The Long Journey From B. to C.: A Migrant's Story by Werner Schmidlin

Author:Werner Schmidlin [Schmidlin, Werner]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Joshua Books
Published: 2019-10-15T18:30:00+00:00

My First Visit to an Australian Dentist

I had a toothache and, being a stranger to Coffs Harbour, I had no idea which dentist I should see. I asked the boss and the neighbours which dentist they would recommend, and three different names came up. I thought that their dentists may not necessarily be compatible with what I looked for in a dentist, like being friendly, that your teeth are of his utmost concern, and taking a personal interest in each of their patients, etc, as I was used to in Germany. So, I had this notion to go through the Yellow Pages and perhaps find a German name amongst the dentists, and select that one in the hope for pot-luck that he possessed the same values as a 'German Dentist.' Luck was on my side; I found one with the German-looking name of Bauman, and from the phone in the packing shed I made the appointment.

When I arrived at the dentist, a beautiful girl in an immaculate white dress greeted me. She asked me the usual pertinent questions and wrote my answers down, then told me to sit down until she called me. I was really pleased with myself: not only had I found a dentist with a German name, but also picked one who happened to be a beautiful lady, so all the nervousness and tension dissipated. The lady dentist then went into the other room, and after a while a patient came out, paid her, and then she went back into the other room again. A short time later I was called in and asked to sit in the dentist’s chair, then she went back to the waiting room, and I thought, "As in Germany, she is the dentist as well as the receptionist." Suddenly from nowhere a huge man appeared, wearing a knee-length white coat, his arms and body the size of a Sumo Wrestler, and he greeted me with a laconic hello and introduced himself as the dentist. I could feel all my blood train to my feet, and experienced an awful sinking feeling. I had been conned, I thought. They put a nice lady in the waiting room to give the impression that she was the dentist, and then when you are in the dentist chair they spring this big ‘gorilla’ on you.

He wanted to know what my problem was. I nearly forgot about the toothache as the shock of seeing the dentist acted like an instant painkiller, and for a moment he seemed to be my biggest problem, but I managed to say, “Toothache.” I was still too dumbfounded to ponder whether I should bolt, but faster than I could have said tooth, his arm had me in vice-like headlock which would have made any attempt to escape futile. This fellow also had this peculiar habit, unlike German dentists: he wanted to engage me in conversation when I had my mouth open with some of his ‘tools’ in it. After a quick look at

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