The Last of the Big Spenders

The other day, from the window of a taxi I noticed a typical village house with sand bags atop the corrugated tin roof. In a high wind these sand bags keep the roof on. I mused about how soft we have become in North America. We would be useless in a natural disaster. We could not rebuild our houses in a few days with bamboo poles, a thatch or tin roof with grass mat walls and sleeping places. We would not be able to cook without electricity and our fancy pots, a charcoal burner does not sit in the back yard. Here, as soon as the winds are calm and the puddles in the yard and on the sandy lanes become passable, these industrious people are hard at the labour of making things right and spend little time in the elements after a storm.

Bruce went off one day to join a group of American therapists to visit a remote village west of Tam Ky where they provided treatments for the residents of a home for disabled children, many with cerebral palsy and Down Syndrome.

 I splurged and took a taxi for a day alone in the Old Town. Without a thought, until writing this post, I spent a lot of money, maybe enough to feed these kids for a week.

Here is a list of my expenditures:

• taxi fares to and from the town: $4 each way
• a manicure: $7 plus tip
• coffees for Quyen and me: $2
• two outfits for beach and casual wear: $30 

The total in Vietnamese currency is almost a million dong. Now that sounds major!

Today was a little steeper. We travelled by hired car into Da Nang to the Family Medical Centre. Bruce has a really nasty looking sore on his ankle and also a blocked ear. The total cost for his medical exam and treatments, as well as all the supplies that we need to treat the infection, including a course of antibiotics, came to a little over $250 US. Imagine this treatment at home! We were there for an hour, Bruce saw the doctor and was treated on the spot by a lovely English speaking nurse who debrided the wound and taught me how to cleanse and cover it twice a day. No more swimming for him for a while.

Then it was off to a large Korean operated department store to pick up a few supplies. I realized, as I cruised the wide isles of this spiffy clean place, that as romantic as it is to shop in our local farmers' market, I do miss some of the conveniences of home.

The cart:

• one bottle of Chilean white wine
• one bottle of Hanoi Vodka (tastes and smells like rubbing alcohol)
• two boxes of crackers ( which all contain sugar)
• cheese
• 4 packages of instant noodle soup (tsk,tsk..so much salt and MSG...probably wax on the noodles too!)
• i package of Korean kim chi
• peanut butter (also with sugar)
• hot dogs (for guess who?)
• mustard for said hot dogs
• butter for both Quyen and us
• Snickers bars for the boys
• Oreo cookies for the boys
• pistachio nuts
• yogurt
• milk
• coconut water

Total:$65!!! Once again more than enough money to buy rice and fish for a village family for a week.

Lessons come fast and furiously here in Hoi An, Vietnam. We constantly have to learn to be patient and live in the moment. We constantly relearn that we are guests here and that the wisdom of the locals is different. Their acceptance and graciousness humble us.

We complain about sand. Sand in our ears, sand in the sheets. We complain about the heat. We complain when things don't work or don't fit our perception of efficiency. The washing machine in our house, an addition since last year, takes 30 minutes to fill for each of the wash and rinse cycles....almost two hours in all to do one load, and I find that I so easily slip from appreciation for this convenience to griping about how long it takes!

Everyday we have to adjust our mental and emotional compasses. A good exercise for staying nimble of mind and heart.