Halfway Home

Well we've reached the halfway point of our trip, and I think everyone in our program is about ready to leave. Walking home from eating one night we all just decided that Botswana is no longer welcoming. The people who were once seemingly friendly and interested in our culture now just piss us off. Everywhere we go, people stare and no doubt judge us as Americans. I've even had one of our dying HIV patients ask me when President Bush is leaving. Oh, OK well I guess that should be your main concern right now! I’m thinking we’ve all just reached the point where the honeymoon is over and hopefully will get over it soon.

The work at the hospice has slowed down as of late. I've done very little but take vital signs and try to talk to patients who don't understand a word of English. The hospice as an organization is unbelievably inefficient. There is never any rush to do things, patients always have to wait to be seen because of lack of transport, and as of now there is no nurse on staff. Yep, that's right no nurse and no doctor. My medical education has just been expedited. Apparently, on Friday our nurse decided the staff was doing such a good job he needed to take a one-month leave starting Monday. Are you kidding me?! First, no manager in his or her right mind accepts a request a day before the leave is to start, when you have no one else to fill that position. Secondly, are you kidding me? Not only that, but the nurse just up and left without telling any of the other nursing staff members. Starting tomorrow, I will be one of two other people (a nurse's aide and a nursing student) who will have to take care of 20 critically ill patients. I'm sorry, but I was planning on coming to Africa to play God after I get my medical degree.

Finally, during one of the down periods at work, one of the social workers took me to the dumping grounds of the poor area in town. It is basically a huge landfill, but it’s packed with literally hundreds of people, hanging out, cooking, or scouring the grounds for leftover food. I seriously felt like I was at a refugee camp, as people approached us constantly asking for help. Our purpose there was to find kids who were skipping school and tell them to go get an education and also to find children for the local orphanage. At one point, we were offered dump food from a child who couldn't have been more than 10. Of course the picky eater I am I took it and ate it (later to spit it out) because the social worker wanted to build a trust with the child so that later he could register the kid in the orphanage. It was probably the most eye opening experience I've had here to date.