To Chinatown!

Immediately after our morning Breast Clinic rounds (and our very last one in Surgery), we headed to Binondo, Manila, home of Manila's Filipino-Chinese community, and for students like us who live on weekly allowance from parents, a haven of good food at reasonably affordable prices.



Marvyn Chan, whose family owns a couple of stores in the area, served as our tour guide. He knows the place like the back of his hand. He took us to his mother's grocery shop. There he met a family friend who asked her blood pressure to be taken. Marv is the going to be the first doctor in his family, and he'll make a great one someday.



These were some interesting stuff we saw in the store. For instance, Kindly Eggs, probably the kindest eggs I've ever seen.



And shabu--the food, not the illegal substance.



Chinatown has a different feel to it, and that's what makes it so interesting.



People speak a different accent. There are different kinds of fruits and preserves and delicacies and specialty shops. But I've only been here a couple of times, a tragedy really, considering it's less than a 30-minute jeep ride from where I live--and that's with the heavy traffic already factored in.





Binondo is a maze of intertwining, narrow streets. I hope people would sell maps to highlight the must-go places.

With Marv at the helm, we marched on.



And on . . .



And on.


Until we got to Buenavidez Street where Waying is. This place serves my favorite dumplings. I prefer to have them steamed.



Pictures of the food we ate are stored in another computer; I'll upload them within the weekend.

The food was too much to handle. The dumplings were heavenly--as usual. 

photo photo photo

But suffice it to say that we were stuffed--and I mean, really full--so much so that we looked like we had ascites.

Over the meal we talked about our most interesting patient encounters. I remember what Ching told me once: it used to be that we only listened with fascination when our superiors talked about their memorable patient encounters, but now . . . now we have stories of our own. I take that to mean we're learning more and more things as we progress through our medical education, that we're meeting more and more patients and learning from them.

To cap the day, we asked the kind waitress to take our picture. Past the blurry portrait are the smiles in our faces. We had a fulfilling, meaningful, and grand three weeks in Surgery. And for that, I am personally grateful.



Praise be to God for His sustaining grace.

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