The last two days here in Tanzania were spent finishing my exit report and signing out. On Friday I went to see a Christmas Pageant. The daughter of the country director was in the school's annual play. Actually just about everyone was which I thought was wonderful. Later we went back to the Lebanese restaurant for a farewell late lunch as they were traveling that evening back to the US of A for Christmas. Saturday was spent wandering about a relatively fancy shopping area called Slipway just on the Indian Ocean where I managed to get rid of all the Tanzanian schillings that I had left and actually a bit more. That night off to the airport and my Bird home. The flight left and arrived on time and the trip was not bad though long and cramped as usual. I had just a bit more than an hour between connections and was apprehensive but my arrival gate was E2 and my departure gate was E3. So a leisurely stroll over, a bit of standing in the check-in line and onto the next flight. As we left the pilot announced that the snow had begun in Boston. "How wonderful," I thought, "New England is so happy to see me that it is giving a nor'easter in my honor". Then for the next 6 hours nothing further. The movies were so bad that even I, who will watch the lousiest movie on a flight, skipped this one. Finally about an hour before arrival we got the news, not unexpected, that Boston had closed for snow removal. Onto JFK where we refueled and then back in the air to Boston. We got in about 3 hours late but it was a lot better than circling about Boston endlessly. By good fortune the Concord buses were running and I managed to get the 1530 bus up here. It was slow going as the light rain that was then falling in Boston had changed to freezing rain in New Hampshire and then into snow in Maine. Our driver had to stop around Saco to clean the ice from his windshield and while we were sitting there, some poor soul in an SUV slid into us. I felt nothing but heard a noise that I thought was the driver changing gears to start up. A good advertisement for buying the largest vehicle one can instead of these compact cars that I do. Though with gas at three dollars plus, you can't go very far these days. We sat there for an hour until the police came by and then did get into Portland about 2030.
By then the roads were so bad that I spent the night in Portland at the "Clarion" hotel. Used to be the "Doubletree" but now a bit more upscale. Actually it was quite comfortable. The restaurant was surprisingly good and it was not that expensive.
Monday beamed bright and sunny with that beautiful white purity that only a fresh snow can impart. Gerda got plowed out, got down to Portland and took me home where I was able to give a cheery hello to my good friend Jack Daniels who had been patiently waiting such a long time for my return.
Strange feeling now three days later on Thursday morning as I write this. It is almost as if I had never left but I do know that I did and did return. More than "deja vue". Perhaps a new syndrome and we can call it "ne deja vue pas".
And, as the caption at the end of the Loony Tunes and Merry Melodies always said, "That's all, folks".
Stephen
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
The Long Road Home, Part 1
It was a dark and stormy night. The wind whistled ominously and the trees branches beat on the window as if they were trying to break in. Now this has absolutely nothing to do with my day yesterday but I did think that it might just get you interested to read a bit more.
Actually the day started out without problem. It had only rained a slight bit on Tuesday so that I thought that the road would not be a real problem. Wednesday morning just as I wandered over to have a bit of breakfast at 0630, a few drops of rain began to fall. Over the next 30 minutes as I finished packing and loading my bags in the car, the rain began to pick up and the low hanging clouds began to cover our hillside. Starting out was no problem even though the rain began to pour down. We had to stop at Nduta to pick up some specimens from the respiratory surveillance program to bring to Dar. I had not been in the camp for almost a week and I was eager to see it again. But what I found was a village under water. There were large puddles of water everywhere and what was not under water was just that cement-like mud that clung and refused to bescaped off. The ditches that channeled the water were torrents of brown water rushing by. People were peering out of their huts watching dejectedly. Occasionally thunder would roar as if a beast had been struck by the lightening that had just proceeded it.
From Nduta we traveled on to Kisulu as we had mail to deliver there. Swaying from side to side, our car tried to avoid the larger puddles and ruts that dominated the road but, though slow, we made it to Kisulu without a real problem. we had two young boys, one of about 5, the other about 7 with us as they were traveling to Kigoma to spend the holidays with their grandmother. The younger, a bit unexpectedly for a child of a staff member, was frightened of me, refused to sit too close and kept staring at me as, if like Michelangelo's Moses, I might grow horns. I didn't. He did relax a bit as we went on because we pick up two more staff at Nduta to take along. So he was forced to crowd close to me and he survived.
At Kisulu, we were greeted by the coordinator, a lovely Kenyan lady that I had medically helped before. We stayed for about an hour for tea and lunch. Ominously she told us that it had been raining very hard for more than 12 hours.It still was coming down heavily and still the clouds were lower. We left Kisulu, about 1230 and drove out of that small dilapidated town through streets that were flooded and drainage ditches that were overflowing with garbage and muddy water. Like the road from Kibondo to Kisulu, it was all packed dirt but, unlike that road, this one was only mud and water. Where the large trucks had passed, it was churned-up mud and ruts. We had enough time to drive even slower and still make it to the plane that was scheduled to leave at 1630. We were assuming that it would not be canceled because of the weather. This was a bit optimistic as we had earlier learned that Dr. Vachagan's flight on Sunday had been canceled for "technical reasons" and, although he made it out the next day, he had missed his connections to get back home to Yerevan. I was a bit more careful as I gave myself a couple of buffer days just for that contingency.
We traveled slowly along dodging back and forth between small lakes, ruts, the ditches, the few people on foot or bicycle. Suddenly ahead of us, as we topped a small hill, was a truck stuck in the road and jackknifed. There was, fortunately, a bit of space near the not to deep side ditch that we were just able to inch by. Shortly after that the road became more hard packed and the mud less slippery. On we went, a bit of calm overcoming my nervousness. Again we climbed a small hill and there in front were a few stopped cars but in front of them about halfway up the hill coming toward us was a huge truck stuck and behind that was a line of about 20 more vehicles of all sizes. People were gathered and chatting as if at a grand fete. There were folks trying to brace the truck. It was a double load with a trailer attached and it really had that resigned look that so clearly said, "I am not going anywhere". Off to one side in the ditch blocking that way was another truck so mired down that it would never more during this rainy season unless "all the king's men and all the king's horses" came along. There was even less room on the other side. I looked at my watch, 1330. I had visions of a long very uncomfortable night. We were out of Codan (radio) range and also mobile telephone service range. One little bright spot, the rain slowly stopped as we got out to walk a bit and watch the proceedings. The truck had started up the hill but because of the weight it was dragging and the slippery mud it was traversing it could not get traction. It had begun to slip backward and in doing so the link between the 2 portions had twisted so that it could not be further backed down. As we watched and silently cursed a bit, actually more than a bit, men were filling in the ditch on the side of the road. After an apprehensive 30 minutes during with I was growing more resigned though not any less annoyed, a Toyota land cruiser from the opposite way managed to get through, a UNHCR car no less. Right after that we too got in place and and went through very very slowly. We were the third car through and that was also fortunate as the ditch was getting chewed up. As we inched along through the ditch very close to the truck looking more and more like a beached whale in my imagination, the car began to tilt ominously until we were at a 30 degree angle and I felt sure that we would tip on our side. Luckily at that point there was a small hillock that blocked further tilting and we scraped along it. As we passed the beached truck we were able to get back to the middle of the road and could easily get by the line of cars and trucks stranded there.
The weather continued to improve and and the road got harder and less muddy as it had not rained so much. So as we got closer to Kigoma it became hard packed again and once we got into the town there was, believe it or not, there was tarmac. We turned off the tarmac road onto a small, almost a path, road to the airport. Bouncing along through the deep ruts, we did without further mishap make it to the dirt strip airport that fortunately the UN also used so that it had been upgraded. We got there at about 1530, stood in the passenger line to squeeze through the narrow door, to have the luggage hand searched and finally check in. The plane had not been canceled though it was an hour late. I was comforted as I saw a Catholic priest among the passengers, thinking God will now definitely not let anything happen to us. Carmen DelRosario who was traveling with me to go back to her family for the holidays, a Catholic, told me that she had had the very same thought. The flight back to Dar was without problem. I was further reassured when I went to the loo and saw that the instruction signs were in English and German indicating that the plane was made in Germany. The only real disappointment was that I missed having enough time to make a pilgramage out to the spot where Stanley met Livingston on the shores of Lake Albert (Tanganika) at Ujiji so tantalizing close by.
A short ride to the hotel, the Markham, the same one I was in when I first got here, a small supper at the new Lebanese restaurant across the way and then to bed after an exhausting day and, like Ishmael, I lived to tell the tale.
Stephen
Actually the day started out without problem. It had only rained a slight bit on Tuesday so that I thought that the road would not be a real problem. Wednesday morning just as I wandered over to have a bit of breakfast at 0630, a few drops of rain began to fall. Over the next 30 minutes as I finished packing and loading my bags in the car, the rain began to pick up and the low hanging clouds began to cover our hillside. Starting out was no problem even though the rain began to pour down. We had to stop at Nduta to pick up some specimens from the respiratory surveillance program to bring to Dar. I had not been in the camp for almost a week and I was eager to see it again. But what I found was a village under water. There were large puddles of water everywhere and what was not under water was just that cement-like mud that clung and refused to bescaped off. The ditches that channeled the water were torrents of brown water rushing by. People were peering out of their huts watching dejectedly. Occasionally thunder would roar as if a beast had been struck by the lightening that had just proceeded it.
From Nduta we traveled on to Kisulu as we had mail to deliver there. Swaying from side to side, our car tried to avoid the larger puddles and ruts that dominated the road but, though slow, we made it to Kisulu without a real problem. we had two young boys, one of about 5, the other about 7 with us as they were traveling to Kigoma to spend the holidays with their grandmother. The younger, a bit unexpectedly for a child of a staff member, was frightened of me, refused to sit too close and kept staring at me as, if like Michelangelo's Moses, I might grow horns. I didn't. He did relax a bit as we went on because we pick up two more staff at Nduta to take along. So he was forced to crowd close to me and he survived.
At Kisulu, we were greeted by the coordinator, a lovely Kenyan lady that I had medically helped before. We stayed for about an hour for tea and lunch. Ominously she told us that it had been raining very hard for more than 12 hours.It still was coming down heavily and still the clouds were lower. We left Kisulu, about 1230 and drove out of that small dilapidated town through streets that were flooded and drainage ditches that were overflowing with garbage and muddy water. Like the road from Kibondo to Kisulu, it was all packed dirt but, unlike that road, this one was only mud and water. Where the large trucks had passed, it was churned-up mud and ruts. We had enough time to drive even slower and still make it to the plane that was scheduled to leave at 1630. We were assuming that it would not be canceled because of the weather. This was a bit optimistic as we had earlier learned that Dr. Vachagan's flight on Sunday had been canceled for "technical reasons" and, although he made it out the next day, he had missed his connections to get back home to Yerevan. I was a bit more careful as I gave myself a couple of buffer days just for that contingency.
We traveled slowly along dodging back and forth between small lakes, ruts, the ditches, the few people on foot or bicycle. Suddenly ahead of us, as we topped a small hill, was a truck stuck in the road and jackknifed. There was, fortunately, a bit of space near the not to deep side ditch that we were just able to inch by. Shortly after that the road became more hard packed and the mud less slippery. On we went, a bit of calm overcoming my nervousness. Again we climbed a small hill and there in front were a few stopped cars but in front of them about halfway up the hill coming toward us was a huge truck stuck and behind that was a line of about 20 more vehicles of all sizes. People were gathered and chatting as if at a grand fete. There were folks trying to brace the truck. It was a double load with a trailer attached and it really had that resigned look that so clearly said, "I am not going anywhere". Off to one side in the ditch blocking that way was another truck so mired down that it would never more during this rainy season unless "all the king's men and all the king's horses" came along. There was even less room on the other side. I looked at my watch, 1330. I had visions of a long very uncomfortable night. We were out of Codan (radio) range and also mobile telephone service range. One little bright spot, the rain slowly stopped as we got out to walk a bit and watch the proceedings. The truck had started up the hill but because of the weight it was dragging and the slippery mud it was traversing it could not get traction. It had begun to slip backward and in doing so the link between the 2 portions had twisted so that it could not be further backed down. As we watched and silently cursed a bit, actually more than a bit, men were filling in the ditch on the side of the road. After an apprehensive 30 minutes during with I was growing more resigned though not any less annoyed, a Toyota land cruiser from the opposite way managed to get through, a UNHCR car no less. Right after that we too got in place and and went through very very slowly. We were the third car through and that was also fortunate as the ditch was getting chewed up. As we inched along through the ditch very close to the truck looking more and more like a beached whale in my imagination, the car began to tilt ominously until we were at a 30 degree angle and I felt sure that we would tip on our side. Luckily at that point there was a small hillock that blocked further tilting and we scraped along it. As we passed the beached truck we were able to get back to the middle of the road and could easily get by the line of cars and trucks stranded there.
The weather continued to improve and and the road got harder and less muddy as it had not rained so much. So as we got closer to Kigoma it became hard packed again and once we got into the town there was, believe it or not, there was tarmac. We turned off the tarmac road onto a small, almost a path, road to the airport. Bouncing along through the deep ruts, we did without further mishap make it to the dirt strip airport that fortunately the UN also used so that it had been upgraded. We got there at about 1530, stood in the passenger line to squeeze through the narrow door, to have the luggage hand searched and finally check in. The plane had not been canceled though it was an hour late. I was comforted as I saw a Catholic priest among the passengers, thinking God will now definitely not let anything happen to us. Carmen DelRosario who was traveling with me to go back to her family for the holidays, a Catholic, told me that she had had the very same thought. The flight back to Dar was without problem. I was further reassured when I went to the loo and saw that the instruction signs were in English and German indicating that the plane was made in Germany. The only real disappointment was that I missed having enough time to make a pilgramage out to the spot where Stanley met Livingston on the shores of Lake Albert (Tanganika) at Ujiji so tantalizing close by.
A short ride to the hotel, the Markham, the same one I was in when I first got here, a small supper at the new Lebanese restaurant across the way and then to bed after an exhausting day and, like Ishmael, I lived to tell the tale.
Stephen
Friday, December 7, 2007
Last Post from Nduta/Kibondo
On December 1st, the world, at least some parts of it, noted "World Aids Day" with ceremonies in many places. There was one at our camp, Nduta. Although the mood looks very cheerful, there was, indeed, a very serious message about safety and commitment. Whether the men and it is the men who hold the key to curtailing this scourge paid any attention is up in the air right now. Statistics would suggest that they do not. Statistics from America also suggest that this absolutely fatal incurable disease is now regarded as an annoyance that can be controlled much as hypertension and diabetes are. Incidence rates are rising and this is tragic news.
I had my last day at the camp on Wednesday and have spent the past few days here at the base tidying up the end of mission details that are always there. The major one is the "End of Mission" or Exit Report". It is basically a summery of what I found, what I did and what I think needs further work. On Wednesday, the 12th, I will, early in the morning with another ex-pat from Boston, no less, make the 6 hour drive to Kigoma to catch the flight to Dar es Salaam. Six hours if it is not raining and the roads still are functional. So far the rains have not been that bad and the roads have remained quite reasonable for out here this time of year. I remember when my time to leave Sierra Leone during the height of the rains in August drew close, I would get up every day and check the sky. The road out from Kailahoun to Kenema was 60 kilometers of rut and mud but we did, albeit quite slowly, make it.
That's the latest and the last from out here where
the days are cloudy
the roads muddy
and I am giddy.
Stephen
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Short-Timer
Officially I became a "Short-Timer" this morning as I will leave here (Kibondo) on the 12th to Dar es Salaam and from there on the 15th back to "our fair city". As usual the red-eye special. At least this time it is at midnight rather than the 4 a.m. ones from Khartoum.
Little of note happened this week. Our new technical advisor for this area of the world arrived for a visit. A very nice knowledgeable physician lady from Belgium who has a vast experience working in this part of the world. We took her on a tour of the clinic/hospital facility on Thursday. She agreed with our concerns and, hopefully, we can get some money to improve things out here. That won't happen during my tenure but, at least, there is a chance of it happening.
Now,as I have nothing else to write about, here is a bit about our weather and Thanksgiving.
Yesterday was a return, albeit briefly, to hotter weather. I did enjoy the change but today it is again cloudy and cool. Last night was glorious as a storm slowly came tramping in from the East and slowly spread over the sky. As the sun moved further West and the clouds gave chase, the colors changed dramatically. Streaks of red and bright pink began tickling the bellies of those dark grey-black storm clouds and here and there at the vanguard the clouds piled up as if climbing on each other, just a bit reluctant to pursue the assault against so powerful a foe. As that happened, a bright light illuminated them and they just glistened going from dark black to intense white. Further back bolts of lightening occasionally burst forth and thunder rumbled as if to encourage or perhaps threaten the front line troops to press forward.
We did have our Thanksgiving dinner and it was the same as we had back in Darfur, mainly as we had the same ingredients, tough chicken, potatoes, some stuffing, biscuits and corn muffins. The enjoyable part was that we were really all together for a meal instead of a few drifting in and out which is the usual pattern. The rest of the day I read a bit, put another note on the Blog and answered a few letters. Today I will make up a small protocol on the use of a nebulizer which we found in the storeroom. I am have been waiting for the solution to arrive. Not here yet but, hopefully, this week.
And that's the news from here where
I have become a "short-timer"
And you know you're in trouble
when you can't wait for airplane food.
Stephen
Little of note happened this week. Our new technical advisor for this area of the world arrived for a visit. A very nice knowledgeable physician lady from Belgium who has a vast experience working in this part of the world. We took her on a tour of the clinic/hospital facility on Thursday. She agreed with our concerns and, hopefully, we can get some money to improve things out here. That won't happen during my tenure but, at least, there is a chance of it happening.
Now,as I have nothing else to write about, here is a bit about our weather and Thanksgiving.
Yesterday was a return, albeit briefly, to hotter weather. I did enjoy the change but today it is again cloudy and cool. Last night was glorious as a storm slowly came tramping in from the East and slowly spread over the sky. As the sun moved further West and the clouds gave chase, the colors changed dramatically. Streaks of red and bright pink began tickling the bellies of those dark grey-black storm clouds and here and there at the vanguard the clouds piled up as if climbing on each other, just a bit reluctant to pursue the assault against so powerful a foe. As that happened, a bright light illuminated them and they just glistened going from dark black to intense white. Further back bolts of lightening occasionally burst forth and thunder rumbled as if to encourage or perhaps threaten the front line troops to press forward.
We did have our Thanksgiving dinner and it was the same as we had back in Darfur, mainly as we had the same ingredients, tough chicken, potatoes, some stuffing, biscuits and corn muffins. The enjoyable part was that we were really all together for a meal instead of a few drifting in and out which is the usual pattern. The rest of the day I read a bit, put another note on the Blog and answered a few letters. Today I will make up a small protocol on the use of a nebulizer which we found in the storeroom. I am have been waiting for the solution to arrive. Not here yet but, hopefully, this week.
And that's the news from here where
I have become a "short-timer"
And you know you're in trouble
when you can't wait for airplane food.
Stephen
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