May 3rd

Ellen and I made the brave 80 kilometer journey to the Mufumbwe Boma (the down town of Ellen's district). I went to the hospital to inquire about volunteering or shadowing in an African hospital. The chief nursing officer appeared to be very excited and said that he would contact me by the end of the day. Ellen told me not to get my hopes up since it is Zambia and people work at their own pace. It is 2000 and still no phone call. I have found this to be the standard of practice in Zambia. Zambians will tell you what they think you want to hear to make you happy not what they actually want or what they will actually do. This results in miscommunications and minimal progress. 

May 2nd

Today we hitched back to Nyansonso from Solwezi. The hitch was very uneventful. I got to ride on a tire tractor for 2.5 hours. The children from Nyansonso ran to the truck as we were being dropped off to grab all of our bags and lug them back to Ellen's hut. A very small five year old was carrying my very large Osprey backpack; she was struggling under the weight of it, but shooed away anyone wanting to help. All I could see from my vantage point was my pack and two feet shuffling forward. She hulled my pack the 100 meters to the door of Ellen's hut with happy determination. Ellen and I swiftly got unpacked then went outside to play with the children. We played football with a ball made from a condom, plastic, and yarn. It worked surprisingly well, that is until the condom popped and they had to unravel the yarn and plastic to replace the broken condom. I fear that the majority of condoms used in this village are for footballs and not for safe sex.

While we were gone this weekend for the cost of ten dollars two village men build Ellen and I a mud brick bathing shelter. We no longer have to bath in view of all her villagers! We are high class now!!

The big excitement for the children came when I brought out the nail polish. I think I painted more fingernails bubble gum pink in 30 minutes than I have in my entire life. The majority of which were boys. It was rather funny to see flashes of bright pink on all of the children’s fingernails as they played. The paint did not last long on most children. One little two year old boy named Jeravy (he's my boyfriend) promptly stuck his fingers in his mouth and began chewing off the paint. He had little specks of pink paint all over his mouth and stuck in the river of snot coming from his nose.

Ellen and my excitement for the day came when the children brought us to see kabwas pichache or puppies!!! There were two litters of puppies in the village! They were adorable and quite noisy for their small size. The children found it hilarious that we were talking to and playing with the puppies. Dogs are viewed more as pests than anything else in the village. They are typically malnourished, covered with flees, and what I think are ticks or at least the African version of ticks and kicked/ beaten frequently. Ellen and I both cringe whenever we hear the sad yelp of the dog being kicked. But I suppose the people here do not have the luxury of having "pets".

May 1st

Ellen and I stay at her boyfriend’s house when we visit Solwezi. It feels like I am living in the lap of luxury; there is a flush toilet, a refrigerator, a hot plate, and a television, oh and monster sized rats that have domestic disputes above my head every night. I go to sleep praying that the aged leaking dry wall that separates me from the rodents holds and if that fails I pray that the misquote net will impede their ability to snuggle with me at night. So far there have been no unwelcome guests in my bed at night.

Did I mention that he also has a bath tub (no shower). Don’t yet too excited; this bath tub is used by six miners so it is constantly covered in a thick grimy slime. I think actually feel more dirty post bathing (which is saying something). For all of those concerned about my hygiene in the village I actually bath more in Africa than I do in the States.

April 30th

Ellen, Leanne, and I walked down to the market in Solwezi to get veggies and more chitenges (2 meters of material used as skirts, towels, backpacks, baby slings, curtains, etc. in the village). If you have never been to a market in a 3rd world country it can be quite an experience. There are many different smells, sounds, and sights; you can go into sensory overload. I recommend avoiding the fish section even in the cold season the fish stench hangs and saturates the air; you can taste it. There are vendors selling cups, bowls, flip-flops, vinyl flooring, chickens, cloth, oils, veggies, beer, and pre-own clothes (the list goes on). My personal favorites are the piles of caterpillars for sale; they are considered a treat in Zambia. I did have the fortunate experience of trying some; they were crunchy and kind of tasted like fish. Yum

April 29th

Today I was attached to the toilet. Oh joy! Note to self I should not eat red meat.

April 28

I have to take a moment to about the fact that Ellen and I baked a pumpkin cake over coals and it did not burn! And then we made orange glazed soya chucks, amazing! For those unfamiliar with soya chunks they are processed soy protein that look and taste like a sponge.  My outdoor culinary skills are improving.

Ellen, Leanne, and I hitched into town today. Spent the 2.5 hour drive in the back of a pick-up truck with a load of pumpkins singing any song we could remember at the top of our lungs. I lost my voice, but it was totally worth it. 

April 27

Today started much the same way the previous days did; going to fetch water in a cloud of children laughing and grasping our hands, washing the previous days dishes and washing our laundry. Ellen and I decided to go for a walk down the road. As usual we were stopped frequently to greet everyone we met on the road. I believe I successfully did not call anyone relish today although I did mess up the customary hand shake and clap. We walked about five kilometers and I did not see any wildlife besides butterflies and flies. Apparently the villagers will kill any animals that are in the area and eat them so there are literally no birds or monkeys or rodents around.

Ellen, Leanne (another PeaceCorps volunteer), and I visited the clinic this afternoon. The clinic is staffed by a single nurse. She is expected to work 6 days a week for 8 hours a day. Her house is located directly behind the clinic so if the clinic is not open and the villagers have an emergency they will knock on her door. This particular day she had been up all night with a laboring mother and is now taking care of a patient with bacterial meningitis and malaria. The blatant differences between health care in the US and in Africa were expected but are still shocking.  The nurse assesses, diagnoses, and treats patients completely independently; she will determine whether she can manage the patient in town or if they need to be shipped the 80km to the Boma for further treatment. I witnessed a patient come into the clinic describe several symptoms then leave with several pills in hand; no medical tests or physical examination were completed. The patient was in and out in 10 minutes.

The nurse and I discussed at the length the biggest challenges in providing healthcare in the village. The main one being that there is no accountability among the villagers to take responsibility for their own health.  Villagers will only seek out help once there is already a problem they will not take the appropriate measures to prevent disease or illness. For example surrounding the village is very tall grass which encourages the reproduction of mosquitos. The village has been educated over and over again that by slashing the grass it will reduce the mosquito levels and therefore reduce the incidence of malaria, but the grass is still there and villagers are still getting malaria.

 Secondly there is very little prenatal/antenatal care offered and perused by the villagers. Ideality pregnant women would come to the clinic to have their blood sugar monitored, blood pressure checked, weighed, obtain prenatal vitamins, screened for anemia,  and height of fundus measured. In reality the clinic has no blood pressure cuff (I did bring one with me), no measuring tape, no glucometer, no ability to measure hemoglobin, and rarely have a consistent supply of prenatal vitamins. The lack of supplies and ability to perform the necessary tests instills a sense of doubt and mistrust among the villagers with the clinics ability to provide effective care.  Furthermore there is very little record keeping or documentation of care given. The nurse, who has only be stationed for 3 months, has no record of women’s past medical history, how many pregnancies, miscarriages, and live births a women has had, or who is pregnant in the village. My tentative goal at the moment is to gather this information for the nurse so that she can submit the demographics to the government to hopefully receive funding for better prenatal care. Although I am not sure how to make this sustainable; I am afraid that once I leave there will be no one to gather this information and it is highly unlikely the culture among the women will change and they will miraculous become forthcoming with this information.  Any ideas or suggestions on this would be greatly appreciated.