A New Cambodian Adventure

Funny to follow up my previous post, outlining various forms of transportation, crazy drivers, and even crazier [lack of] traffic laws, with this posting.

Yesterday marked my halfway point in Cambodia. I had been here exactly 5 of 10 weeks. To mark this anniversary, I took a trip to an international clinic. And here's why:

Riding my bike home from the theatre for my lunch break (lunch is 2 hours at most businesses here), I decided to try a vegetarian restaurant I had just noticed. So I went to turn into the restaurant, always careful to check my surroundings. But I failed to notice (in my bicycle's blind-spot, you might say) a moto zooming toward me. Of course this didn't end well, and within a second, I found myself on the road, legs around my bike, and the moto on top of me. First thing, I looked to make sure my tote bag was still wrapped around my handlebars (I carry bags in the plastic basket mounted on front of the bike, and always secure it around the handlebars to help prevent drive-by theft)...it was there. As many people looked on at this Barang (Cambodian slang for foreigner) sprawled out on the road, I stood up, and straightened my bike. A quick once-over showed minor scrapes, including a skinned knee, no broken bones, and fortunetely I did not hit my head (though of course I wore my helmet). The moto driver seemed just fine, and as he yelled at me in Khmer, I started to walk myself and my bicycle away. No need to wait for the cops, as they don't do anything unless it involves them getting money out of it. And in this situation, as a foreigner who doesn't know the language, I just wanted to get away before the moto driver tried to harrass me.

So I walked my bike the remaining 4 blocks home, fine on my feet, but of course in shock at the occurrance. I arrived home, parked my bike in the driveway, and went to my room. My first concern at this point was not at my physical well-being, but at my computer, which had been in the tote in the basket. I took it out of its case, and looked at the screen. No cracks. Then I turned it on, just to make sure. It was fine. Phew! I guess the suspension from being attached to the handle bars, as well as the protection from the plastic basket, absorbed the shock. Now, onto myself. I grabbed my small first aid kit and prepared to clean my scrapes and calm down. But as I looked at my knee, what at first appeared to be a minor scrape now looked to be a concern. (Warning for a somewhat gory descrption:) There was a big flap of skin hanging off the knee cap, and blood was now flowing down my leg. This was more than my alcohol wipes, neosporin, and band-aids could handle. And, this being Cambodia, with my body constantly exposed to new bugs, I didn't want to risk infection. So off I went once more.

I had heard about the International SOS Clinic, where many wealthy Cambodians and foreigners go. Fortunately, I had also ridden my bike past it and knew it was just a few blocks away. So I set off to the clinic, walking the three blocks with one pant leg rolled up, and people staring at this bloody foreigner. Moto drivers still called to me, seeing if I wanted a ride. Did they really want my bloody leg touching their bike???

Arriving at SOS, my temperature was taken before I entered the building. Yup, testing for swine flu. No flu in site, I was allowed inside, and taken to a room for triage. There was surprisingly no wait, and 2 nurses immediately attended to me, starting to assess my knee and having me fill out foms. A few minutes later, the doctor arrived. He is Cambodian, went to med school in Russia, and speaks Khmer, Russian, French, and English. He cleaned the wound, and informed me he would have to stitch it up. Having avoided stitches for the past 24 years, with the exception of the dissolvable kind given after removing wisdom teeth, I didn't want to start in Cambodia. So I asked, couldn't he just use body glue? But being on a joint, that was not an option. A few pricks of a local anesthesia later (a shot on the knee, where there is no fat and it just goes into cartilage, is not something I recommend), he began to sew me up. When finished (wow, that anesthetic is awesome, I didn't feel a thing!), he counted the stitches in Khmer, which I was glad to find that I understood, even in my crying state of shock, and I knew that I had boon, four, stitches. I left the clinic in less than an hour total, walking pretty well, considering what I had just been through.

Today, my knee feels no pain, though I have some soreness and bruising elsewhere. I feel very fortunate that a cut knee was the extent of my injury, and that I have only been in the one accident. If you saw the drivers here, you'd understand what I mean. For the next few days, it will be business as usual, with a few visits to the doctor for cleaning. I will stay off my bike and motos for a while (I have yet to even assess the damage to the bike), sticking to the more expensive, though much safer, tuk-tuks. And for the time being, at least I can look forward to removing the stitches next week, and watching a scar develop to always remind me of Cambodia, balancing out the scar on my right shin from Israel.

And as for that vegetarian restaurant, it will just have to wait...