So even though I'm exhausted and should be either (1) sleeping, (2) working on my presentation, or (3) working on another post about my research, I thought I'd write the more reflective (part 1) and entertaining (part 2) entries first -- you choose which you want to read :)
It's fitting that today is the day I should have received an email asking me all the important probing questions about my experience here -- what do I like most, what do I like least, what do I miss and not miss from the US, how this experience is changing me...
I guess I owe all of you some answers. What do I miss most? people. friends. my family. the news, but actually it's very easy to not know, and not need to know, about the world outside of Moshi. And I'll admit, a good shower with water pressure. (yes, it's high time I make a Seinfeld reference, but the elephant showerhead would be amazing right now).
I don't really miss the food, the daily life, medical school -- although I think that's because I can be in the OR as often as I want and I attend ob/gyn morning report daily, where there's always some crazy story -- like today's 18-year old new mom with purposeful organophosphate (ie, pesticide) poisoning, or the ovotestes, which I sadly missed. Yeah, lots to always "Why don't you look that up and tell us tomorrow?," except I end up just making a list for myself because no one else cares :)
What do I not miss? It's hard to express -- I don't miss the superficiality. People here are so genuine - you'd think they'd get karibu'ed (karibu=welcome) out because they say it so much, but no, they mean it every time!! When I was at Duke for training, I shared an apartment for literally 36 hrs with 2 labor ward nurses from KCMC. We only saw each other twice because they were up at 5am (gotta love OB!!). Yesterday when they saw me, both of them yelled "Malavika!" down the hallway and gave me a hug and welcomed me to their country -- even though they were the ones who had just returned from a long journey!! Maybe that would happen in the US, but I don't know... at least it wouldn't be common.
What do I like most? That I have time to think about my life, my work, my world, how I hope this experience shapes me. That I'm happy here. That despite the occasional frustration of the (daily) power outages exactly when you want to watch a movie, or make dinner, it reminds you what life is about -- that even when there is absolutely nothing else in the world to do, there is always someone to talk to, to get to know better. That I like my self-sufficient lifestyle -- chickens making my eggs, trees making my avocados and bananas, veggies making my carrots and beans and lettuce and onions... I'm radically changing my previously held views of never having a garden!! That, believe it or not, I don't actually need the Internet (even though I do kind of miss the instant gratification of looking stuff up -- like all those Michael Jackson questions we have!! :) ). That I get to see and participate in the clinical side of things and constantly devise and revise ideas for projects to actually address important problems and useful questions that will make a difference in patients' lives.
(here's a picture of the hospital courtyard -- note all the colorful kangas!)What do I like least? That's easy. The sadness I encounter daily. That patients die here from causes that could treated so readily in the US. Simple things, like only 1 ventilator in the ICU, or no blood in the blood bank, or not enough staff to take care of patients, or no access to the curative medication, or that the ER is only 4 beds so everyone else waits on a stretcher outside. Oh, what's a stretcher made of, by the way? 2 wooden poles with some tarp in between, laid on some rolling contraption about waist height.
ok, I took a picture after all -- the little door is the way into casualty, which has the 4 ER beds. it's a daily occurrence that overflow patients, even really sick ones, just wait in the lobby
ok, I took a picture after all -- the little door is the way into casualty, which has the 4 ER beds. it's a daily occurrence that overflow patients, even really sick ones, just wait in the lobby
I've only been here for a month and already it makes you want to cry and scream at the same time. I don't know how the Tanzanian and the American doctors deal with it -- how much can you wall off your emotional response to these pitiful situations? That look of tragedy in so many women's eyes is heart-wrenching. I'll spare you the details, except to say that nothing is worse than a mother laboring to deliver a dead baby. Something about that just elicits a visceral reaction in me every time.
the OB ward. 5 beds fit in this room. more pictures of the other rooms soon...On a personal life level, I hate that I don't speak Swahili yet, really. I can obviously say a few things, but I can't wait for my 3 week intensive course. Otherwise, the food is not my favorite so far -- at least in Moshi, though mostly I've been eating non-Tanzanian food (well, they also realllly like meat) -- but some good rice and beans can't be beat :)
So, those are my deep thoughts. I'm sure I'll be glad to see familiar faces and things when I leave, but I also can tell I'll be very sad to say goodbye to Moshi. It's a great place -- come visit!
(the back of the hospital, where I come in from every day...)
Very nice and reflective post. (I think everyone should make time to reflect more often.) I'm sure the time will fly by, but at least you'll remember it for a lifetime. I'm still catching up from my vacation backlog--2 more posts to go.
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