27/07/2010 Nyangao watch out, I’m a coming!
Last week my Kiswahili teacher Benji had told us of a tragic story of his journey to Lindi (my placement area) 20 years before. He had travelled on a bus, and due to rain and the state of the roads, the buses became stranded in the middle of nowhere. For twenty five days these passengers and bus crew had to survive on practically no food and water from muddy puddles. Tragically many of the children on the bus did not survive. When finally help reached them, Benji had to go straight to hospital to be treated for severe dehydration and sores in his throat. He was one of the lucky ones. This really puts in to perspective how times have changed in some respects here, and made me feel ashamed about worrying about such superficial and silly things in regards to me flying down to Mtwara, but despite my best efforts I still did. Silly Mzungu.
I awoke very early (alfajiri) to the call to prayer echoing around the hotel room. My heart leapt at the reminder that this was the beginning of my new life for the next 18 month, no more lazy days of unemployment, no more iphone, no more journeys on the 101 bus to meet friends in Drakes for drinkies, and no more sausages and cheese (the latter pained me the most!)
At 6 am or saa kumi na mbili kamilli asubuhi in Tanzanian time (the day starts 6 am here not midnight!) my taxi driver arrived on time (gasp) and I was off to my flight. I had a hundred worries… would I be searched, would I have to pay excess, and would the plane fall out the sky and crash to ground in a glorious fireball. I should have worried more about the first bit. Security here is surprisingly high for an internal flight, and I had to unpack my incredibly tightly packed bag. It always happens to me, I was even waiting for the infamous question I was once asked by an American jobs worth, “ Madam are you carrying viral culture or biological warfare in your bag?”…”Why yes sir I am, they were on sale in the Ecuadorian rainforest, I could not resist”, I obviously quipped in my head. The Tanzanian guy was a much nicer man, and kept repeating “pole sana” which is basically, I am very sorry!
After this I found my bags to be 14 kilos over the limit, which I expected. The lady behind the desk initially suspicious of this dishevelled, red faced Mzungu , asked for TSH 70,000. I was ready to pay all my wages at this point, as all I wanted to do was stop worrying about my baggage (I had left one and a half big bags back in Dar already). I used my excessive charm… or more likely pathetic pleading to secure an excess of only TSH 25,000. RESULT. Through another security area and then freedom! I was pleasantly surprised to find my flight left on time; the plane was modern and landed in Mtwara only an hour later. For about 5 minutes I cried inside as I could not find my bag, and thought the girl had dished out a different kind of penalty for putting such a heavy bag on her small plane. I was even more scared when the plane starting firing up engines to return with new passenger only 10 minutes after we landed. Yet, I was relieved to discover it was the first one out and under everyone else’s. STOP FRETTING YOU IDIOT, I screamed at myself (internally).
But then I saw them…two of my guardian angels in their chariot. Tony another VSO volunteer is a wonderful English gent, with a great sense of humour and a heart of gold. He was joined by his work colleague Deo, a lovely smiley Tanzanian guy. They whisked me away in the chariot, and through the beautiful and hot surroundings of Mtwara. I was led to places to buy essentials such as peanut butter, and corned beef. Tony bought sausages. I nearly died when I realised that they existed here in Mtwara.
I then had the pleasure in meeting another volunteer’s wife who had just come down from Uganda to live. Jackie is bright, bubbly and a delight to chat with. As a Ugandan she too is learning Kiswahili pole pole (slowly), but I feel she will be fluent before the month is out. All together we journeyed home, to the dulcet tones of African bongo music! The scenery is beautiful, with palms and other trees sweeping as far as the eye can see, with small mud hut villages spotted all along the tarmac road. In comparison to the north, the roads are fairly quiet and not so terrifyingly dangerous. Maybe it was more to do with the skills of my driver! Although he did admit to running over a flock of Hornbills (big turkey like birds) earlier that morning!
Before I knew it the vast convent and hospital sprung up out of the village of Nyangao. I was home.
I was shown to my house. I had seen it in pictures before, but I was still surprised by the size! It’s bigger than my house in England, and also has a lovely garden with a plethora of fruit trees and birdies to check out. I set up home in my room, which has a double bed (I have only had single beds for the past year). Small things eh! Yet no rest for the wicked, I was quickly whisked to meet all my colleagues in the hospital which is only a five minute walk away. The next hour was a blur of “Habari za leo”, “Nzuri”, “Karibu Nyangao”, and lots of “Asante sana”. I will let you translate those! I met my new lab colleagues, and feel very lucky! They are all lovely, and patient with my current lack of Kiswahili! Monica my compatriot is even more delightful and I am really looking forward to working with her for the next 18 months. Hopefully I can be as helpful to her as she has been to me!
After all this I was then collected by Tony in Helga his other chariot, a 20 year old green polo and whisked to his house. I was reunited with his lovely wife Barbara, a pharmacist at the hospital, whom I had the pleasure of meeting before in Dar. We chatted, drank beer, and guess what we had sausages and mash! Maybe one day I shall cheese again! I hope that I get a few more days like this one during my time here in Nyangao.


28.07.2010 First day nerves.
At 5.30am, my ascari (night guard), awakens in what I think he considers is a quiet fashion, but in reality is a symphony of coughs and moans. He sits outside the kitchen, not far from my bedroom, but it sometimes feels like he is in the room! So do the other people living across the football pitch outside my house. These are relatives of the patients in the hospital, whom stay in the family compound. Yet the sound of children happily playing is a great sound. Another sensory change here is the smell of burning. In England, if we smell that we either run around the house checking all appliances, or chastising a neighbour who dares to light a bonfire without telling us to close our windows. However, here people cook with charcoal stoves outside, and when done they leave them on the sand to smoulder. The acrid smell is now becoming normal, it reminds me of Reading festival and the fire queen that is Lucy Breeze, so good memories!
At 7.30am-7.45-8.00 am the morning meeting starts. All doctors, clinicians, Barbara, Monica, and I attend everyday to discuss the cases from yesterday and from overnight. It is very interesting, but although it is English, everyone speaks so softly and I think I may be a little deaf! After the meeting I join Monica in the lab. The lab is rather well equipped thanks to the hard work of Monica and Johanna the VSO volunteer I am replacing. There is organisation, and fragments of quality assurance, standard of operations, and maintenance of equipment, and I again realise how much I am going to learn from this experience. It frightens me a little, but it is exhilarating too.
I go through all the notes left by Johanna, and Monica explains how certain things work. I sit at the computer, slightly fretting about how I will be ever be able to get used to being in a position of seniority! I hope I don’t let anyone down! But Monica seems happy and confident in me so that’s reassuring! I then watched Thomas and Monica testing CD4s and practice my basically pathetic Kiswahili with them.
At 3.30pm it’s home time. I think about braving the market today, which again is only 5 minutes away, but I am exhausted. I go home, cook what is a rather pathetic stir-fry, and do some ironing. Yes I know, me doing ironing… but I’m senior now don’t you know!


29.07.2010 Pricking fingers and negative results.
I left the compound today! My day started with greetings a plenty, panic about where do I even begin, and an offer from Tony and Salvina that I could not refuse! They were going on HIV testing outreach to one of the surrounding villages. Tony had helped to start this up, and now it was possible that two trips occur per week. We arrived with John from the lab, Mary a nurse (Deo’s wife), and the formidable Salvina. We journeyed over crazy sand roads to this village, and set up in an empty building in the village. Announcers had been employed to inform people of our presence the day before, but no-one arrived for testing. I had never tested in this way before and I was slightly nervous about causing pain to people, even if it was just a pin prick! However, Tony was worse than me at it, so I felt better.
In the end we tested 76 people, half male and half female, with ages ranging from 14-63. All were negative, which was great to see, although Tony explained that often those with the riskiest lifestyles are too ashamed to go for testing, and the positive results often originate from the villages closer to the tarmac road. This is because the lorry drivers and travellers bring loose morals and infection on their way through. The road brings so much here, not all good.
I braved the market after work. It is actually rather small, and rather a friendly place for a tall blond haired Mzungu to wander. I met some nice stall holders, whom I’m sure were charging me way too much, but I was not going to argue over 20p today! I brought my wares home, and cooked a sumptuous feast of tomato pasta. I can cook I think, just not that well, but I was happy! I washed my clothes, and reconsidered again the opportunity to have my washing done every week for Tsh 17,000 a month. I am lazy, but at least I can admit it!