Silly me, taunting the obviously vengeful Tanzanian illness gods (who I've taken to picturing as a cabal of supersized, evil mosquitos, rubbing their front legs together ala Mr. Burns from the Simpsons) with talk of a functioning immune system. At least I'm out of bed for the first time in several days, and I EVEN made it down the hill all the way to the nearest town! When people said I'd start to appreciate the simple things from living in Africa, didn't know QUITE how right they were. Three cheers for occasional wins in daily battles with parasites!
I did, however, have an eventful few days while enclosed in my house alone. I have a friend moving in to the house tomorrow, so I had given her the spare main key and the only copy of the padlock key, thinking that surely I had the mental capacity to remember not to padlock the door that particular night. Except it turns out I have the memory capacity of a goldfish, and I promptly locked myself in. Given that every window in the house is thoroughly barred with steel girders JUST wide enough to let Paka in and out (did I mention I acquired a cat?), the malaria hadn't left me QUITE emaciated enough to make it through. Even more impressively, Jeremiah, the hospital secretary, came by with the treasurer to look over the repairs made to the house - and I had to explain through a window why I would truly love to let them in, but was a touch indisposed. It's a wonder that they leave children in my care.
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| Stupid cat, taunting me with her lithe figure and ability to leave at will. |
On to news. First and foremost, thank you Patty for asking, YES Macs and PCs are equally in demand here - frankly, even the clunker you bought ten years ago and has been collecting dust ever since is going to be a massive technological leap over here. Did I mention they have four computers? In the whole hospital? Yeah. Please let us pass on your junk to a hospital that can really use it.
Additionally, I may have mentioned in the past how Tweety's coming out as a rooster put a slight crimp in the plans to house him with Yosemite Sam, the large red guy who had been ruling the roost (tee hee). Well, the day finally came - Tweety has begun to do his roosterly duties, and he and Sam were drawing blood on a daily basis - it was time to make a move. Although first let me detour briefly to have you imagine sitting with a group of three to six year olds as they witness a rooster chase down a particularly recalcitrant hen, and trying to explain - in broken Swahili, no less - that they're not fighting, he just wants to kiss her. Er. Not the kind situation you can tell them to ask their moms about! At any rate, it was time for Sam to go. While I made it clear to the mamas that I didn't wish to be present for the actual dispatching, I neglected to clarify that I didn't think it was a particularly wonderful idea to do it in the middle of the kid's playground, within full view of all the windows, while the kids piled up to peer out at the proceedings. Or, you know, that it might be a good idea to NOT LEAVE THE HEAD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PLAYGROUND when you took the body inside to pluck and prepare. At any rate, lesson learned, more specific instruction is clearly necessary here. Sigh. However, I'm told he was quite delicious, and certainly provided much needed protein to my babies. So there's that. Also I'm informed it's a tad unconventional to name each chicken, and perhaps that might soften to blow next time. But I've already got my names plotted out for the upcoming chicks, so forget that.
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| Your sacrifice was not in vain, Sam. I salute you. |
Speaking of the kids, we have a new baby - two weeks old - named Joyce, and she is truly gorgeous, although pretty sick right now with a fever and an eye infection, keep your fingers crossed for her.Apparently her mother is alive but mentally incapable of caring for her - not uncommon, it is also the case with at least one other child in the orphanage now, but still very sad, especially as mental health services and medication are so sorely lacking. I'm sure with better access to care many women in this situation would not be faced with the agonizing choice of giving up their child - or having them taken from them. As it is, we'll do the best we can for the little scrap - and she is a sweetheart.
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| Bitty baby |
As for the older kids, they've been a whirlwind of activity lately - Z and the others are experimenting with different careers, clearly under my influence (cough cough). Neema is done being sick and is back to being a big squishy ball of giggles, which is pure pleasure.
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| Budding artists? |
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| A doctor like her semi-adopted grandfather? |
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| Erm, facial contortionist? |
Some things have been rough, though. Both Peter and two volunteers who have been here for the last three months, Trine and Annette, have departed in the last week, necessitating some difficult conversations with the kids, especially the older ones. "Bekka, are you going on an airplane too? Are you coming back? Is everyone leaving? When are you leaving?" I've tried to be honest and reassuring at the same time, but it's really difficult to look into their eyes and tell them that yes, in a few months you'll be hopping on an airplane too, without them. Shred your heart into teeny tiny pieces difficult, and for now I'm just talking about it. Blurgh.
In the meantime, I'm focusing on getting rid of the darn parasite, helping Bethan move in, and giving the kids as many cuddles as possible - AND, most importantly of all, trying to improve the infrastructure, both of the orphanage and the hospital, in a way that will be sustainable even after I leave. That means vitamins (my father has been able to track down a supplier who will give us a year's worth for approximately $150), continuing work on the garden, getting those laptops, and working to fill out those lists of medical supplies. If you'd like to contribute but aren't medically inclined yourself, please consider a financial donation - we're buying direct from suppliers whenever possible to get the most mileage out of the little funds that are available.
Thank you thank you, as always, for reading and for caring about me and the kids.
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