China. It’s not as far away from the US as the sixteen-hour flight from Atlanta suggests. I found the people to be warm and courteous, interested and open-minded and eager to learn from their western counterpart. Perhaps most importantly, I discovered that the special bond between pets and people knows no geographical or cultural boundaries.
I arrived in Shanghai after over twenty-one hours of travel. I took the Magnetic Train, the world’s fastest train, from the airport at Pudong to Shanghai. It was an amazing experience to travel on a cushion of air at over 260-miles per hour. The sensation of heeling (leaning over) at that speed was something I’ve never encountered in all my years of ocean boating.
Because my flight from the US was delayed (imagine that!), I arrived with only thirty minutes to spare before my first meeting with the president of the Shanghai Veterinary Medical Association, Dr. Chen. After a quick shower and shave and change of clothes, I was escorted by a colleague from the Netherlands I’d met while presenting at a veterinary meeting in Austria last year, Karin Jaeger. She was there to record and observe my visit and learn about small animal veterinary practice in mainland China We were accompanied by my translator and fellow veterinarian, Dr. Zilong Tan. Dr. Tan worked for Schering-Plough/Intervet who was co-sponsoring my trip. He proved to be a truly compassionate and intelligent human being with a deep love of veterinary medicine. We quickly became friends and will remain in touch for many years to come.
We zigzagged through crowded downtown Shanghai until we arrived at Dr. Chen’s veterinary practice. The first thing I noticed was his warm smile and confident handshake. I sensed that this was a man in charge of his destiny and passionate about his work before a single word was exchanged. He spoke very little English; however, we were able to communicate easily and naturally because of our shared short-hand of veterinary medicine and surgery.
Dr. Chen gave me a tour of his practice. Humble by the standards of a practice in the United States, it was one of the more respected practices in Shanghai. I saw many dogs and cats being capably cared for by team members who exuded passion for their work. There were many cases of parvoviral enteritis, distemper and a variety of trauma cases. I was able to offer advice on treatment modalities and was honored to be asked for my diagnosis on several cases as we travelled throughout China.
Of particular note was the lack of interest or belief in in traditional Chinese medicine displayed by both veterinarians and human physicians. I have a keen interest in alternative therapies, especially herbal and nutritional supplementation and meditation. I found that most Chinese veterinarians could not fathom why in the world I would want to understand their old ways. I had intended to participate in a pre-dawn Tai Chi in one of Shanghai’s public parks. I was told by one of my younger colleagues that there weren’t many places that held Tai Chi and that the practice was mainly for “old, retired people.” I guess we’ve romanticized China in many ways and I hope that these ancient ways aren’t lost as modernization and progress bulldoze the countryside. I believe, as Dr. Tan does, that the interest in traditional Chinese medicine will return and what remains will be the best of both eastern and western medicine. I shared with Zilong that this was my current approach and I was relieved to hear that he felt the same.
After spending approximately two hours meeting with Dr. Chen and discussing the challenges of veterinary practice in Shanghai, we were off to dinner. As a vegetarian, I reveled in the outstanding choices of tofu, noodle, vegetable and rice dishes offered everywhere I ate. One of my more memorable experiences occurred at a small restaurant where I met two young ladies in their mid-twenties dining with their Maltese. One of the young ladies spoke in excellent English. Since she spoke English so well, I asked her if she had studied abroad. To my surprise, she answered that she’d never left mainland China. She was completely self-taught though CD’s and books! She added that English was a good skill to have and helped in her job. We talked about her dog and how people felt toward dogs and cats in her country. Her answers reaffirmed the experiences I’ve had travelling and speaking about veterinary medicine around the world: It’s not where we are; it’s who we are. In other words, people are hard-wired to bond in special ways with dogs, cats and horses. The love I have for my dogs and cats is the same as the love people in India, Japan, Germany, Brazil and downtown Shanghai have for their pet family members. The young lady further explained that she thought the younger Chinese had much more value for dogs and cats than the previous two or three generations. I witnessed this firsthand as the majority of clients I saw in the veterinary clinics were my age (41) and younger. She also said that with the one-child-per-family policy, older parents were starting to get dogs and cats after their child grew up and left home. It seems as though the “empty-nest syndrome” also knows no boundaries!
The next morning I set off for the Ministry of Science Building for my eight hours of lectures. The meeting had to be moved to the “old” building because of the larger-than-expected attendance. In total, we had over 130 veterinarians travel from as far away as 500 miles to learn about improving their level of general veterinary practice. It was an incredible day. I was humbled by the eagerness and hunger for knowledge the veterinarians exhibited. We had so many questions at the end of eight hours that the moderator finally had to stop them so we could attend the reception! The questions were nearly identical to American and European audiences: What is your recommended vaccination protocol? What anesthetic agents do you use and why? How do you get clients to provide better care for their pets? How do you motivate your staff? How do you train your staff? I was surprised at just how similar veterinarians are regardless of their country, level of expertise or equipment.
The dinner reception was another experience entirely. I had my picture taken with approximately every single veterinarian in attendance! I felt like a rock-star; it was surreal. I was blessed to have connected with the attendees in a meaningful manner. One of the more humorous things happened at that meeting. After I arrived, I began to go around the room to visit the twelve or so tables with about ten doctors each. I would approach the table with a “Ni hao” (hello) and proceed to thank them in poor Chinese. As I talked to the first table, one of the doctors thrust a glass of beer in my hand and exclaimed some sort of toast. Fair enough, I thought, and I took a drink from the glass. I smiled and noticed that everyone had finished their glass of beer – except me. I was met with the awkward stare of ten veterinarians whom I’d just inadvertently offended. The leader of the table quickly refilled everyone’s glass except mien and repeated the toast. This time I caught on and drained my glass. I was panicked! I had at least eleven more tables to go and I’m not much of a drinker! Zilong sensed my anxiety and rushed to my salvation. He gave me a small bottle of beer and even smaller glass and instructed me to fill my own glass with an ounce or two and use that to complete the toast. With Dr. Tan’s helpful advice, I was able to get through the entire night on two bottles of beer.
My entire trip was a truly remarkable and unforgettable experience. I was deeply honored to be invited to share my message of veterinary medicine to such eager veterinarians. I hope to return soon and continue to develop the many relationships I began. Thank you to everyone who made these Hong Kong and Shanghai lectures a success.