the restaurant, who was a friend of hers as well, to take Hebe to the doctor on his motorcycle. Meanwhile I went across the road to a clinic and asked the doctor's assistant there if he would look at the cut and put some antiseptic on it. He said he would.
Hebe came back about ten minutes later, and I didn't even let her sit down before I shepherded her across the road to the clinic. There the doctor's assistant, likely feeling somewhat intimidated by a white woman who he thought was a health worker (me), suggested that I look at the wound and apply the antiseptic. He would watch.
As it turned out the gash, though long, was fairly superficial. I dabbed it with povidone, which stings, and the doctor's assistant and I agreed it would be better left to the open air. We thanked him profusely, all bowing to one another in the charming Asian way, and then Hebe and I went back to join our men at the restaurant.
At the restaurant we talked about China, and Hebe and her man invited us to visit them there so they could cook us up some 'real' Chinese food with fresh fresh vegetables and seafood.
When we parted company for the evening, I told Hebe I was sorry if she felt that I had pushed her to do something she wasn't sure she wanted to do, but I cared about her and knew she had only a limited time to get the tetanus short. “And now,” my husband added, “you can step on all the rusty nails you want to and you won't have to worry!”
Hebe put her arms around me and said: “No, I don't feel bad at all! I am so glad that you helped me. Thank you for looking after me. You are a good friend. I love you.”
The next morning we met with Hebe for breakfast. I told her I had written this story, and that she was one of my angels. She gave me a big smile and said “You are my angel too.”
And when she wrote her address for me in my book, she added the note: “You're the sunshine in the day that brings a lot of happiness. You make my days in Kratie enjoyable. Please come to visit!”
Hey, what more positive messages could I have received at a time when I was feeling unloved and unappreciated? Here's to the angels in our midst – may we all have many, especially when we need them!
As luck would also have it, she was a health care worker, and she knew a lot about the facilities and resources here. Furthermore, she volunteered to ride her bicycle up the road to see if the doctor's clinic was still open, as that's who had the tetanus vaccine. She came back to say that the clinic was open, but the doctor was not there. However the midwife who worked with him was, and she had agreed to administer the tetanus vaccine.
When Hebe came to meet us at the restaurant she had barely sat down and ordered her drink before I'd convinced her that she should go and get the tetanus shot. The health care worker got a waiter at the restaurant, who was a friend of hers as well, to take Hebe to the doctor on his motorcycle. Meanwhile I went across the road to a clinic and asked the doctor's assistant there if he would look at the cut and put some antiseptic on it. He said he would.
Hebe came back about ten minutes later, and I didn't even let her sit down before I shepherded her across the road to the clinic. There the doctor's assistant, likely feeling somewhat intimidated by a white woman who he thought was a health worker (me), suggested that I look at the wound and apply the antiseptic. He would watch.
As it turned out the gash, though long, was fairly superficial. I dabbed it with povidone, which stings, and the doctor's assistant and I agreed it would be better left to the open air. We thanked him profusely, all bowing to one another in the charming Asian way, and then Hebe and I went back to join our men at the restaurant.
At the restaurant we talked about China, and Hebe and her man invited us to visit them there so they could cook us up some 'real' Chinese food with fresh fresh vegetables and seafood.
When we parted company for the evening, I told Hebe I was sorry if she felt that I had pushed her to do something she wasn't sure she wanted to do, but I cared about her and knew she had only a limited time to get the tetanus short. “And now,” my husband added, “you can step on all the rusty nails you want to and you won't have to worry!”
Hebe put her arms around me and said: “No, I don't feel bad at all! I am so glad that you helped me. Thank you for looking after me. You are a good friend. I love you.”
The next morning we met with Hebe for breakfast. I told her I had written this story, and that she was one of my angels. She gave me a big smile and said “You are my angel too.”
And when she wrote her address for me in my book, she added the note: “You're the sunshine in the day that brings a lot of happiness. You make my days in Kratie enjoyable. Please come to visit!”
Hey, what more positive messages could I have received at a time when I was feeling unloved and unappreciated? Here's to the angels in our midst – may we all have many, especially when we need them!
Post script: My third angel appeared the day after I posted 'Angels in our Midst.' This angel is someone I don't know, and will likely never meet – an online reader who, after reading some of my scribbles, took the time to send me a message. Here's what it said:
"Hi,
I just wanted to say how impressed I am of the journey that you and your husband are on. The fact that you left everyday life as you used to know it, to seek adventure is so fascinating. You're proving that nothing matters; your age, jobs or living situation; you're always able to explore the world. It's nice to know that one don't have to see everything there is to see before settling down..
I hope you have a fantastic time during your trips!"
No comments:
Post a Comment