Wei Wei in China Introduction by Abigail Rothberg: My friend Wei Wei went to China for two years before attending NYU medical school in New York City. When I heard that Wei was deferring her admission to NYU to teach in China, I was very excited because I thought a year (which turned into two) abroad would be extremely valuable to her. After a year in Hong Kong, Wei worked at a center on mainland China educating people about HIV/AIDS. Each day Wei was challenged by her unfamiliarity with Cantonese and local dialects, as well as her struggle to educate people about HIV/AIDS who had little to no understanding of the virus by which their people were plagued. The following are two emails I received from her describing her life overseas. The first email is dated April 24, 2002, the second, April 30, 2002. You know that old joke—dig a hole though the middle of the earth and you end up in China? It feels like an alternate universe, the complete opposite of Hong Kong.  I arrived in XiShuangBanna late afternoon yesterday and stayed at the posh hotel I shacked up in last time (very convenient and right across the street from the center.) However, it is 10 USD a night and a bit steep for my budget, so goodbye convenience and (some) comforts.  I found a place, after much phone calling from Long-jie (my boss lady) at this little hotel for 700 (85USD) a month. It is farther but has aircon (thank god) and its own bathroom. It is unraveling around the edges, stained carpet, dim lighting and just all together worn. Good news is that I get to ride a bike to and from work and went exploring. It is a quiet town, streets lined with palm trees with lots of commercial distractions alongside ing with pride for HK, as if I had anything to do with it. I felt bad not being able to communicate effectively, especially when they ask me questions about AIDS. So, I resolve to study the vocabulary and learn the necessary terms to speak intelligently. I need to figure out how to explain why you can’t get AIDS by a mosquito bite, and how it is transmitted from mother to child (but not 100% of the time) tonight.  It is challenging in such a constructive way though. I am really happy here. I will be working with LiLin (a young 20 something female social work graduate) and XiaoXie (a young 20 something male) on putting together AIDS workshops for the villagers. So that’s what I’ll be doing—AIDS prevention for peasants. We start going to the villages sometime in early May, since it is harvesting time now and everyone is busy in the fields. *** There is a big holiday here, and all one billion people are on vacation this week for the May 1st holidays. They have arrived in lovely Banna and are dutifully bringing commerce and life to the sleepy streets.  I am recovering from my first visit to a Chinese medicine doctor. My coworkers insisted that I have my cold examined; I have been coughing and blowing my nose all week, so I finally gave in after much protest. I had all these horrible images of what a Chinese hospital would be like from those New York Times articles about reused needles and other unsavory details. It wasn’t so bad, but the disheveled doctor was dressed with local flare in a grimy tee-shirt and shorts detailed with the Haini minority style of embroidery. I walked into the large room set up with cots scattered haphazardly in maze formation and feasted my eyes on patient upon patient lying with acupuncture needles, tips ablaze, making swirls of smokey space very much like incense in temples. The doctor felt my pulse, looked at my tongue and asked me how long I had been coughing. He told me that I don’t digest my food well and that I have bad circulation. Yikes. The treatment (for my cough) was to be huo guan (fire bottle). So I took a deep breath and let him commence. I exposed my back, and first he swabbed with alcohol, then inserted 18 acupuncture needles in strategic points, lit the tips as he brought the bottles close to create a vacuum, and boy was the suction intense. So I had these 16 heavy glass jars suctioned onto my back while my coworker was laughing and concerned for me all at once. I didn’t dare to move and it was such a strange feeling, very tortoise like. Thankfully, it only took five minutes for him to return and he detached the suckers. Now, I have 16 enormous hickey-colored circles all over my back.  All this for 40 RMB (5 USD) and I have to return for a second treatment in two days. Alas, I am still coughing but they say it takes time... I’m feeling a little tired from the translation I am doing—reports on the center’s activities from Chinese to English, very difficult and time consuming. I am learning a lot about what kind of work they do and I have to say it really helps women and children who are often in desperate need. They work with a lot of wives who are being abused and help them by either trying to work it out with the husbands (which never really works here) or helping with divorces. These women are often very, very poor women with philandering abusive husbands and young children who have little means to support themselves.  The center serves as their legal advocates and psychological counselors. They try to fight for adequate child support payments and property, which is often denied to them in courts. The children’s cases are especially heart wrenching. This 10 year old boy from a small village lives with his Mom and his Dad is in prison. He is very bright and the star student at his small village school. His mother is pretty destitute, farms her small plot of land, and cannot afford to keep sending him to school (the tuition is 200 or 300 RMB, 30 USD a year). His teachers offered to pay for some of the tuition for him, but she still can’t afford to pay the difference. She gives him 5 jiao a week (which is 6 cents) to spend, and he still manages to save some money and gives it to his Mom when she can’t meet the bills. When asked what he would want to eat if he could have anything, he asked for the local noodles, mian xian, which are about 2 RMB for a huge bowl. So the center is going to try to pay the rest of his tuition, and try to train the mother in another job, perhaps buy her some kitchen tools (stove top, woks) or something so she can start a small food business to raise their income. They do good work here and I am trying to make my contribution. We start the AIDS workshops in villages soon and I am looking forward to them. I met some people from religious organizations here today, (English speaking) who are working with poverty alleviation and leprosy. They were really interesting to talk to, but were aggressively trying to proselytize.  I would like to learn more about what they do and perhaps visit the villages with them.  On another note, I discovered this place isn’t as crude as I thought. I strolled around different parts of town and stumbled upon the fancier hotels (for a whopping 200 RMB, 30 USD a night) with swimming pools and two with their own bowling alleys. I plan to hit the lanes soon. The scenery is very beautiful here. *** Wei Wei wrote an email February 6, 2003 telling me about her life after China at NYU. After a great deal of inner turmoil, I retired my passport and returned to New York to begin my next voyage- medical school. Pulling myself away from my life in China was incredibly difficult and I arrived in the U.S. four scant days before orientation after a month long detour through Tibet and Nepal. My life has become unrecognizable since it took this turn into the classroom. My major accomplishment has been completing anatomy unscathed and dealing with the complexities of emotion and intellect inherent in working for several hours a day with a cadaver. Admittedly, I am a very restless student and am already planning my sojourn for the summer. I am currently working to find placement at an international site to continue public health work related to AIDS. Life is no longer as exciting for me as it was six months ago, but I am content to explore the intricacies of the human body and learn the pathologies of illness so my future travels can bring with them the ability to heal those I come across along the way. Wei Wei Lee

 

Return to Contents