So you can't survive emotionally here without a little fun. Some folks borrow a vehicle from the compound and head off to other bush villages where a missionary guesthouse offers a place to stay. For Liz and me we took a camel ride! Like donkeys, camels are common here and are often found "parked" in the hospital parking lot next to the bush taxis that deliver patients or the donkey carts that carry heavy loads of millet or sorghum. The ride is a bit like being on a very tall horse....think 22-25 hands....with no reins or stirrups. Thankfully we were advised to bring a pillow to sit on as the "saddle" is wooden, prevented from slipping by long wooden poles that run chest to buttock. From the height of the camel we were able to see over the walls some surround their family compound with and get a different perspective than we had from the street.
My real adventure occurred on Sunday when Yen Mei and I headed out for a bike ride to a neighboring village. We started out headed east on the airstrip. At the far end was a gate to a road rutted from the traffic of donkey carts and motorcycles. Before we could reach it we had to get cross about 100 feet of tall grass. Given the number of viper bites seen at the hospital we shouted and stomped our feet to scare away any potential would be snakes. I can't say I was excited about this part of our journey but once safely through it was back on the seat and off we went. The road was crowded with women and young girls carrying basins on there head filled with foods for sale or carrying grains home for pounding into flour. The local well was a large pit with muddy water but a young man was busily filling 5 gallon water jugs so he could water his onion field. There was a network of cement troughs that served not only for irrigation but also the local swimming hole. At an intersection we came across a trough wider and deeper than others where 40-50 children were jumping and splashing and having the type of fun we wish for all children. After seeing the blank stares and sunken faces of so many children at the hospital it was uplifting to see kids having old-fashioned fun. We crossed the small bridge slipping and sliding in the wet clay mud. One young boy following us slipped and fell becoming covered in mud followed by the roar of laughter from the others. It seems as though children everywhere find similar things funny. When the children realized I had stopped to take a photo I was swarmed by kids, naked, covered in mud, all wanting their photo taken and of course grabbing for the camera to see their picture. Lesson learned. Be more discrete when you take pictures! Now covered in mud myself from the many hands that grabbed at me Yen Mei and I continued on. We never did get to the other village as we had to turn around due to time. On the way back we decided to take a different route. Unknowingly to Yen Mei this path didn't have a bridge over the drainage ditch so we were forced to hike up our skirts ( remember women must wear long skirts even to ride camels or bikes) and lifting our bikes high we waded across the drainage ditch filled with knee high filthy water. Knowing that schistosomiasis is common here the first thing I did upon returning was to shower scrubbing my legs especially well with soap and water.
So the whole skirt and head covering thing makes no sense to me as patients male and female alike lay on steel gurneys in the surgical ward stark naked for hours with no sign of any self consciousness and with not so much as a washcloth sized piece of fabric to cover any part. Not surprisingly, women nurse openly in public and in the OB ward when asked if they are making milk the lift up their wrap expose a breast and give the nipple a good squeeze sending milk often a foot or more. You don't want to be bending over to examine the patient and ask that question. So why cover up so conservatively in one setting and not at all in another? I've no clue but if I ever hear an explanation I'll let you know.
As ready as I am for a reprieve from heat and dust there's something sad about saying goodbye as well. I know I've said it before but the folks here are nothing short of incredible. I learned yesterday that the principle OB who's been here 20+ years was exciled last year for 10 months. Something about the German consulate getting word of threats to her. I would have been on the first plane out of Niger but she used the time in Niamey to write protocols, a project otherwise put off by babies to deliver. Some people face their calling with far more courage than I have.
To leave however you have to get through customs. Since I have managed to catch a cold, or at least that's what I'm hoping it is and Liz is worried with my red nose, cough and glassy eyes I may get more than a once over by airport screeners. While I'm not febrile, I promised her I'd take a Tylenol or 2 before we head to the airport tomorrow night.
Be well my friends and keep the staff here in your prayers that they are able to continue to do the good work God has called each of them to do. They are making difference!
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