VISAS, DOCTORS and TRAINS

VISAS, DOCTORS and TRAINS

Well, the ongoing saga of our visa application continued for rather longer than expected. Having been recommended to a certain Mr Sai of Saiawardz Real Estate and Consultancy Services as a 'fixer', I had recruited three more people to apply jointly with Martine and me on the basis that the more of us there were the cheaper the price we might be able to negotiate. So our Italian friend Maurizio and our two new German friends, Rob and Tina all trooped off to the office, filled in the forms, handed over our passports and paid over our $600 each. Mr Sai assured us that our work visas, residence permits and ID cards would only take a couple of weeks.

(Alfred: part of the requirement was, of course, passport-sized photos for the various documents. But Lao people must be very fussy about these photos because when the documents did eventually materialise, the photos had been extensively Photoshopped to make them more 'professional'!)

                              

Now, I have previous experience of bureaucracies in many countries: Rwanda, Ireland,  tried to post a parcel in a French post office. I've even been to Belgium! So we were prepared for a longer wait than that promised. But a long wait it turned out to be!!

And then, suddenly, we needed the visas extremely urgently. One of the very few downsides of moving here is the almost complete absence of a reliable healthcare system. There are hospitals but very few expats - and quite a lot of Lao - are not particularly keen on visiting them. There are two small clinics run by the French and Australian Embassies respectively and a new Thai hospital has recently opened near the airport which may (or may not) be dependable.

Anyway, this meant that when Martine was stricken with severe ongoing abdominal pains, the French clinic said we had to go to Thailand for tests! And not just across the border to Nong Khai but to Udon Thani, about 45 minutes from the border by car and considerably further by bicycle! And, without passports or visas, impossible!!

We did ask whether any of the hospitals in Vientiane would suffice and the Belgian doctor explained that, if he was sure - or even reasonably sure - what was wrong, there were hospitals here he would trust for specific problems: orthopaedics, malaria etc. But abdominal pain being such a vague symptom, a hospital in Udon Thani was the only trustworthy option.

It is funny how life works sometimes. Here we were with no visas or passports and no transport. Within fifteen minutes, both problems are solved. I ring Mr Sai and explain the problem. He says that he 'has just received' the passports and will drive over to meet us with them (Alfred: And kudos to Ruairí for keeping a straight face, both on the phone and when Mr Sai arrived). Then I ring my friend Maurizio and he says he will come immediately and drive us to Udon Thani! (Alfred: More on the debt owed to Maurizio later). 

Shopping centre beside the hospital (Big Macs!!)

And then I ring the VHI. Before leaving Ireland we had decided to sign up for the VHI International cover, partly because it was the only plan that allows you to transfer back into the Irish system without undergoing a new health screening. And I just want to place on record here that the VHI were absolutely brilliant - when we arrived in Udon Thani they had already arranged everything with the hospital, they rang every day while we were to check everything was OK, and made two folllow-up calls when we were back in Laos. Thanks, Lindsay! (Alfred: Or maybe Lynsey. Lyndsey. Whatever). And they were also great when the hospital began suggesting additional procedures that were not really necessary!

The hospital let me stay in the room and I also wandered around Udon Thani a bit (Alfred: Not a place you would choose to go to on holiday). Apart from one friendly family restaurant, it was a bit grim and I gave up on finding a bar where one could have a drink without fighting off constant unwanted professional female attention (Alfred: Nicely phrased).  The hospital diagnosed intestinal parasites and gave Martine the necessary medication and, after two nights in Udon Thani, we were able to go home.

And this was the really great part - we went home by train!! Yes, train! There are three trains a day (Alfred: Maybe four, it's hard to say) from Udon Thani to the border crossing at Nong Khai. As you can see from the photos the trains are old and battered but were spotlessly clean inside and the fare was about 50 cent for the two of us. It was so nice to see a bit of countryside, rice fields, trees and wide open spaces (Alfred: Mind you, there are less extreme ways to get out of Vientiane).

Udorn Thani (that's how they spell it here) railway station

 

  

Alfred: Of course, after a few days the symptoms reasserted themselves but the French Clinic were able to give a slightly different medication that - eventually - sorted out the situation. Intestinal parasites it was and stubborn buggers too).

RAINY SEASON
Worrying is stupid. It's like walking around with an umbrella, waiting for it to rain. Wiz Khalifa

The rain it raineth on the just

And also on the unjust fellow.

But mainly on the just because

The unjust steals the just’s umbrella.

(Charles, Baron Bowen 1835-1894)

Well, the rainy season isn't quite as bad as we had expected, though when it rains, it really pours. Roads disappear under centimetres of water (Alfred: meaning you can't see the potholes) and you are drenched to the skin regardless of what you may or may not be wearing. One night cycling home from work I actually had to stop because I couldn't breathe with the volume of water pouring into my nose and mouth. Having done that, I realised that almost all the cars had likewise stopped as their wipers couldn't cope with the rain!!

The important difference (as we found out when we were back in Ireland in a chilly August) is that the rain is warm! So even if you are soaked, at least you don't feel miserable and frozen. (Alfred: And it was really cold, not quite monkey-asking-for-directions-to-a-welder cold but ridiculously cold for August). Of course, now that we are back in Laos, even Martine is hovering under the air conditioner as our bodies try and readjust.