Rourn

Rourn, whom Susie fought for in the hospital system, died yesterday. We received the news this afternoon.

In the words of John 3:16, we do not know whether she perished or whether she has eternal life. What we do know is that this is life on the edge - the narrow ledge between a short earthly life and eternity.

Sreymom

I've been a bit re-miss in not introducing our newest team member, Sreymom, to you. She has been with us for three months already. Fun or not, time surely flies.

Sreymom was recommended to us by Jesse, the pastor at New Life, back in August. She's a great girl who was not quite ready to jump into the unknown with us back then. Six months later, with Chantol leaving to pursue her heart for business, Sreymom was again invited to come join us. We are delighted that she has said 'yes'.

Here she is, our legendry Sreymom with Susie

Her first day was unforgettable - the day that Daa with the fist-sized holes of bed sores in his buttocks, came to us. Sreymom got to be introduced, sit in devotions and then help Sue clean Daa's buttocks. It took her two months to tell me 'you know, after the first day I want to quit'.

She's no quitting girl tho'. Sreymom is pretty focussed, intense and a real straight shooter. I have learned to happily shoot her straight back. I've pulled her leg so often now that she is learning to respond with a smile rather than a serious 'what do you mean' expression. She's a great little lady and an invaluable part of the Healing Home team.

Ahhh - another great reason to come to Cambodia

I am used to re-mortgaging the house for anything beyond the most basic of dentist appointments. It comes as a real bonus that working on the ivorys is delightfully affordable here - and the quality of work is top notch.

Win-win - Dr Heng gets to have the pleasure of this view and I hardly feel the pain in either mouth or wallet.

Colleen, who has taught me survival skills ranging from where to buy sandals that last thru' to which market food stalls do not run on you later, directed me to Dr Hengs's door. The outside sign reassuringly proclaims a post-grad degree from Dunedin. He is a mild-mannered, exacting technician whom I would now trust with my cat.

My root canal - US$50. My first crown - $150. I didn't get to sneeze in a dental surgery at that price at home. If you are looking to come out this way, I do recommend that you take your dental $ and use them to put into an airticket. There will be money over for the teeth, the sandals and the kebabs.

Everybody loves baby

Little Alisa came for a visit today, together with her blind mum, Navey. The poor little poppet had spent a couple of days in hospital with a fever. Her living conditions are not much better than a hobbit's hovel and it is a challenge to keep her in good health.

Alisa tanking up at our place this morning. She stayed happily until around 5pm. Navey phoned back at about 8pm to say that she is crying and crying - can they please return to the Healing Home. We will tackle this one tomorrow.

One thing that has been of concern is that, as she grows, she is keen to explore. Up to now, the raised double bed has been the only place that Navey has for Alisa to stay while she is cooking in the room. The little babe has been regularly crawling off the bed and landing 'plonk' on the concrete floor.

Today we found what we have been looking for - a little scooter seat for her to be placed into at her home. We've got two happy girls now!

Navey with Alisa in her new super scooter.

Give me beans

Of all the good veges that have been planted in the Healing Home garden, first prize must go to the beans. This week I have been picking a good handful every two days. Man can beans grow fast!

Meanwhile, we have mangos dropping like flies onto the concrete below. The jackfruit have come on-stream too so between the fruit and the veges, we are indeed happy campers!

Susie on the warpath

Sue has made herself a woman of reputation this week. She got in a spat with a local hospital where staff are shamelessly ripping off the poor.

We had a critically ill woman, Rourn, arrive last week. She had tubercleosis (TB), pneumonia, a collapsed lung and maybe 20% capacity in lung two. And that is not counting a lupis-type disease wrecking her insides. The poor lady was gasping for breath. Her lovely, patient husband was with her and so worried.

Susie got her admitted to the good guys at Sihanouk Hospital. Once they had established a TB diagnosis she was transferred to a large hospital in the city that deals just with TB patients (and you wonder why Singapore heavily fines anyone spitting in a public place??).

The TB and leprosy hospital not far from our place. It's shaped like a big 'H' and makes you shudder to realise just how much TB is in this nation.

This is where the fun began. The hospital should provide free care as the World Health Organisation (WHO) provide the funding for TB care in Cambodia. Our staff were going up daily to provide food and to pray - and quickly came to realise that the husband was being fleeced left and right. For example, his wife was being charged for oxygen at NZ .80c per hour - pretty well a days wage per every two hours for the poor! The money went into a male nurse's pocket and got divied up from there no doubt.

Sue spoke with the attending doctor and was assured that TB medication and care was free. He said that the lady needed to have another three weeks in hospital. By now the husband was totally out of money. Susie then headed upstairs and got the hospital big wig. 'No, all free; oxygen free'. He came downstairs to announce 'free' in the ward - where other patients too were being fleeced. Next thing, the doc said 'she (Rourn) can go home today'.

Another day another coffee - nothing like a shot of caffeine for Sue to calm down and refocus before the next round of whatever comes her way.

We love Cambodia. We hate the iniquity. The callousness with which the poor are treated; the love of money and absence of compassion are hugely distressing here. On a bad day I want to bang some heads.

We brought Rourn and her husband back to the Healing Home for two days this week, but all she wanted to do was to go home to her village. They are not Christian, but oh so open to prayer and having the Word read. Now, we have to leave them fully in the Lord's hands - back in their village.

A long wait.

I remember a friend telling me about when he was the new apprentice in a firm and some of the tricks that were played on him. For example, there was the time when he was sent down the road to a shop to ask for 'a long weight'. A bloke told him to take a seat while they got him one. What he got was a long wait.

This is surely the land of the long wait. I quickly came to realise that, in Cambodia, time is not money - time is waiting. Coming out of a western world time-money-achieve driven culture, living here is, well, a little different. The perfect work of patience has many, many opportunities to find you in this country.

Yesterday was an example. I was happy to be on the road to the clinic at 7am with David and Heng on the back of the bike. We are still trying to get a handle on David - whether indeed he has had a motor-bike accident related brain injury or what. Heng, well she is one toothy beautiful mama who has a seized hand, a bad back and a few other negatives in her body.

Settling in for a long wait - patients watch a dvd on the life of Christ at CSI Clinic. A great young evangelist hits the 'pause' button periodically and preaches the Word. These guys do a great work in Phnom Penh. Heng is second from left on the seat.

Thus began the day of the long wait. Lunch time, and David asked if he could go with another health worker and have lunch at the church. No problem. Well, not until he did a runner and failed to return. Which left just the two of us, waiting.

I've learned to take my language books for potential long wait times. People see my lovely Khmer writing and immediately presume too much. My head may nod but my eyes are vacant. I'm mostly clueless by their fifth word. One lovely young guy approached me tho' and said 'pastor, I want to ask you question about God'. He told me that this was the first time he had spoken to a foreigner (all white-skins are called 'foreigner' here). We had a great time on the waiting seat. With his English and my Khmer we were peaking at around 14% comprehension.

3pm and we made a discovery - Heng's form for the clinic was, well, misplaced. By now the queue was pretty well over so it was simple enough to get a new form done, and wait. 4.30pm and she was in, being seen to by the most amiable and competent Dr Doug (who had, I saw, the original form in his folder ...). 5.15pm and just one more wait for some medication. 6pm and the lightened moto scooted home - where the AWOL David had re-appeared.

The AWOL David leaning on the lawn mower this evening. Our lawn may only be about 10m x 4m in size but it sure wrung a swimming pool worth of sweat out of the two of us!

Waiting is normal life here. Every day I watch the motodop drivers, sitting on their motorbikes and waiting for someone to hire them. Usually they sit in clusters of 4-6 and take turns. I estimate not less than 80% of their normal day would be waiting. There are over 10 times too many of them in this city. Ditto the tuktuk boys. They trawl the streets, cluster, talk and play cards - but for very many, the majority of their day is spent waiting. This is what I term 'underemployment'.

Time here is not money - time is waiting.

Here is 'our' trusty tuktuk man Kim, having a long wait for me at the airport a while ago!