I have, I have!  Don’t worry, you only get the “sleeping sickness” (Tryptanosomiasis) if you’ve been bit over and over with lots of exposure.  My one little bite won’t make it happen, but that being said, it was a bugger.

Yeah, that’s my blood in his belly!  Just kidding. My fly flew away too fast.  But he looked like this.  I met this little fellow on our incredible weekend.  We have our weekends free, and Genie and Mary Ann talked me into a safari to Ngorogoro Crater.  I must say one of the most fantastic places I have ever been.

If there is anyone interested in Geology, Tanzania is the place for you.  I can’t believe the diversity of this country, what it keeps giving!  Not only the interesting cities, people, and history, it has the biggest National Game Reserves in the world.  And Ngorogoro, IMHO now, takes them all.

But first of all, Tanzania is part of the Rift Valley.  I was an ignoramus, and didn’t know anything about it.  It is the biggest valley in the world, starting in Turkey, going all the way to Madagascar.  It was created when two gigantic tetonic plates crashed against each other.    I guess it is amazing seen from space.  Or even google maps for us non-astronaut type people.

But the best part is the Ngorogoro Crater.

 See the crater wall?

The biggest Crater in the world.  A volcano which blew it’s top millennium ago, and left behind this most fertile savannah land.  It is home to the best place to see wild African animals in the world.

And just getting there is part of the fun.  It’s only 2 hours out of Arushu, but getting there you pass Masai village after village, and then you start to climb up to the craters rim.

At first it’s coffee plantations.  Then it turns into wild Tarzan Jungle.  Monkeys swinging through the trees!  You finally get to the top and lo and behold!!!  You are on the rim!  You’ve found what God must have felt when he created the Garden of Eden.  All God’s African animals live here.   You do have to descend down into the crater, again passing Masai village after village, (and in our case, several baboon troops)  But you immediately see animals after animals.  And they all seem to be co-existing in peaceful harmony.

In what appears to be the peaceable kingdom, you see zebras, hyenas, lions, wildebeast, buffalo, Ostrich, elephant, and even many many more critters grazing and walking about side by side.  You may see a zebra’s ears and eyes turn towards the hyena as it walks by, but them it goes bak to peacefully grazing.  Amazing!      I will let the rest of the pictures speak for themselves.

Elephants on parade.  See the little baby.

Isn’t this lioness beautiful?

There were beautiful yellow and purple wildflowers in the crater, and this is what she would hide in to approach her prey so stealthily.

And yes!  I’m sure the peaceable kingdom image dissolve when she gets hungry.

And the female must have his mate. Isn’t his mane gorgeous?

The other predator in the park:  The hyena.  Our guide told us the hyena is much maligned.

They are really very smart, have a matriarchal society, and really care for their young.

But this is my favorite.  

You’d think I’d get enough of babies at the hospital, but nope!  I love animal babies too!

I really loved the hippos too.  You’d think the lion is the most dangerous animal in the crater.  

But, no, the not-so-innocent hippo is.  Not that he is a carnivore, but when disturbed he has a very short temper and can gore a man to death in minutes.   That sweet face doesn’t look like it can do any harm, does it?

I have many more beautiful pictures, but these are my favorites.  We saw everything in this incredible crater.  If anyone want to see a living zoo, that isn’t a zoo, but real African animals living in the wild, this is it!

Our day was long and beautiful, but it had to come to an end.  We headed back into town, and reality hit once more.  I have to say, it again re-awakened my eyes coming back into town.  The poverty.  The dirt.  The mass of humanity trying to survive.  It was dark and the town was humming.  I haven’t been out at night before, and won’t again.  We were safe with our guide, but it is striking the dichotomy of this fascinating country.  On one hand the most beautiful conservation in the world.  On the other hand, people struggling in a very compromised city.   When we came into town, sirens were blasting everywhere too.  I guess a political rally was under way.  We have been warned to stay far away from them.  Our guide quickly took us around it, and the literally teem hoards of people.

A provoking thought:  I found it interesting as we went into the park how things changed.  It became clean, organized, well maintained.  But – as I took pictures climbing up the mountain and passing a Masai village, there were some handsome Masai youths walking along the road.  I asked if I could take their picture.  They smilingly agreed.  But before I got back into the van, their hands were out, asking for money.  They were very disgruntled when I just gave them the change I happened to have in my pocket.  They kept asking for more.

The full week I’ve been living in Arusha I’ve never been approached by a beggar, or even someone wanting to be paid for a picture.   I wonder if a study could be done by the influence of “Westernization”, and the increase of tourism, how it actually influences the indigenous people.  And can one be had without the other.  Could be a really interesting study.

My Tsetse fly bite hurts.  Left a big welt.  MaryAnn, my co-volunteer, tells me it will hurt and ache for the next couple weeks.  It’s right in the tender underarm triceps area.  Owww!  But, I just laugh and say it is my “badge of honor” for visiting Ngorogoro and I can say I have really left my life’s blood in this country.  This amazing, amazing, incredibly diverse country.  But, truthfully, as I will head back to my work, tomorrow and all my mamas and watato, I think I know where my heart will Kweli Kweli (really really) be.    Right here in Arusha.  In this troubled, difficult, dirty, but loving and truly hopeful place.    “Tutamiani bodo lipo.”   There is always hope.

Thursday May 25th – People have been asking how the donations I brought have been received.   Here is the answer, and I do wish I could make this post short and bouncy, but it just isn’t a subject that I can do that with.  And its quite long.  I don’t know how to leave anything out.  It’s all too impactful.  At least to me.

Nielson, our sponsor here, had told me when I first got here, to wait until I was situated at the hospital before I brought in my suitcases full of donated items, to know who to trust to give them to.  You know, this is a country that is challenged with a desperate need for high demand medical supplies, and things are sold on the black market all the time.  I guess that’s one reason it was so tough for me getting through customs when I landed at the Kilamanjaro Airport.

Here in Tanzania all medical supplies needed by patients at the hospital have to be provided by the patients and/or their families.    They either have to buy them at the hospital pharmacy, or go to the local pharmacies scattered around town.  These “pharmacies” are everywhere!  Little hole-in-wall type places.  They are called “Daku la Damu” (Medicine store) and there is one or two on every block.

The only medications or medical supplies that are provided free of charge by the hospital are things related to HIV.  Also all vaccines and malaria prevention are supposedly supplied by the government.  That means everything, from sheets and blankets for the beds, to food or drink for the patients are supplied by the patients.  Even the pregnant women are instructed what to bring in their “delivery bag” when they come to the hospital to have their babies.  This is everything you can imagine that a laboring mom and the people helping her will need.  This includes even the gloves the staff will use when delivering the babies.  Can you imagine?

So, I decided today was the day to bring in my suitcases.  I already feel so close to Alodia and trust her implicitly.  I had brought in just one box of gloves for us to use the day before.   They are such a higher quality than the gloves we had been using, and we had been using  the original gloves so sparingly at that.  Not something you want to do when you are dealing with blood and a population of people with a high percentage of HIV.  But, Alodia loved these gloves!  They are bright purple, and she kept exclaiming over them.  People here do love, love, love their bright colors on everything!

This is how we wash our hands in our exam room.  Imagine no running water nor electricity.

I told Alodia I had many more boxes back “at home” meaning the volunteer house.  She misunderstood me and thought I meant “Amerika”.  When I told here, “No, here in Arusha” she looked at me with disbelief.  I said I had brought them to Arusha, on purpose, for the hospital.   I said I had “Cases, and in the cases were boxes and boxes of gloves.” She just shook her head with confusion.  I told her I had other things too, such as gowns, wound care items, bandage scissors, thermometers, insulin needles, plastic tubings, pre-filled saline syringes, etc.  When I said gowns, she thought I meant gowns, like evening gowns.   When I tried to explain, she didn’t quite get it.  It was really cute.  Things so totally got lost in translation.  I told her I had 3 fifty pound bags of supplies.  150 pounds all together.  She put her head in her arms and cried.

I told her I would bring them in the next day.  She still just kept shaking her head like she didn’t quite get it.  She was still doing that as I left her to go home for the day.  I just smiled and told her, “Tutuanana kesho!”  (See you tomorrow)

I had Nielson drive me to work today to bring in the suitcases.  I rolled them into the waiting room of our little ward.  Alodia gasped with surprise when she saw me.  She said, “I had such a bad dream last night.  I dreamed that I had imagined that you said you had things like this, but this is real, isn’t it?”

She then took my hand, and led me outside.  She led through the back yard of this simple hospital to an even simpler structure.  She asked me, “do you know what this is?” Of course I didn’t.   She then took me inside.  It turned out it was the hospital store room.  It was a fairly big room lined with shelves.  Shelf after shelf.  All neatly labeled.  And all these shelves mostly empty.  She showed me the shelf where the medications and supplies were supposed to be kept for the pregnant women.  There were only 1 or 2 items that were sitting there on this mainly bare shelf.  I noticed the place marked “folic acid”.  This is what pregnant women need to take to prevent spina bifida and hydrocephalus.  It was empty.   And again, so were most all the other shelves as I looked all around.  Empty.   I looked at Alodia.  She just shrugged.  But it was the shrug of a battle-hardened fighter.

She then took me, stilling holding my hand, to the director’s office, weaving our way through all the corridors and people.  She knocked on his door, burst in his room, and announced that I had brought 3 suitcases full of donated supplies.  He raised his head and looked up from his desk and looked at me in shock.  He got up and  followed us back to Alodia’s exam room where we had stacked the suitcases.   We pulled down the bulging suitcases and began to open them one by one.

Um, I don’t know what to say here.  I really don’t.  Words truly fail me.  I don’t know how to express the emotions of this time.  This moment in time is one I will never, ever forget.  I  can’t begin to express the look on this man’s face as he began to take out item after item.  It was like he was in shock.  He kept saying to Alodia, “Oh!  we can use this for ….,  and then he would take out another item and said, “Oh! And we can use this for ….!  On and on he went as he took out each item.  There was even a gait belt in one of the bags.  Even the Director of the hospital didn’t know what that was for.  When I explained to both of them what it was used for by pantomime, both he and Alodia started laughing.   He then laughingly said, “Oh! we can use that in Orthopedics!”

Then we finally opened the last bag that was full of the 10 cases of gloves.  Each case has 12 boxes.  Each box has 200 pairs of gloves.  High quality gloves.  Non-latex gloves.  And yes, purple gloves.  He didn’t say anything.  He just bowed his head for several seconds and sighed.

But back to reality!  This day was “new mother day” today.  And we had to get on with it. Thursdays are when we process all the new mom’s.  And we had a waiting room full of expectant moms.  In more ways than one!

And we did have a very long, very busy day.  But very rewarding seeing all the mothers.  I love measuring the bellies and feeling and palpating the new little life inside.   I believe we processed over 100 women today.  We didn’t take time to eat, drink, or even pee.  Wasn’t time.  When I got back to the volunteer house tonight, I don’t think I’ve ever been so tired.  But I felt good.  Really, really good.

A funny little aside:  Doctor Happy later in the day had come to our exam room and insisted I go with him for just a second.  My only break for the day!  It turned out there was a monkey he wanted to show me that was swinging in the Avocado tree outside our little section of the hospital.  As we were watching the antics of the monkey, he turned to me and gave me a big hug and said, “thank you, thank you, thank you”.  I told him “Karibu” (you’re welcome).  At the time I just thought it was really sweet that he said that.  It wasn’t until later, as Alodia and I were cleaning up the exam room after the long day’s rush, and finally had some time for reflection after the busy, busy day that I realized, “huh?  How did he even know?  He hadn’t been anywhere around when the director came and got the suitcases.  I asked Alodia how on earth did he even know?  She looked at me in surprise.  “Why, of course,” she said, “he knew.  The whole hospital knows”.

Just a note:  We ran out of the Malaria tablets about half way through.the day.today.  The Tetanus vaccine is running dangerously low.  I don’t know what we will do tomorrow, just keep ploughing on I guess.   Alodia says we wait and hopefully the mothers will return another time.  Its whenever the government gets around to sending in new supplies, she says.  She doesn’t know when that’ll be.

Funny how I am already so invested in this place.  How does that happen?  These people are already so much in my heart.  Africa is addicting.

What an incredible beginning of the week!  I was able to start work at St. Elizabeth’s and have already experienced and learned so much!  I have done rounds with doctors, oriented to the hospital, and I was literally grabbed and hugged by a needy matron. That’s what they call the head nurse of each ward.

They have what they call “Florence Nightingale Wards” here.  What that is, is a large room with rows of beds in them.  Each bed rusted iron, circa World War II, with mosquito nets.  They have different wards here, Medical ward, Surgical Ward, Maternity Ward, Pediatric Ward, and so on.

just have to say here we are so blessed in our country to have the health care we do.  You really can’t appreciate what we have, until you see what other people don’t have.  The doctors here are dedicated and giving, talented and inspired, but it is a whole different approach to medicine.  Not to say its a worse type of medicine at all, but in all honesty it has been difficult for me not to want to whip out my stethoscope and do a proper assessment.   Things do move at a slower pace here, and I appreciate that.  But it has been a real eye-opener.  I thought I was prepared, but I guess in no way a person can be, until you see things with own eyes and actually experience it, can you really understand what it’s all about.

I’ve met the most wonderful people.  My previously mentioned “needy matron’s”  name is Alodia.  Doesn’t she look like the sweetest kindest lady?  Well, she is.

She runs the mother/baby ward pretty much single-handedly.  This ward does all the prenatal care, then postnatal and baby care.  She is an unbelievably cheerful and hardworking nurse and a woman with a daunting task.

When I was being oriented around the hospital to the different wards by “Doctor Happy”, (that’s what I call him because he is so jolly and friendly,) as we passed through her ward, she grabbed me and told Dr. Happy she wouldn’t let me go, she needed help so desperately.  I did eventually come back to her and so happy that I did.  We make a great team.  She put me immediately to work.   I get to do all the exams on the expecting moms, and get to weigh and assess babies.  Loving it!  Can you imagine anything better than that?

I’ve held more beautiful infants in the last 3 days than would appear on a Huggies advertisement!  And I get to palpate and feel the growing babies in the mother’s belly, make sure they are in right position, etc.  I get to listen to baby’s heartbeats of each momma.  We also have to test for diseases, HIV, Syphilis, TB, Malaria.  We give Tentanus shots, Malaria tablets, and a worming tablet.  But it is a happy place to work.  Pregnant mommies and cuddly babies, can it get better than that?

The exam table in the room I work.

Yes, that is a rubber sheet.  No fancy tissue paper to switch out between each patient.  And don’t freak out, but no running water.  How we wash our hands is in a bucket.  No joke!

I get to work by taking the local transportation called a Dala Dala.  It is a converted van, about the size of our soccer mom vans, but with 3, (yes 3 extra rows) put in.  They crowd people into these like you can’t believe.  My last ride I counted 25 people.  Of course, 3 were babies, one was a chicken, and 2 were boys hanging off the side, but it was an adventure!  These Dala Dalas are as thick as fleas all over the city, and have their routes.  This is how all the people get around.  They have a conductor who hangs out the door and sings out the destination.  If you want on, you whistle, when you want off, you stick your arm out the window and knock on the roof.  It’s great fun!  You do get very close and personal with your seatmates.  One little girl, that was sitting on her momma’s lap next to me, kept touching and petting my hair.  I don’t think she had ever seen straight hair before.  But it actually works really good!

Dala Dalas lined up going to the different neighborhoods.

Some of the typical homes I pass on the way to the Dala Dala.

I take a Dala Dala from our volunteer house, (after walking down our very muddy and dirt churned up lane), then get into town center.   About a 30 minute ride.  I then walk about a half mile to the hospital.

To get to it I have to pass through the Central market.  That’s always an extremely colorful experience too!   

When I was walking back from the hospital yesterday, after a full day with mothers and babies, I stopped to purchase some avocados for dinner.  Genie makes the best guacamole!   It seemed so natural to have a conversation with the stall owner, use the proper schillings.   Walking through the market, everyone is so friendly, calling out, “mambo!”,  I shout back “Sijambo!”  everybody smiling and laughing.  I am the only white woman I have seen here in Tanzania except other volunteers, yet I feel so completely at home.

As I was calling out to a passing Dala Dala, I thought to myself,

“wow”  I am really doing this.  I am in Africa.  This is real.   Gotta pinch myself.

And, oh, by the way, watato means babies.  Dozens and dozens of babies.

Today was an extremely inspirational day.  Genie and I were able to attend the local branch of our church.  So awe-inspiring are these sweet gentle people.

We had a difficult time finding the address, Nielson our sponsor, thankfully drove us there.  We did finally find it next to a small river in a kind of slummy place.  Extremely narrow and horrendously rutted dirt roads, really shouldn’t even call them roads, they should really be called pathways, that is if you had the constitution and ability of a mountain goat!  (And Nielson did bravely drive them!)  Anyway, little tin shacks littering the hillside in a sort of jungle-y area.   The meeting was held in a large tent up the hill from the river.  It was a sort of a windy day, so the flaps of the tent were whooshing back and forth.  And as we had had a hard time finding the church, we were quite late arriving and the meeting had already started.  So this is our entrance.

Picture this:  2 older white ladies walking into this large, white tent as a sea of smiling black faces turns towards them.  The people in the congregation all break out into the most welcoming face-wreathing smiles.   The speaker is speaking in Swahili, but he too flashes us a quick grin.  All the men and boys dressed in white shirts with ties, some a little shabbier than the others, but you could tell they were so proud of themselves.  The women all wore their beautiful brightly colored “kitange” skirts and head dresses.  Several little children, difficult to tell if they are boys or girls, as both boys and girls have shaved heads,(this is a very common practice here) and they are wearing the kitange, stare at us with fascination.  But more beautiful children you have never seen.   After the speaker is done, all people (including us), stand and sing out a favorite church hymn with joy and fervor.  The words are sung in Swahili, but I recognize the tune.  The tent was rocking with song and spirit, especially when it came to the chorus which everyone clearly knew and loved.

Next comes another speaker (who every now and then inserted some words in English,) and more songs with energetic standing singing, then the meeting ends.  We were then swarmed by these lovely people, giving us hugs and kisses, wanting to know our names.  We were quickly “Dada Anna” and “Dada Genie”  (Sister Ann and Sister Genie).  One fellow was a cripple in a clearly hand-me-down suit which was cut off above the knees.  He had on some knee treads and hand treads made out of tires which he could crawl on the ground with.  He was so kind and friendly.  He welcomed us whole-heartedly.

We then went to Sunday School class where I heard the best lesson ever.  The teacher would teach one sentence in Swahili, then repeat it in English, the English clearly for our benefit.  He also asked Genie and me questions, including us and bringing us into the group.   After class they once again surrounded us and were friendly and begging us to return.

I just have to say here:  This is how religion should be. I don’t care what religion you are.  Simple.  Loving.  Accepting.  Welcoming.  Minus all the dressings and added fol-der-ol that we more affluent people seem to like to add.    I heard testimonies this day in class that the teacher had invited people to give.  These testimonies were simple and true, that I will never forget them.  A wonderful, wonderful day,

(Sorry, no pictures.  I didn’t want to invade these sweet people’s privacy, I will take pictures of the outside next week when we go back)

What a wonderful world we live in where we can travel to the other side of the globe in less than 36 hours.  That’s what I kept reminding myself anyway being cramped in a flying tin can for 22+ hours, then battling it out with immigration, then the Department of Health and finally the Department of Finance at the Kilamanjaro airport.

They were not going to allow me to bring in all the wonderful medical supplies I had brought with me.  But finally, after being interrogated in a back office for hours, I broke down sobbing (truly) then all changed.  The kind hearts of these wonderful officials finally changed, they started patting me on the back, telling me, “don’t cry mama Anna” (My new official title here), one guard seriously even wiping a tear off my cheek.  I am not joking!  They finally waived me through.  Tough!  But phew!  Worth it.

Arrived at my volunteer house after another hour drive.    Um, not the Hilton, or even Motel 6.  Let me say, I will learn to be grateful for what I do have: which is a toilet that flushes, water (not hot, nope, sorry) and occasional electricity.  I did bring a mosquito tent, a waffle pad, and my own sheets.  So, I at least have those creature comforts.  This is an Adventure!

My bed with mosquito tent and makeshift closet.

I was awakened early this morning 5am by the Muzzeim’s call to prayer.  Must be a mosque close by.  Really kinda cool.  Also roosters crowing, donkeys hee-hawing, and some weird screaming noise as of yet unindentified.  It was great, I had time to organize myself, very badly needed.  My sister, Geneie had arrived earlier, she is working at a school/orphanage teaching children.  So good to see her.   She had a giant avocado which we slapped on toast and had tea.  As it was Saturday, and I can’t begin work until Monday, she had arranged with our sponsor to take us to a Masai village.  What an experience!  We spent the day with this wonderful group of people.  So friendly and accommodating.  We even saw glimpses of Mt. Kilamanjaro hiding behind the clouds in the background.

Oh, and by the way!  Having so much fun trying out my Swahili on everyone around me.  They laugh at me and my pronounciation must be horrible, but they are so tickled that I have tried to learn the language.  They love teaching it even more to me.  Been so much fun!  But I did learn when you say “Jambo!” (which means Hello), don’t slip and say Jamba!  Because that means you’re passing gas.  Ooops!

Here are the pictures from my first great day in Tanzania:

David, one of our hosts here at our volunteer program, is Masai.  He took us to his village.  The Masai people believe in poligamy.  Each man is to have at the minimum of 10 wives.  Or they are not thought of as a real man.

These are some of David’s brothers.  (He’s not quite sure how many he has, his father has 15 wives)  They sang and did the jumping dance for us.

One of the beautiful Masai children.  Yes, those are flies on her sweet face.  Genie is getting a cloth to wipe them off.

These people are the kindest most welcoming people.   I admire their sense of community so much.  Everyone was smiling and seemed so in tune with each other.  They live such a simple traditional lifestyle which is to be envied.

But there are flies here.

Genie with one of the children in front of some of the huts.  The children ran to us, greeted us with such smiles.  They loved to hold our hands, sit on our laps, or be picked up.  One little sweetie was especially fascinated by my wrist watch.

David then took us to a Masai market on our way back to our volunteer house.  This place was mind boggling.  I saw more goats, chickens, shoes made out of tires, colorful Masai clothes, donkeys, nuts, corn, you name it.

An incredible experience.

I don’t know if you can see it, but Mount Meru in the background.

These goats have really funny looking tails

What an experience this day has been.

I’m now exhausted, jet lag has hit full speed.  I’m going to take a tepid shower, brush my teeth, and climb into my mosquito tent.

Tomorrow church!

Here I sit at PDX airport.  All bags packed and checked.  I got a baggage waiver from Delta so I am taking 3 bags at 50lbs each of medical supplies!  So 150 lbs!  That’s a lot of gloves.  Hurray!  most of them donated by my workplace, Willamette Valley Hospice, thanks so much to them!  Mostly gloves, gowns, masks, that kind of thing for infection control.  Quite a bit of bandages and wound care.  I have learned that the hospital I will be working in has a 35-40% rate of HIV infection, so believe these will be very welcome.

As you can see, I’m loaded for bear!  (Or should I say elephant?)

Got each  bag right to the 50lb limit, have my 2 carry-ons packed super tight.

Nice porter at airport helped me lug it all to the check-on counter.

Eric grilled me in my Swahili on the way to the airport.  He couldn’t stump me!  I’ve done good!  So, I’ve got my shots, took my first malaria tablet this morning, done all I think I can do to prepare.  Crazy that it is really here now.  I’m about to board the plane for this wild and crazy adventure!   I’m nervous, I’m scared, but most of all excited!  Stay tuned!  Tutaonana!

Wow, how time flies.  It’s been over a month since my first post, and I’ve been busy!  I am closer to being ready, but the closer it gets, the more I realize how unprepared I may really be.  Yikes!  I’m getting nervous about it as it’s becoming more and more real.  I think I might be being a little OCD about trying to have everything in place to cover all contingencies.  Am I?  Or am I not prepared enough?  Argh!  That’s my dilemma?!?!

My friend Irene gave me this little plaque at our birthday lunch a few days ago.  A philosophy which I will truly try to incorporate!

But, I am working really hard, trying to be properly prepared.  I am actually feeling pretty good about my progress with Swahili.  It is a strange language.  Really easy in lots of ways, but so, so foreign to our conjugations and styles.  My methodology which I find works for me:  I learn new words from the computer, books;  verbs, phrases,etc… I then write them down, and I then record them on my i-phone, and  then, finally, I listen to them constantly in my car as I’m driving around.  I’m hitting all my learning styles, visual, tactile, and oral.   It seems to work for me.  It almost, sorta, well maybe, is beginning to make some sense to me.  But I often do get discouraged.  It really is so very different!  But, I tell myself , “Soma kwa dilii” (Study hard!) and again and again tell myself  , “Kila la kheri!”  (Good luck, or literally, “All the good”!   : )   I really really like that phrase!)

I’m getting better with my sutures.   And I have been practicing.  I thought they’d be so easy.  I’ve been sewing my whole life.  But Not!   I am now so impressed with Nate, my son-in-law, who is an ophthalmologist, and makes teeny tiny incisions in eyes with needles the size of eyelashes.  Holy cow! How can he do that?  I struggle with 2 inch size suture needles.  I am beyond blown away he can do those!  Wow!

So, I just keep practicing these.  And I am slowly getting better.  At least I haven’t killed any bananas yet!

And, I’ve got almost all my shots.  And yes a buttload of them.  Including Rabies!  Who would’ve thought?  I guess Rabies is quite a problem  in Tanzania.  The Rabies shots is a series of 3.  Not in the belly now thank goodness, but in the arm.  Still very ow – producing!  But lots of other ones too.  The hardest decision has been  whether to get all the shots in just one  arm, or spread the wealth to both arms, and even possibly the old gluteus?   Is it better to just have one arm really sore, or both arms medium sore, or not being able to sit properly for a few days?  Tough decision.  I opted for the totally one sore arm plan.   My left arm looks like I have been put through a vampire attack.  Swollen and full of holes.  HAHA!

My biggest concern right now is if I’m prepared enough. Honestly I stew about this a bit. What have I got myself into? Irene, at our birthday lunch, was telling me that you can never be prepared enough to what it is like in such an underserved population. She spent 18 months in South Africa working with people, trying to help them find education, so I totally trust she knows what she’s talking about.

I’ve travelled quite a bit myself, especially in emerging nations, but have always been able to go back to my nice controlled tourist hotel each night. This will be entirely different, I believe. I’m not worried about not having my “civilized world” around me. I’m pretty tough and adaptable, so whatever happens there I believe I can cope. However, my biggest concern is will I really be able to help?  I hope I won’t just be taking up someone’s time escorting me, and not really actually making a difference. It’s hard to express, but I really  do hope I can help. I’m confident of so many things… but that one thing really worries me. Are my skills enough? Is my knowledge enough? Is the language going to be a real barrier? How much will I be able to use what I’ve been trying to learn? These are the thoughts that are invading my dreams and thoughts.

As a hospice nurse I don’t often do skills any more such as IV’s, innoculations, and certainly not delivering babies.  My focus these 12 years in my profession has been on helping people and families coping and preparing for an unavoidable death.  This will be a whole switch of focus.  A very much wanted and needed switch.  I am honestly really worn out and overwhelmed with constant death and dying around me.  We’ve actually had quite a bit of death in our friends and family in the last few years too.   So this will be so welcome.  But, can I dredge up my old skills I haven’t used in over 12 years?  I long to work with the living and to give service and aid in helping people LIVE!    I just know how much I hope I CAN give and serve.  I really truly hope I  have the capabilities that will make a difference.  I do have the desire.   That’s the beginning, right?   And I am trying to be prepared.  I can’t do much else right now.  So, Corrie, I’m embracing you.  I’m living for today, and I will not worry, (at least try not to) but will only hope for tomorrow!

Anyway, I will stop ruminating.  48 days to go!  I will likely post once more before I take off on my flight.  I’ll keep practicing my Swahili, I will study my OB/gyny text book (I do want to work with delivering babies if possible).  And practicing sutures.  Poor bananas.  I’ve heard bologna works good too for practice…..    Or maybe ham?   Maybe plain good old steak?  Hmmmm…

Take care and Tutuonana!