Carl

Jordan came with us to the hospital Monday morning to find out why she was still not getting better. She got lost in a mess of African malaria patients who were waiting for results just like her, only she had an amoeba. We named him Carl. It was Ashley’s first week at the hospital and Naiomi’s last week.

It’s such a rewarding feeling to see patients who have come in with the no hope in their eyes and unpromising wounds coming in now with smiles stretching from ear to ear, giving us high-fives and their wounds making miraculous recoveries.

The week was pleasantly uneventful and we spent most of our nights singing to our favorite Enrique Iglesia song, working out in our hot spandexes, witnessing Rachel attempt to pole dance on Jordan’s bed post then ripping her skirt, giggling at How I Met Your Mother in Jordan’s bed then tickling each other’s backs until we fall asleep. Completely normal behavior.

Friday Rachel and I spent the latter part of the day in the labor ward with Philipo, where we witnessed our second fetal death. The mother and baby had been completely fine a few days before then the mother had felt ill and instead of going to the hospital went to the Duka la Dawa and took malaria medication causing the baby to become hypertensive. The next day she gave birth to a dead child who would have survived if she had just gone to the hospital. I was in charge of cleaning and wrapping the baby up.

We shadowed Philipo in the rest of the check ups and examinations of the women who were already in labor. We took the heart rates of the babies, checked to see how dilated the mothers were and listened to Philipo’s mini medical lectures.

After work Jordan and I went to the roof of Haria Hotel to say our last goodbye to Juli and Pari, the girls from our safari. We then continued on to meet the rest of our group at Deli Chez for Ami, Naiomi and Grace’s goodbye dinner. It’s a bizarre feeling knowing that it may be the last time I’ll ever see these people again.

Saturday morning..ish Jordan, Rachel and I headed up to Marangu to meet up with Craig and the two Dutch girls we had met a while back. Going to Marangu always has it’s share of challenges. After we finally caught a daladala, we were once again hassled into paying four times the amount we should to get there, then squished next to some sort of drug addict who wouldn’t stop touching us while other random body parts were pushing against us from all sides. When we arrived in the pouring rain we were swarmed by the locals trying to convince us to take their taxi.

We made it up to the girl’s house though, and like always, were speechless at the sheer beauty of Mishiri’s rainforest. We enjoyed coffee grown and roasted by their neighbors and freshly roasted peanuts while we waited for the heavy rain to slow enough so we could hike to our campsite.

With our sleeping bags in plastic bags, we set out in the rain. We stopped at random houses, churches, and coverings along the way to rest and avoid the heavier downpour. We reached the campsite drenched and looking like wet rats, where we met up with Craig, Nelson, Nick, Bryson, Kath and Hue. We all had dinner together and laughed as we shared embarrassing stories about Tine (one of the Dutch girls) since it was her birthday. The night also consisted of cake, laughing, dancing, music, laughing, fire, laughing and ended with Jordan, Rachel and I snuggling in our warm dry tent.

The next morning we packed up and then spent an hour hiking all around the mountain trying to find somewhere that was open that had eggs and onions for breakfast. After forty minutes of searching and an additional three hours of cooking without power, we managed to make pancakes, eggs and coffee. It was worth the wait.

Before heading back to Moshi, we stopped at a waterfall. We all just basked in its beauty in silence.
When we got home we all crashed some of us sick and some just tired. Jordan and I have stayed home two days in a row now with fever, aches, amoebas, ring worms, headaches, stomach pains, running noses etc… Hopefully tomorrow we’ll make it to work. If not…it’s more How I Met Your Mother.