We need each other: Arts and Science

I ran across this TEDx talk, and it nicely encompassed a lot of what I find fascinating, beautiful, and worthwhile in this world.  If you're an artist or a scientist or somewhere in between or on the fringes, this is worth watching in its entirety.

In the meantime, I'm sitting in my lovely Tanzanian home, worrying about returning to the US and all the job related stresses and general demands that I will face.  So instead of addressing work ahead of time, I'm cooking candied orange peels, making cinnamon rolls from scratch, and following an assortment of links that friends have posted on facebook.  Fortunately for me, the vast majority of my friends are lovers of arts, sciences, or most often both.  

(About TEDx, x = independently organized event

In the spirit of ideas worth spreading, TEDx is a program of local, self-organized events that bring people together to share a TED-like experience. At a TEDx event, TEDTalks video and live speakers combine to spark deep discussion and connection in a small group. These local, self-organized events are branded TEDx, where x = independently organized TED event. The TED Conference provides general guidance for the TEDx program, but individual TEDx events are self-organized.* (*Subject to certain rules and regulations))

The Effectiveness of Medical Equipment Donations

I finally have a professional paper published in a field that I think I may continue working in for years to come!

The prompting to do this research came from the first non-volunteer job I had out of college, which was to collect and compile revisions to the World Health Organization's Guidelines for Medical Equipment Donations.  Now, a year and a half later, I have finally gotten in gear enough to publish my findings.  The WHO, on the other hand, is still distributing their Guidelines from 2000 while the 2010 revisions are mired in red tape.

So despite what you might have heard, it is not entirely true that 70% of all medical equipment in the developing world is out of service.

Here's my short editorial to finally answer the question:  How Much Medical Equipment is Broken in the Developing World?

(The link will take you to the abstract.  To read the entire paper, click the link "Download PDF" just below the image of the journal cover)

Thinking about Sustainability

It's been more than 6 months since I've written, so the sustainability of this blog is questionable.  However, I'm still doing the work I've been doing for the last year and a half, so that seems to be sustaining well for now.  In fact, I've been hired full time to work with a combination of the Summer Institute and Technician Training Program in Rwanda/Cambodia.  But that's not the point.

The point is sustainability, community development, empowerment, and real change.  These are all really fancy buzz words thrown around by the global health community, among others. But what does it look like?

I've come to the point in my life where I'm realizing that I am capable of doing/changing/acting on these things I've learned about, agreed on, and even taught others about.  I'm at the point where I have no excuse to not tithe.  When I choose to drive to work instead of ride my bike, it really is me choosing to "exempt" myself from saving the planet or our oil supplies that day.  (If I'm generous, about 1 in 5 of those trips are actually justified).

So the same thing should be applied to my work and goals for contributing to sustainable development.  I strongly believe in the idea of "teaching a man to fish" over "giving a fish."  Hopefully my work with the curriculum in Rwanda is contributing to that style of aid.  But I still wonder if we aren't coming in as the Westerners who know everything and are going to tell "them" how to change their systems.  At this point in the game, we are trying to get the process rolling to transfer ownership of the program to our partners in-country. Keep praying that we will communicate clearly, listen well, and that they would be enthusiastic to train the people who will most help the hospitals (not just engineers who want the prestige and a cushy desk job).


On the other side, we are preparing for another summer with our students in Tanzania and Central America.  This will be my second year taking a group of students, and my third visit to the Kilimanjaro region.  When I start thinking about sustainability with this program, I come up with two questions:

1) How is this program contributing to forward movement and development of better health care for the patients in that region? And how do we encourage (instead of hinder) the development of individuals and organizations who address health care technology year-round?

2) What is sustainable for me, personally?

Jibu ya Kwanza(1): (Because I miss Kiswahili, too)

I can answer part of the sustainability thing, and the answer is YES! The main point, that many of us miss sometimes, is to expose and educate more people about the problems that exist and some of our ideas about solutions.  Smart people.  Engineering type people. Change the world type people.
At least that is the goal.
Watching my students figure out what is really going on, as opposed to what we think we know is going on, is incredible.  It changes them in the same way it changed me.  The truth isn't always pretty, but the truth has the power to change us (okay divinity students: go!).
And since these are students from a population (engineers) that is rather underrepresented, they each can make a big difference. Even if they never set foot in a developing country again, they will bring a new understanding with them to their homes, schools, jobs, and colleagues.  You get the picture.
 But what about encouraging the biomedical industry in the region?  One of our major shortcomings in this respect was brought to my attention last year, as we were winding down the program.
You see, there is already a biomedical workshop in the region.  This biomedical workshop services many of our hospitals already, and does really good work.  In fact, we call them when we can't solve a problem.

The problem is, our services are free and this workshop needs to charge for services in order to be a viable business.  But the hospitals know that we are coming back.  And they know that the workshop will fix something, bill them, and can't do much about non-payment.

It's a catch-22.  Patients need to be treated, and much of the equipment is absolutely vital to their treatment.  Yet any long term solutions have to involve some sort of exchange and this local workshop.  This is also my biggest fear with training technicians: who will pay them to do their work?

This question is really a little too big for me, so I'm going to leave it at that for now.

Jibu ya Pili(2): 

Sustainability for me... The question isn't "what do I want to be when I grow up?" anymore as much as it is "what do I want to be doing with my life right now?"   I'm fortunate in that I'm getting to do things with my life right now that I want to be doing, find meaningful, and see potential in.  But sometimes I get tired of all the travel. Well... all the short travel.
This will be my third trip to Tanzania, and I'm tired of moving around each month.

 

<-- 2009




Same village, same kids, and I still don't know her name...






  2010 -->
I'd like to actually live there instead of visiting for a few short weeks.  I'd like to really learn the language and get to know my neighbors.
But then, I'd also like to go somewhere new.  And I miss my family and community here in the States (which state that is, is another question).
And do I want to keep doing this kind of work, that tends to be largely cerebral and managerial?  Or do I want to be hands on in the machines every day? Or perhaps holding babies and wiping snotty noses every day?
But mostly, I'm tired of moving around so much.  I want to settle there and belong instead of continually being the outsider. And if I'm going to be the outsider, then I might as well go somewhere I haven't seen before and where I don't intimately know the potholes to avoid.  I want to go somewhere the animals' noises still surprise me, and where the smells are foreign and not easily traceable back to a particular dish or particular dump.  Or maybe I do want that kind of familiarity.

And that is the problem, my friends.  

Catch a glimpse...

I have finally updated my flickr page to include all the (adequate) photos I took this summer!  Unfortunately or fortunately, I'd much rather experience life than be continually trying to record it from behind a camera.  I think when we someday can embed a camera lens into our heads, or at least a pair of glasses, then I might take more pictures. Until then, I suppose you can be thankful that my 2.5 months of pictures really isn't as many as it could be. 

Lora's personal photographs: http://www.flickr.com/photos/loraliy/

I started in Tanzania with our Summer Institute students (see the official EWH photos from my students here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/duke_ewh). 

Following 2 months in Arusha and Moshi, Tanzania, I spent a week in Rwanda.  There are also more photos from that coming someday.  We were traveling with a professional filmmaker who was documenting our technician training program, so perhaps there will even be a movie for you to see someday.   I'll post a link here if that ever happens!
Finally, I returned to Europe and spent 6 days in Scandinavia.  First I pretended to be an architecture student in Copenhagen and marveled at the idiosyncrasies of traveling with a very different large group of young adults (compared to my very large group of young adults... also very bizarre at times).  To top it all off, I spent 2 wonderful days resting, listening, unloading, and just being with my grandparents in Oslo. 

Thank you to everyone who sent emails, notes, phone calls, in person conversations, smiles, and even those who helped me to 'be a bigger person' when the situation called for it. 

Lifelong confusion.... (or, "Why my Daddy is cooler than yours")

Just the other day I was talking with a friend of mine who does technical theater sometimes, about how if he goes to a show and there are no seats, he'll just watch from the lightbox.  I realized that I too, find it rather strange if I don't  go backstage after a concert as opposed to those who see going backstage as a rare opportunity. (Don't worry -- I still think it's fun, just not so rare).

That conversation, interactions with people who superficially may have had a similar childhood to mine, and this wonderful holiday called father's day have all met in my list of things that make my daddy cooler than yours.  Or at least, reasons why I'm glad I didn't have a different one that would have left me more "normal."

• My definition of the word "concert:" Sometimes people ask the question, "what was your first concert?"  Inevitably, this leaves me quite confused, since they're most likely asking when I first went to see someone like the Rolling Stones, Jack Johnson, or even Backstreet Boys (oh yes, I liked them).  Of course, my first memories of concerts involve classical music like the 1812 overture being played by the symphony while we sit outside with Oreos and sparkling grape juice, waiting for the cannons to go off. Or something like the Yuletide celebration (which leads to the fact that I think tap-dancing Santas are the way Santa is supposed to be....) with moonlighting opera singers narrating something like the 12 days of Christmas while being pulled across the stage on a fake sleigh with fake snow.  The best ones, though, where the concerts where Daddy wasn't even playing.  Like when he took just me to see Andre Watts play George Gershwin on a sparkling blue piano with mother of pearl stars. Or when he took me to see Maureen McGovern and then bought the CD.  Or the time Flash Cadillac played with the ISO and we got the CD with tracks that still show up on my iPod.  You get the picture. 

• My idea of a good vacation: Daddy is a big fan of road trips.  I'm not talking about the ones where you drive 2 hours to a cute little cabin in the woods.  I'm talking about the one where you take 3 or more children, at least 2 adults and drive from Indiana to Wyoming, pass through Nebraska and South Dakota, and camp along the way.  Yes. Camp in tents on the ground. Funny thing is, I still think hotel beds are rather uncomfortable compared to a good thermarest mattress and a sheepskin.  Turns out the ability to self entertain and drive for 6-8 hours in a day has turned out to be a huge advantage this summer while I'm traipsing all around Northern Tanzania.  

• Motorcycles: I could make this an entire blog post in itself, for now I'll stick to the fact that my first idea of a motorcycle involved 3 wheels.  I also thought that all sidecars had been modified to fit three children and a week's worth of camping gear.  (Turns out, most people only put 1 person in their sidecar).  I also have a very healthy view of motorcycle drivers as the ever so infamous 'organ donors.' According to my dad, every motorcycle driver should be trained in an official safety course, wear full-face helmets at all times, wear gloves, leather or denim pants and tops,  and boots that protect the ankles.   I also happen to have a full repository of stories about motorcycle mishaps (from all the other people my dad knows, of course), which helps out with those who think that bikes are risk-free.

• The value of Research: Daddy knows the value of good research.  Whether it's a new (used) car, computer, ways to get good gas mileage, or the best camping spot in the most remote campground in North Carolina, Daddy is not going to go into a decision uninformed.  Even if I thought it completely useless at the time, I often do end up with somewhat useful information someday (some of those days have yet to come, I admit). 

• Finally -- Good Hard Work: Practicing, maintaining the cars, or even his funny exercises on the kitchen floor.  Even if he's not perfect, he does his absolute best as well he knows.  Even though I'd say I turned out a little confused on some points, I wouldn't trade him in.

Love you, Daddy!

We talk too much.

Somebody help me out here... but I think part of our problem in the US is that we talk too much and work too little.  We take great joy in putting together websites, talking about our dreams, affirming ourselves, and talking about what's wrong with this world (this is where the finger gets pointed right back at me... oh dear).

Before I left for Tanzania (in fact, for the last 6 months or more) I've had serious trouble sleeping.  My regular schedule for sleep seems to start at 2 or 3am and go until 11am the next day.  I've never been a morning person, but it was just ridiculous.  I'd pay money to get exercise at the gym, and would get on my bike to ride a few miles "just for fun."

In contrast, I have not yet had any trouble sleeping since I arrived in Tanzania 2 weeks ago.  Until this morning, I would wake up at 6am naturally (we'll attribute that to the roosters/dogs/cats/small children/cars/general brouhaha) and sleep again until the alarm went off.  Walking 20 minutes or more is a given every day, passing people carrying large loads, cutting grass by hand with a machete, and lots and lots of mamas with their little mototo (baby) bundles on their backs.  The biggest difference?  People here don't complain.  

There's a great term in Kiswahili: pole.  It means sorry... but more in the 'sorry for you' meaning.  So when someone comes home from work, you say the regular greetings but also, "pole," I'm sorry for all your hard work. Or you see someone struggling along the street, working hard... and a general greeting plus "pole" is perfectly acceptable.  And the response?  Thanks. That's all.  We acknowledge others' hard work but after that it's just a fact of life. 

For those of you who know me or see me on a regular basis, this is my goal: to accept the pain, the struggle, and the hard work without whining.  Because in reality, it's a fact of life and we are often missing out on life if we miss out on the pain and hard work.

(Additional insight into this is the book I've been reading titled "The Gift of Pain" by Paul Brand, an MD who worked in India and primarily with leprosy patients, who have no pain and that is their problem.  A fascinating and thought provoking reading for those interested in the science and those interested in life and people in general. I'll try to bring my copy back to the US to lend.)

I sometimes forget that I'm an introvert...

Today was one of my reminder days. That's not to say I'm not happy -- I'm ecstatic that the students have all finally arrived, we only lost 2 bags, and they're excitedly beginning their Swahili courses and technical labs.

I spent the last week in Tanzania by myself mostly, connecting with some friends and meeting interesting people along the way in Dar es Salaam, Morogoro, and then back here at TCDC in Arusha. I flew from Dar to Arusha, arriving just after the sunset and was greeted by the sweet, sweet air of the African plains. Breathe deep, look up, and it's a whole different world. The sky has never been so big and stars have never been so clear. The feelings of coming home rushed back and were affirmed by the taxi driver who received a phone call, "are you bringing my daughter to me??"

As we drove the straight, flat road across the plains and under the stars I had to remind myself that this familiarity, this comfort was going to be completely new to the students coming in the next two days.

I stayed at the training center for 1 and a half days before the students arrived, and I was impatient as anything. The teachers here (many of whom recognized me!!!) laughed as I paced and checked my watch over and over again. Finally we had them all here -- bleary eyed, excited, and all together.

The excitement of beginning the program, of showing them the new place and surroundings, of watching them absorb the language, the people, the plants, and the animals (oh, the animals)incredible.

But now, after a full day of interaction, getting to know, and learning more about each student (there is still much more to learn), I am content, overwhelmed, happy, and exhausted. So now I remind myself to take some alone time, leave them to learn things on their own, and make sure to find a pace we can maintain for the next two months.