The way to get your advice heeded

I went to the dental hospital this morning. Since Maz is gone now, I was under the impression that this appointment was with the oral hygienist that he had booked for me before he moved to Sheffield. To my surprise, it's another dental student.

Even more surprising was that this dental student was a Chinese Malaysian. She had a round, chubby face, and wore that distinctive Malaysian/Singaporean accent.

She started the normal procedure all over again, charting my teeth with the assistance of a proper dental nurse. I was lying on the dental chair, half apprehensive and half suspicious as I wasn't sure she was a dental student or an oral hygienist student.

And because she forgot to wear a mask, I was able to see her full face (but upside down). She had a full-moon face, an immaculate facial texture (while mine is like the surface of the moon) and she was not wearing any glasses at all. I could see her deep brown iris when she was looking deep into my mouth. But as the entire image was upside down, I could not form a mental picture to tell whether she looked pretty or not.

Well, all I could observe was that her teeth were for sure much better healthy than mine.

"Measles..., bucket..., gingivitis..., upper left 6; bucket..., no.7..." She kept murmuring to the dental nurse as she was charting my teeth.

I was appalled by the grave condition of my teeth.

"How could such a pretty face like hers utter such horrible words like these?" I kept wondering. Also I wondered which year of her study she was in, as apparently she forgot to put on any protective glasses, nor did she ask me to put mine on.

Anyway, after the charting, she summed up with the conclusion: "You've got pockets all over your teeth. You'd better brush your teeth more thoroughly."

"But I always do," I protested.

"Probably not the right way," said she.

She showed me how I should use the toothbrush properly as if I'd never learned to use it before. "Press the head of your toothbrush firmly towards the gum line. Let it reach into the pockets to brush away the plaque hidden there." She even demonstrated to me the proper way to use the floss. Then she asked her supervisor to come over and presented me to him.

The supervisor was a 50ish year-old gentleman. He listened attentively first to the dental student's presentation, and then carried out an inspection into my mouth himself. He then demonstrated how to offer advice in a professional manner to the patient so that the advice could sink in more easily:

"Suppose I have some problems in playing golf. I could hardly hit the ball at all. I asked my coach for help. My coach came to observe my grip, my posture, my stance, my swing...etc. And he noticed I had committed 5 mistakes.

He wouldn't spell out 5 mistakes all at once, because he knew that I could only rectify one at a time, or 2 at best. Instead, he'd concentrate on the most serious error that I made so that I could improve my results drastically. After I'd made some progress, he'd then address the rest one by one.

If you want your patient to take on board what you have to offer him, you'd concentrate on the most serious problem first. Let the advice sink in. And wait for the improvements. Then you address the others. There, you could achieve the desirable effect and be able to gain your patient's confidence in you."

How marvelous an advice it was for every consultant!

As I was lying on the dentist chair, I could feel the teaching going in between a superb teacher and his student. Not only did the student benefit from such teaching, I as a patient also had an eye-opening experience unfolding right in front of my eyes.

What a job well done, professor!

Ronnie
31/1/2007

Love songs at Burns Supper

Last Friday evening (January 26th), I was invited to attend another Burns Supper at St. Simon's church. It was the second Burns Supper that I attended within a week, but neither of the two fell on the official date for Burns Supper (which should be January 25th every year).

Though we didn't have live bagpipe music at the entry of the Haggis, there was a recorded piece of such music. As usual, there were some traditional Scottish songs during the supper. I don't know whether these songs were composed by Robert Burns, but I do know that they are very touching in their simplicity. Here are two of them:

Red, Red Rose

O, my luve's like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June,
O, my luve's like a melodie
That's sweetly played in tune.
As fair as thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I,
And I will luve thee still, my dear
Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear.
Till a' the seas gang dry.
And I will luve thee still, my dear
Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun.
O! I will luve thee still, my dear
While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only luve,
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile!

Tho' it were ten thousand mile, my luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile, my luve,
And I will come again, my luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.

The Banks o'Doon

Ye banks and braes o'Bonnie Doon
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds?
And I sae weary, fu' o' care!

Thou'll break my heart, thou warbling bird,
That wantons thro' the flowering throne,
Thou minds me o' departed joys,
Departed never to return.

Aft hae I rov'd by Bonnie Doon
To see the rose and woodbine twine,
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
As fondly sae did I o' mine.

Wi' lichtsom heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree!
And my fause lover staw my rose,
But ah! He left the thorn wi' me.

A close friend's leaving

After the Burns Supper last night, with the tunes of Auld Lang Syne still ringing in my ears, I saw Masood off this morning.

He's my flatmate at Cooperage Place. The eldest son of an Iranian physician, Mas has been studying dentistry for 3 years at Glasgow. I guess he doesn't like here too much, as he had told me he was quite satisfied with the curriculum here. And after Christmas he told me he had applied for a transfer of study to Sheffield. I was a bit surprised, as I thought that was a bit too remote. He told me that Sheffield is closer to his home at Doncaster, and he could see his family, and his girl friend Victoria, more often. Moreover, Sheffied is glad to take him on, although this is already the second week into the second semester.

Mas had his car fully filled with his stuff. I saw him dismantle his bicycle, which had already taken up almost the entire back seat of his red sedan. The trunk was full of his dentistry textbooks, cookery items, TV set and clothings. On his passenger seat, there were so many other miscellaneous stuff that it reminded me of the trip that I took at Lancaster when I joined another flatmate to visit Paul, yet another Lancaster flatmate from Liverpool, after the term end. The car was full of our stuffs and it was so heavily loaded that it could only run at an agonizing speed on M6. We were soon stopped by a traffic policeman. I guessed he either suspected that we were thugs having stolen a full carload of booty, or he was very annoyed at our slow speed on a highway. I could still remember my flatmate driver (eeeek! I forgot his name now) explaining to the Boby:

"Well, officer, I'm just a poor student and this is a used car. It isn't a Ferrari and is carrying two adult students' stuff. It can't run fast and if we can arrive Liverpool safely before sunset that's already a blessing for us. "

As Mas had finished filling his stuffs in, I asked him to take a photo with me in front of the gate. He gladly agreed. And I got the moment freezed in my digital camera. When I watched the photo on my laptop later on, I realised a good friend of mine was leaving here but I looked forward to seeing a successful Midland dentist in years further down the road.

Burns supper

Tonight I went to the Burns Supper held at Turnbull Hall, the Catholic Chaplaincy of my university. It was the first time I attended the Burns Supper, though it's been the third year I've come to learn about it in Scotland. I vaguely know that there's a specialty food -- the Haggis -- to be served in such supper, which Graeme, my former Scottish flatmate at Kelvinhaugh Gate, had introduced to me long time ago.

I wasn't all that fancied about Haggis. It's made of lamb's intestine, mixed with onions and to be served with mashed potato and turnip. But it's a specialty food only availabe during Burns Supper night, so I decided to give a try and buy the dinner ticket for 5 quid. Turning up at the Chaplincy centre at about 7:30 pm, I at once regretted my decision -- it was a rather formal dinner with all tables set, fully decorated with candles and flowers and I was probably the only guy that was in the wrong dress code, wearing jeans and trainers rather than shirts, tie, or kilts. The worst thing was: I knew nobody there.

I had expected to meet some international students, probably some from Hong Kong, Taiwan, mainland China; maybe some ethnic Chinese from Singapore, Malaysia; or even some Koreans or Japanese students. I was utterly disappointed. I was the only Asian face there.

The thought of leaving, after taking a glass of sherry at the reception bar, had crossed my mind. I had been in such an awkward situation before, knowing nobody in a social environment and tried to mingle with many a foreigners who didn't seem to care to notice a Chinese face on the outskirts of their social circles.

While I was pondering when to take my leave, a staff at the Chaplaincy Centre approached me. "Are you expecting somebody in particular or are you just looking for a seat at a table?" he asked.
"Well, I was wondering whether there's a chance I could take a seat somewhere..." I muddled through some impromptu excuses, trying to hide my uneasiness.
"You're welcome to take a seat anywhere except the head table. If you're just by your self, you could say join that table with those two gentlemen there. " The staff pointed at a table at the far end of the dining hall. "All the seats there are all available."
"Thank you," I looked at the two guests there. They were about fiftyish. One of them was wearing a kilt. They seemed to be knowing each other well and were engaged in a deep conversation.

I mustered enough courage to walk up to them, with my glass of sherry in hand. "Excuse me, is this seat taken?" I asked the old gentleman in kilt, who was sitting at the long end of the table.

"No, " said he. "Please take a seat."
So I joined in, decided to intrude into their social circle.
This old gentleman's accent was rather easy to catch, but his friend 's-- who's sitting across the table -- was unbearable. I could hardly understand 1/3 of what he said all over the meal.

Anyway, I was determined to enjoy the supper no matter what happened. Afterall, I'd paid 5 quid and I surely felt as an equal as any one of them.

The Burns Supper usually followed a specific programme. First of all, there would be a windpiper playing Scottish tunes accompanying the entry of the Haggis, which was followed by a recital of a poem written by Robert Burns in praise of the Haggis. During the entire course of the supper, there were songs, poem recitals, speeches and toasts to the lads and lassies. The speeches had to be in praise of the opposite sex by each of the male and female presenters, but were also required to be a bit ironical. I quite liked the lad's speech which included some ironies about the gentle sex:

Q: Why has the computer got to be female?
A: Because after you've got one, the next minute you'd realise there's a more seductive and highly desirable one becoming available.
A: You can never understand how their internal thinking logic works and yet they can communicate with each other trouble-free.
A: Once you have got one at home, you'd incur ten times as much expenses in the accessories.

The music group played some songs, and a recital of Robert Burns's poems followed. Again some Scottish songs were played, some of them were related to Bonnie Charlie, the beloved Scottish King who almost dethroned the English monarchy.

At the end of the supper, all the guests joined hand in hand in a circle and sang this famous song by Robert Burns, the Auld Lang Syne:

"Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o' lang syne?

(Chorus)

For auld lang syne my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne. "

I could remember the first verse and the chorus alright, but the other verses escaped my memory. Fortunately, the organiser had provided lyrics on each table so I could barely followed with the other 3 verses:

" We twa ha'e run aboot the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine.
But we've wander'd monie a weary fit,
Sin' auld lang syne.

We twa ha'e paidl'd in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine.
But seas between us braid ha'e roar'd,
Sin' auld lang syne.

And here's a hand my trusty fiere,
And gie's a hand o' thine.
And we'll tak' a right guid-willie waught,
For auld lang syne."

This is truly a universal song, the melody simple but memorable, the mood highly touching. As all the dinner participants sang along, all of us crossed arms in a chain and we stepped forward and backward in unison. One could feel the friendship flowing from one's hand to another's and the bonding was so palpable that one could hardly wish to break the chain. Of course, if your neighbours are some handsome lassies, it would be the last thing on earth to let go your grip and you surely treasure every minute of it!