A New Flagpole!

Whilst maternal mortality is important, and the trial of Comrade Duch stirs memories locally, what is really important in my hospital this week is... a new flagpole!

With all the important issues even within the hospital - an outbreak of Dengue, drug shortages, poor facilities - I confess that I was slightly bemused that erecting a new flagpole, and spending the day celebrating it, was the top priority.

But maybe that just shows how little I still understand about Khmer culture. Cambodian people take their ceremonies very seriously, and something as mundane to me as a new wall or restored pole are major events here.

And perhaps that’s fair enough – it’s good to mark even small improvements, and the staff don’t get much to celebrate. At a stretch I can even believe that seemingly cosmetic improvements could not only improve staff morale and pride in their workplace, but might encourage people to access services here. Who knows, maybe having a shiny new flagpole is a major factor in influencing women with pre-eclampsia to come here for early treatment?

Friday had be chosen as the day to raise the new pole – apparently Fridays are good for new projects, just as Mondays are lucky for important meetings and Tuesdays are to be avoided for most things. I’m not sure if this is a Buddhist thing or a local tradition – I suspect Friday may also be chosen as it’s a handy day to start the weekend early by sitting round and getting pissed all afternoon.

Anyway, from the early hours there was growing excitement around the half-erected pole, with paint lovingly applied, rivets tightened and the flag tenderly folded and re-folded.

Then the climax. Of course I nearly missed it – I had retreated to my office for an hour or so, and whilst everyone else instinctively knew when the time had come, I was oblivious (how did everyone else know?).

So up it went, everyone with a hand on the pole for added luck. But panyaha! (problem).

Half way up it slowly dawned that the pole wouldn’t clear the electricity cable. Given that power is off more often than on it would have been a cruel irony to electrocute the entire hospital staff, but in a rare moment of health and safety we paused and awaited a solution.

Cambodians are great at fixing stuff, and within seconds the ambulance driver arrived with his great long stick and managed to create enough clearance for the flagpole to be raised – hurrah!

So that was it. Or so I foolishly thought, but actually that was just the start.

A pigs head had been cut off, such was the happiness of this day, so we all had to set about eating it. Sensing my nausia, the kind director ordered for some eggs to be brought for the poor queezy white man – phew! I cracked them open, wishing only for some mayo and a sprinking of paprika to make my day.

Horror! These were the ‘wrong kind of eggs’ – the poor cook had assumed that as this was a special occasion I would require special eggs – the ones with a half-grown chicken foetus inside. I know I should not have shown my disgust, but well – it was bloody revolting! Luckily the chap next to me was only too pleased to help out.

I couldn't avoid the drinking though - Bayon beer flowed, and as the honoured foreigner I was even given a cup, which was regularly chinked, as far as you can chink a plastic cup (at which point you have to chink everyone else and then drink). The cupless locals made cunning adaptations to their cans to allow ice to be inserted.

A top tip: always keep your glass completely full with cubes – this keeps beer cold, increases the ratio of water to cheap lager that you actually have to drink, and most importantly deters kind-intentioned friends from topping you up with ice (using their unwashed hands). So maybe I am getting to grips with the culture a little after all.

By noon the party was going strong, and despite attempts at evasion I was getting heady, so made a break for home. I figured I could have lunch, a quick nap, and at least get some work done in the afternoon. Another miscalculation – it was only then when the party really got started, with the addition of Khmer music DVDs on full blast, and the presence of the electrician from the next village – clearly a reason to party even harder (and the one time when there was no power cut).

So the patients moaned quietly, we sang loudly, and a pretty new flag fluttered proudly over the hospital. Cheers!