Thursday 30 November 2017

Awareness Rising

Over the past 21 months, I have been a part of many meetings, trainings, discussions, and seminars.  The common denominator, in the end, is the firm belief that the real problem is everyone outside the room: from the colonisers, to the Banyamulenge, to the president, to the civil servants, to the NGOs, to the planning/implementation/monitoring/evaluation process of any given project, to the village chiefs, to the villagers, to the gas in the lake.

Everything is the problem.

Everything but you and me.  And I’m not too sure about you.

Friday 17 November 2017

Highs and Lows

I had made a presentation on biopsychology in French to a roomful of nurses, who learned that hugging releases oxytocin, which is for bonding and trust – not only for inducing contractions.  My sheer determination to not faint in this situation impressed me deeply, if no one else, so I was content.  Weeks later, when I tried to explain to the Medical Director of that health zone that we would like to invite some of his head nurses to a four-day seminar on mental illness (diagnosis and treatment), he was disgusted with the proposed budget.

“Change it to two days.  That’s all that’s necessary.  None of them understand about the hypothalamus anyway.”

Now, I am by no means a highly trained individual, but this is equivalent of saying of a doctor “Oh, forget about the pancreas; it doesn’t make sense to him anyway.”


Saturday 11 November 2017

A Thousand Words

The sun pours lazily over the mists and slanting tin roofs of a Central African city.  The irrepressible growth of dense greenery, like a daisy in the cracking sidewalk of a seedy neighbourhood, makes the place look hopeful, alive.  Birds signal the dawn along with the screeching car alarm that heralds anything from the fact that it is being cleaned, to a slight wind, to the realisation that existence is futile in a chassis of metal and oil. 

The intrepid human, in her natural habitat of pyjamas, surveys the scene with the same quiet satisfaction of Mufasa watching the circle of life from Pride Rock. 

In the distance, there is a thorax-shaking boom! 

Perhaps I should not be making breakfast outside today, she thinks. 

Monday 6 November 2017

Bodies and Souls

The training on diagnosing and treating mental illness went smoothly right up until it didn’t - which was the point at which we offered $5 to each participant for coming, staying on our tab for four days, and learning how best to care for their patients. 

One older head nurse began drinking during the last meal and wouldn’t stop – apparently, we were to be his DD in order to see the condition of the route to the hospital where our seminar was held. 

I had given up a precious Saturday for the closing of this training and was doing everything except literally flapping my arms and hooting to herd everyone to the door like a bunch of lost (or drunken) sheep.  Unfortunately, 3:00pm to 4:30pm saw a steady stream of complaints and a lovely zigzag of pointing fingers that would’ve intrigued a seasoned knitter.