Monday, August 30, 2010

My Day, Friday, Pie Day!

August 28, 2010 4:14 PM

Still sitting here at the airport…can I finish up Friday before I leave for the states?


 

August 27, 2010

Friday's morning wake-up call came a little bit earlier than I would have liked, though I made it out the door ready for clinic (and having thrown a load in the wash) on time. I called home via skype, but nobody answered. It was okay…but I was hoping that later in the afternoon I'd be able to make one final call home.

My last day of clinic was rather appropriate. I was working with Dr. Patel in the FMC (Family Medicine Clinic), and as we started I commented to her that I was finishing the way I started (my first day was at the clinic was with her as well). As a former feature story writer, I appreciated things that come full circle, and this was no exception. We set to work on what was to be probably the longest clinic day since I had been there.

And there were only 9 patients! However, as Dr. Patel and I talked about, the patients in FMC are so random. They often tend to be come sequentially from opposite ends of the spectrum. By this I mean that one will be easy, adherent, cooperative, and quick, whereas the next will take FOREVER and has more problems than the SAT Math section. Seriously, one would take fifteen minutes, and then one would take an hour.

About 12:30 we went and pulled the chart for who I thought would be my last patient at the clinic…Wisper (yes, and brothers Honor and Prince and Aunt Dear). She had essentially been a 'problem child for a looooong time." She had a young baby and was not taking her meds well. Yet somehow, thanks be to God, her aunt was able to talk to her prior to this appointment, and every since then she was at 100% for her medication adherence.

We still spent a good amount of time with her, but it was essentially congratulating, encouraging, and celebrating her change in attitude. It was a great visit, and as she walked out the door I thought she was a great last patient to have…

But then there was one more. A patient who insisted she was taking her meds but in reality had been hiding them and not being compliant. We started with this young woman at 1 PM. Needless to say, I was a bit frustrated. We could not get her to talk to us, but eventually she admitted to the hiding of the meds and was able to talk about how we could try to ensure that she take the meds in the future. It took a lot of silent pauses and patience on Dr. Patel's part, and about an hour of time, but as the patient left we felt better about her situation and hoped that she would be better off at the next visit.

Finally done with our last patient at about 2:30 PM, I spoke with Dr. Patel for a bit, asked her if she would be willing to write me a recommendation letter (which she said she would…Whoop!), and then headed out to try to get some things done. I was starving, and I figured I could try to knock out lunch and some souvenir shopping before daily Mass for the feast day of St. Monica (who is AWESOME, btw). Her feast day is the day before her son, St. Augustine, who converted to the Catholic faith after a long search for the Truth and then became a doctor of the Church. St. Augustine's feast day is August 28, which just happens to be my Mommy's birthday….

Coincidence?….I think not.

In any case, what was initially a trip to try to find some souvenirs became a food trek. As I entered the mall, I realized a lot of booths were already closing. Also, since it was payday, the lines for all of the ATM's (which I needed as I was short on cash) were super long. That being the case, I decided I'd return in the morning to buy some souvenirs when the booths were open again. However, I was still hungry! I stopped at Monate Nate's Pie Time, where I ordered a spinach and cheese pie. Then, as I walked down the mall, I decided that I'd do a study comparing Pie Time with Pie City, another pie place just a ways down the Mall.

I arrived at Pie City and ordered the same (after consuming the first pie, of course.) The following is my take on which is better.

The pastry pocket of the pie is a bit flakier at Pie City. Also, the pies there contain a much larger amount of filling. However, based on the fact that the price is 20% more than Pie Time, and the fact that they were so busy that they didn't take the time to reheat my pie all the way through (the center spinach and cheese, though stuffed, was lukewarm at best) make me a believer in PIE CITY! Then, after consuming both pies, I decided to return to Pie Time to try one more pie (yes that makes three…leave me alone!)

I arrived there and couldn't decide what to try…

"What would you like, sir?"

"Umm, I haven't decided yet."

Five minutes later…

"What would you like sir?"

"What's the best pie?"

"Uhhh…the steak and kidney sir."

"Ummm, okay. What's the second best pie?"

"The chicken peri-peri."

"Oh, I've had that before…I'll just take a chili Russian."

This essentially amounted to a sausage with spices wrapped in pastry. It was great, though I hope I didn't offend the lady by shooting down the steak and kidney pie….but come on…kidneys?

After STUFFING myself completely (seriously any weight I might have lost during the first week when I ate a peanut butter sandwich for lunch and dinner is completely earned back), I headed back to the clnic. I was able to talk to Ali and John-Paul and my dad one last time before heading back to the States. While doing so, some of the PAC doctors told me that they were all going out for Jay's birthday to a party held at a house the Marines (friends of the docs I had met the night before) party and then to a bar called "Bull and Bush." Happy to spend my last night with friends, I got Jay's number and made a note to call him later on. I checked a couple emails, sent a couple more, and then headed out to the Cathedral for Mass.

After Mass ended, I stayed around for a bit to take some pictures, then headed back home as the sun began to set. As I made the trek back, I texted Jay, who informed me that a group was also going to Rodizio, a Brazilian Steakhouse at the Mall. He offered a ride, and since he was coming at just before 7 I ran home to try to pack as much as possible before going out for the night.

True to Gabs form, Jay was just a bit later than expected, which allowed me to pack even more. We headed to Riverwalk Mall, upstairs above where Chrissy and I had enjoyed Indian food a couple weeks prior. As with most Brazilian steakhouses, this place had an option where you essentially got to eat all the meat you wanted. Since it was only 20 dollars, I figured it to be worth it. As I sat with Jay, some of the PAC docs, and Jay's brother and sister, Hester and Naomi, I prepared to feast.

There was pretty much more meat than I could have handled! Beef, lamb, chicken, pork…all in various shapes and sizes, and offered to you until you said "Please have mercy my heart can only take so much!" It was great food, and perhaps the most protein-rich meal I've had since arriving here. The meat, accompanied by a Portuguese beer suggested by the waiter, made for a great meal.

After singing for Jay and ordering him a slice of birthday cake, we headed out of the restaurant at about 9 PM and over to the Marines' House. After walking around for a bit, I felt almost like I was in America again. Nearly all of the people at the house and outdoor bar were Americans, and after playing a game of pool with Jay while Nickelodeon played on the big screen TV, the feeling of home was simply reinforced. We stayed for about an hour or so, and then decided it was time to head out and explore "Bull and Bush."

Arriving there, Jay informed me that this was where locals and ex-pats come to have fun together. I wasn't having fun at first, because though it looked like a fun place, they were charging a 50 pula (7 dollar) cover. For anyone reading this outside of Texas, Texans do NOT like cover. And when you pay cover, you assume that you are going to get something for the money you spend, be it entertainment or cheap drinks on the other side. However, that night we were paying cover for what we discovered was "Whistle Party 2010."

Ohhh, myyyy, goodness! The whistles were the most annoying thing I've ever heard in my life. Although we stayed and danced for about an hour, the whistles were just beyond belief. As we left the bar (a little earlier than Jay, who wanted to stay for longer as it was his birthday), I commented to the docs giving me a ride home that they really should have charged cover to get OUT of the bar, as they could have made more money that way. In any case, we were all glad to be heading home. After arriving home, I spent the next hour and a half organizing clothes and other things I had brought to Africa. I packed as much as I could until about 1:30 AM, where my sleepiness and my satisfaction with the progress I had made met and allowed me to go to bed for the night.

It was my last night in Gabs, and the following day would be my trip home! Though it wouldn't be without a bit of a story and a bit more of a hectic rush!


 

Why they call it Main Mall

Thursday, August 26, 2010 3:15 PM

Sniff…sob…okay maybe just sniff…but today was my LAST day in the pediatric side of the clinic. Though my last day in the COE is not until tomorrow, I will be working in the family medicine clinic and seeing adults and HOPEFULLY a couple of babies.

The morning was like any other prior to getting to clinic. I showered, got dressed, and grabbed the coffee packets and sugar I had snagged at the Chobe lodge on my way out the door. I arrived in time to talk to Ali again for maybe twenty minutes, then wished her goodnight and was off to work.

Today I worked again with Dr. Brianna, and the kids were really fun, more fun than usual even. A couple had issues here and there, but for the most part all of them were pretty on target with where they should be. I was able to see one child be initiated on HAART, which isn't all that common thanks to the success of the PMTCT (prevention of mother-to-child transmission) program (most of the kids here are older and acquired HIV before the current protocol for PMTCT). This patient had some social issues that were not resolved on a previous visit (which I was present for), but everything was set up nicely today and he was started on meds!

Next came a few kids who made it very apparent why being able to treat pediatric HIV is so awesome. First was a young girl who had not been diagnosed with HIV until she was 16 years old. She had a really bad case of ringworm on her face and head that made someone suspicious enough to run an HIV test, and subsequent tests of her CD4+ cell count (which should be at LEAST 300 15% for her) revealed her count was at 11 and 1%. That's BAD. Fortunately she was started on therapy and her viral load is now undetectable while her CD4 count is gradually recovering. Success!

Our final patient was a young boy who was supposed to be patient #23 for the day. He had arrived at 7:30 in the morning by himself, but then went outside to the play area and was having so much fun running around and playing games that he forgot to come back in until about 12:30! By that point, he was the last of the 45 patients to be seen for the day. He was a joy to see though, with a lot of energy, friendly nature, etc. Perhaps the most remarkable thing to think about was the fact that this kid was being treated for HIV but was so healthy that he almost missed his appointment as he played outside the clinic. That is EXACTLY the way it's supposed to be, not just with HIV patients, but with all patients in the field of pediatrics. It was an excellent microcosm of what the field is all about, as far as I'm concerned. And if I misused the word microcosm, then whatever: I'm going into pediatrics, I'm not supposed to use big words around my patients anyway…

After clinic finished up I decided that I finally needed to make my way over to Main Mall during the middle of the day rather than at night when it's dead. I walked out and past Princess Marina, beyond the Cathedral, and into the Mall area. And today I realized why it's called a mall. There were booths, vendors, about 10 different tables set up with cafeteria style food, and music, all in open air and under umbrellas or those collapsible outdoor "gazebos" if you will. First I pretty much just walked up and down the Mall, looking at the different booths and seeing what they had to sell. There were statues, jewelry, paintings, shoes, jerseys, candy, phone cards, wood-carvings, dresses, clothing, etc. Nearly every sort of souvenir you could want, if the price was right.

As I reached the end of the Mall area and prepared to turn around, a voice I didn't know said hello to me. The next minute, I was talking briefly to Ricky from Zimbabwe, an economics student looking for work in Gaborone to pay for school. We talked for just a few moments about what each of us was doing in Gabs, then he asked me if I had ever seen a one trillion dollar bill from Zimbabwe. Of course I hadn't, and he pulled one out to show me. I didn't know if it was real, if the currency is pretty much worthless there, etc. Obviously I needed to read up on my world news. Regardless, I thought it was interesting and asked if I could take a picture of it. He told me that I could and then said I could have it if I wanted, if I could just give him some coins for it. I asked how many coins, and he said maybe 5 pula. Fine, I thought, whether or not this is counterfeit, worthless, etc, it was worth the essentially 80 cents to be able to keep the souvenir. I gave him all the change in my pocket and told him I had to head back towards work. Then he continued on in the direction he was traveling.

I turned back, ready to peruse some more and buy some food and souvenirs. On my trip back down the mall, I stopped and bought a pair of earrings and a couple necklaces for about 2 dollars each. The earring I had picked out was missing its pair, so the woman asked me to come back in five minutes after she had time to make another. As I continued on, I decided I wanted to try this "pie" place I had seen closed one of my prior evenings in the mall. Making my way through the booths, I walked past a man selling about 14 inch long hot dogs. As I passed, he yelled out "Doggie, sir?" I asked how much, to which replied ten pula, and I told him sure but that I'd be back in a minute. At this point I decided that I'd have both the a pie and a hot dog for lunch…that way, if one of them made me sick, I wouldn't know who to be upset at. Having reached the point where I'm not super afraid of getting sick because I'll be home in 72 hours regardless, I was open to eating pretty much anything, even off the street.

I reached Monate Nate's Pies and walked in to see how much they cost. Only six pula! Sheesh! Essentially you could make a small lunch out of one, and at less than a dollar, who could say no? Knowing that I was about to eat a second lunch though, I ordered just one, a chicken peri peri pie, and a soda. I made my way out to the Mall again with my portable lunch and kept perusing. As I finished my pie, I walked right back to the more open area where I had committed to a hot dog, and ate possibly the most questionable thing I've had since arriving. It tasted just fine, aside from one or two hard pieces that you sometimes find it ground meat/sausage. However, as I looked at the greasy dog, the butter on the bun below it, and what looked like natural casing, I was pretty sure I'd know who made me sick if I ended up in the restroom later in the day…

For about twenty more minutes I walked around, eventually buying a few more pairs of earrings and necklaces for various women I know back home (family of course). I also even spotted a wood carved Nativity Set, which seemed so out of place, but was pretty cool looking. At 250 pula though, I thought maybe I'd go back tomorrow and see if I could get the price to budge a bit. After about my 3rd trip up and down the mall, I ran into a convenience store, bought a lemon soda (conveniently), and headed back to the clinic, passing the Cathedral, Princess Marina Hospital, and about 50 tables on the sides of the road selling everything from fruit and airtime to fresh French fries and what appeared to be pork rinds. Having had my fill of street fare, I held onto my money (including the trillion dollar bill I had in my wallet) and made it back to the clinic without being tempted into buying anything else.

August 26, 2010 7:00 PM

I returned to clinic to check my email, but was also blessed to talk to Ali and John-Paul on Skype. My friends, I am READY to get back to my wonderful family: my wife is beautiful and waiting for me to come home, my son is growing up without me there, and my Dad is in town in need of all the love he can get. I am ready to leave this place, as much as I've enjoyed it, and go home to be with the ones I love and the ones who need me. The image of Ali putting John-Paul in his new play-chair (for lack of a better word) and watching him hold his head upright while cooing, laughing, and essentially talking to me in a language I don't understand lets me know that I've been gone long enough.

I said goodbye to my loved ones and headed to Mass. Afterwards, I was blessed beyond what I deserve by my conversation with Vincent. I was able to speak to his brother in Kenya, who is disabled but who Vincent insists is like a father to him and "loves God more than I do." I found this very hard to believe. After this, he told me that he has never seen a lay person as faithful and prayerful as I am, and that he sees Christ in me. Honestly, I do not relate this in order to toot any horn of my own, because as he said this I knew that it was not a compliment to be enjoyed as truthful but instead as a call to be who I should be. Truthfully, I did NOT deserve such a comment, and though glad that God was able to inspire Vincent in that way, I know that I am not the holy man that he imagines me to be. I am sinful, I am very very very very imperfect, and I don't deserve to have him, and the other people who inspire me to do better, as examples and role models. However, I am blessed to know this man, and all the others who remind me to live as Christ's instrument each day, though I don't always listen.

Regardless, of course Vincent walked me back to the where the clinic was as always, even though it wasn't dark. He is used to it, he says. As we came to our parting place, he called his wife in Kenya so that I could say goodbye to her. I did, and briefly, as only moments remained on his airtime balance. With that, I saw perhaps (but hopefully not) the last of Vincent Ochowa, the man I never expected to meet but hope that I never forget. As we said goodbye, we wished each other God's blessings and hugged goodbye. The love I received was almost tangible, and the love I was called to give now and in the future was almost as obvious.

And so here I sit. I'm caught up on my blog as I sit at the Sun. I'm not sure what the last two days in Gaborone hold, but I do know that, despite my ever-present resistance, God is blessing me and protecting me in ways that I have not even realized. What is to come surely will be a blessing as well!

August 28, 3:49 PM

So I'm here in Johannesburg, out of Botswana and waiting to go home! But now to finish off Thursday:

So as I was typing toward the very end of that previous entry, I was sitting at one of the tables at the Sun rather than at the bar. As it was crowded, I felt kinda bad about taking up a whole table. In any case, as I asked for my bill, this lady comes up to my table and asks if she can sit there so that when I'm done she can have the table. Sure I say, and keep typing. My bill comes and I give my card to pay it. As the waiter leaves, this lady's girl friend sits down at the table as well. As I'm waiting for my bill to sign, a different waiter comes up and asks them for their drink orders. They say what they would like, and then he turns to me. "Oh no, I just paid my bill…I'm about to leave," I said. He laughs briefly and says something about him thinking that I was there with these two women. Being polite, and joking with him I said "Oh no, I'm not that lucky."

Then woman number A says, "Are you sure??"

"Uhhhhhhhh"

I'm not sure what that was all about, what she meant by that, but I do know that all of a sudden I felt uncomftable. I just kinda chuckled softly and shrugged it off, signed my bill and go the heck outta there. That's all I will say about that encounter.

I ran home and caught a quick shower because tonight some of the PAC docs and their friends were going to a place called "Tavern" for karaoke. After my shower, I finished off the last of the couscous and vegetables, just as good as the night before. Dressed and ready to go, a few of the docs picked me up on the way there.

Now Tavern sounds like a place where you'd imagine English/Irish/etc people hanging out drinking Guinness and Smithwick's, but this was slightly different. There was just a bar with refrigerators and bottles behind it (nothing fancy, no taps), a bunch of tables, and a stage where the karaoke would take place. We perused the karaoke list, which as we listened to the Asian man running the karaoke singing "The Gambler", we realized was kind of random. On top of this, the songs were not grouped by artist but by title. I found this very unhelpful. Regardless, as different people picked out songs, I hesitated. Instead, I waited a bit until my first drink kicked in. A little later on I agreed to sing pretty woman with Jay, a guy here from Gabs who has befriended the PAC docs.

As I enjoyed the people in group as they sang "I Will Survive," "Sexy Back," "It's Rainin' Men," etc, Jay and I waited for our song. And we waited, and waited, and waited. It never came. I think our little slip must have gotten lost somewhere inside that dark tavern. Regardless, I had plenty of fun singing along from the crowd, and felt especially at home when a few of the docs went up to sing "La Bamba." It only could have been better had someone chosen Marty Robbins' "El Paso" or the Aggie War Hymn. Somehow I think both of those were not on the list.

As 11 PM rolled around, I recalled that someone had mentioned that the place got a little sketchy after that point in time. I learned why, however, when one of the guys I had met that night explained that after 11 the place becomes very much populated by prostitutes. He continued to tell me how one of his friends had been given and unsolicited description of two separate prostitutes "nether regions" if you will. Shuddering, I became ready to leave very quickly. After a few more songs, everyone decided it was time to leave, and about 11:45 we were out of there, and I had fortunately not been propositioned at The Tavern…whether or not I had been propositioned at the Sun earlier in the evening is still up for debate.

The PAC docs gave me a ride home, which was rather fun as we were all a little rambunctious and gave our driver a hard time for not knowing where she was going and almost missing a turn. I arrived home safely, and pretty much went straight to bed. I was le tired, and a long day awaited me as my time in Gabs was drawing to a close.

 

The Feast of St. Louis…

August 26, 2010 3:45 PM

Yes you might notice that I am writing this entry for Wednesday after starting the one for Thursday. But I won't post 'em that way in order to keep everything less confusing…


 

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Wow, is that today? Well it was when I started this entry, but not anymore. Surely I can remember today that was today but is now yesterday right? We'll see…


 

I got up a little earlier than usual Wednesday because I wanted to make sure to get a shower in early enough and fast enough to leave hot water for my roommate. It's one of the things I've found I've been trying to do ever since my stint at living alone ended…taking fast showers, closing the door when in the bathroom, etc. Too much?? Okay, fine, I just wanted to convey the idea…you get the picture. No no, don't get that picture! Sheesh!

First, though, as I was sleepy (as usual) I put some water into a pot, put a lid on, and set it on the stove to boil. I brushed my teeth, went back into the kitchen, then finished up and got into the shower. I had planned on making the shower brief, but about 2 minutes in I thought about the water on the stove. I suddenly couldn't remember if I had remembered to turn off the burner or if had only thought about it. I started to panic just slightly thinking about the boiling water overflowing everywhere and onto the electric stove. I washed faster than ever before, dried off, threw on my clothes as fast as I could (which is difficult when your skin is still slightly moist from the shower…clothes stick!), and ran out to the kitchen. Fortunately I had turned off the burner, which, now that I was out of the shower, was promptly switched back on.

About 7:15 I was still getting dressed, while Meg patiently waited. I was supposed to be there by 7:30 and was to show her how to get to the clinic from the house. After finally getting everything together, I quickly drank the cup of coffee that she offered to make for me while I was running late, and we were off. We talked on the way about how long she'd be here, her application for fellowship in infectious diseases, and the like. When we arrived, it was time for me to head out with Dr. Abid as Wednesday was a day for the Moshupo outreach clinic. I jumped in and we were on our way.

Along the path we picked up one of the nurse prescribers (what I have gathered is the equivalent of a nurse practitioner here). The road was familiar, as it took the same route as the one we had driven to get to Thamaga three weeks prior. As we drove, I was quick enough to capture photographic evidence of perhaps the most absurd and disturbing billboard I have seen.

Imagine for me, if you will, a billboard with a picture of a man and a woman enjoying a drink on a sunny day sitting at a table. To their right, in big, bold letters are the words:

ENJOY BOTSWANA? No no

WELCOME TO BOTSWANA? No no no

THE PRIDE OF SOUTHERN AFRICA? Nope…


 


 

RAPIST'S PARADISE


 


 

Yes of course, you are shocked. Where is this place where rapists' go to thrive and enjoy themselves, and why in the world would the nation of Botswana be advertising such a horrible idea and destination?

If you took the time to carefully examine the billboard (which you might not do if you were driving down the road without stopping at a light), however, you would notice, on the bottom left of the billboard, in relatively tiny letters, the words "Break the habit. Stay sober, stay safe." And "Sober is cool."

So this is a billboard advertising the idea that getting drunk is harmful to you in the sense that it makes it much easier for you to be targeted by a rapist. Hmm, that's interesting. You would think maybe, that the words "Stay sober, stay safe" would be a bit more prominent! Sheesh! I almost left Botswana thinking that they were the world's 'Rapist's Paradise' and very proud of it. To prove my point, I have provided a picture of it for you, obtained by quickly grabbing my backpack from the backseat of the car, pulling out my camera, and making the doctor I was with wonder about me until I explained why I was so enamoured by the Rapist's Paradise billboard.


 

After about an hour's drive, we finally arrived at our destination of Moshupo. Along the way I learned that "Choppies" is apparently the Walmart of Botswana (not sure why or if you wanted to know that, but whatever). We arrived at a small freestanding clinic, about the size of four US classrooms put together. There were five exam rooms, three on one side, and two on the other, with the last room being reserved for the pharmacy, where there were about two regular Tylenol sized bottles of most medications…that's it. My friends, we had arrived at resource-limited, to be sure. The exam room was a bit larger than the one I had encountered in Thamaga, but contained a desk, shelves, an exam table that wobbled back and forth when your weight wasn't in the right spot (a characteristic I soon learned to take advantage of to break the ice and make some of the kids smile…nothing like thinking you are about to fall on your head and then not doing so to make you laugh), and a sink. On the wall there were two windows, one of which was broken (and had been since the PAC docs could remember) but partly covered with random flyers and posters, though incompletely.

I thought we would go right to work once we arrived, but we ran into a problem. You see, the idea behind the PAC doctors doing outreach visits is that one of the local doctors will work in the same room as them, being mentored and taught by the PAC docs each time, and eventually coming to the point where they would be able to manage even the most difficult cases on their own. Then, the PAC docs would stop coming. Unfortunately, at this clinic, the past few times had essentially resulted in no local doctor in the PAC doc room. This pretty much meant that they were using them as an extra body to see kiddos and reduce patient load. After talking with one of the docs there, it became clear that they would not be sitting in with us that day either. This was NOT okay with the nurse prescriber, and didn't sit well with the PAC doc either. Therefore, while I spent the next hour taking pictures and reading posters on the wall, the NP and PAC doc were negotiating, talking on the phone with supervisors, and getting things set straight. Eventually, about 10 AM, they decided that for the patient's benefit they would start, but that serious discussions would take place before PAC docs would return. As a sort of compromise, one of the clinic nurses joined us for the day.

We began to see patients, but after finishing with the first and going to wash my hands, I was informed that this clinic did not have any SOAP. That's right, no soap. Ever so thankful to my wife, who insisted I bring a small bottle of hand sanitizer, I set to work rinsing my hands with water and then rationing the sanitizer to make it last until the end of the day. Again, this clinic had no otoscope, one computer from what I could tell, no gloves, etc. Also, to make a duplicate copy of the note so that the patient could take one copy and the clinic could retain one, the doc had to use two copies of the same form and then place a piece of special "carbon paper" (that's what I'll call it because I've no idea what it's actually called) in between in order to transfer the writing onto the second copy. I know this is not a huge deal, but it just speaks to the fact that there was so much less than the luxury we enjoy in American hospitals and clinics. In addition to this, the adult patients were being seen in a two room, 8 by 15 foot shack outside, which meant while they waited they sat on a bench in the cold weather. The rooms in this shack were TINY. Needless to say, it was a far cry from what I've been used to in TCH and the Texas Medical Center.


 

(Okay, I have to interrupt this note…I'm sitting at the Sun catching up on the blog, and to signal the end of happy hour the bartender just rang a bell…how did he ring it? Ding-ding-ding-ding, ding-ding, ding-ding! Hullabaloo Canek Canek! Whoooooooooooooooooooooooop!)


 

We saw about fifteen patients that day, and I was blessed enough to do the exams on all of them. Seriously, I'm telling you half of them had flow murmurs (benign heart murmurs that kids just have). Intermixed were patients with a case of tinea capitis (read as "ringworm of the head") that was worse than I had ever seen, a dehydrated baby who had diarrhea and cried for the first half of the visit, and the obligatory cuties. By about two we were finished for the day, and using the last of my hand sanitizer to clean my stethoscope and my hands, we were off and headed back to Gabs. Truly, the outreach experiences are an invaluable component of this rotation. Doing so much with so little makes one more appreciative of the "excess" we enjoy in the States.

On the ride back, I took a few pictures, but then I was DONE. I tried to stay awake for a time, but then was nodding off here and there until we stopped to drop off the NP just outside of town. We arrived back at the clinic, but since I hadn't brought my lunch or my computer, I ran home to grab both. After a quick encounter with peanut butter and crackers (Thanks Chrissy!), I headed back to the clinic for free wifi. I checked my email for the day, which really means checking my email for the previous day (by 3 PM here it's only 8 AM in Texas, so I get to see what people sent me between about 10 AM and 5 PM the previous day). About five PM I headed home, ready to both catch up on the blog and commemorate the feast day of St. Louis in my own special way.

Essentially that meant I went home, enjoyed the evening sunset in the backyard as I prayed the Evening Prayer for St. Louis's feast day, and then headed over to the Sun to journal. Why at the Sun? Well, you see, as we've discussed, the Sun pool bar area is very pretty, and from 6-7 it is happy hour. What we have not discussed is the fact that the only beer brewed here in Gabs is a beer called….you guessed it "St. Louis Lager." (I won't comment on the fact that it's essentially like water because Saint King Louis would not appreciate it.) So of course I came here, journaled for a bit, and enjoyed one of the beers in honor of the saint of the day….isn't being Catholic great???

Unexpectedly, I was blessed enough to run into Dr. Patel and Dr. Mr. Patel, who had come to the Sun for dinner just to get out of the house. I spoke to them briefly, asked them how they were doing (they are really super friendly people), and wished them a good night. After that I closed my netbook, packed it up, paid my bill, and headed home.

At home I decided to try to make do with what groceries were leftover rather than trying to restock three days before leaving. Therefore, I heated up some vegetables in the microwave and prepared some of the "Generous serving of Coriander and Chili Couscous." Both of these were left courtesy of my first roommate, who we have decided shall be referred to as Chrissy. Granted, I've never had couscous before. I don't even know how to spell it appropriately for sure. But it was GREAT! And it went very well with the vegetables. I was pleased, and can fully endorse consumption of couscous to all my friends.

Following the thrown-together dinner, I called it a night early, said my night prayers and read as I fell asleep…my third to last night in the Baylor 1 house.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

“It’s Time for Africa… It’s Time for Africa… It’s Time for Africa… It’s Time for Africa… It’s Time for Africa… It’s Time for Africa…”

August 25, 2010 6:25 PM

No it's not another virus, but it was making me a wee bit sick…I'll explain…


 

August 24, 2010

So Monday night I slept, and I slept, and I slept. I woke up about 1 to change out of my clothes, get into sleep pants and a shirt, and get under the covers. I woke up a few more times, not from restless sleep, but because I think my body was shocked and kept thinking that it must be time to wake up. All in all, my final wakeup time of 6:45 gave me over 10 hours of sleep. I was shocked.

Yet somehow I was STILL tired. I made my way over to the clinic, and settled in for what I did not realize would be a longer day. The patients were simply LONG. It wasn't their fault, but they were taking forever. That made each one a little more difficult to stay wake for as the doc I worked with wrote the patient up on the electronic medical record system. About halfway through the morning, I excused myself, saying I was going to go get some coffee. I knew it would take a while, but I headed over to the cafeteria that Dr. Andres had shown me the week before. As we did when he was with me the previous week, I sat down at a table, thinking that it would be faster than waiting in the long line. As I watched the people in the line come and go (with the old American movie posters behind them and an African Soap opera (where there were captions every other sentence since the show was filmed in what I've dubbed "Setswanglish") on the TV above them), twenty minutes passed. Not a word was said to me. A little defeated, I decided Dr. Andres must have had special cafeteria powers. I walked back just as sleepy:-P

Then came a couple patients that made it harder for me to be sleepy. Among them was a 15 year-old boy named Letang, who came to us in green pajamas bearing the letters LPH and with an escort. He was from Lobatse Psychiatric Hospital, where he was in rehabilitation for poor control of his bipolar disorder. He was rather entertaining, and not because of his disorder solely. He was just very energetic, friendly, and a bit off-the-wall. He talked with us, offered us candy, asked us if we knew who Jim Reeves was, told us jokes, and squealed with excitement repeatedly at the idea of going back to school once released from LPH. He was sweet one minute, then insistent (though kindly) the next that we call his grandmother, who apparently hadn't been to see him for weeks. Then, we were to "give [him] the feedback." He was definitely my favorite patient of the day. I could have talked to him all day. Even still, as the doc typed up Letang's note, there were a few moments of silence where I almost fell asleep while sitting on a stool with wheels on it and my head leaned against the wall behind me. It would not have been pretty, but perhaps Letang would have been amused.

By this time, it was about noon. However with no end of patients in near sight, I tried the cafeteria again. This time there was NO line, so I went right up to the cashier, waited to be paid attention to, and asked for coffee. I assumed I would get it to go, but sure enough a few minutes later a worker brought out a tray with a teapot full of hot water, sugar, coffee, and cream accompanying the small coffee cup. I quickly chugged down the first cup, mindful of the time. Now, I'm not sure if I was supposed to do this, but assuming that they were going to let me drink the entire pot of water/coffee on my tray for the 5.50 pula I paid, I went ahead and discreetly scooped a bunch of coffee and sugar into my contraband Nalgene bottle, poured in the remainder of the cream, and topped it off with as much water as the bottle would hold. I left a tip and walked out, shaking up my extra coffee with a smile as I walked back to the clinic.

It definitely helped get me through the remainder of the day, which ended around 2. I followed my typical routine of lunch then internet at the clinic. However this time I stopped at the restaurant by the clinic, which somehow was still serving lunch. I ordered the beef (the toughest beef of my life and the last I will be eating at that restaurant, thanks very much), samp (boiled corn kernels, which were AWESOME actually…I need the recipe), carrots, and slaw. I asked the woman there if I could have some of the peppers that they had automatically left off my plate two times previous. I asked to make sure it was hot, then confirmed that yes I did want it. The lady gave me this look that I would interpret in the States as "Boy, you crazy." She complied, though, and I left for the clinic again.

I ate and worked at the clinic, calling South African Airways to change my flight time Saturday to one a few hours earlier to ensure that I'd make my 6 PM flight home to the States (I thought the one hour and ten minutes I had before the change was pushing it a bit). Without any hassle, the man on the phone at SAA changed my flight, and without any fee! Take note America!

It was at this point in time that my phone rang, and Grace (the trainee coordinator for the clinic) was on the other end. She said that she had a new resident that was working at the clinic for a month in her office, and that she needed help figuring out which of the keys she had fit the locks at the Baylor One House.

Hooray! A new roommate! Though now to distinguish I must name the former roommate and the current roommate.

So it had been about two weeks since Roommate A had left, and though I was getting used to being on my own, I still would have preferred to have her around. In any case, I walked over to Grace's office to meet my new roommate, Roommate B, a third year resident at Stanford who would be here until mid-September. I helped ID the keys that would work at the house, introduced myself, and that was about it (she was off to get some things done in Gaborone). Aww heck, just to make it more realistic, let's ditch the letters. We'll imagine that roommate A is named Chrissy and that Roommate B is named Meg, just for fun.

After meeting Meg, I left in time to make it to daily Mass at the Cathedral. Daily Mass is no small feat here anymore. That is at least if you are going in the evening and Vincent is there. After Mass he told me he just wanted to have a word or two before heading home. I met him outside, where he proceeded to sit on a bench where we could talk for "Five or eight or ten minutes." He gave me the contact info for his family in Kenya in the event that his work permit in Botswana should expire before he found work. I explained to him that I would not be able to make it to Serowe to visit him (did I mention that he had brought his up Sunday?) In any case, he said then that if my scheduled allowed it he would like for me to come to Serowe, where he had previously been working, stay at his house if I needed to, and see the rhino sanctuary, which he insisted "very many whites" like to visit. How I was supposed to do this after work on a week night then get back to work using a bus system I had never tried before was beyond me. In any case, I explained it wouldn't work out. Next time, he said. Then a few minutes later he was scratching off another airtime card so that I could speak to his brother in Kenya and his friend Sister Margaret in Mahalapye Botswana. Fortunately for my impatience, as I had somewhere to be at 7:30, only Sister Margaret answered. She was much easier to understand than Vincent's family, and I wished her a good night. Then I found out the origin of the four consecutive phone calls I had received from Vincent many days back.

"When I am calling somebody, you see, I have to try them at least a good four times. You never know, they may have left their phone in the study, in the kitchen, in the living room, in their bedroom, so I give them a good four tries before giving up."

This made me feel better as I watched him try to phone his brother in a village in Kenya four consecutive times. It made the calls from him that midnight Saturday night about ten days back a little less creepy in retrospect. After no answer from his brother, he concluded it would not work and walked me back to the same place as always.

I ran inside the house on arriving and made a quick dinner out of some peanut butter and crackers. After the big lunch, I didn't really need too much to eat. In any case, I headed out to an experience unlike any other…

This night was the night of the Camp Hope Talent show. Camp Hope is an overnight camp put on for patients at the clinic once a year during the school break. It is not designed to talk about HIV, etc but just to give the kids a fun time and to make friends who share their infection. I left the house and walked, using the instructions given to me by Leah, the doc in charge of the camp. The camp was at a nearby school, but still had to be reached by walking down one winding road that was lit but still scary enough for me to move my credit cards and cash from my wallet to my fleece front pocket in the event of a mugging. I arrived safely, and as the talent show began I watched a couple of the kids put on a routine where one of the boys acted as the arms for the one "man" in the skit, while the other was the head. Everyone laughed as he brushed his teeth, washed his face, and ate an apple. There was also a skit put on by about ten kids in Setswana, which was apparently hilarious but none of which I understood. I think it might have been about not drinking, as one of the characters was stumbling around as if drunk.

After this is when it began. One after another, groups of the kids went up to the front of the room and performed a dance to the song of their choice. However, thanks to World Cup fever from the previous two months, 80% of the kids, and at one point 5 groups in a row, performed a dance (all very similar, btw) to Shakira's song that I assume is titled "It's Time for Africa." I had heard it once before, but by the end of the two hour show I was soooooooooooo pleased to hear the DJ play the apparent them song for the camp : "The World's Greatest." It was very cute, as all of the kids and counselors did a dance they had obviously taught each other that essentially acted out the lyrics. I watched from the sidelines…

As we left the show, I waited for all the kids to file out with the PAC doctors. They asked if I needed a ride home, but since it wasn't far, I said I'd be alright. About three minutes later as I was walking down the road that led homeward, not one but two of the docs stopped on the side of the road after seeing me and asked if I was sure I didn't want a ride. Recalling my move of putting my valuables in a "secret pocket" on the way there, I accepted gladly and was home in just a couple minutes.

After arriving home, I read in my room for just a bit, finished a blog post, greeted Meg as she arrived home for the night, and pretty much went to bed. Though it wasn't quite as early as the 8 PM bedtime the night before, it was the end of another good (and among the last) day in Gaborone.

A Return to Normalcy…

August 25, 2010 6:06 PM (WHOOP!)

Sitting poolside catching up on the blog again…but it's far too cold for swimming. I guess we'll just have to proceed with…


 

August 23, 2010

So Monday Morning brought a familiar bed, a familiar time, and a familiar routine getting ready for work. Though I loved my trip and know this will sound almost contradictory, anyone that knows me probably realizes I do better with constancy (is that a word? Word doesn't underline it in a red squiggly, so I am going with yes). I finished up getting ready, grabbed a couple apples for breakfast (I was both out of milk and out of time anyway), and ate them on the way to work, allowing their cores to biodegrade in the alleyways.


 

After a brief but wonderful call back home, which I hadn't been able to do since Friday night, I realized I didn't have a schedule for the week as usual. I brought this to the attention of Dr. Patel, who basically just found a place for me with Dr. Bri and told me we'd figure the rest out in the afternoon. I'd worked with her the previous Thursday and so was happy to do so again. Clinic that day was great, as it is most of the time. The kids were fun and energetic, and the glory of the day was brought to a pinnacle when we finished with our last patient at 11:30 AM. Most days finish about one or two, which doesn't sound long, and it isn't, but somehow working through lunch just makes that last hour or so take FOREVER.

As per usual, which will likely make for a short blog post, I ran home for some lunch, finishing off the last of the Pasta a la Gaborone. I will digress for a moment to comment on something I discovered while living here with limited kitchen resources. In a pinch, you can make a perfectly decent "Italian Bread a la Gaborone" by toasting normal white bread, spraying it with aerosolized vegetable oil, and sprinkling on salt and dried Italian herbs. Don't laugh…it's not a Fazoli's breadstick, but it's Botswana people.

Digression over. I pretty much just headed back to the clinic to use the free Wifi yet again, and sent some very important emails in between checking Facebook and Gmail. Running out of things to do, I began looking over various pediatric residency program online as well. I killed about two hours or so before I got bored and started blogging again, then left about five.

That evening I broke down and started reading again. This time it was "The Magician's Nephew," which somehow happened to be the only other book of the Narnia series in the house, even though the box they all came in is still present. I read until it was dinner time, which meant a perusal of the contents of the fridge/freezer since my milk was old and my bread was molding (it was not molding during lunch, btw). There I found some frozen vegetables and imitation chicken/vegetarian patties. A little impatient at the time, I exercised the options given on the respective boxes to microwave the vegetables and to TOAST (yes toast) the patties. Add a little ketchup mixed with Indian hot sauce and it was actually really good for what it was.

Then came perhaps the most surprising moment of the trip thus far: I read for a while, decided I'd be more comfortable in my room, went and started reading on my bed, and eventually decided I was done for the night. It was 8:30, and I put the book down and instantly fell asleep…


 

SHOCK!

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

“It’s Time for Africa… It’s Time for Africa… It’s Time for Africa… It’s Time for Africa… It’s Time for Africa… It’s Time for Africa…”

August 25, 2010 6:25 PM

No it's not another virus, but it was making me a wee bit sick…I'll explain…


August 24, 2010

So Monday night I slept, and I slept, and I slept. I woke up about 1 to change out of my clothes, get into sleep pants and a shirt, and get under the covers. I woke up a few more times, not from restless sleep, but because I think my body was shocked and kept thinking that it must be time to wake up. All in all, my final wakeup time of 6:45 gave me over 10 hours of sleep. I was shocked.

Yet somehow I was STILL tired. I made my way over to the clinic, and settled in for what I did not realize would be a longer day. The patients were simply LONG. It wasn't their fault, but they were taking forever. That made each one a little more difficult to stay wake for as the doc I worked with wrote the patient up on the electronic medical record system. About halfway through the morning, I excused myself, saying I was going to go get some coffee. I knew it would take a while, but I headed over to the cafeteria that Dr. Andres had shown me the week before. As we did when he was with me the previous week, I sat down at a table, thinking that it would be faster than waiting in the long line. As I watched the people in the line come and go (with the old American movie posters behind them and an African Soap opera (where there were captions every other sentence since the show was filmed in what I've dubbed "Setswanglish") on the TV above them), twenty minutes passed. Not a word was said to me. A little defeated, I decided Dr. Andres must have had special cafeteria powers. I walked back just as sleepy:-P

Then came a couple patients that made it harder for me to be sleepy. Among them was a 15 year-old boy named Letang, who came to us in green pajamas bearing the letters LPH and with an escort. He was from Lobatse Psychiatric Hospital, where he was in rehabilitation for poor control of his bipolar disorder. He was rather entertaining, and not because of his disorder solely. He was just very energetic, friendly, and a bit off-the-wall. He talked with us, offered us candy, asked us if we knew who Jim Reeves was, told us jokes, and squealed with excitement repeatedly at the idea of going back to school once released from LPH. He was sweet one minute, then insistent (though kindly) the next that we call his grandmother, who apparently hadn't been to see him for weeks. Then, we were to "give [him] the feedback." He was definitely my favorite patient of the day. I could have talked to him all day. Even still, as the doc typed up Letang's note, there were a few moments of silence where I almost fell asleep while sitting on a stool with wheels on it. It would not have been pretty.

By this time, it was about noon. However with no end of patient's in near sight, I tried the cafeteria again. This time there was NO line, so I went right up to the cashier, waited to be paid attention to, and asked for coffee. I assumed I would get it to go, but sure enough a few minutes later a worker brought out a tray with a pot of hot water, sugar, coffee, and cream accompanying the small cup. I quickly chugged down the first cup mindful of the time. Now, I'm not sure if I was supposed to do this, but assuming that they were going to let me drink the entire pot of water/coffee on my tray for the 5.50 pula I paid, I went ahead and discreetly scooped a bunch of coffee and sugar into my contraband Nalgene bottle, poured in the remainder of the cream, and topped it off with as much water as the bottle would hold. I left a tip and walked out, shaking up my extra coffee with a smile as I walked back to the clinic.

It definitely helped get me through the remainder of the day, which ended around 2. I followed my typical routine of lunch then internet at the clinic. However this time I stopped at the restaurant by the clinic, which somehow was still serving lunch. I ordered the beef, samp (boiled corn kernels, which were AWESOME actually…I need the recipe), carrots, and slaw. I asked the woman there if I could have some of the peppers that they had automatically left off my plate two times previous. I asked to make sure it was hot, then confirmed that yes I did want it. The lady gave me this look that I would interpret in the States as "Boy, you crazy." She complied, though, and I left for the clinic again.

I ate and worked at the clinic, changing my flight time Saturday to one a few hours earlier to ensure that I'd make my 6 PM flight home to the States (I thought 1 hour and ten minutes was pushing it a bit). Without any hassle, the man on the phone at South African Airways changed my flight, and without any fee! Take note America!

It was at this point in time that my phone rang, and Grace (the trainee coordinator for the clinic) was on the other end. She said that she had a new resident that was working at the clinic for a month in her office, and that she needed help figuring out which of the keys she had fit the locks at the Baylor One House.

Hooray! A new roommate! Though now to distinguish I must name the former roommate and the current roommate.

So it had been about two weeks since Chrissy had left, and though I was getting used to being on my own, I still would have preferred to have her around. In any case, I walked over to Grace's office to meet my new roommate, Meg, a third year resident at Stanford who would be here until mid-September. I helped ID the keys that would work at the house, introduced myself, and that was about it (she was off to get some things done in Gaborone).

After meeting Meg, I left in time to make it to daily Mass at the Cathedral. Daily Mass is no small feat here, I've decided. That is at least if you are going in the evening and Vincent is there. After Mass he told me he just wanted to have a word or two before heading home. I met him outside, where he proceeded to sit on a bench where we could talk for "Five or eight or ten minutes." He gave me the contact info for his family in Kenya in the event that his work permit in Botswana should expire before he found work. I explained to him that I would not be able to make it to Serowe to visit him, stay at his house, and see the rhino sanctuary, which he insisted "very many whites" like to visit. Then a few minutes later he was scratching off another airtime card so that I could speak to his brother in Kenya and his friend Sister Margaret in Mahalapye Botswana. Fortunately for my impatience, as I had somewhere to be at 7:30, only Sister Margaret answered. She was much easier to understand than Vincent's family, and I wished her a good night. Then I found out the origin of the four consecutive phone calls I had received from Vincent many days back.

"When I am calling somebody, you see, I have to try them at least a good four times. You never know, they may have left their phone in the study, in the kitchen, in the living room, in their bedroom, so I give them a good four tries before giving up."

This made me feel better as I watched him try to phone his brother in a village in Kenya four consecutive times. It made the calls from him that midnight Saturday night about ten days back a little less creepy in retrospect. After no answer from his brother, he concluded it would not work and walked me back to the same place as always.

I ran inside the house on arriving and made a quick dinner out of some peanut butter and crackers. After the big lunch, I didn't really need too much to eat. In any case, I headed out to an experience unlike any other…

This night was the night of the Camp Hope Talent show. Camp Hope is an overnight camp put on for patients at the clinic once a year during the school break. It is not designed to talk about HIV, etc but just to give the kids a fun time and to make friends who share their infection. I left the house and walked, using the instructions given to me by Leah, the doc in charge of the camp. The camp was at a nearby school, but still had to be reached by walking down one winding road that was lit but still scary enough for me to move my credit cards and cash from my wallet to my fleece front pocket in the event of a mugging. I arrived safely, and as the talent show began I watched a couple of the kids put on a routine where one of the boys acted as the arms for the one man in the skit, while the other was the head. Everyone laughed as he brushed his teeth, washed his face, and ate an apple. There was also a skit put on by about ten kids in Setswana, which was apparently hilarious but none of which I understood. I think it might have been about not drinking, as one of the characters was stumbling around as if drunk.

After this is when it began. One after another, groups of the kids went up to the front of the room and performed a dance to the song of their choice. However, thanks to World Cup fever from the previous two months, 80% of the kids, and at one point 5 groups in a row, performed a dance (all very similar, btw) to Shakira's song that I assume is titled "It's Time for Africa." I had heard it once before, but by the end of the two hour show I was soooooooooooo pleased to hear the DJ play the apparent them song for the camp : "The World's Greatest." It was very cute, as all of the kids and counselors did a dance they had obviously taught each other that essentially acted out the lyrics. I watched from the sidelines…

As we left the show, I waited for all the kids to file out with the PAC doctors. They asked if I needed a ride home, but since it wasn't far, I said I'd be alright. About three minutes later as I was walking down the road that led homeward, not one but two of the docs stopped on the side of the road after seeing me and asked if I was sure I didn't want a ride. Recalling my move of putting my valuables in a "secret pocket" on the way there, I accepted gladly and was home in just a couple minutes.

After arriving home, I read in my room for just a bit, finished a blog post, greeted Meg as she arrived home for the night, and pretty much went to bed. Though it wasn't quite 8 PM, it was the end of another good (and among the last) day in Gaborone.

A Return to Normalcy…

August 25, 2010 6:06 PM (WHOOP!)

Sitting poolside catching up on the blog again…but it's far too cold for swimming. I guess we'll just have to proceed with…


 

August 23, 2010

So Monday Morning brought a familiar bed, a familiar time, and a familiar routine getting ready for work. Though I loved my trip and know this will sound almost contradictory, anyone that knows me probably realizes I don't do better with constancy. I finished up getting ready, grabbed a couple apples for breakfast (I was both out of milk and out of time anyway), and ate them on the way to work, allowing their cores to biodegrade in the alleyways.


 

After a brief but wonderful call back home, which I hadn't been able to do since Friday night, I realized I didn't have a schedule for the week as usual. I brought this to the attention of Dr. Patel, who basically just found a place for me with Dr. Bri and told me we'd figure the rest out in the afternoon. I'd work with her the previous Thursday and so was happy to do so again. Clinic that day was great, as it is most of the time. The kids were fun and energetic, and the glory of the day was brought to a pinnacle when we finished with our last patient at 11:30 AM. Most days finish about one or two, which doesn't sound long, and it isn't, but somehow working through lunch just makes that last hour or so take FOREVER.

As per usual, which will likely make for a short blog post, I ran home for some lunch, finishing off the last of the Pasta a la Gaborone. I will digress for a moment to comment on something I discovered while living here with limited kitchen resources. In a pinch, you can make a perfectly decent "Italian Bread a la Gaborone" by toasting normal white bread, spraying it with aerosolized vegetable oil, and sprinkling on salt and dried Italian herbs. Don't laugh…it's not a Fazoli's breadstick, but it's Botswana people.

Digression over. I pretty much just headed back to the clinic to use the free Wifi yet again, and sent some very important emails in between checking Facebook and Gmail. Running out of things to do, I began looking over various pediatric residency program online as well. I killed about two hours or so before I got bored and started blogging again, then left about five.

That evening I broke down and started reading again. This time it was "The Magician's Nephew," which somehow happened to be the only other book of the Narnia series in the house, even though the box they all came in is still present. I read until it was dinner time, which meant a perusal of the contents of the fridge/freezer since my milk was old and my bread was molding (it was not molding during lunch, btw). There I found some frozen vegetables and imitation chicken/vegetarian patties. A little impatient at the time, I exercised the options given on the respective boxes to microwave the vegetables and to TOAST (yes toast) the patties. Add a little ketchup mixed with Indian hot sauce and it was actually really good for what it was.

Then came perhaps the most surprising moment of the trip thus far: I read for a while, decided I'd be more comfortable in my room, went and started reading on my bed, and eventually decided I was done for the night. It was 8:30, and I put the book down and instantly fell asleep…

‘Dohn’t let dem see, or dey will KEEL us’

August 24, 2010 3:41 PM

We'll it's back in the saddle again time for me, but as for the blog, it's still barely…


 

Sunday August 22, 2010

The morning started just about as early as I had stayed up late the night before. As I woke up, I called myself stupid for only getting about 5 hours of sleep. Regardless, as I opened my eyes I got the impression that I was floating on a cloud in the middle of the night surrounded by more misty clouds…just my mosquito net and comfy bed though. I shook off the sleepiness and threw on some shorts, a shirt, and headed out the door, camera in hand. As the cool-ish air greeted me outside my door, I hesitated, then thought I'd better bring my fleece along, just in case.

In the lobby of the lodge waited about ten people, a few I recognized from the previous days boat ride at sunset. One a group of three adults from North Carolina, and a mom, dad, and son from New York. We all crowded around the table that had been set up with coffee, cream, sugar, and just barely sweet cornbread (I'm assuming) muffins. As I was a little bit later arriving than anyone else, I quickly made my coffee and used it to inhale two of the muffins as my breakfast, forgetting the fact that an actual breakfast (which I had paid for without a choice in my room rate) would be waiting at the restaurant upon our return. It was better that I ate anyway, since for some reason my intestinal ulcer (which I have not been diagnosed with but assume that I have as I wake up some mornings with a slight burning sensation in my abdomen that resolves with food…and no I have not had it checked out…I'm a medical student, and going to the doctor is something doctors don't do, in case you didn't know) was bothering me a bit more than normal. As I swished down the last bite, I headed just outside the entrance to the vehicle to which I had been assigned.

I took my seat in the second row behind the family from New York and in front of a family from somewhere in Asia, pointing out to myself yet again that I was the only one in the group traveling alone. Stanley, our driver, handed out blankets (at this cue I put on my fleece), started up the open air vehicle, and headed out onto the main road with a flash.

And it was FREEZING. The air was cool, to be sure, but when you added the artificial wind from driving in an open air vehicle, it was ridiculous. I would not have been happy without something warm to wear.

We arrived at the entrance to the park, where everyone had to get out of their vehicles and walk over this wet doormat-looking thing. Apparently, it is some sort of measure meant to prevent the spread of foot-and-mouth disease. Decontaminated from the sole of the shoe down, we were allowed to continue the drive-in. As we drove on the paths through the hilly landscape while the sun was slowly bringing light into the sky, our driver told us about how all the dead trees we saw were thanks to the 60,000-70,000 elephants that occupied the national park. Apparently they eat the bark of the tree, then leave it to die, a fully formed skeleton of the green plant that had once been. Silly elephants…

A few moments after this we spotted a few destroying some trees on the hillside to our right, but in the early light they really were almost just shadows moving along the ground. We continued on the trail, turning west further into the park and along the edge of the Chobe River. In the river valley just below we were able to see some impala, some waterbulls, and far far off among scant trees here and there more elephants, just spots of grey from where we were. To our left (the south) were the hills of the park where we would spend the majority of the time searching for animals. Just before we turned again to the south to head into this hilly area, Stanley stopped. We looked around for an animal that he must have spotted, and he said simply "The sun rises."

Sure enough, over our right shoulders and at an angle behind us the sun was JUST peaking over the hills and trees. "Well played, Stanley," I thought. It was perfect timing and certainly the rising was pretty. More beautiful, though, was the landscape that surrounded us as it was cast in shades of gold, with red, orange, and purple reflecting in the Chobe, mimicking the sky above. We sat and watched for a few minutes, waiting until the most brilliant colors of the sunrise had passed and a golden hue dominated both the sun and the sky around it. There were many things to see, and so we were off again.

As we drove, Stanley pointed out first giraffe tracks, and then waterbull tracks, and finally lion tracks. WHAT?! Lion tracks! I tried not to get too excited, as of course tracks are stationary and therefore much easier to find than the kitty himself. Further, we drove and stopped and drove and stopped for a good chunk of time, viewing different animals along the way, none of which were lions. I was beginning to think tracks were all that we would see of this guy.

Fortunately, though, we were able to see just a bit more. After turning away from the river and driving for about ten minutes, we came to a stop and looked to the left. About 50 yards away, just barely visible through the trees and bushes, lay a golden mound with a slightly red-tinged, bushy end. Stanley moved back and forth trying to get a better view. Within a minute or two, though, we were surrounded by the wildest animals in Chobe that day: humans on safari. Seriously, there were six vehicles around us before you could say "Simba the Lion King." We were in a spot where you could just barely see the guy, and the presence of others around us made it most difficult to reposition in for a better view. Eventually Stanley just decided we'd stay put. A couple minutes after finding him, the Lion stood up, took a few steps to the west, turned around (giving a good view of his whole body), and then walked off away from us further into the bushes and disappeared. I heard murmurings of two lionesses being close by, but I saw nothing indicating their presence, unfortunately.

Once the lion disappeared from our view, Stanley decided that we'd be off, and if we happened to run into Mr. Lion again we'd just count ourselves lucky. However, every other vehicle around us was not finished, and stayed put hoping to get a better glance. About a 12-point turn later, Stanley maneuvered us out of the herd of safari vehicles and back onto a less crowded path.

As our drive proceeded, it became very clear that the family in front of me was very into spotting birds. They seemed to get almost as excited about the Kingfisher and the Lilac-crested something bird as the elephants and the lion. Surely they were pretty, and I'm sure rare, but I wasn't quite as into it as they were. Regardless, we continued driving, seeing numerous birds, impala, etc along the way. Unfortunately we had seen the last of the lion. About halfway into our drive we spotted a group of baboons traveling in a group, but for some reason Stanley stopped only for a brief moment and didn't get very close. I would understand why in a few moments.

We pulled up a few moments later to a picnic area just off of the river. It was not more than a couple bathrooms and three spread out cement tables and benches. After being in the park for so long without seeing anything that wasn't completely natural, it looked very much out of place, kind of like a Texas boy in the middle of a Botswana supermarket. Regardless, it was perfectly situated for a stretch and coffee break, which gave me the opportunity to consume cups 3 and 4 of the wonderful stuff.

As I strolled around the area, I noticed off beyond the last safari vehicle two baboons just kind of watching and walking around. Interesting. As I made my way along the river's edge, where trees grew up from below to far above the level of the raised edge upon which we were standing, I noticed something moving and eeking in said trees. Indeed, we had come to a stop right where we were able to watch the baboons climbing, swinging, and jumping through the trees. They were not very shy either. In fact, as I tried to position myself to see those climbing in one of the trees, I stepped toward an area of tall grass, only to stop suddenly as I realized I was about ten feet from one of the fully-grown primates and getting closer. He was perfectly fine just staring at me until I came to the sudden jerky stop. Sensing my surprise, he stiffened up too and decided to slowly walk a bit farther away.

After taking a few pictures, some video, and spotting a mother and baby baboon sitting together on a branch far above facing the growing sunlight, I decided it must be time for us to be getting on. In fact, my vehicle's passengers were all inside by the time I got back, and Stanley and I completed the group.

The rest of the drive was relatively tame, with sightings of a few more birds (gosh New Yorkers, move to Texas where we learn to be excited about big animals like cows and horses!), a herd of impala (two of which were fighting, antlers drawn), and a couple of warthogs (I asked but they didn't seem to have heard the name Pumba before). I kept waiting to see giraffes up close, but at best we thought we saw some very far off among the taller trees. As we neared what we all recognized as the beginning of the path, we drove past a few more elephants among the trees, the closest of which somehow had lost his left tusk. As we drove back down the highway headed toward the lodge, my safari adventure had pretty much drawn to a close. I was rather pleased with the number and variety of animals we saw.

Back at the lodge, it was time for me to enjoy my second and full breakfast. I sat at one of the tables on the deck overlooking the river and the greenery that encompassed the lodge. The breakfast was pretty much anything you wanted: eggs, potatoes, sausage, omelets, fruit, numerous types of bread (with jam and homemade fig sauce, which was yummy), etc etc etc. Let's just say that the environment strongly contrasted with the buffet meal that I had previously enjoyed at the Grand Palm in Gaborone: here it was tranquil, quiet, and natural. However the end result was the same: me = stuffed.

Though the breakfast was included, I felt I should leave a tip for the waiter at breakfast. However I had nothing smaller than a 100 Pula bill (about $15). Therefore, I asked the waiter if I could sign a gratuity to my room. He looked at me for a second and told me the breakfast was included in the room cost. I said I knew, but that I wanted to leave him a tip, but did not have any change, so could I sign to leave him one and have it added to my room? He looked confused, went and got another waiter, and came back. I explained again that I wanted to sign a gratuity/tip to my room. They looked at me and said "The breakfast is included in the room sir, there is nothing to sign." I was done…I tried, but there was no getting through. I still felt really bad as they watched me get up and leave the table with nothing on it but my empty plate…I tried!

Having taken note that checkout was at 10, I rushed back to my room after eating, stuffed my things into my bag as the cleaning lady was remaking the bed (they meant 10!), and headed out the door hoping that I hadn't forgotten anything (though I had already checked twice). I did manage to nab some instant coffee packets and sugar, too. J

After this, I checked out, asked if the receptionist could call me a taxi for 1:30 (since my phone had not been working too well), and decided to kill some time by heading into town to see if any souvenir type stores would be open. I walked down the road to the same mall area I had been in the day before, but pretty much the only things open were a couple of clothing stores and the Spar grocery store. That being the case, the only thing I ended up buying was a large bottle of water, as I needed to take my malaria prophylaxis and had nothing with which to wash it down. I then walked down the road a little further trying to see if I could find anything worth exploring. I did come upon one of the inns I had wanted to stay that was full, and passed an internet café that otherwise I would have described as an 8 by 15 foot shack. I took some pictures of the locals selling goods, kids playing on the street, and buildings along the way as I headed back to the lodge, where I had been told it would be acceptable for me to wait around outside until my cab came. I think they thought I might spend some money while doing so…

…which I had no intention of doing. I made my way past the front desk and out to the pool area, where I intended to catch up on blogging while sitting poolside. Before I could set myself down, though, I noticed about four baboons just hanging around the pool area acting as if the humans there were of no concern. Heck, two of them even kinda played around while I filmed them on camera, almost as if they knew I wanted them to. The larger and older baboon sitting on a pot about 10 feet from my chair let me get as close as I liked, and just sat.

Content after filming and taking pictures of these entertaining fellows, I sat down and essentially blogged for a couple hours, which by the length of my recent posts you can tell didn't quite catch me up. The only thing of note during this time was that I really kinda started to feel depressed about my trip being over. I mean, not clinically depressed of course, but I think we Neumann's get very excited about going on vacation/a trip and then get uber-bummed about it when it's almost over. This, which I think was worsened by the fact that I had had about five or six cups of coffee that were probably wearing off about this time, made me reminiscent of the past 24 hours and sad for them to be over. Instead of enjoying the beautiful scenery, I really couldn't help but wish that I weren't leaving it soon.

Regardless, as happens with all vacations, this one had to end. However, it did not have to end without a trip to the souvenir shop, where my tendency to overthink things allowed me to spend the remainder of my time deciding what to buy. Purchases made, I walked to the front desk, waited a few minutes, and jumped in my taxi.

The flight at the Kasane Airport was of course delayed. That I expected. What I did not expect was the hassle I'd get at the security checkpoint just before boarding the plane….

So the day before, I had gone through security with my little half-liter Nalgene bottle, which I had forgotten was full of water. The lady there pointed this out to me, and I apologized and said I'd drink the water right there in front of her. Problem solved. So I am going through the checkpoint in this rinky-dink airport, with my backpack stuffed full of clothes and two overflow plastic bags (one ripped and almost spilling its contents, by the way) hanging from the shoulder straps. I take my laptop out, my metal off, etc, and everything goes through. However, as I go to pick up my numerous and awkward things, the woman at the scanner tells me I have some sort of bottle on the side of my bag. Okay, no biggie, I tell her I'm sorry and that I'll drink the water right away.

"No, you can't have it at all," she says.

"Wait, not even if it's empty."

"You cannot have it at all."

"Seriously?"

"You cannot have it at all. You will have to check it or leave it."

Ladies and gentlemen, I had no checked bags, and specifically stuffed my backpack to the breaking point in order to avoid having to check a bag. Frustrated, and with everything out on the table at security and the check-in desk literally around a corner and 40 feet away, I ask if I can just run over there, leave my things on the table, and check MY NALGENE BOTTLE. She says no I cannot leave my things there. Apparently while they sat there for 30 seconds under her watch there was a chance a terrorist might come and place freakin' bomb in my things. I could NOT believe it.

So I took my things, put them all back together, picked up my bag, with two plastic bags attached (one of which was now actually spilling its contents out), and went backwards through security to the check-in counter. I walk up to the guy…

"Excuse me sir, they told me I couldn't carry this onto the plane, so I need to check it."

"What?"

"This Nalgene bottle. I need to check it please."

At this point, it was really more about winning and making the lady realize the absurdity of her enforcer attitude more than it was keeping the bottle. I mean, imagine a tiny little half-liter plastic bottle with a checked baggage tag that they put on luggage around the little loop that attaches the lid to the bottle. Hilarious! And to imagine that sucker rolling down the chute and onto the baggage claim belt at the other end of the trip…I almost wished it would have happened.

So the guy kinda has the same attitude as I did, and after initially saying that he didn't know if he could still check it, he takes it from me and says okay, stuffing it into the side compartment of another person's bag. As I make my trek through security, pulling out my laptop again, etc., he shoves the cart out the back door of the airport to load everything on the plane.

I literally went through security awkwardly and with difficulty (again), put everything back together, rounded one corner, went through the gate to the outside, and as I am walking toward the plane the same guy from the counter calls out.

"Sir!"

"Yes?" I look over, and he is motioning me to come over to where he is with the luggage cart.

"Come here."

"Okay." I walk across the tarmac to where he is. In the thickest accent he says to me.

"Duhn't let theem see, or dey will keel us!"

With this he takes the Nalgene out, back turned toward and arms hardly moving other than at the wrists (so that his body blocks any chance of Overbearing Security Lady's view even though there is no way she could have seen him through two walls between her and us), and stuffs it into one of my plastic bags. I could only laugh, smile, thank him, and realize that the lady had just given me an incredible hassle but also inadvertently a really funny story to remember.

Content to perform an act of international smuggling, I boarded the plane and took a seat. After takeoff and the seatbelt sign being turned off, I proceeded to pull out my laptop, wifi disabled, to keep journaling. However, about two minutes in:

"Excuse me sir, but you cannot use that on the plane."

"Oh but I have the Wifi turned off."

"You cannot use it at all."

Where have I heard this conversation before? Seriously, I had just done the EXACT same thing the previous day and nothing at all was said. Maybe the people at Kasane have some sort of short-man syndrome because their airport is freakin' tiny. Perturbed again, but not willing to put up any fight, I closed my netbook and put it away. Instead, I decided to read for a while. A few minutes later, the flight attendant passed out packages of beef jerky, peanuts with raisins, and drinks. Having realized I hadn't eaten lunch, I downed them rather quickly. Better that way, I thought, before this lady tells me I'm not allowed to eat them on the plane. SERIOUSLY…

We landed at the airport just as the sun was starting to set at about 5:10. I ran off the plane, made a pit stop, and headed to the terminal, thinking I was going to have to find a taxi other than Tendai since we had been so late. However, not ten steps out into the terminal and there is old reliable Mr. Tendai waiting for me. I had told him we were 30 minutes late, and he automatically assumed that meant we'd be 50. He had literally just arrived. Clutch…

Fifteen minutes later I was dropped off at home, ran in, changed as fast as possible, and booked it over to the Cathedral, where I arrived in a decent sweat even though it happens to be "winter." Sure enough our favorite Kenyan electrical engineer was there, and after Mass he waited to talk to me for a while. We talked and he asked if I wouldn't mind walking across the street to the small Spar because he wanted to buy airtime so I could say hello to his family. Of course I wasn't going to say no, and a bit later we were walking back through main mall as he called his wife in Kenya. Literally, I said hello to her, talked for about 30 seconds, and then passed the phone back (the airtime to Kenya is expensive, and we had about 3 bucks worth). Next, I was on the phone with his sister who works for the UN in Kenya. Same story. "Hello, how are you? Yes this is Chris. I am a friend of Vincent and I am from the USA. Its very nice to talk to you. God bless your evening! Here is Vincent!"

Honestly, I felt a little bad. I mean, I agreed to try to pass around his CV back in the states, but this was getting to be almost like he was calling his family so they could speak to the guy who was going to save them all by somehow getting him a job in the US. I don't want to not hope for the best, I just want him to be a bit realistic.

In any case, I decided (or I guess I knew) that Vincent makes me feel slightly uncomfortable. Not in the "I don't know you and I am afraid of what you'll do to me" sense. I think what it might be, after mulling it over, is that I think his incredible generosity and unquestionable faith (I'd say extreme but that sounds wrong) make me feel that I should be but am not the same way. His wealth in poverty and my poverty in relative wealth may be at odds within my mind, if that makes sense. Really, I'm not sure what is exactly, but this may be part of it.

Sure enough, Vincent again walked me all the way back to just before the last couple of turns to get home. As we were saying goodbye, a youngster who looked "questionable" walked through the alley, and as we talked I could tell that the kid made him worried. He was talking with pauses every two or three seconds, keeping his eyes glued to the young fellow. The look on his face reminded me of a larger dog tracking a potential threat to his smaller friend (me) in order to keep him safe. I assured Vincent that I'd be fine, and after he was out of sight I ran through the alley just to be sure:-P.

Finally, I arrived home for the night. Some leftovers for dinner, a little blogging, and a shower, and I was ready for some bedtime. It had been a long blog post…I mean, long weekend, and despite my bit of sadness earlier in the day, I was ready for a return to some normalcy.


 


 

Behind the Scenes Part 2: The List that Became the Blog Entry!:

"Day 2

Staying up toooooo late

Early start

Scarfing muffins and coffee

Almost forgetting my fleece and FREEZING

Elephants first and their bark habits

Impala, etc

Sunrise and the river

The Lion!

More animals and the river

The baboons

The picnic stop

The fighting impala, warthogs, etc

The distant giraffes

The elephants at the end

Breakfast at a table looking over the river

The gratuity issue

Checking out quickly

Setting the bill straight

taxi home and phone not working

Walking to town

Baboons by the pool "


 


 

Monday, August 23, 2010

Worth every Pula….

August 22, 2010 2:33 PM

So if you're reading these online and you haven't read one or more of the previous posts, go back and read 'em in chronological order. Seriously I just posted like four days worth of posts. So go back! It's more fun that way I promise. And I'll add pictures later on.

Currently I'm sitting at the "terminal" for the Kasane Airport, hoping that the 45 minute delay doesn't turn into longer. I've gotta make it to Mass by 6 PM! But let's not get ahead of ourselves now…

August 21, 2010

One of my two cell phone alarms woke me up successfully on Saturday morning…I'm not sure which. However, somehow while lying in bed watching TV I had managed to fall asleep with the lights on. Later in the course of the night, I noticed said lights, and got up to turn them off. However, the one on the desk next to the bed, about a meter (they tell me that's about a yard plus a bit) from my head was one whose operation I could not figure out in my sleepy state. Therefore, I slept all night long with that bad boy on. It made it easier to not trip and fall when getting out of bed in the morning at least, because the sun sure wasn't up.

I quickly dressed, packed everything that had been taken out of the bag, plus free shampoo and soap (I am determined not to buy more here and I am running low on the latter), checked my room, double-checked my room, noticed a pair of boxers hanging on the back of the bathroom door, shoved 'em in, downed a cup of coffee, and ran downstairs, hoping not to be late for the shuttle even though it was a few minutes past.

Ha! We waited until about 6:30 before our shuttle arrived. It did not sit well with the Australian family (children appropriately named Izzy, Millie, and George of course). Almost everyone was complaining about something: one ordered breakfast for quarter after 5 and it didn't come till ten till six (and it was cold! Imagine!), one asked for a wake-up call that was late, etc. I was simply upset that when I went to check out the receptionist told me that I owed 25 pula for tips. I asked and the woman said the airline did not cover these "tips."

So okay, I was very nice about the whole deal. I didn't get mad at the nice guy at the airport the day before, I paid for my own internet, the delay would eventually make me miss out on Victoria falls, etc. But I'm sorry, when you say you're covering accommodations and food, I assume that this means that if I don't buy anything you told me not to, that I pay ZERO. Air Botswana will be getting a letter from me (and it will do no good, but I'll feel better). At the time it didn't bother me too much, as it's really like 4 bucks. But in retrospect…it's a little more perturbing.

Things went off without a hitch at the airport though. We didn't board until seven, but as I sat typing on my netbook to catch up before the trip (haha) a woman from the UK who had ordered breakfasts for her family at the hotel (and brought them packed in to-go boxes) came over and told me they had been given one extra, and would I like to have some breakfast. I must give off a helpless look, or maybe it's just because I was the only one traveling alone. In any case, I enthusiastically accepted and thanked her very much, and dove into my build-your-own egg sandwich with sausage (yes I ate it and I know maybe I shouldn't have) and an orange. Just as I was stuffing the last bits into my mouth, it was boarding time. We walked out onto the tarmac, up the stairs, and we were on or way.

I was excited that it was actually happening, but a little concerned that the phone numbers given to me by the Travel Woman who was supposed to help me arrange both transport from the airport and activities for the day did not work. I asked around, and everyone already had arranged transport via the lodges at which they were staying. I didn't worry too much, but still I kinda wondered what I'd do as I typed during the flight. Though the arrival time was supposed to be two hours after the scheduled departure, we were on the ground thirty minutes early. I suppose maybe that they allot so much time because they seem to be always delayed.

As we got off the plane, I laughed at the airport, tiny as it was, and the fact that there were two simple signs: one stating "International Arrivals" and the other "Domestic Arrivals" The two signs were MAYBE 200 feet apart. Nonetheless, we surely were in front of the "Domestic Arrivals" sign. I walked through the airport, which took about 20 steps, and out to the parking lot, looking around for a taxi, as I still had not heard back from the Travel Woman.

Then I met one of the nicest ladies I've met on this trip. I asked her about taxis and if she knew how much they would cost. She told me no more than 30 pula, at which I laughed and said the Travel Woman was going to charge 100 pula for transfer from the airport. She thought that was ridiculous, and gave me a number for a local taxi. Then as I was getting ready to call, she introduced me to her husband, who lived extensively in Kasane and used to manage the Chobe Safari Lodge. As we were talking about how I was a medical student working at the Pediatric HIV clinic in Gabs, she said she had done work in that area and had also gone to Baylor (I didn't really tell her that I never went to Baylor and that the two schools weren't affiliated, but the opportunity didn't present itself ideally). The conversation was coming to a close since the shuttle from Chobe had arrived, but she stopped and told me that I should just get on with them and get a ride into town that way. I was more than eager to accept, not knowing when or if I'd get a taxi. As we got onto the shuttle, the driver checked off party names and numbers. As I prepared to get caught and left at the airport, the woman gave her name and then said, "Three. No no, there are three of us." The driver didn't skip a beat, and I was on the shuttle, mouthing a heartfelt "Thank you!" to the lady as I took my seat.

We took a short ride through terrain that was obviously different from Gabs, with taller trees, hills, and eventually the Chobe River sparkling in the distance. As we approached it by going down into the valley below, we came to a fork in the road and Chobe Safari Lodge was to our immediate left. As we got out of the shuttle, the lady invited me to walk into the lobby to see it if I'd like. By this point in time I had already decided that I would ask to see if this place had any rooms available, thinking how nice it'd be to have someone REMOTELY familiar to ask questions of…and the difference in price would have been no different than if I'd spent two nights in the budget place like I had planned anyway. I thought I was a longshot, as I'd called before and been told only Friday was open and not Saturday. In any case, I proceeded, partly hoping that there had been a true cancellation, and partly hoping that this lady could somehow pull some strings and get me in. As I waited in line to ask, I overheard her talking to someone from the place that she knew. Then after the conversation, she walked away, then turned back and I heard her talking about me and asking if there were any rooms. Nope, all full. Unfortunately, this string of luck had just run out. She came up and told me what I'd already heard, but suggested that I try the Chobe Marina Lodge just down the road a few hundred meters. I said okay and thanked her and she wished me a good trip. I realized later that it was kind of a quick conversation and that I wished I had been able to thank her more properly, but I did not want to overstay my welcome, so I split:-P.

Down the road I passed a grocery store, the small hospital for Kasane, and came upon a wall covered in bright flowers of various sections of vivid colors. Following this was the entrance to Chobe Marina Lodge. I asked the man at the gate if I could go ask about any open rooms, and fortunately he allowed me in. I walked up to the receptionist desk and was probably staring all around, because this place was pretty. In any case, I focused myself enough to ask if there were available rooms. There were, as it turned out. Then I asked how much. See, I had looked online and noticed that the "special" there was a room with two activities, breakfast, lunch, and dinner for something like $500. Seeing that online made me not even look into the place. The woman at the counter answered my question saying 1100 pula for the room and breakfast. Now, I paused and stood there for a second thinking, even telling her that I wasn't sure. It was about $150. I really had not planned on spending that much on a hotel night.

However, I justified it to myself this way. It was the same I'd have spent on two nights, and since this was my only night, I wanted to stay somewhere I knew was comfortable. The place I at which I had held a room for Saturday had somewhat iffy reviews online, was much farther down the road, and was not as nice I was sure. Further, I had already saved about 100 pula not getting the transfer to the other place. Also, staying here would have allowed me to book activities right away, including a sunset boat ride that I was not about to miss again (and the prices were the exact same as the Travel Woman had stated). I paced back and forth in place, and finally decided I REALLY wanted to stay there and not worry about anything further going wrong. Done and done, and I had a room for the night. But check-in was not until 2.

In the meantime, I figured I'd schedule my activities and then head into town to kill time till 2. From what I understood, all the game drives left at 6 and there wasn't anything to do until after check-in. I waited a bit at the scheduling office, set up a boat ride and then a game drive in the morning, and was about to head out to town. I took a moment though to notice how pretty the place was. Wood decks, a layout for the main lodge in an L-shape, with a small pool of water leading to the river below and trees above towering next to the thatched roof on the 2 story building. As I walked around, however, I noticed a boat sitting at the dock down on the river, and a line of people standing waiting for something. I put two and two together and realized there was a morning boat ride that still had not departed!

I quickly walked over to the scheduling office, manners aside, and asked the woman there, who was on the phone waiting for someone, if there was any way I could get on that boat. Two boat rides would be better than one, I figured (I'd turn out to be right). She said yes and then kinda didn't say anything, resuming her waiting on the phone. I waited about thirty seconds, asked if I could just go and get in line to get on, and she said yes. I was off and super pumped to be less than an hour from leaving the airport and going on a boat ride/game ride. I really figured it'd be the afternoon before I got to do anything.

After waiting about a minute, the line moved down the dock and onto the boat, and I grabbed a seat at the front facing south. The river was beautiful by itself, and I was ready to go. The guide had everyone sign their names on a list, and without any questions I signed and it was official. We were off!

We made our way down the Chobe past the other lodge I had been at with Super-Nice Lady to our left. I looked to see if I could see her, then realized it was unlikely given we were out in the middle of the river about two football fields away. After stopping at the "Entrance" (read a shack on the side of the river where the guides have to drop off a list of people entering on the boat) to the National Park, we continued on. I really don't know how to describe adequately the scene. The River parted into two channels around a large island whose end we could not see from where our journey began. Along the way we noticed so many different birds I can't even tell you. Off in the distance, though could be seen two grey boulder-ish things. Eventually, we'd get closer and realize they were elephants. I was done…I had figured there would be no way I could go home without seeing an elephant, and now I had. However, this was only the beginning. We made our way somewhat near the two elephants, but passed them and continued down, passing a group of impala eating on the island, and a group on the riverbank. We sailed (loosely used because I can't think of a better verb and don't want to keep using "continued') by what I think are called waterbuffalo…but I'm not sure and I'm probably wrong. In any case, they were big, dark, and looked like bulls. Oh, maybe they are called water bulls. Whatever.

Next was the BEST part of the entire ride. It wasn't enough to see the vegetation, the couple distant elephants, and the other creatures. We next came upon a group of about 7 elephants standing at the edge of the island. It looked like they were all getting ready to cross over…and the river was at least 100 yards wide at that point. As a few smaller boats and two larger ones sat there, it was looking like a stalemate. The boats didn't want to leave before the elephants crossed, but the elephants were wary of the boats. I didn't care. We were sitting so close that I could have just stayed there all day. I wasn't even in my seat anymore. I was on the floor of the boat, sitting trying to get as close as possible to the edge to get better pictures/better view. I had my legs out on front of me, and even slid my head underneath the front rail a couple times (there were about 18" of space in front of the rail…it wasn't like I was dangling over the edge of the boat…and since we were just sitting, it was safe…plus the guide didn't say anything about it.) Eventually we noticed another group of elephants on the other side of the river coming our way. Four in all, they came to a stop across from the group on the island. One elephant on the island side took a step forward, and then stopped as the group of four from the bank side began moving into the water. In a perfect line, three larger elephants and a smaller baby elephant began to cross! They got lower and lower and lower as they took about 2-3 minutes for their cross. However, the baby elephant wasn't tall enough and disappeared under the water completely! To our comfort, he eventually reappeared on the other side gradually about 2 minutes later with his friends, still all in a line. It was AWESOME. At that point in time I knew I had made the right call in staying at this lodge.

So this post is getting super long, so I'll summarize briefly. We made our way around the end of the island, noticing more waterbulls and starting the trek back. Along the way we came across two great groups of hippos, sitting soaking in the water like you'd expect a hippo to do I guess. They poked their heads out long enough for some pictures and to give us a slight worry that we'd gotten too close. We kept on, eventually making it past the start of the island, up the river past the lodges and to our lodge. All told us "passengers set sail that day for a three hour-cruise, a three-hour cruise"…anyone? Anyone?

Back at the lodge, we de-boated and walked up the ramp to the main part of the lodge. Almost immediately Victor, one of the bellhops (for lack of a better word) said that my room was ready and that he'd been looking for me. I apologized and told him I thought they'd let him know where I had gone. It was only 12:30. At any rate (this rate being 1100 pula I guess), he showed me to my room, which was just about as great as the main lodge itself. It was on the top floor, which meant my roof was a "grass" roof, but vaulted. The bed was nice and large, loomed over by a frame from which a tied up mosquito net hung. The lighting fixtures looked like hollowed out tusks (surely they weren't actually) and the décor from the bathroom to the sink in the room were all very appropriate. Out the French doors at the far end of the room was a small balcony with two chairs that faced tall trees and the river below. It was an AWESOME view. I thanked Victor for showing me everything and set my bag down in awe. It was a good decision to stay there! I decided to say late Morning Prayer on my balcony, and realized in doing so that I had almost forgotten to take my malaria prophylaxis. I guess that's why I stored the pills inside my Liturgy of the Hours coverJ

Feeling a bit guilty about how many pula the room was, I decided to walk down to town to buy some food and drinks in order to save money and not eat at the lodge restaurant for lunch and dinner. It was only about half a mile to the shopping center, if that. As I arrived at what must have been the Kasane mall, I headed straight for the Spar…I knew that meant groceries. Just across from there was the brand new "KFC Kasane" that distracted me with it's advertisement: Free Soccer Ball with purchase of a "Streetwise Two" combo. Basically, it was a six dollar combo. Skeptical, I walked in just really wanting the ball. I asked how big the ball was, and the woman showed me a regular sized soccer ball in red and white with the Colonel's image on it. Somehow I decided that I was going to have to get this ball. I asked if I could just buy the ball. They lady gave me the impression that the meal was required, so the question of lunch (and subsequently dinner) was answered. A few minutes later, bag and ball in hand, I walked across to Spar. I was there for about two minutes and bought nothing. My chicken would be enough, I had decided.

However, in the event that I wanted an adult beverage in the evening, I stepped into "Tops" to buy a couple local bottled drinks. What would have cost about 20 pula at the lodge was now 6. "Bargain shopper, and sneaky too," I congratulated myself in my mind. I walked back to the lodge, holding the bags of food carefully like they were contraband or something, expecting the guard at the entrance to stop me and tell me I wasn't allowed to bring cheap food in. No such nonsense, and I headed to my room for lunch. After eating, exploring the room a bit, and relaxing with a bit of TV, it was just about time for another boat ride. This one was the one I really wanted to do…and it would be worth it!

So by now you're sick of reading and I'm tired of typing. I'll say this. The sun on the water as it was setting was beautiful, we took a slightly different route this time around, running into a group of 13 elephants, then stopping at a group of hippos (among whom was a baby hippo…cute) and not even really paying much attention to the 7 elephants on the other side. It was okay, however, when we eventually noticed and came upon a huge group of FORTY-SEVEN ELEPHANTS at least. I counted. And we got up close, and elephants are surely my favorites. They ate grass like spaghetti, sprayed themselves with water, and were just awesome. We rounded the turn, noticing more impala (who look so out of place on an island in the middle of a river (how did they get there?!), bird birds birds, a crocodile, some giraffes out in the distance (who were hard to spot as they looked like trees from far away), and capping the trip off with an elephant who swam across the river, gliding along his way, then ending up under water for about a minute as the river was too deep. Successful and exhausted I am sure, he made it finally to the edge.

Finally, we came to a stop where the river forked around the island to watch the sunset. It was just incredible. I kept trying to take pictures, but eventually just gave up once I noticed the colors on my camera weren't doing the purple sky and the blazing red sun justice. The BEST way to see Chobe is on a boat in the afternoon/evening/sunset. Incredible and worth EVERY single pula the trip cost. And I would have said that even after the morning ride!

As we pulled into the lodge dock in the dwindling light, we were greeted by chants and singing in Setswana. At first I thought maybe it was just a continuation of the "Lion King" soundtrack that had been playing in my head the whole evening. As we walked up the ramp, we noticed some local dancers dressed in traditional garb looking over the deck above waiting for us to arrive back. Low on battery power and out of memory on my camera, I quickly deleted some of the blurry pics and unnecessary video and made a little room, using the actual viewfinder to save power. The teenage dancers performed for about 15 minutes, singing different songs while dancing. I recognized one song's main word "Dumelang" meaning "Hello everyone", which made sense since they were dancing and waving at us as the main portion of the more complicated dance. As the performance finished, they danced their way up and across the lodges decks and out the front door. Again, this was the right place to stay.

As I made it back to my room, I felt like wanting to dance like a local in the shower…okay, whatever, you'd have felt the same after that. When I got there, the lights were low, the bed covers pulled back, and the mosquito nets lowered, making my bed like a little square tent. Turn-down service again, I thoughtJ.

I cracked open a drink (using a soda can as a bottle opener as I had seen the bartender on the boat do) to go with my refridgerated leftover chicken, and dinner was set. After finishing up, I tried to walk around with my drink to see what was going on, but the place was actually very quiet. I stopped at the deck overlooking the river to look at the stars for a bit. They looked so different from the southern hemisphere, but they were definitely out for the viewing.

There were some visitors watching Chelsea beat the every living tar out of Wigan in soccer at the Riverside Bar, but otherwise the only activity was upstairs at the restaurant. I tried to figure out if there might be some way to make it to Victoria falls after all, but after talking to the receptionist and mulling it over I decided that it wouldn't be the best to try to force it. Another time, I figured…hopefully. Thinking it had been a long day anyway, I was content to finish my drink and head back to my room. I showered (no dancing…by that time the urge to had passed), made some decaf coffee, and slid under the nets into my bed. Though it had been a long day, somehow I managed to stay up AFTER MIDNIGHT watching TV, even though the game drive in the morning was at 6 AM. But I got to watch TV, and it was exciting…and also worth every pula, I thought. Some things never change…



(Now for a behind the scenes look! The following is what the post looked like when I was in Kasane just jotting things down. I give you "Marley & Me" list #1)

"Things to remember for this post.

Almost being late

The late vans

The british lady who gave me breakfast

The flight here and not being able to reach my transfer lady

The deplaning and the nice Baylor lady who told me not to pay 100 pula for transfer, got me on the Chobe bus, said there were three, etc

The chobe arrival, her asking for a room for me, etc, and pointing out chobe marina

The decision to stay at chobe marina

The booking of activities

Noticing the 930 boat

Getting on the boat free?

The trip, the animals, the crossing, the video, the pictures.

The arrival back and Victor

The posh room

The walk to the spar after asking security

The KFC and the soccer ball

The Spar

The Tops

The sneakiness getting back in

The Afternoon ride: 13 then 7 by the hippos then 47, the hippos, the swimmers, the baby hippo

The Arrival back, the dancers, the no battery power.

Coming back to recharge and turndown again…with mosquito nets down…evening prayer and starting the stash.

Wanting to dance like the dancersin the shower.

Eating leftover cold chicken

Walking out to see the stars

Shower and the mosquito nets

Debating vic falls

The end"


Aren't you glad I didn't just give you that list. Really, without the video montage in "Marley & Me," you'd have been bored then too:-P