I’ve been driving a moto about 8 months now and have built up a lot of confidence travelling along with Cambodian traffic. However, one fateful Sunday as I approached an intersection near Central Markets, my western view of road reading lead to an unpleasant result.
I approached the intersection, noticed the 4 wheel drive and thought that it was pausing. “Right” I thought "Time to own my right-of-way and continue across this intersection.” But the 4-wheel drive didn’t pause (though there was a stop sign on his corner). No, cars don’t need to pause because the Cambodian reading of this traffic situation is “I am bigger! I was here first! Stay out of my way!” So as I was confidently travelling into the intersection the 4 wheel drive clipped my front wheel, sending my bike off and back to the left and causing me to fly off to the right. I came down, the car stopped.
Unfortunately of all the places that it stopped it was on my right foot! I regained some form of composure, as my body registered where I was, and hit the side of the car with my right hand. Using whatever energy I had left, I cried “Get off my foot!” The driver obliged and I grabbed my right leg, withdrew the remains of my flip flop, that had been broken in half under the weight of the car, pulled my leg across my body and cried out “Owie!”
By this time I had collected a crowd as I sat in the middle of the road. This is when God’s provisions and protection started to flow (though I believe it was even present before hand as the accident could have been far worse). Two Australian girls, who were passing that way, heard the commotion and came over to sit with me in my time of pain. It still brings tears to my eyes just thinking about how grateful I was for these two strangers. As I tried to regulate my breathing and minimise the pain, they got down in the dirt of that road, stroking my shoulder and offering comfort in my distress.
I knew I needed to contact a Khmer friend to assist me with this situation so I pulled out my phone and called Thida, my amazing friend who has an awesome heart and I would trust her with my life. I wasn’t very articulate with my message but knew she would be there as soon as possible.
Then there was the next step, getting myself off the road. My two Aussie assistances, along with a caring Cambodian helped me hop to the side of the road where (again a total God provision) a bench convenently sat. The police arrived and drew outlines around the vehicals and an English speaking Cambodian started assisting with the communication between myself and the driver, who was on the other side of the road. He reassured me that the driver was a fault and that I should ask for money for my moto and injuries (however the driver didn’t see things the same way so we just decided to go our separate ways. Thankfully my insurance covers my medical expenses). One lady offered my tiger balm, which I politely refused. Yet another provision was that I had crashed near a bunch of pharmacies so I was offered medication, which I also politely refused, but I was able to muster up enough Khmer to get a cold battle of water.
The people around me were so kind and considerate. Of course they were intrigued but they kept a respectable distance. I was able to contact a few friends to let them know what happened and to start the chain of prayer. One was available to take me to the hospital so I took her up on that offer.
While I waited two dear older ladies, dressed in white wearing broaches of the King’s Father’s picture and a black ribbon, came along with a first aid kit and started pouring cleaning solution on my dirty and bleeding foot. (I was later told they were buddhist nuns.) I cried as the place a temporary bandage around my foot and ankle to hinder the bleeding. Understand the blessing that they were giving me but it didn’t stop it hurting any less.
At the hospital x-rays were taken of the section of my foot that was run over by the car and revealed no breaks, what a miracle that was! The abrasion to the bottom of my food was deep and painful, but thankful didn’t require any stitches.
It was suggested that I stay the night in hospital, but my stubborn self felt strong enough to go home. So I paid my bill, was assisted to crawl into a tuk tuk and made the journey back to my place armed with painkillers and a strong resolve to beat this challenging day.
I am so thankful for God’s protection though out all this, believing that He has perfect plan and was actively working in all these circumstances. That’s why I can look back on this with a grateful heart, knowing with complete assurance that He loves and was taking care of me.
