Job satisfaction

It's now Friday, and I have still not yet officially started my job!  It's not because I'm lazy, it's because I have not yet met with Dr Ram, Dr Koju or Dr Biraj yet, who essentially run the hospital and are my bosses.  As mentioned before, the post I am taking here is completely new and I will be the first person to take up the job as Press and Communications Officer here, so the job description is still up in the air.
One thing I've learned about Nepal is that people don't panic here.  Ever.  That's OK, but it is pretty hard for a Brit to get out of the mindset of having mini nervous breakdowns throughout the working day.  I have my contract, but nobody's asked me to start my job yet; I was meant to meet with Dr Biraj today, but he is immensely busy as it's exam period at Kathmandu University at the minute.  Zero stress for everyone involved... except me.
I would advise anyone coming to start a new job here to get a word-perfect contract and ask all the questions before you arrive.  This is not due to trust issues, as far as I've experienced, everyone I've met has been hugely helpful and immensely kind; this is just to cover basics such as holidays, holiday pay, visas, penalty for contract terminations and all the other fine print.
Otherwise, my stay has been reasonable.  Everyone working at the hospital speaks English, but I would not recommend anyone rely on this, as outside of the hospital, everyone will speak either Nevari or Nepali.  I can't quite shop on my own yet, I don't even know where to buy toilet roll from, but I hope that in time I'll learn all these skills plus a little more.  Bit by bit my life's coming together, but I think it will be a slow process.  Last night, my internet went down again at my flat.  It's very easy to feel isolated without it, and I have taken it for granted so much in the past.  It is my only connection to home.  My neighbour, who I met for the first time tried to help me connect to another server, but his was down too.  He is the first person who lives in my flats permanently who speaks English, and he is the chief Radiologist at Dhulikhel Hospital.
In a bizarre way, I feel like I am learning more about my friends' professional lives here than I have learned back at home.  I have friends who are doctors, midwives, radiographers, and physiotherapists but normally when they try to tell me about their jobs, my brain can't process their technical terminology.
I began my medical schooling yesterday, when C took me around OT, Paediatrics, and ICU.  Dhulikhel Hospital is an "autonomous" hospital, and receives funding from various donors, but due to lack of funding in particular areas patients are required to pay for treatment.  The cost?  £1.50 a day for overnight stays.  While living costs are generally low here, £1.50 would only buy you half a meal in Kathmandu.  At Dhulikhel Hospital, you receive medical care, three meals a day, and a bed.  Consultation and registration costs just 15 pence.
Obviously with living costs being lower, the hospital standards here cannot be the same as in the UK.  One difference which struck me on my orientation yesterday was that I was allowed anywhere I wanted to go.  I witnessed three operations, and all I needed to do was scrub up.  I'm not quite sure what the rules are in hospitals back home for press officers, but there would probably be some red tape involved.  The second thing which struck me about the hospital here was how minimalistic it is.  The OT doesn't have tangles of wires jutting out of the walls like I've seen in episodes of E.R. or Casualty.  There is no clinical white light bathing the surgeons and nurses in an ethereal, angelic manner, just sunlight, a headlamp, and a bare light bulb.  And this is how surgery is performed every day here, day in day out.
After seeing enough blood to call it a day, I followed C and P into the "restroom" where surgeons, anaesthetists and nurses retire for coffee breaks between operations.  Every one I spoke to loved their job.  Yes, it is long hours, yes, it is intense, but most of them had worked at Dhulikhel for over five years, one anaesthetist I spoke to was going into his eighth year at the hospital.  I have also never seen such pride in a person's weary eyes when they speak of their jobs.
Today I was invited to observe the Ultrasound Department by my neighbour S the Radiologist.  One of my friends from home has spoken to me about training to move into the Ultrasound Department, and had mentioned to me how hard it is to peer at tiny flickers of light on a screen while trying to control your hand movements on someone's abdomen - today I truly appreciated her words.  S works from 7:30 in the morning, and does not get to go home until 10 in the evening most days.  When he is on call, he is expected to rouse himself whatever time it may be and jump back on his motorcycle to work.  He too has been working at the hospital for over five years, and intends to go back to studying this year to "upgrade his degree" at the hospital.  If he successfully completes it, he will be the most qualified Radiologist working in Ultrasound in the whole of Nepal.
Over the past two days, I have witnessed more in the medical world than I have my entire life back home.  I somewhat naively fell into this job here knowing absolutely nothing about the medical world, thinking I could learn the basics as I went along.  In the past two days alone, I have met people who have devoted their entire lives quite literally to medicine and helping people.  They work hard and barely reap the rewards for their knowledge and expertise in their area.
I have not heard one word uttered in complaint against their lifestyle however, and I am quite sure if they were to choose how to live their lives again, they would choose no different.  The staff at Dhulikhel Hospital have given themselves entirely to their jobs, and it has been the most important lesson I've learned so far - if you love something enough, the rewards don't have to be obvious.