Yesterday marked the halfway point of our time here in Africa. Some days it feels like I have been here for months, and others it feels like I got here yesterday.
This past weekend some of us girls decided to get away from the rambunctious hostel and have a girls night, so we headed to Lake Chala. Amanda, who owns the hostel, decided to tag along for the weekend since her friend is the one who manages the campsite. The 45 minute drive to the lake was gorgeous; miles of green fields, the view of Mount Kilimanjaro, fields of sunflowers and the dirt so rich it is deep red.
We arrived mid-afternoon on a perfectly sunny day. Although the campsite is quite small and simple, it’s everything you need. We dropped our stuff off in our tents and took the “tour.” Being just a year old, the campsite is in perfection condition consisting of a tiki bar looking over the lake with Kilimanjaro in the background, an outside BBQ place, an outside kitchen and the lake just steps away. As you stand on the campsite ground you are in Tanzania and just looking out on the other side is Kenya’s countryside. After enjoying an iced cold Serengeti beer, we decided to venture down to lake, however we were not informed of the hike that was ahead of us. Looking as if it were approximately 40 steps to the lake, it suddenly turned into rock climbing. Somehow we managed and avoided the edge’s drop off, we made it to the lake. As pretty as it was we were skeptical due to the rumors of crocodiles living in it and the death of a few swimmers. However, I decided to take the risk. I must say, it was one of the most terrifying 15 minutes of my life, as Anna would keep looking behind me to make sure I wasn’t about to become someone’s meal. We were also joined by a local Tanzanian family who were swimming and canoeing in their wooden boat so I somehow felt a sense of comfort. As it started to become dark, we ventured back up the cliff. Never has my heart rate been so high in my life. I began to rethink my physical state when an older couple passed me on the trail.
Spending the night at Lake Chala was one of the most relaxing nights of my life, and I didn’t even know it was possible to be any more relaxed in Africa. Seeing as though we were the only campers that night, we had the place to ourselves. Mambo, our bartender, became our best friend. We ate dinner, played hundreds of games of Uno and the staff lit us a bonfire at night where we enjoyed our $1.50 vodka drinks. Quite the life. However, as 8pm rolled around it was time for me to hit the tent. I wish I was kidding.
The next day we stayed around the campsite for the day for the Sunday BBQ. The couple from South Africa, who manage the campsite, brought their baby Tristan and their new puppy to join us. To be honest, I was more fascinated by the dog. We spent the afternoon tanning, reading, playing games, drinking and eating. Again, got sunstroke for the second time. Never underestimate the African sun.
Back to Moshi and back to start yet another week of research at the clinic. Jasmine, my translator, is a gift from God. She is such a people person and I feel as if people trust her whenever they talk to her, so people are very open. Since I finished my patient interviews last week, this week I start on the doctors, nurses, midwives and managers. However, being so busy and trying to save lives, they don’t want to give me the time of day. The think that blows my mind about the doctors here are they come and go as they want. One of the head doctors has been out for weeks, and some of the nurses in the maternity ward take breaks when they want. Slowly but surely, I have started the interviews with the doctors. I can confidently say I fell in love with one of the doctors this week. Although we do not speak the same language, nor was he interested in a 22-year-old mzungu, I think there is hope.
I finally had my “ah-ha” moment within the field of global health. Yes Dad, I can now assure you the quarter of a million dollars you have spent on my education has paid off. Let me elaborate so we can celebrate together. A part of my interviews for the nurses and doctors investigate post and prenatal care for the mothers, what is expected and what is actually done. So the topic of breastfeeding comes up; due to the fact that African women love to breastfeed anytime, anywhere to feed their little children. Anyways, so I begin to ask this one nurse who is in the middle of her practical and doing rotations. I ask what the protocol is about HIV positive mothers and breastfeeding and what do they suggest them to do in order to successful prevent mother to child transmission. Her answer: “The HIV+ mother will only breastfeed for 6 months.” Dumbfounded, I began to ask questions and investigate HOPING maybe she misunderstood the question. False. Again, she said, “The baby can only become infected from her mother if the baby has teeth and draws blood from the mother’s nipple.” Again, Wrong. At this point I am FIGHTING with the doctor via Jasmine, yet still trying to be culturally conscious and competent, understanding this is their culture and not their fault for lack of education. At one point Jasmine looked at me and said, “Lena, I don’t know what to tell you, this is what they believe.”
The next day I interview one of the doctors. Again, breastfeeding came up. Same question asked about HIV positive mothers. Again, same answer. “The mother has a choice of how long to breastfeed but we only suggest 6 months in order to prevent HIV transmission.” I just can’t take it anymore. Maybe this does not upset you as much as it does me due to the fact I have studied public and global health and PMTCT (prevention of mother to child transmission) is one of the highlighted subjects within nutrition and health in a developing country. So, as a health professional, I must take it into my hands and somehow educate these staff and patients via posters or pamphlets.
I took the day off of interviews yesterday to contribute my good deed. Anna, Jasmine and I strolled through town to do some errands. From the interviews I have began to get a sense of what needs to be changed or improved within the clinic. From talking to nurses and patients all have had an opinion about the insecticide-treated bed nets that prevent malaria. Also after asking what the greatest health issue seen in the clinic is was malaria, I knew something had to be done. These bed nets that are currently hanging (and I mean tied) up above the beds are filthy. There are dead mosquitos, dried blood and holes in them. Hence, the high rates of malaria because nothing is being down and honestly, probably one of the last things on the staff’s mind is replacing them. So I hustled and bustled my way through town to find bed nets as a contribution and a way to thank the clinic for putting up with the annoying mzungu. After about 5 stores and many arguments I finally found my match. Ten bed nets later and only $20.00 I feel a sense of accomplishment. Additionally I decided to make a stop at the medical store and buy them boxes of medical gloves, again, something they mentioned that lacked. The small things in our hospitals at home seem to be the greatest yet most absent items in developing countries. After a hot afternoon in town, we decided to treat Jasmine to lunch at our favorite coffee shop, Union Café. This is where is all went downhill.
Around 5pm, I started to not feel right. I begin to feel sick but just thought it was the heat and walking so much. I went in my room to check some emails and that was the end of me. I began to feel nauseous and told Anna to let me lay down for a few and let me know when dinner was ready. 15 hours later, I am still lying in my bed. Food poisoning led to severe dehydration. I can confidently say I have experienced swine flu and I think this topped the charts. I was throwing up for 12 hours straight, couldn’t sleep for a minute due to the fact that my body felt as if a truck had hit me. At one point I was so hot and couldn’t be in my room anymore, I decided to lay on the grass at 4am, and therefore be one step closer to the bathroom. I even began texting my mom, hoping she was either 1. going to show up at my door or 2. mail me some chicken soup. Long story short, somehow I survived. I can now sip water and keep it down. “I’m just one stomach flu away from my goal weight.” (Insert Ellie Spang’s voice here). I’ll tell you one thing, there is NOTHING worse than spending a night sick in an African bathroom. I have hit an all time low. Thank god for Anna, she has been my mother away from home. Not only does she have her own pharmacy here with drugs and electrolytes for me, she has brought out the entire store of Gatorade in order to rehydrate me.
This weekend the LMU group is going to Lake Chala for the weekend so we are staying behind to go to the Marangu Waterfalls. Here, we will climb up the waterfalls and jump off and then explore the caves nearby. Fingers crossed these waterfalls are not the habitat for the crocodiles that have left Lake Chala.
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