Oh my, Vanuatu: Expedited Service

NOTE: There was a popular string-band song in Vanuatu when we first moved here that repeated the line “Oh my, Vanuatu” several times. It was usually played in the arrivals lounge of the airport. Over the years, our team adopted the saying, reciting it tongue-in-cheek whenever we experienced something that could happen“only in Vanuatu.” I thought I’d start sharing some of those funny/frustrating stories this year…

Upon our arrival back into Vila, we learned that some Christians were in town from South Tanna Island, as their young son was in the hospital (he had gotten into the fire in their kitchen and burned his foot very badly, having to have all five toes amputated as a result - unfortunately a fairly common occurrence in the islands). While we were there visiting the family, I was reminded of a funny story that happened at the hospital two years ago.

Pierre is the eldest brother of Flexon (a Christian in Vila) and Alsen (a Christian in Tulwei Village, Malekula). While we were living in Tulwei, Pierre and his family regularly attended studies and assemblies, and we had several Bible studies and religious discussions. For several years, Pierre had suffered from a couple of different ailments - (per my novice diagnosis…) epileptic seizures and an abdominal hernia. He had been to the hospital on Malekula several times (there aren’t actually any MDs there), and had also spent a few months in the capital city at the public hospital a couple of years back. Having witnessed the pain he endured, and the tremendous load placed on his wife and eldest daughter because of his inability to go to the garden, we offered to take him to Vila with us to see one of the private doctors (hoping that they would do more than “take some tylenol and don’t do any heavy lifting…maybe it will be better in a couple of years”).

The private doctor did her examination and wanted us to go to the public hospital to have an x-ray and some blood work done. After waiting about an hour (it seemed longer) in line to check in, we were finally given some paperwork and told to go to an adjacent building. We checked in there, and had a seat. After another hour of waiting, we heard a ruckus down the hall. A man (obviously inebriated) in his late 20s, who was being pushed in a wheelchair by a very embarrassed friend, was cursing loudly, throwing his body around, grabbing at spitting on people as he passed by. All of a sudden, the x-ray door opened up and the man was ushered in immediately. 

So, I turned and looked at Pierre and said, “from now on whenever I bring someone to the hospital, we’re getting a wheelchair and they’re gonna act like that, so we can get faster service!” Once he realized I was only kidding, he chuckled. After another 30 minutes or so, we were finally called in. As we like to say, “oh my, Vanuatu!” Come to think of it, almost every Vila Central Hospital visit is an oh my, Vanuatu moment ;)

We spent a few days at VCH back when Titus was just a few days old