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The Strength To Carry On |
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Pumpkin, chili pepper, corn, eggplant, pea-pod. I took mental note of these plants during the earthquake-patient home visit. They were still budding, and there were perhaps only a few that were ripe. But I was amazed nevertheless, amazed at how in that thin, meager strip of land - no more than 1 meter in width, people have managed to grow all these kinds of vegetables.
And those were not just any vegetarian edibles. They were paintbrushes that added subtle color to the otherwise grayish-white backdrop of the temporary metal housing. They were the persistent symbol of life, displaying the way these earthquake victims have been replanting their food and rebuilding their homes, regardless of how infertile the soil might be, how tough the living conditions were. Talking to the quake survivors and absorbing the entire environment made me feel a surge of wordless, candid admiration for them and their resilience. |
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Back in the Sichuan-Hong Kong Rehabilitation Center, also a temporary setup that was once a kindergarten, I was nothing but a volunteer with no particular skills to offer. I remember on the first day, I found myself in an awkward place as I realized that despite all the articles I'd written for StandTALL and all the videos I'd watched about the patients, I didn't know where to start. I was very delighted to finally meet Xiao Song, for example - the youngest patient of StandTALL. But even before I had the chance to approach her, I already felt a nagging sense of guilt at the back of my head - a feeling that surfaced beyond my control shortly after my chat with Dr Law. Dr Law mentioned that at some point, Xiao Song really rejected strangers. She didn't understand why so many people came to visit her after the earthquake, hugged her, laughed with her, showered her with attention - and then just left. Those people were reporters who wanted a story that would sell, photographers who sought a unique shot of her amputation, volunteers who visited claiming to care, but ultimately only came to satisfy themselves and tell people afterwards, that they'd contributed to emergency relief efforts. They all had an ulterior agenda, and they all left when they'd fulfilled whatever they were seeking to fulfill. I felt guilty even before I met Xiao Song, because I knew I would inevitably be one of those leavers... |
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Instead of discouraging me, however, this silent sense of guilt constantly reminded me of why I had wanted to come to Chengdu with StandTALL. I am just 18 - I don't have any medical degree or experience that would be of any practical help to the patients. But I came to learn and talk to them as a humble nobody, and hoped that I would be able to help them in something, anything, during the trip or anytime in the future. I sat in on the Friday morning clinic session, and having watched case after case, I not only learnt a lot from the doctors who patiently imparted basic medical knowledge to me, I also discovered much more about the patients. By lunchtime, I was pretty much rendered speechless. The patients were so amazing, so tough, so incredibly brave. Yet again, I couldn't imagine how truly very lucky I happen to be, and I couldn't even begin to imagine how I might handle losing a limb, a parent and a home - all at the same time.
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Before I wrote this down, I was afraid that by attempting to articulate their courage, I would diminish their experience. But no, I suppose I'd been too conceited. How can my feeble, naive string of words ever be compared to the strength of the earthquake amputees?
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I am not trying to glorify the quake survivors. In fact, the general feeling that I got from talking to them is that in light of these unfortunate events, there is nothing they can do but stay strong. It is their only solution to overcome obstacle after obstacle. It is merely a pragmatic, unceremonious means of carrying on. And yet this simple need to sustain life is what I've come to admire them for. We are so fragile against nature and so insignificant as a faceless group, an anonymous plethora. But look, amongst us, there are always some heroes who embrace life silently and humbly; their physical fragility only making them mentally more invincible. Take home message? Life: live - happily and bravely.
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(Picture taken in Ljubljana, Slovenia – October 2008) |
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Sharing by Cindy Fung |
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August 2009 |
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