A Life In The Day

06.00 Most people hate being woken by their alarm, but I love it – it’s proof of an unusually good sleep. More often I’ve already been awake a hour or so, thanks to crowing cocks, howling hounds, chugging tractors or percussive pagodas.

06.15 The bread man motos past my house announcing his delicious fresh baguettes. Always when I’m in the shower.

06.30 Breakfast on my balcony as the sun rises. It doesn’t get much better than this. It’s cool, and I have a grandstand view as the village comes to life. Women cycle their goods to market, immaculately-uniformed kids drift to school, monks glide along in line to beg for food.

07.15 I must have the best commute in the world. The village wise-man opposite breaks from telling fortunes or chalking Sanskrit on his wooden walls, to greet me with a friendly ''good morning doctor!". I’ve given up trying to correct him, but one day my cover may be blown. Then it’s an idyllic stroll past stilted houses and over the temple island, admiring the lilies as they come to life in the gentle sunshine.

07.30 My volunteer assistant Sokpha will already be at the hospital. It feels early, but he has already chopped wood, taught English, eaten rice and got all the latest news before I even arrive.

08.00 Hospital meeting. The timing is approximate. I now know the starting time is when the Director arrives. But I’ve no idea when this will be – other staff just seem to sense it. At the meeting, daily figures are mumbled and flip-flops examined. Staff are bereted for not being at work, not accounting for drugs, not caring for the politician’s daughter. And I find out exactly how much of my ‘personal’ life has been observed and commented on – invariably all of it.

09.00 Ward rounds. I like to speak to staff and patients, and observe what is going on in the hospital. I was delighted to hear patients and carers value my input – though I suspect they are reassured as much by my presence as a white man as for my knowledge of hospital management techniques.

10.00 Office. If we have electricity we’re in business. If we also have an internet connection we prioritise Facebook, er I mean important work emails. Actually the first thing to check these days is an update on the skirmishes between Thai and Cambodian soldiers – the border is only 15kms away.

11.00. Before I know it Sokpha is off to eat rice, and I’ll follow shortly. Everything stops at 11.00 – you wouldn’t stand between a bear and its cub, and don’t even think of asking a Cambodian to work at rice-eating time.

11.30. Stroll home over temple island, and straight to the market for the day’s Khmer practice and hopefully purchases of pumpkin, onions, carrots and leafy greens. Plus, at this time of year heaps of ripe mangos – bliss!

12.15 Quick cooling shower, then I cook my favourite lunch – noodles with the veg I bought, plus cashews and a dash of enlivening chili. Followed by a nice cuppa tea and a biscuit, and maybe even a little snooze in my hammock – everyone should do this after lunch, everyone!

13.15 Wake and quickly prepare for the afternoon. Chat with landlord / cleaning lady / passing dog about the rice harvest / where I’m going / why I’m still not married.

14.00 Meet back at the hospital, and hope some staff appear. There may be meetings to attend, visitors to greet, staff to be encouraged. Or if it’s a quieter day I can sneak to the office to make phone calls, write documents or catch up on emails. Present projects include improving quality in the paediatric and obstetric wards following the hospital assessment, focusing on infection control, overseeing the building of the new surgical unit, and trying to establish a hospital vegetable garden as a sustainable way of improving patient nutrition.

16.00 If I need to speak to anyone in the late afternoon they won’t be mopping patient brows, but may still be on the ward (as that’s where the tvs are - bought to allow the playing of health education DVDs - aye right!). More likely staff will be practicing communication skills under the tamarind tree. Or role-modeling healthy active lifestyles on the volleyball court.

17.00 The day is ending already and Sokpha is away to his family. Unless I’ve been persuaded to play football or it’s the day of my Khmer lesson, I’ll stay a little later. However, either the electricity or any internet cuts by 6pm. This is good, as it’s getting late, and a lone foreigner after dark is fair game for the village hounds. It’s time to go home.

18.30 Another cooling shower, then cooking. Present favourites are pumpkin curry in coconut, with brown rice and a squeeze of lime; or corn fritters, with cucumber and either rice or couscous – chennang nah! (=mmmm!).

20.00 Therapy. I’ll want to speak to Katja, so far away in Stung Treng, which depending on the day’s events may be a quick chat or a lengthy session. And if my colleague Alison isn’t on one of her visits up here then we may compare notes by phone – did we share any skills / change any lives today? She is a master at reminding me that this is a marathon not a sprint, and that even small steps should be celebrated.

21.00 All the athletics metaphors remind me I need an early night if I’m going to run the next morning. I may sneak in a little reading or DVD from the wonderful library at VSO's Programme Office – there’s not much of a village social life, so these are a life saver! And I have been known to write the odd thing too…

22.00 Good night! I crawl in under my mozzie net, snuggle with Gwendaline the (stuffed) Gecko, and pray that the thumping wedding music will soon subside…

Where did the day go?