That's a HUGE Load

Yes, another Cambodia story.

One day Ratha and I were working in the clinic where I had just gotten a patient into the chair. He was a teenage boy. Always when I first see a patient I take a thorough look around their mouth, a reconnaissance, if you will. This boy had two fillings in between his two front teeth. Rarely did I see any existing restorations on the patients I saw on my mission, as the majority of the kids had never seen a dentist. So I stop and stare at these two fillings. They were horrific. They looked like they were made out of white Play-Dough, blob-like, with no attempt to smooth them or make them fit the anatomy of the teeth. Honestly, I could have done a better job my first day of dental school. Blindfolded.

Ratha sees these fillings, too, and notices I have stopped to stare at them. "A dentist did not do this." he says. Our conversation continues.

Me: "Well if a dentist did not do this..........WHO DID??"

R: "A dental practitioner."

Me: "What's a dental practitioner?", a position I have never heard of.

Ratha goes on to say, in his limited English, that in Cambodia, about 75% of the "dentists" there aren't even dentists at all. Often what happens is maybe someone knows a real dentist, and they talk them into showing them the ropes, then good enough, they open up shop and start practicing dentistry. And they are referred to as dental practitioners.

I ask Ratha if there is someone to regulate this. He gives me the look that he gives me when I talk too fast, or use phrases or words he does not understand. It's a look he gave me about a hundred times a day during our mission. "You know," I said, "Someone that makes sure this doesn't happen?"

"Sister," (he always called me sister) "Cambodia not like America. Cambodia does not have lawyer."

Which explains a lot, really. I would write a thousand posts with the theme "Cambodia does not have lawyer".

Anyway...On with my story.

My first day in this new land, we were driving along and something caught my eye, and for a brief moment I thought, HOLY CRAP IT'S THE IKEA HALF YEARLY SALE.



But no, I quickly realized, as I saw these massive loads all over the place. Really, I don't understand how they even load these little trucks so high. Do they use ladders?? Pull up really close to buildings and load from a second story window?





As if these loads weren't scary or dangerous enough...you'd see people riding on them!













Also, it seems that when it comes to riding on a moto in Cambodia, the more the merrier. Check out this picture. Dad with baby on his lap, dad has a helmet, baby doesn't.



Heading off to school, perhaps.



Count 'em. Four heads.



See the baby?





I did ride on a moto once there. I talked Jock into taking me to the Internet cafe in town so I could call Dale. I assumed we'd walk. But no. Jock asked the security guard at the hotel to take us. The security guard goes and gets his moto, they climb on while I just stand there. They both look at me like, Um hello, hop on. So the three of us head off in the dark, with me holding on for dear life, feverishly praying for safety.