Getting to Mandalay for Orbis

Dolores, the incredibly busy Orbis travel agent, and I traded many emails to crystallize the flight to Mandalay for me and my family.

Itinerary: Reno--San Fran--Tokyo--Bangkok--Yangon--Mandalay.

Unfortunately the trip started off with a delay out of Reno.
By the time we arrived in San Francisco, our flight to Bangkok had taken off.

In San Francisco, we met with a United airline representative to re-book our flights to Mandalay.
This somewhat intellectual, actually nerdy, looking chap, confidently proclaimed that not only could he rebook our flights but that instead of having us recheck our baggage in Bangkok, he could have it checked all the way to Mandalay. The key to the success of this seemingly improbable goal was the use of some sort of “radio ID tag.” Taken in by his confidence, I stated to my wife, Shilpa, that he must be some sort of “savant” in the alternate reality of the air travel universe. Overhearing this comment and perhaps pleased that his greatness has been recognized, he glanced up from the counter with a broad smile, shook my hand vigorously and presented us with food vouchers for six hungry Dhindsa’s. Happily surprised by this gift, I took the occasion to lecture my children about the virtues of showing appreciation to strangers.

Many hours later after passing through Los Angeles, Tokyo, and Bangkok we arrived in Yangon, Myanmar! (Our suitcases, perhaps not surprisingly, did not arrive.)


When we arrived in Yangon, we saw Dr. Charlene Hsu and Dr. Jin Kim, two other members of the Orbis Volunteer Faculty team. They were having their picture taken in the airport by a tall, Middle Eastern man. For a moment, I thought that Ahmad Gomaa, the excellent and cherubic Egyptian ophthalmologist, who had been in charge of the Orbis program in Enugu, Nigeria had undergone a total makeover.

Breaking my sleep-deprived random associations, this possible male model then asked us to take his snapshot with the plane in the background… Then another set of photos—this time with the Dhindsa clan and Drs. Hsu and Kim. (At this point, I am thinking we did not get this paparazzi type treatment on our last Orbis trip in Enugu from Ahmed and Amelia). After the extended photo shoot, I asked the middle Eastern gentleman what the plan was now—pass through customs, baggage collection, get on connecting flight to Mandalay etc. ?
(I am also getting a bit nervous about all this photography in a government building—in... Myanmar.) He looks at me quizzically. I respond with my own look of confusion. Breaking the silence and dead-locked gazes, Dr. Hsu explains that this gentleman is not from Orbis , but simply a random passenger/tourist who wanted to have his photo taken, and that she and Dr. Kim then wanted their photo take with the plane in the background etc…”Okaaaay….”


Once we get through customs, we set about trying to deal with our lost luggage. Not being very facile in Burmese, we search about for an English-speaking airport official.
After a number of attempts we find someone who in halting English tells us to go wait at the “Lost Luggage” podium. Dutifully we do so. However, nobody comes to the podium for what seems to be an eternity. We try to engage airport officials passing by. They all smile politely and keep moving.

Meanwhile, my wife and I strategize:
Priority 1—Get to Mandalay by tomorrow am, as this is the official start of the program (screening day).
Priority 2—Get our luggage.

Shilpa suggests that she and the 4 kids could stay in Yangon, and hopefully catch a flight the next day to Mandalay, when the luggage arrives. I am thinking: There seems to be a dearth of English speakers (at least in the airport) and while Shilpa is fluent in Gujrati, and the kids in Latin, our Burmese vocabulary is limited to “Mingalarpar”--—“Hi.”

We will have no telephonic means of communication.-- in an unfamiliar country. As we mull together all these points, an angel appears—actually an English-speaking representative from Bangkok Air. After a bit of negotiation, she assures us that she will get our luggage to us in Mandalay. Still weighing the likelihood of this, Dr. Charlene Hsu suddenly appears with an expeditor hired by Orbis. The expeditor urgently informs us that the domestic flight to Mandalay is leaving imminently. Taking her at her word (forgetting about our luggage issues), all six of us break out into a run behind this middle aged lady expeditor, out of the international terminal, into the sweltering heat, and in to the domestic terminal, several blocks away.

In the departure lounge, we seat ourselves next to our new found friends: Drs. Hsu and Kim.

For the next 5 minutes we fan ourselves furiously prior to boarding the rather small “Mandalay Air” plane. I focus on the fact that we are now only an hour and a half away from Mandalay. Unexpectedly, about 30 minutes later the plane begins to descend. The Captain states that we are stopping in the new capital of Myanmar: "Naypyidaw." “Okaaay” …After about a 5 minute pause, the captain continues that we will let a few passengers off and take off again and head off to Mandalay."--alleviating my fear that we had boarded the wrong plane. I settle back in my seat as my mind now wanders back to the lost luggage. However, the plane remains on the tarmac for about 30 minutes, at which point the captain explains that we should be taking off in about 5 minutes-- after “technical difficulties” are solved. This "tehnical difficulty" phrase gets repeated every 5 minutes... for the next 30 minutes. It is then decided, without explanation, that the plane will be evacuated.

All the passengers are then shepherded to the terminal of the airport via a rather modern appearing (at least relative to the airplane) bus.

We are deposited in a glass encased waiting room in the terminal. We take this opportunity to get to know Dr. Hsu and Dr. Kim and some other passengers, including an American who does psychological counseling of former child soldiers in Liberia, and who is vacationing here. I am thinking her skills might come in handy any time—here as not only the kids, but the adults all seem a bit anxious. (Another example of the really unique people one meets in travel to exotic destinations). She keeps my 7 year old daughter entertained and happy by sharing roasted pumpkin seeds with her.(As I gaze at Isabelle's happy face—I ponder why we can’t all find stress relief in the ingestion of such simple morsels. Maybe that is why I am not a counselor of former child soldiers).

After about an hour, the airline officials kindly announce that we can leave our room of confinement and head off to the airport café, where they will be serving “refreshments.” The official casually notes that they are unable to repair the technical difficulties with the airplane but hopefully at some point another plane will come from Yangon to pick us up and take us to Mandalay. My wife and two little ones head through the narrow doorway toward the café’ with the child psychologist. I try to engage in conversation and even a bit of levity with Dr. Kim. But he just keeps shaking his head, muttering, “This is not good.”

Suddenly an airport shuttle bus comes up to the waiting room and starts loading up the passengers from our room. An airline spokesman, notes that the technical difficulties have been fixed. Feeling simultaneously confused and somewhat anxious in that I have no idea where my wife and little ones are, I try to exit through the door to get them. Another smiling airport official blocks my exit, gesturing me to go through the other doors to get on the bus. Unable to speak enough Burmese to explain my goals, I resort to hemi-ballistic, wild gesticulations. Out of the corner of my eye, I note that Dr. Kim and the rest of the gang are now headed off to the airplane as the shuttle pulls away.

A surge of desperation nearly propels me through the “human barrier” when my wife and kids show up at the doorway. Wipe brow. Breathe sigh of relief. Another shuttle bus comes to take us to the plane.

As we board the plane, we pass Dr. Kim, who looks up at me from his seat, shakes his head, and mutters, “This is not good.”

Fortunately, our trip to Mandalay is uneventful.

As we headed off the airplane, all six members of the Dhindsa family almost simultaneously utter one word: “Wow!”as we spotted the Orbis DC 10 flying eye hospital. It looks beautiful in its pristine white with the bold, blue logo and slogan emblazoned near the front of the aircraft: “Orbis
Saving Sight Worldwide.”

We are greeted at the airport by my old “kaibigan” (“friend” in Tagalog), Leo. Originally from the Phillipines, Leo is a scrub nurse with whom I had done thousands of cases together at the King Khaled Eye Specialist Hospital (KKESH). I had left KKESH and moved to Reno five years ago. Leo had left to work for KKESH 12 years ago to work for Orbis (which I belief is a career record for Orbis Flying Hospital staff. The intensity of the flying hospital usually can only be handled in one or two year increments). Leo was an amazingly good scrub tech back in the day in Saudi. We had a great time on the long bus ride back to the hotel catching up on our mutual acquaintances and reminiscing about the good old days at KKESH.

Once, we made it to the hotel we were greeted by Dr. Ekta Aggarwal, a most charming ophthalmologist from Chennai, and Orbis Medical Director, Dr. Hunter Cherwek. The always thinking Hunter, presciently anticipating that our luggage would be lost, bestowed upon us an extensive array of clotheing-- for all the Dhindsa’s, (his entire wardrobe?) including his famous, as I was later to learn, elastic-waisted pants). My 14 year old boy, Ryan spied a “Tiger Beer” T shirt in Hunter's wardrobe and quickly claimed it for himself.

We also had the pleasure of handing off the corneas we had brought all the way from Reno-- on ice. (Daneille had fedexed us these from the New York Orbis office the day before we left.) The kids, as Danielle had predicted, really got a kick out of our responsibility for "bringing the eyes" to Myanmar! (We were relieved to hear from the cornea specialist on the trip, Dr. Robert Pineda, that the corneas all appeared viable upon transplantation surgery).

Happy that we would not be condemned to wearing our rather “ripe” clothing much longer (Though our family is close-knit, any further sharing of body odor could lead to a rather spectacular unraveling of such ties, or so I was afraid), we relaxed in the well-appointed lobby with a hotel-provided refreshing, actually almost glowing, green lemonade drink--spiked with cayenne pepper. Savoring this unusual concoction and feeling quite content having finally hooked up with the Orbis crew, I allowed my adrenalin levels to come down-- to the strains of old Beatles standards wafting by from the local, live lobby band. Another unexpected pleasure in our first hour in Mandalay...




LEO--gets down!