We observed the "jubilee" on the second day of our visit. Dozens of patients and their relatives sang and clapped in unison at the behest of Maidee Tongnengyang, a Laotian medical worker for the foundation who always exuded great energy.

Swept away by the contagious elation, I joined in with the merry scene, clapping along to the chorus, despite my ignorance of the lyrics and the song's cultural relevance. However, that seemed irrelevant as collective happiness born out of people-to-people bonds dwarfed linguistic barriers and cultural differences. While I could contribute nothing to their choir, I counted myself lucky to be adding my fair share of zeal.

A couple of senior patients who shared a sprightly streak offered to sketch my portrait. While the results turned out to be unnamable creatures from some probably unknown planets and prompted bursts of laughter, their attempts testified to their improved eyesight after surgery.

For Wei, who had left behind his responsibilities at hospitals in Guangxi's Liuzhou for two months to devote his time to the charitable cause, the journey was "absolutely worthwhile".

What he had done was a nod to the saying, "If you teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime."

"Providing free surgery is not a sustainable answer for Laos, where cataract blindness is rife, while delivering on-site training for local doctors is (sustainable)," he said.

After taking Wei's advice, a Laotian doctor quickly got the hang of the procedure and has since become a sought-after practitioner.