Living the dream
And so to a guest house in Mae Hong Son for one night. I am trying not to get overexcited at the thought of the luxuries that await- clean, white sheets, a bed, a shower with hot water, an ensuite bathroom, food that is neither rice nor fried.
Wats in Mae Hong Son
Bu Reh’s friend arrives on his motorbike. He has Thai papers and so can take me to Mae Hong Son. First we go to his sister’s house so and he can check with her where the guest house is. The sister speaks good English and this provides me with a timely opportunity to check out the situation regarding refugees and dentists.
One of my students Maw Prae Meh, has toothache. A few days ago, one of her friends tells me ‘Teacher, Maw Prae no sleep. Tooth hurt.’ Maw Prae looks at me with large pain filled eyes while holding a hand to her jaw. ‘Let me look’ I ask and she opens her mouth. At the back there is a molar, possibly a wisdom tooth with very obvious signs of decay. My heart sinks. She must be in considerable discomfort, if not pain. That tooth needs to be treated as soon as possible. I quickly consult that medical expert, Dr Google and establish paracetamol or ibuprofen are as good as anything for toothache, but, from experience, I know that it may not have much impact. I dole out a couple of tablets and I hope there might be at least a placebo, if not actual, effect.
I consult the Principal. ‘Can I somehow get her to a dentist?’ Maw Prae has no Thai papers so cannot leave the immediate area, but maybe if I can take her in a car and we get stopped, the police will see a foreigner and wave us on. ‘Does he have any experience of access to dentists?’. One thing I like about the Principal is that he is direct. If he doesn’t know, he says so. No, he has no experience and adds, dishearteningly ‘You can get permit from the International Refugee Committee but it is not always possible. Many, many people have problems with teeth . In Myanmar, not so many problems, but in camp, many, many problems. My daughter also has problem with teeth’. We speculate that maybe their diet has worsened in the camp. Are they eating more sugary food or just not the right nutrition, I wonder. Suddenly I feel overwhelmed at the thought of hundreds of people suffering toothache with no recourse to treatment. The misery of decaying teeth as well as losing one’s home is yet another hardship for these refugees.
I tell the sister about Maw Prae. She says the best thing is to get her to the hospital. But it is dangerous as, if stopped by the Thai police, the driver will be arrested for transporting a refugee with no papers and it will cause a lot of trouble for them. If I were caught, as a foreigner, I would be probably be let off, but not a Thai resident. ‘What about getting a permit to go to hospital?’ I ask. ‘You can only get a permit if you are very sick. Toothache is not very sick. The best thing is to go to hospital. She can get treated with no papers but the price is high’. She continues to advise a possible course of action. ‘ You must get two motorbikes. One will go first and check there are no police checkpoints. Then they will phone the other motorbike and she can get to the hospital safely.’ The logistics are mildly alarming.
This is the sister’s solution but we agree I must talk to the Principal. Maw Prae is under his care and I cannot do anything to jeopardise him or the work of the centre. How many hurdles there are for this young woman, who is in daily pain. Why do we never hear of the dental needs of refugees? Aid organisations offer food, shelter, basic medical care, education but dental work appears low down the list of priorities. Dental pain may not be life threatening but it can cause the person suffering to feel absolutely wretched.
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| Trees throw shade onto road |
On the way to Mae Hong Son, I experience a brief euphoria on the back of the motorbike as the wind blows through my hair (well ..through the helmet) and we zoom along with, on my left, trees of teak, tamarind, padauk and bamboo climbing the rocky, ochre coloured hills. Now in the cold season after the dry, the leaves are dessicated and trees display colours of autumn, brown, gold, muted green with flashes of pink and red. They cast filigrees of welcome shade onto the road, while on my right, the flat paddies are vibrantly green with the shoots of young beans, onions and corn to be harvested ahead of the rainy season, when rice will be sown. Oh, it is good to be alive! At about the 30 minute mark, the delusion that I am a freewheeling motorbike chick rapidly dissipates as the hips indicate that there is no fool like an old fool. I start to worry that, on arrival, the young man might have to physically haul me off the back and help me to regain the function of walking.
He doesn’t. I retain some dignity. Hurray! I am here and I can confirm that with clean, white sheets, a bed, a luke warm water shower and an en-suite bathroom, I am living the dream.
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