Jacaranda has given way to the bright red flame tree flowers, the baobab trees have put on leaves and no longer look bare. The rain which usually falls about now has not come. The villagers in Nsanje have been hoeing their fields, mainly the women but they have not finished doing it. Every morning, lines of women with hoes, baskets, and babies on their backs walk to their fields. In Limbe where there has been some rain, they have already planted their maize seeds and some of them have already sprouted maize seedlings. I also saw a family working together to plant the seeds, the man hoeing, the daughter placed the seeds and the son covered them with soil using a shoe.
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| Flame Tree in Bloom |
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| Woman and Baby to the Field |
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| A Family in the Field |
My Mentorship Program will end at the end of this year instead of the first quarter of next year so I have decided after discussion with the Field Coordinator that I would not come back after the holidays. The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of activities: HIV training for the healthcare facilities, TB/HIV Integration training for Nsanje District, traveling to the East Bank and finishing up reports and rounding in the hospital. Sankhulani still does not have a functional clinic space but my mentor and I managed to find a bucket with a spigot for the HIV Clinic for hand washing.
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| Examining a Patient with Malaria |
I have been itching to leave office work for disaster relief
work. While I have been here I have
missed being sent to the Philippines
for the typhoons, Syrian and the Congo refugees. After a respite at home with my family for
Christmas as everyone will be home for the first time after two years, I will
be heading to the Philippines
for the typhoon-affected people and I hope to visit my family in Penang, Malaysia
on the way. Perhaps when I return I will
plan on going to Lebanon
for the Syrian refugees.
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| The Kids Running with Me |
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| The children Waiting for Me during My Morning Run |
Yesterday the national staff organized a farewell party for me and Kuyvina was brought from Shire House to the party as a surprise. As the party started, rain drops began to fall. One of my mentors gave a nice farewell speech and it was about my not afraid to speak my mind and be open and honest. My last morning in Nsanje I went around in the village giving the children some little presents and biscuits as the rain started to fall.
What I will not miss are the many long tedious meetings which usually do not begin on time and last at least three hours, the numerous reports, monthly, quarterly or whenever reports, the argument about who should have access to the database (I could not care less if I were not given a password, and how does one write a report without access to the database?), the half-hearted or no contribution from the people who work for the Ministry of Health, the perpetual problem of their demands for allowances, the entitlement to them when they are asked to go for training or to collaborate with MSF, the demand for the rights of traveling in a private car with a personal driver by a public servant and of course the entire bill is to be paid by MSF in addition to getting a daily allowance for food, lodging, and stipend...I will not miss seeing a string of chickens being strung on bicycle handle bars upside down and goats tied onto bicycles with bended knees in the most uncomfortable position on their way to the market, with the goats bleating in the most piteous way.
I will miss greeting the Malawians in Chichewa which does not fail to bring a broad and ready smile on their faces, my runs in the village when I feel like the Pied Piper of Hamelin with the children running after me, the children whom I have taught to “high-fiving” with me, Malawians’ habits of interchanging “r”with “l” (for example exactry for exactly, and the guard Alan, asking me, “Doctor, you didn’t do you lun (run) this morning?”), the support national people who take great care of us, my mentors whom I have gotten to know very well and have a great deal of fondness, regards, and respects and I wish them well, the birds that chirp various tunes around Shire House, Roger and Volcano our guard dogs and most of all the Shire House cat, Kuyvina Mavuto.
What I will not miss are the many long tedious meetings which usually do not begin on time and last at least three hours, the numerous reports, monthly, quarterly or whenever reports, the argument about who should have access to the database (I could not care less if I were not given a password, and how does one write a report without access to the database?), the half-hearted or no contribution from the people who work for the Ministry of Health, the perpetual problem of their demands for allowances, the entitlement to them when they are asked to go for training or to collaborate with MSF, the demand for the rights of traveling in a private car with a personal driver by a public servant and of course the entire bill is to be paid by MSF in addition to getting a daily allowance for food, lodging, and stipend...I will not miss seeing a string of chickens being strung on bicycle handle bars upside down and goats tied onto bicycles with bended knees in the most uncomfortable position on their way to the market, with the goats bleating in the most piteous way.
I will miss greeting the Malawians in Chichewa which does not fail to bring a broad and ready smile on their faces, my runs in the village when I feel like the Pied Piper of Hamelin with the children running after me, the children whom I have taught to “high-fiving” with me, Malawians’ habits of interchanging “r”with “l” (for example exactry for exactly, and the guard Alan, asking me, “Doctor, you didn’t do you lun (run) this morning?”), the support national people who take great care of us, my mentors whom I have gotten to know very well and have a great deal of fondness, regards, and respects and I wish them well, the birds that chirp various tunes around Shire House, Roger and Volcano our guard dogs and most of all the Shire House cat, Kuyvina Mavuto.
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| My Mentors and Me at the East Bank |
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| Roger and Me |
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| Kuyvina and Me |
And so I bid farewell to Nsanje, tsalani bwino!
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