The last post pertains to Zanzibar, but in a short week's time, we've had classes and done a 2 day safari to Ngorongoro crater and Tarangire national park. The animals were incredible and the landscape even more so. But my intent right now is to write a little bit about life here at TCDC. The safari gave me a good deal of time to think, and it was great, but mostly I'll just have pictures.
Today was quite a long day. First of all, our Kiswahili classes only have one week remaining, so we are attempting to cram as much into each class as possible. Unfortunately, that means that I am reaching a saturation point and I don't necessarily retain concepts from day to day. It's a little bit (okay, a lot of bit) frustrating. This morning we had a very good explanation of subjunctives, then slogged through a conversation between a doctor, technician, and engineer at the hospital. I have enough trouble remembering technical terms in English, much less the huge variety of words in Swahili that I don't have to use at home at all - meaning they are not reinforced in any way. On the other hand, this is just Monday. I've got all week to master the language! .....(hopeless sigh)......
Afternoon lab was quite exciting, to say the least. Today we learned about electrosurgery units (ESUs). The basic concept is that a current is sent through the very small tip of the pen, often known as a bovie pen, and dispersed to a huge plate underneath the patient. This creates a great deal of heat disappation right at the tip of the pen, which is what cuts or cauterizes. There are a few variations on this, but we got to try it out today... Imagine 22 engineering students in a room, huddled around a single large chicken leg, uncooked of course. We have an ESU that is to be donated, but instead of using the included tips, we've just made one out of a piece of wire. The two students running the demonstration at first were very carefully, cautiously turning up the power while the more testosterone driven students kept goading them to 'turn it all the way up!' Finally, we did get the power going enough to effectively cut the chicken, emitting the smell of burning flesh and the opportunity for us to tattoo the poor drumstick with anything and everything. All in all, it was incredibly entertaining and just one more reminder that I would probably find it very enjoyable to do surgeries. Though hopefully, I'll have practice on many more dead pieces of meat before having to cut into a live person. Don't worry - I'm not considering tattooing as a profession.
Even with all the fun in lab, we managed to get out significantly early, so many of us decided to take the opportunity to visit "Cradle of Love: baby home," which is just down the road from TCDC. I think many people echoed my sentiment of having wanted to visit the home since we arrived, but the solid steel gate and high walls were somewhat intimidating, along with the posted hours that weren't very complementary to our schedule. But despite it all, we mustered up the courage to knock and enter, only to find a beautifully manicured lawn, large newly-built house, and well kept gardens. We were directed around the back of the house, where about 4 young women from the US, Britain, and Canada, were giving out bottles and tending to squirming little bundles on a blanket on the lawn. I walked forward under the laundry hanging to dry, and one little guy ran up with arms outstretched to be held - an instant welcome. We were also welcomed by the staff and volunteers, though I think they may have been a little bit overwhelmed by the nearly 10 people who showed up. It was so refreshing to sit on the lawn, holding small children, laughing, playing, and reveling in their joy at just being cuddled. One little one, Vivian, was lying down and didn't seem as aware as her counterparts. Turns out she was blind and mentally disabled. And so to give her just as much love as those who could reach out and ask, I rocked and sang to her for the rest of the afternoon. Of course, children are no respectors of occupied laps, so at one point I was a jungle gym for three little squirmers. It was beautiful.
Along with watching the children, it was rather entertaining for me to watch how the young guys in our group interacted with the babies. Some definitely had more comfort level than others, and I even got a little glimpse into which ones may be putting up more of a strong face than is there when we're just students together. Come about dinner time, children started crying and we brought them all inside, most of the group scattering (some out of panic?) to get out of the way. Katie and I asked if it would be helpful for us to stay, and we were handed bowls of oatmeal and spoons. I was surprised to see how fast the children shoveled their food in, and even that they could eat so much! The home is very well run, at least as far as we could tell from one afternoon. It is supported wholly by donations, many from the director's church and the US. I can imagine that it is difficult at times, though, when volunteers are scarce or donations run low. Even with a mass of people there, arms were still too few to hold all the little ones - it was par for the course to hear someone crying for attention or frustration. On the other hand, it was very neat to see them interacting with each other. Friendships and conflicts seemed well established, like having 29 brothers and sisters under the same roof. I'm rather glad I don't have quite so many.
Katie and I stayed around long enough to occupy the thoroughly grubby children, handing off the last ones to bathe, and tearing ourselves away from the ones sitting in swings or playpens unattended and tearful. This feeling of helplessness for them, knowing that money won't do half as much as someone to hold them each and listen to their little stories and first words, is exactly why I promised not to return to the states with a child in tow. But overall, I'm so glad we went. This was probably one of the more real reminders as to why I'm here. Even while we were there, a couple of the children were throwing up from some sort of unknown stomach bug, while a few others were struggling through Malaria. In that case, money and resources do help... so I won't promote a complete abandonment of fundraising and beneficence. But I will remind myself and others that this isn't just something to go hold the cute African babies and feel good about yourself with a cute picture. These are children with lives that could change the world if given the chance. And even those that will never make it far from their seat where they must be spoon fed for the rest of their lives, they are precious gems to be loved and cared for as much as the next.
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