Guatemala

I was expecting something completely different than this. My vision was arriving to a small dumpy airport on a plane of missionaries, dumped into a bustling street with cabbies jumping over each other for my business and little children following me with open palms. What happened was I arrived to a very large modern airport (spotlessly clean with a staff that said "Welcome to Guatemala" as I passed), on a plane full of businessmen, and was directed out the door to the shuttle I desired. No begging children, no begging cabbies, and I woke up in Antigua, a strange westernized mecca just south of the city. Antigua is infused with serious cashflow. I put down my bags, went to the churches, rolled up my sleeves and bargained in the market (with terrible but improving spanish). ..... and went back to my room to count my losses. I'm totally struck by how safe I feel here. Not one person ripped me off, not one man made me feel uncomfortable, not one person begged. Here where 75% are below poverty- you would not know it. I have a feeling that has everything to do with my current location but still. It is remarkable how safe I feel here, how beautiful it is... And now back to the hostle ;)

Thanks

Each night we arrive at "The Plaza" an oasis in Tent city with palm trees around a pool and 12$ bottles of wine. Outside tonight I can here gun shots and yelling as we sit around and chat. Demonstrations have started. It has rained for four days and the people of Haiti are upset that they are living in tents. All this Aid money and no aid. God I wish I could just stay and help and help. It is sad here.
The people here are so appreciative. They wave at me when I come in and my translator pulled me aside today and said quietly and sincerely "everybody loves you here" (I don't know why). My patient told the media rep that I saved his life and we got our picture taken together to send to the sponser of IMC. Things like that feel so good. I'm so far far away from patients who complain about their dinner tray, from being so damn sweet to crazy mean crack addicts, from all the bullshit that comes with my job at home. All day long people say "thank you" to me... and I'm just doing my job.

Je Fait Mal

I'm lazing by the pool today... seriously. But I have been working my hard-exhausted by the end of the day. At this point I could stay here for a long time and be happy. I like it here. The people, the voodoo, the weather... and it's beautiful. They need help. By 8am even my knees are sweating and I prefer this to Boston weather. Who'da thought. I move bed to bed all day long hanging meds, placing IVs, saying "c'est bon", and pantamiming just about everything. This is what I've learned in Creol. The whole ward watches me work. It no longer makes me nervous. We do have 2 vents- powered by a generator when the power goes out, and one big oxygen tank in the center of the room with tubing running out to the different beds. Two days ago we finished making charts for everyone- it's as organized as can be ;) Eyeballing a versed drip..- god part of me really likes being far away from nursing that's based around preventing lawsuits. I feel like we are helpful here and it feels good. I joke with the translators. I document what is important. I take care of people. It is simple.

Haiti- Day 4

Working Triage on nights:

My translator is 19 yo- he never sits up and translates half of what I say. There is constant banging on the door and yelling outside. In order to get into this ER, you must look the most dead. So I go outside from time-t0-time to determine who is faking it, and who is critically ill- then I point and say "this one, then this one, then that one". Last night I had a man who was stabbed, a woman whose face was bitten by another woman, a 8 yo girl that was raped, a 4 yo who had been hit in the head with a rock, .... and on and on. People carrying lifeless bodies to have them then sit up and say "my stomach hurts".. "where?" ... and then they sweep their hand over their whole body.

Bienvenue Haiti

I went in without expectation and was once again surprised..haha.

Haiti

The roads are paved but rubble and tent cities line the "streets". This will be short because I am exhausted...but we see the same things here as Africa. God I wish I could elaborate more but I've been working hard on no sleep. It's hot- dripping sweat hot- just the way I like it :). And the people are kind and look after their family members in a way that warms your heart. The medical care they receive is awful- in a way that will break your heart. And the culture is fun and happy... but there isn't a whole lot of smiling here unless you are the one to smile first. Such a polite culture- they'd never leave you hanging. So anyway... the conditions report: I live in the ballroom of a hotel on a mattress beneath a web of strings holding up mosquito nets. I eat soooo well- seriously. Fresh vegetables... yeah MREs for lunch but who cares... dinner is amazing. And per ususal- jerks don't do forgien aid- the people are awesome. At the end of the day I jump in the pool. To summarize: I work hard, I sleep hard, I rest hard- life is good.

Zanzibar and Leaving Africa

Getting out to Zanzibar is nothing short of the usual adventure. I miss the last ferry by 10min due to the bus breaking down, spend the night in a seedy hotel, and then take the morning ferry to Zanzibar. Here, I am planning to have a reunion with my friends from Britian.

Zanzibar is ruled by Tanzania but operates like it's own seperate city. It has a mayor and its own government. For hundreds of years Mulims and Christains have been living door to door without dispute. This is a great source of pride. I can see why they are able to live so peacefully. Zanzibar is instant happiness. It's hot don't get me wrong. I am dripping sweat. But, since the slave trade ended, spices and fish are their main source of income. It's a perfect marraige of things. There are parties on the beach every night and there is no electricity on the island, which is a major source of agrivation for tourists hoping for a cold beer. But for me, I am used to warm beer and I like candle light. Generators run the music at night and we have an amazing time.

I write in my journal on the last day:

On my last day, Africa is already calling me back. In a bus crammed with 20 people, I am watching the sun set through the palms..white sand, and blue/green water. The woman next to me is muslim, wrapped head to toe in floral. She is trying to speak to my in Swahili: "Jasmine.... rice" she says, referring to my name. I can only make out one or two words but smile kindly as her baby carresses my arm. Football has just let out and kids with kleets are crowding on. Trucks full of teenagers shouting and dancing are driving by. I have left all my dear friends from England- we met in Jinja, bumped into each other here and there. "It's rubbish that you're leaving" ...a confession from Tom. Maybe I will hold up to the promise I have made time and time again in Africa and return for longer. I cried with I left Nikki- the two of us shared just about everything between girls. We navigated East Africa together, fumbles and all. Two strangers.

Zanzibar:

Imagine paradise in a sweat room. This is Zanzibar. Black bodies, fishing from dug-out canoes in green water and white sand. I jumped into the water in the middle of a school of dolphins, I sat on pristine beaches, swam with sea turtles, snorkled world class reefs twice, sailed twice, toured old slave trade sites, visited a spice plantation, and danced at night with rastas and masai. Oh Africa, I'm going to miss the people here...the beautiful, optimistic, pole-pole-ness of it all.

After I leave Nikki, I arrive in Stonetown in the dark. A local boy walks with me to the ferry terminal. Talking makes the pitch black alleys of Stonetown less frightening. I'm impressed with myself. I remember the way. I get on the overnight ferry to the mainland, a 10 hour journey. Because I'm white, I get a couch, and I am too grateful to feel guilty. Foam mattresses cover every inch of the floor. People have brought food and bedding for the journey. I curl up on my backpack and fall asleep. I wake up when I am nearly falling off the couch with the rocking. Babies are rolling back and forth and, because they are African, also still asleep. The plaques on the walls are swinging at 45 degree angles, and I'm feeling pannicked. All the doors are locked, there are no life jackets, no window that could open. I accept my fate and go back to sleep. "Salaam alaikum sister, Jambo, Jambo" I have arrived in heaven and it is African, Islamic African. I wasn't expecting this. No, but I have arrived for my last few hours in Africa. ...So sad.

I rearrange my bags 6 times before they let me get on the plane. They give me 10lbs for free. Africa ;) I thought they could do better but in the end did the best they could to help me. 10lbs and most everything I wanted. I left a bribe, a suitcase, and clothes for the girls...who immediatley started trying things on. You live and learn... and in the end it always works out.

Goodbye Kampala, Hello Safari

In the last few days in Kampala I slowly pack my things and say goodbye to some really great people. I leave with a list of phone numbers and a phone full of well wishes. I board the plane which I have a 1 in 10 chance of surviving on (according to statistics of planes in Africa). The flight is short and smooth and I write in my journal: From the plane window I can see the cooking fires so far away in the darkness. True to Africa, they have let me buy the ticket an hour before departure, waived the excess baggage fee, and departed 3 hours late. I arrive in Nairobi at night and spring the money for a taxi and nice hotel. In the morning I take a shuttle 6 hours south to Arusha, Tanzania. Visa fee- $100. Arusha is where I will be leaving for safari.

I spend the afternoon walking around, bargaining down safari prices, comparing companies, and making some friends. The next day I take the bus to Moshi to see Kilamajaro and it is immense, rising out of the flatness, and dissapearing into a cloud. Apparently, only 1 in 10 actually summit according to a guide I am talking to. Who knows- maybe I am misunderstanding.

Safari departs in the afternoon and in the morning I am driving through the Ngorongoro Crater Reserve. I drive for 3 days standing on the back seat of a landrover and watching the Serengeti and the Ngorongoro Crater sprawl out in front of me. I listen to my IPOD as we drive. I keep my shirt over my head to spare me from the African sun. I spend my evenings with the guides, drinking warm beer, and talking about absolutely nothing. The animals are incredible. I drink my coffee amoungst elephants and gazelles. I see zebras and wildabeast like schools of fish. It's a fitting analogy because the Serengeti feels like the ocean: vast, flat, rippeling in the breeze. I see a leopard and cub sleeping in a tree, the illusive black rhino, and sit in a pride of lions. Elephants, girraffes, antalopes, .... only 10 feet away. It's beautiful.