Dr. Jean Lieu Tsunami Relief Excerpts-January 3, 2005Bombay, India

Dr. Jean Lieu Tsunami Relief and RescueJournal Excerpts:
January 1-10, 2005
January 3, 2005Bombay, India

I'm finally in India and well on my way to Chennai. I can't help but wonder what awaits me there. My heart pounds with fear, excitement and anxiety. I can't believe how far I've come or the fact that I'm here at all.

This adventure started so inconspicuously but quickly took a life all its own. I had heard of the earthquake and tsunami that plagued Southeast Asia. But I was so engrossed in my own life that it didn't touch me. My callousness greatly bothered me. Thousands of people became victim…death, pain, suffering, misery…and all I could feel was my own small insignificant existence. I needed to feel again, to feel for others rather than only for myself. I needed to find heart and compassion. I needed to loose myself in a worthwhile cause, so India became my cause.

I scoured the internet feverishly hoping to find any call for volunteers. I was hoping to go to either Thailand or Indonesia because I was once a boat person and I remembered with gratefulness how those countries had opened their doors to my family and thousand of other Vietnamese families in need of asylum and shelter. This was the least I can do in return for their kindness. However, the only group I could find was Suyam, a charity championing children's causes in Southern India, in a city called Chennai. Without much hope, I emailed the contact person, doubtful that I would get a reply. Miraculously, he returned my email the same day saying that they urgently needed doctors on the field in Tamil Nadu, the worst hit region in India. I bought my ticket that night and scrambled to get a visa the following morning. I needed to apply for the visa in person at the Indian Consulate. I couldn't go without one; there was no exception. There was only one consulate on the west coast, and it was in San Francisco. It was already Wednesday and I had to work all day. My plane was due to leave Saturday afternoon. So going against my nature, I took off for San Francisco with Anh Nghia in the pouring rain. We arrived in San Francisco seven hours later. I told my brother to lie to my parents if they asked where I was.

The Indian Consulate was overflowing with people rushing to go home to visit their families. I felt conspicuously out of place. Anh Nghia and I were the only non-Indians there. When I got to the counter, they asked why I was going to India and if I had any formal written invitation from the charity in India, to which I replied no. My heart raced as the lady gave me a questioning look then turned away to go check on the name of the charity. I held my breath until she returned and was only able to exhale a nervous sigh of relief when she told me to return in the afternoon to reclaim my visa and passport.

When I returned to the Consulate, it was empty. Most people had gone for the day and it was close to closing time. When I got to the counter, once again, I was asked why I was going to India. Once again, the name of the organization I was meeting there. She took down the information and said she had to clear it with the Deputy Consul. Ten minutes later, she came back with a pen and paper for me to state why I was going to India, what I was going to do there, who I was meeting there, and how long I planned to stay. When I was done, she again disappeared with my written statement. She returned to tell me that the Deputy Consul wanted to meet with me. I panicked, my mind racing with the most horrible scenario as she led me up the stairs to his office. The building was now eerily quiet as our footsteps echoed in the halls. Were they going to arrest me, kidnap me, kill me? All I wanted to do was help. If they didn't want me to go, all they had to do was deny my visa. Why go to all this trouble? It was already dark outside and it would take me forever to get home.

She knocked on the door as a man's voice granted us permission to enter. He was a little Indian man sitting behind his desk. In my nervousness, all I remember was how he was already balding at the top. I mustered a brave smile, introduced myself and gave him a firm handshake, thanking my lucky stars for the vanity that forced me to groom myself and brush my teeth this morning! He led me over to a conference table in the corner of his vast office and looked over my statement. He started to tell me that his government was very much capable of handling their own affairs and that they didn't need any foreign aid. I politely replied that I understood but with all due respect, I was going anyway…if he granted me the visa, that is. I told him that Suyam had contacted me saying that they desperately needed a doctor on the field. I made him understand that I wasn't going there for sightseeing. I wanted to go to India because I am a doctor and part of my medical oath was to render services to those in need. His voice softened as he explained that he just wanted to make sure that my time and efforts would not be wasted. He then smiled and said I looked too young to be a doctor. I smiled back and said I've been told worst. He laughed at my joke and said that he had a 13 year old daughter who looked exactly like me. At that statement, I could feel my heart do a cartwheel…I was 20 years older than she was…and it sounded like I was going to get my visa! He called for his secretary and handed her my passport with instructions to complete my visa. It was well past closing time. Apparently, they had placed a hold on it, and I barely escaped a denial. As we waited for my visa, we talked about family and education. He was a civil engineer. Out of three thousand students, he was one of seven that got into the national engineering school in India; the ones who didn't make it went to MIT! When his secretary finally returned with my visa, he led me out of the office and walked me down the series of winding stairs out to the street.
It was dark and raining when I got outside. Anh Nghia was nowhere in sight and my cell phone was in the car. I finally got the visa, but now I've lost my ride. What else could possibly go wrong? I had to go to the bathroom…bad. Fortunately, the front door was still open. As I raced towards the bathroom, I bumped into Anh Nghia. He had been waiting downstairs for me all this time. I quickly grabbed him and led him out of the consulate, just in case they changed their minds and wanted to revoke my visa. We hopped into my Jeep and made our way towards LA in the torrential downpour. I was ecstatic. I finally got my visa! I still had to go to the bathroom…but I got my visa!
I worked on New Year's eve; my flight was scheduled for the next day. SAPVN was mobilizing for supplies, medicines and donations. What had begun as a personal endeavor became a group effort. Anh Nghia had gotten SAPVN to support me, and SAPVN in turn mobilized the support of various VA-NGO (Vietnamese American Non-Governmental Organizations) such as ICAN, Lua Viet and Pacific Links. I was now representing the Vietnamese American NGOs.
I was leaving the next day and I hadn't even packed yet. I got out of work later than expected. There was a power outage so I did minor surgery in the dark with a flashlight as my only source of light…what a way to prepare for my journey to India. After work, I rushed to see my parents and brothers, knowing that it could very well be the last time I saw them. It was comforting to know that I had their full support. If I died, they knew that I died doing something I believed in. And I was prepared to take that risk.

So here I am in Bombay. I left on New Year's Day and it is now the 3rd. I am two hours away from my destination. I've been awake for thirty hours now.
My thoughts drifted towards home to my friends and family. Anh Nghia had made it all possible. He had taken me as far as he could. Whatever happens from here on out is entirely in my hands. I'm on my own, yet not alone. I feel the strength and support of so many people, many of whom I've never met, such as Anh Vinh and Vicky the pharmacists, the staff of Dr. Arthur Lu and Dr. Trung La, chi Diep and chi Anh from Pacific Links, chi Quyen from ICAN, cha Chuong from Lua Viet; they don't know me yet I have their full faith, prayers, and encouragement. I only pray that I won't let them down and that I will be of some use. I want my life to mean something, to be of some significance. If I could just do some good, be of some use or some help here, however little, if I could just ease one person's mind or suffering, then this whole journey would have been worthwhile.