My Friend Suwadi | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: My Friend Suwadi | Previous Challenge Entry
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03/04/09
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I have often seen children playing outside the hospital, but never had one come in to socialize. Today, though, there she was, unattended.
“Sawatdee Kaa,” she said.
“Sawatdee Kaa,” I said back. Since I had interned to Thailand from Boston, I had learned to speak a lot of Thai, but I still had a Boston accent. I asked what her name was by repeating as many words that I could remember. She laughed as my tongue tripped over each syllable, which was not common for most children there, who respected their piers.
“Suwadi,” she said. I looked at the schedule. No ‘Suwadi’ booked for today. I thought about asking for her last name, or why she wasn’t at school, but the language barrier filtered everything that popped into my head. I tried working as usual, making sure patients were sent to the right floor, and asking anyone who came in as to the origin of my newfound tag-along. No one knew. Somewhere around the afternoon, I had some time to relax. I unconsciously tipped back in the computer chair, slipped in my ear buds to my Ipod in and closed my eyes. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I opened my eyes. Less than a centimeter from my face was her pushed-in Burmese nose.
“Oh, you want to listen too?” I said in English. I was too burnt out to do otherwise. I took out one of the ear buds and held it out to her. She stared at it. I took the other bud out of my other ear, then slowly put it back in, showing her how to do it. She nodded and smiled, showing all of her teeth, except for both her top canines, which were missing. She put the ear bud in, then immediately pulled it out, screwing her face up, and handing the ear bud back to me. I guess she didn’t appreciate Toby Mac. No bother. I showed her how to use the thumbwheel and pick a song she liked. She smiled with sheer enjoyment as she flipped through all five hundred or so of my songs. Then she got really excited and started randomly clicking buttons all over the machine. I went to grab it back from her, then I saw the screen go black. “Oh no,” I said. I turned it on, then off, then on again, but there was nothing. It was probably dead. No need to freak out yet... just plug it in. it should be fine. Again, there was nothing. A feeling of utter rage swept over me. I felt my muscles flexed in rage. The nerve of her! To take my only lifeline of American culture! She had carelessly fried it! I turned from the charger to face her- then I thought- would Jesus be mad right now? Would he condemn an innocent girl who probably had no parents for a careless mistake? I took no action. I wouldn’t yell at her, but I still hated her in my heart. I ignored her for the rest of the day. All night I wrestled with myself over the incident. I hardly slept, and when I did, my dreams were infested with an infamous Suwadi. I got to the hospital fifteen minutes late that day. I was surprised to find Suwadi wasn’t there. I waited for Suwadi for thirty-five minutes. Susan, another intern, walked through.
“Susan, have you seen a little girl today?” I asked.
“No, why? What she look like?” Susan said.
“No reason. She was just around here yesterday,”
“Oh,” Susan said, “I don’t know how to tell you this, but, we found a little girl out here late last night... unconscious. It seems she had a seizure and suffered a concussion, she died last night,”
I was to shocked for words. I tried crying, but my bruised heart wouldn’t allow me the satisfaction of shedding tears for... Suwadi. Why had this happened to her? Why had her delicate life been snuffed out like a candle? Why had I hated her? Why was my personal convenience more important than her life? I was silently searching my soul for the answers to these questions for the rest of the day. That night, I paid my penance by attending her funeral. I couldn’t understand a word of Thai they spoke about her, but I stood there, imagining a Burmese nose and a canine-less smile. As I filed by the casket, I placed the fried Ipod in. Then I cried.

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