I Dread What Will Happen Next

Life is full of doing those things that your parents always told you not to do. Don't get a tattoo, don't get a piercing, don't drink too much, don't be rude, don't hit your brother, don't taddle on people, don't smoke. I even remember my father telling me not to draw doodles on my school books, because if I was then it meant I most certainly wasn't concentrating on the work.

Perhaps its an inbuilt function that we rebel against our parents. But then, I have done many of those things (not the tattoo) mentioned with no second thought to what my parents taught or wanted from me. Did they put the idea in my head, or would I have done it anyway?

I dread to think what I will do next.

OMG @ the OMEC

The first time I saw surgery I was almost physically ill. The skin peeled back, a chisel pulled out and some bone chipped away. I’ve seen videos of cataract and other eye surgeries being performed as part of my assignment that I would liken to a game of billiards. But in Banepa, a small trading town on the road to Tibet, in a makeshift operating theatre inside a school classroom, Dr Ruit made cataract surgery look like an art form – 67 times.

Last weekend, I departed at 7am Saturday morning for my very first surgical camp (Outreach Microsurgical Eye Camp). We didn't actually travel far for this one. At an OMEC there are a lot of activities, all of which I sort of helped out with, sort of interfered with, all the while trying to keep my jaw from dragging along the ground. I could go on for hours about all the different parts of it. Most of that I am going to save for an article I am writing for our magazine, but I'll give you the main ingredients:

Departure and unloading - leaving Tilganga at 7 sharp we travelled the relatively short distance (as far as OMECs go) to the town of Banepa (somewhere Mike and I passed through on our Tibetan adventure), we unloaded all the makings for an anaesthetic room and an operating theatre and ate breakfast...mmmmmmm curried soybeans and oily deep fried bread! Sorry, I accidentally deleted the photos!
Screening camp - much like the trip I have already written about, I travelled on with a few of the boys to Dolalghat,



a nice little getaway another 40-50km or so on from Banepa. Many Kathmandu families go here for picnics and the area is famous for its fresh water fish (yuck). Here we screened more than 300 patients, 22 of whom needed cataract surgery.


I was in the counselling room "explaining" about their surgery and what was going to happen. In all honesty, I was writing down their details, while Ripon's brother (with no training qualifications or understanding of what, in fact, a cataract is) told the patients that we would be taking them to Banepa to "clean" their eyes.

[one of my favourite photos]

Apparently, mentioning the word surgery causes a kind of mass exodus that doesn't look good on our statistics.

Or to our donors.

I took a photo of one lady before stupidly trying to show it to her. She politely pointed out that she was effectively blind, and couldn't see the photo I was showing her.


I am constantly amazed at the ability of 80 and 90 year old Nepalis to wait patiently in this position for hours.



We returned on Saturday evening to finish preparing the "operating room", which was actually a classroom, and do final tests on the 22 cataract patients we identified and the other 30 or 40 the other screening camp group found.

Surgery Day 1 - Sunday was the start of surgery. From 8am Suha-daai started anaesthetising patients. Dr Ruit and two American doctors, Matt and Paul showed up and got straight into it!

One of the most amazing stories was an elderly mute man with bilateral "hand motion" visual acuity. Meaning, he could effectively only see you waving a hand in his face and not much more. Constantly frustrated in waiting around for he knew not what he often yelled out angrily, banging his stick on the ground.

[waiting for anaesthetic for surgery 1]

The surgeons got through about 60 patients on the day and we didn't get back for dinner until about 8pm.

[surgery 1]

I popped over to the hall where the patients were staying. That was it, a hall. With blankets and pillows.

[post surgery 1, not a happy camper]

Food, Cards and Good Company - As last time I found the field trip to be a great friend building experience. People I had previously only seen around the hospital were now joking around and making fun of my lack of Nepali. The girls would say stuff to me and then giggle hysterically. Pemba-daai gave me a new nickname. "Aloo Rob". Apparently "rob" also means "plant" in Nepali, I asked "what? like a potato (aloo)?" This caused a huge burst of laughter from the girls and solidified my new name. Pemba still thinks its funny a week later.

Surgery Day 2 - The second day of surgery, all the bilaterally blind patients (first eye operated on the day before) went back for their other eye to be done, following a post-op inspection. The eye-patch put on following surgery the day before is lifted and the ophthalmic assistants check the position of their new lens. It was a very special moment when my special guy's patch was lifted. His son stood at the top of the stairs and held up two fingers. He held up two in response and yelled excited nothings. I don’t know that there are many points in life where you feel the way I did in that single moment. I could not help but giggle as a wave of welcome happiness rushed through my entire body.

[post-op from surgery 1, yelling and pointing at his son]

Surgeries continued as did the screening downstairs. The patients had to wait calmly as each of them had their turn 'inside the room'.

Last Day - It was the last day, we had to finish up our post-ops, pack up and get back to Kathmandu. The patients needed instructions for any problems they might experience and we checked their visual acuity so we can analyse the camp for its level of success later.

[post-op surgery 2, laughing while everyone pointed at me and said "white man"]

The camp was such an amazing experience. I'll have to do another post to tell more of the special stories.

[the man in the beanie was a gorgeous gentleman that always gave me the thumbs up when he caught my eye, he was so happy to be able to see again {massive understatement}]

I was quite amazed to see people the DAY AFTER SURGERY with unaided visual acuity better than mine! Lucky buggers.

[one cool cat]

In total, we did 110 eyes and screened more than 700 patients. Less than 4 days work. That still amazes me. I'll put some links up soon for those of you that want to be able to contribute to this amazing phenomenon. For as little as $25 you can give one of these people their sight back. ;)

The Good Bits

So apparently I have been making it sound like Nepal is unbearable. I have absolutely no idea what would give anyone that impression, but thought I would make a post of all the really cool stuff that has happened or that I see everyday, or that puts a smile on my face. I warn you now, if I ever complain, its usually because I find negative things rather more comical. I think most people do. That's why we have sitcoms, and like watching people cry on Big Brother. Misery is more entertaining than a list of happy feel-good things.

Nevertheless, let's stop wasting time:

Raju lifting the phone of the hook, taking his shoes off, putting his feet up on the desk and saying, "Rob, I sleep", and promptly doing so.

- Copping out on my Halloween costume and just going as a "local biker" - this is what I wear to work everyday BTW, (sans 2Pac shirt obviously, that was there to make me more "local", I just couldn't find a Britney Spears shirt to look hardcore)

Rosie after the Halloween party in an effort that just goes to prove that you never can exaggerate the danger of sewage filled manholes.

Trekking awesome-ness

Hashing goodness

The amazing people that I have met here (I have more than one for every single day). I made a specific list just to see how many I had. Its an amazing list, with entries such as "chow mein guy", "chow mein guy's wife", mohan's family, "grumpy fruit man" but also such amazing names as all the other AYADs and various volunteers I have become friends with, Raj, Gunga, oh yeah! And the "loud female rights activist lady".

["smiling kiosk dude" from work]

The "Australian Big Day Out in Kathmandu" - a bizarre spectacle of 'Australian culture' right here in the Du. Complete with dancing and of course, man-love.

The local equivalent to a lorry passing me on the way to work.

Monkeys!

Sunrise over the Du.

To ABC - in a Nutshell

It's rather difficult to wrap up an amazing 14 day trip in a single post, but I'm going to do my best.

Day 1 - Riding - Kathmandu to Mugling

• Plan: Get up super early (ie 5 o'clock), beat the traffic get in as much as possible while it is still cool in the morning.
• Actual course of events: at midnight, am still up frantically trying to work out how to make all the stuff fit into my bag. Question whether 7 pairs of underwear is too many, decide to toss the Rubik's cube and second book. Actually depart at 6.30 after a sleep in, a breakfast disaster and managed to lose a waterbottle before making it to Patan (2 km).
• Traffic bustling, took a wrong turn in a part of Kathmandu I have never seen, almost die from pollution and contemplate the weight of my pack and the potential that I might have bitten off quite a bit more than I could chew.
• By 8 am, made some distance but weather sweltering. Smile, wave and laugh at buses passing me by with boys sitting on the roof and waving.
• Make friends with guys on a passing motorbike, only to catch them just after lunch and go for a swim together in the Trishuli River. Start to freak out as they point out they don't actually know how to swim. Realise this is the kind of thing you can only do when travelling alone, as if I were in a group not only would I have not met the boys, but probably not have jumped into a river.
  
• Swearing at the heat and my bum - which was screaming in agony at this point - roll into Mugling, a truck stop town, with nothing but dust, yelling children and a broken fan in my room.

Day 2 - Riding - Mugling to Pokhara.

• Down some panadol to quell the aching pain in the muscles and bones that I didn't even know existed in my nether regions.
  
• Swear at why I thought this might have been a good idea.
• Come around the side of a mountain, look up to curse Life, The Universe and Everything, to be smacked in the face by the most amazing view of the mountains watching over me as I ride. Remembered again THAT is exactly why I was riding and why I wanted to do it alone.
• Wonder why I haven't seen a single bus, taxi or truck all day.
  
• Reached Pokhara University with a sigh of relief only to discover it is another 10 km to go.
• Discover it another 10 km to get to my colleague's wife's house to deposit bicycle. Get there to also discover the magical Nepali equation that cultural differences multiplied by married woman, white man and adding sweaty, sunburnt and dirty condition meant it too much to expect a nice cup of tea.
• Found out there was a nationwide strike meaning no buses etc, and that I would have to walk the 15 km to my hotel.
• Hitched 2 seperate rides with motorbikes, the latter taking me to his home for a cup of tea where I found myself trying to convince him that I would rather stay in a hotel overnight although his hospitality was very much appreciated.

Day 1 - Hiking - Pokhara to Phedi and Pothana

• Rain, bueaucratic nonsense, bad directions and a ride on the roof of a bus found me leaving Phedi at about noon.
• Met Bruce - insane hippie man from NZ, "locked up by Sir Joh under the Vagrant's Act". Using a golf club as a walking stick. Up what I thought to be one of the most collossal staircases ever created I found myself refilling with water in the tiny one shop town of Damphus.
• There a towering American from Delaware called Bryan appeared in front of me and enquired if I was going to ABC (Annapurna Base Camp). After replying in the affirmative we became travelling buddies.
• Asserting to share a room to lower costs, the young boy (about 9) at the second lodge we came to in Pothana dropped the price from 200R to 50R before we even started bargaining. Boy ran around for us all night, more than excited to do anything imaginable for us. I have a strong feeling he would have hiked up the mountain and taken the photos for me had I asked him to.
  
• Continually smacked in the gob by images of Machupucharre (Fishtail mountain)
  

Day 2 - Hiking - Pothana to Jhinu

• It's all uphill baby.
  
• Survived leech attack.
• Bathed in the hot springs while creepy old man watched on and smiled contentedly. He hand signalled that I should wring out my underwear to dry off "no ladies, no problem". Elected to wear wet undies back to lodge.
• So close to mountains that we can't see them. Literally "can't see the mountains for the trees".
• Not a fan of squat toilets - particularly when cold and legs tired from exercise..
  

Day 3 - Hiking - Jhinu to Dovan

• As we passed Chomrong (where my theory on the stairs of Phedi where laid to waste [in a rather uncomfortable sticky and smelly way]) the road from Ghorepani joine dus and became that much more busy.
• A couple of Dutchmen walked past us in the other direction - no bags - assumed they had a porter (sad looking Nepali that carries immense weights up the hill). 10 minutes - no porter - tried to communicate to Bryan - "I wonder where the dutchmen's porter is" - misinterpretation due to waterfall.- thought I asked "have you heard of Dutchmen's Porter?" - acknowledged that that was a pretty cool name for a band - and thus the travelling "Dutchmen's Porter" was born.
  
• From that moment onwards whenever we crested a massive hill you could hear the cry "Dutchmen's Porter" with much posing like rock stars and we would pound fists as the Americans are so fond of doing.
• Stairs up and down from Chomrong started playing agony on my knee.
  

Day 4 - Doban to Machupucharre Base Camp (spelling alters based on altitude sickness, age of map, amount of beer consumed and which sign you are looking at)

• Starting to feel the cold.
• Made it by 1pm, at lunch and qould have contemplated the beauty of the mountains, if we could have seen more than 10m through the fog.
• Billions of sheep that sound like humans imitating sheep.
• Now at an altitude of more than 3800m, but have hiked higher tdue to up and downness of the road on the way (at times fearing we might end up back in the ocean).
• Met Cloe, the insane Belgian who had made it from Chomrong to MBC in a day.
  

Day 5 - MBC to ABC

• 4am wake up
  
• Bryan without enough clothes - wore everything he owned and two blankets, almost died from cold*
• Climb to ABC for sunrise and breakfast.
  
• Many photos with loud obnoxious Australians, Cloe, Bryan and passing Norwegian group who seemed to have no idea they continued to walk in on everyone's photos.
• Enjoyed fantastic breakfast with beer and a rising sun.
• Moment ruined by being asked to move to make way for Norwegian group (that apparently all need to sit at the same table regardless of the fact that with a group of 20 people, you can't talk to them all anyway)
• Resolved to be dark at confrontational to all future group travellers.
• Determined to touch some snow - climbed up a major rock fall - much to the digust of aforementioned knee. Almost made it (about 200-300m above ABC)- decided I liked life too much. Got some beautiful fresh and freezing water. Climbed back down - also to disgust of knee.

*Not really

The return trip has many lovely anecdotes, including a deaf man with a marijuana tree, a bald man with gum boots, some codeine pill popping, a running Frenchman, some Israelis (one of whom walked a little like Frankenstein or the BFG), mountains peeling like bananas and the second most beautiful view of the whole trek covered by inpenetrable clouds. But I believe that's enough for now.

1 Day In

WOW. Have arrived. We are absolutely exhausted. Now about 9pm.

We went to look at the place Susan (our In Country Manager) thought would be good for me, but the landlord had put an extra padlock on the door and we couldn't get in. I hopped around the back to see if I could see in, but I couldn't get all the way around. THe unit is in a block of apartments and up a level, so as I tried to go around the back I was up above on a balcony and I looked down to see a gigantic rat running away. HMMM, we'll wait to see the inside tomorrow.

I had my first shower after dinner, it was SOOOOOO good, I also had to work out how to use a bidet without an instruction manual. Not a comfortable experience. Call me weird, but I have managed to get this far in life without having to worry about that. Essentially the problem is that you can't flush toilet paper down, or it will clog everything up. Solution, shoot some cold water up your petoot and wipe away.

We've already had it shower twice, once on the way back from dinner and we definitely weren't attired appropriately, no umbrella, no raincoats and about 10 minutes to walk in the rain. It really is different though, cars and scooters everywhere. Tiny little mini-vans with 30 people piled into them.

Everyone toots to let you know that they are coming, so its just a constant din. Technically, one drives on the left. But given the likelihood of the bus you are following stopping randomly in the middle of the intersection, its every man for himself. Just prey your horn is louder than the next guy's. Everyone is trying to sell you stuff and many have asked me "smoke?". I'll let you interpret that how you will.

Day after tomorrow though we are going to a place called Club Himalaya. Its a sort of hotel up in the mountains over looking the Kathmandu Valley, which will be pretty sweet. But then back to town for the rest of the week. I won't actually start work until Monday week. I really need the time to settle in, I feel like I know nothing about this place. But then again, I haven't really slept in 36 hours, so I'm kind of walking around like a bit of a starry-eyed 5 year old.

I'll see if I can remedy that by tomorrow.

What an experience!