Money, Tired, Rain, Heat, Patient Committees and Leaving for R&R!

Hello folks. Quick little update. Nothing big to report. I will be heading out later this week for some R&R and then some training in Amsterdam for a couple weeks then back into here for some more weeks before finishing in June. Things are going well, but this place is a difficult place to work.


Money:

I have been paying people for things left and right, and today my money drawer was empty of Somali shillings. I called for the driver to come here "Haron, Fadlan Kalay Halcas" (Haron, please come here.) I took from the top of my small pile of US dollars, two bills, two crisp hundred-dollar bills, and handed them to Haron. "Change these into Somali please Haron." "Somali?" "Haa" (Yes). And off he went in his car.

Approximately 30 minutes later, Haron returns with a large bag full of money. "What was the exchange today Haron?" I asked. "Today fifteen four." Meaning 15,400 shillings to the dollar. Yesterday it was 16,000, last week it was 15,000; it moves a little.

Haron started unloading the stacks of 500,000 shilling bundles onto my desk, "shan borrow konn, hal million, hal million iyo shan borrow konn, " "(five hundred thousand, one million, one million and five hundred thousand. He was helping me with my pronunciations as we stacked the stacks.) We counted all three million, and eighty thousand shillings in one hundred thousand shilling bundles. There are only two notes in general use in Somalia, the 500 shilling note, and the 1000 shilling note. It is only efficient to count the money by size, since no one here counts that much money one bill at a time; that would take all day. (The Somalis laugh at how white folks count many bills. It is a slow process compared to how they speed them off. Taking a stack of 100, thousand shilling notes, a Somali could count off 50,000 shillings 4 or 5 times before I could. I have gotten better at running my fingers through the bills, but still my skills are lacking and not that accurate.) He left and I started loading up my vacant drawer. To my surprise, it was full. In that one money transaction, Haron changed my two crisp hundred dollar bills, into a smelly pile of crumbling notes three feet high! I hear in Somalia they still print money. I hope, more than any other benefit to peace and the government returning to Somalia is that they soon print a ten thousand shilling note!


Tired:

It was 1430 today, and I was a little upset. In the afternoons I try to take at least 20 minutes of rest before starting my afternoon, and this afternoon, I didn't think I would get it all, that upset me (it's the little things, eh). Damn, "let's try anyway", I optimistically thought. The temperature is up, and the humidity is violent to my clothes and my smell, so I try to limit activity while getting my bed ready for a little rest.

1435 I lay out my plastic floor mat, folded 4 times for comfort; but that only leaves a mat wide enough for me, and long enough for most but not all of me. I sleep on the concrete floor because it is a little cooler than the bed, letting out a little of the cold it retains from the night before. I place a sarong overtop of the mat (because, hey, I can't lay down on plastic, I do have style and comfort issues to deal with.) I remove anything that would keep the heat in, then lay down. I can feel the stress flow from the top of my body slowly out of my sinuses, slowly to the middle of my head, slowly coming to the back of my head, slowly draining out the point it touches the mattress, then out. This is good! Just then, just as I have exhaled the last ounce of stressful thought or negative energy, my alarm rings; it is 1450, time to get going again. Damn, I really could have used that other 5 minutes. I'm tired.

Rain:

It has been getting hot here lately; hot and humid too. Odd to feel humid, when there hasn’t been rain since I got here four months ago, or some months before that. Actually, a drought ended in November when it rained for the first time in four years. Wow, "four years, no rain?" "Yup, it got bad then, but with the rain, we will be alright for a while." (I live in a different world. In my world, I don't ever recall a time where the water stopped its infinite supply out of the tap. Does that ever happen? If I didn't know better, I think I would believe that our tap was hooked up to a clean river from heaven.

When living in a place like this, or other lower resource, warmer climates, a person becomes in touch with nature. You can comment on some things with authority like, "there are more clouds these days," or "it is less windy these days," because you are intimately in touch with it all. The sky, the unforgiving sky without clouds, or the clear night sky that allows you to walk around in full view of your surroundings. The wind, the dust it brings, cooling effect it gives, the direction it blows your papers, and the frustrating way it takes the badminton shuttlecock to the right. And let's not forget the air itself; does it suck the moisture from your brow, cooling your head, or is it heavy with moisture, unable to take any from your body (please, take just a little, I have far too much). And you can definitely comment on the rain, "what the hell is that noise? Surely that isn't rain!"

It begins much before the first drop can be heard, seen and joyfully felt. It starts days, if not weeks before. It stays hot, as always, but with a new component, it gets humid too. The humidity can be felt in heavier air, more wind needed to cool, more clouds sheltering us in the day, and warmer nights. Then, a week or so after that is surely noticeable; the clouds start looking thicker and darker underneath. Soon, people start talking, "soon it may rain, In'shallah." Yes, of course, God willing, it will. "

As the talking is happening, anticipation for the rain comes. There is a little excitement each day that the rain holds off. "Certainly with this amount of clouds, rain will come today," but it doesn't. Before November, it didn't come for 4 years. How many days teased the farmers like this during those 4 years.

Then one day, the clouds looking dark, the air heavy and with no thermal refuge, the wind absent for the day, and just as I looked out a window to question if this was a darker day than before, a noise started up. Tap.tap. tap tap... tap tap taptappp. It had begun. The rain had arrived. Like a homeward bound ship becalmed 10 miles out, this was long anticipated, we could all see it was coming, we could all feel it was coming, and now it had arrived, it was raining.

It was around noon, we had just finished lunch and were taking rest before the afternoon work back at the office. One by one, everyone on the team came out to see it, taste it, feel it, and breath it. There we were, 8 people, standing in the rain as if it was raining spaghetti; "what was this coming from above?" as if we had never seen rain before, or long ago missed it's companionship. We stood, we smiled, we laughed, we joked and generally just took it in, enjoying its cooling touch.

It has been a week since the first rain. It rained a few nights ago again, harder than before, with more conviction and dedication to refill the water table in Galcayo. The town is generally flooded now; more of our drive to the hospital is through water than on dry land. And life has gone through a change. Sort of like the type of change that happens in spring in Canada, here life has been born; insect life mostly. I am sitting next to a light that is surrounded by more than 100 flying bugs large and small, and some big crawling ones too. There are the small regular ones, moths and smaller fliers, creating a lamp shade around the light. Then some larger one fly in with a deep buzzing sound. You can hear them from pretty far away, and they land with a light crunch as they collide with a wall or floor and some scrapping as they try to flip over. The crickets are out too. "Thanks folks, that's enough, we can hear you, we know you made it past the dry season, you can shut up now!" There are the praying mantis' too. They are by far the most elegant of them, once they land. (They are shit flyers and sometimes land in very unappreciated places, like the neck.) The Manti (I think that is the singular of Mantis, but not sure) sit there ready to, ah, er, pray, I suppose? I've never seen one eat anything. I would have thought the two arms out front would be posed to strike, but I have no witnessing to back that up. The ants are probably really confused. They have been around for a long time, all through the dry season, but now they are just one of the other bugs. (I suppose that is what it is like if you live all year around in cottage country, then spring hits and the weekend warriors come to invade your territory.)

Bugs and lights, why are lights so exciting. In Sudan in the rainy season, every night the "Bug Olympics - Fire Extinguishing Event" would be held on the table, as flying bugs would fly closer and closer to the candle flame to see which one could put it out. Many honorable second place contestants would be immortalized in the wax museum underneath. I think it is because of a mating thing. Supporting my theory that people do crazy things because of love, I also support that we are not the only ones doing crazy things for love. Whizzing around a light all night, hoping to get somewhere to meet the right kind of lady insect, wow, what great analogies could come out of that one!

So, yes, the bugs are out in full force. The trick is to limit the bugs in your room. By experience, I have learned to do this by being clever with the lights; lights off, open door; close door, lights on, but that doesn't work completely. So mosquito net techniques are vitally employed. Lights out, brush off close insects, lift net, climb in, lower net, and if you are fancy, tuck net into the bed (I'm not fancy, yet.) Last resort, there are sometimes one or two clever ones that get inside the net. For these ones, again the light is employed. Grab book in one hand, and line up to an insect on a side of the net against the wall. Turn off light and deliver a swift blow to the wall in the approximate area of the bug. Turn on light and inspect the progress. I like this one, because it uses technology to beat the bug. (No chemicals, ozone friendly, cordless, etc.)

The other life that is reborn, are the kids. In some of the larger puddles (small ponds really) there are kids jumping and swimming around. It makes me cringe when I think of how happy they are, and how open kids mouths are when they are happy, and how dirty the water is splashing in those mouths, but they are pretty happy. I do believe there really is nothing I could do in this situation, except appreciate how happy they are; sad that all that happiness will give some of them the shits though.

Imagine that, 4 years without rain; then one day it comes. There are some kids, who had never seen rain in their life before, and now their world is transformed, and they are old enough to know it is something really big. What great excitement!


It's not the heat:

The day is hot and humid. The thermometer reads HOT, but the standing water outside suggests it is a humid HOT. The cloth I use to wipe my head is wet. The other cloth I use to wipe my head when the first one is wet; is wet too. I bring a frozen 750ml bottle of water to the office in the morning at 0730. By 1000 if I don't wrap it in a cloth, it is water. Today I forgot to wrap it, therefore it is water already. Usually, I could use the ice all morning, re-filling the bottle up with a litre or two of warmer water, but not today. My one form of comfort in this heat, is that the Somali staff I work with, are also considering it hot. (Finally, I'm not the first to suggest it is a hot day, and have a reply, "wait till there is a hot day white man."


Patient Committee:

I started a Patient Committee in the TB Clinic. This Committee is intended to focus patient complaints. I feel I cannot listen to everyone's complaint, and I hate turning away people wanting to express their problems, so I suggested this one day and it was accepted. Actually, it was a little longer than that in forming:

For many mornings, I had come to the TB Clinic passing some patients who somewhat obviously wanted to talk with me. I could trade greetings, but they wanted more of my time, and I had things that needed my immediate attention, and I would have to decline. One morning, an old man called to me. I don't know what it was about him, but he held himself like someone who speaks when they have something to say, and it is a wise thing. I went to talk with him. We talked a little, trading greetings and comments on the weather. I had to refer to my book a lot, as I still can't understand or express that much Somali. After some time, I told him, let me get my translator and let's talk some more. I called to my translator and we walked back, now to a growing crowd of patients. "Subah wanagsan, Soo dawow." (Good morning, welcome!) I said, much to their enjoyment. I'm finding language an excellent bridge to these types of meetings. I cannot express more than 5% of myself, with the words, but I think people appreciate communication with their language. The crowd was getting bigger as we were greeting so more, and someone said, "fadhiiso." Ah, I remember that one, so I started to sit down. Then I started to heard parts of other words I understood, "...Somaliga... Famay... inyerr..." (Somali language... understands... little...) Yes I did understand some.

Okay, we were done greetings, now on to business greetings. "It is good of you to meet with us today. We appreciate MSF's involvement in the clinic and the help you give us. Allah has blessed us with your coming here, and again with your sitting with us today." My translator told me. "It is good to meet with all of you today as well. I am happy to receive your warm welcome, madhatsinid (thank you.)" And now on to business: "MSF must provide us with food, shelter, blankets, mosquito nets, etc." (<----That is heavily summarized. I would say that is the sum of five minutes of conversation from one person, then the conversation is passed around to the others in the group to express their business greeting and how they would also agree that MSF should provide everything.)

"You are right, you do need those things." I like agreeing with people first. I find it puts us together in approaching the problem from the same side. I generally put my own take on it too, or emphasize one of their points. "Yes, with this rain, life becomes more difficult if you do not have shelter. And yes, without food, the TB treatment we offer would be useless as you would die of hunger; good point Mohamed." Then, there is the reality that I must express, but gently. I like putting out the reality, and letting them agree. "What is MSF doing here?" I ask. "TB treatment" I get a reply. "If I had one hundred dollars, should I put it to training medical staff, and buying drugs to treat TB, or should I buy food, shelter, blankets and mosquito nets, so you are comfortable, but die of TB?" "Good question. You should get another hundred dollars and do both." "Good answer, but with two hundred dollars, should I get enough medicines, food and shelter for half of you, or medicines for all of you?" There is a point where there are no more answers. I don't like this point, this is a harsh reality setting in, and I'm the one casting the concrete. So, I try to finish with some lateral thoughts. "How else could we get food for everyone?" "MSF can provide it." "I mean besides that, because right now they cannot, they have chosen medicines instead of food and shelter." "We don't know, tell us." "How about you choose 3 or 4 people to represent you, and join me and some others in a weekly meeting to discuss the issues in the clinic, both yours and MSF's?" "Fantastico!" (This part of Somalia was formally an Italian colony, and some of the old men still speak some Italian.)

And so the Galcayo TB Clinic Patient Committee began. Little bump almost derailed the start of the process, as the committee started with "four people and one woman." "Excuse me, four people and one woman?" I strongly suggested that I would only continue this meeting once everyone acknowledged that we were meeting with five people (4 men and 1 woman), and they quickly got the point and agreed. (I think I will explain next week the MSF charter, "...regardless of race, colour, religion and GENDER!" We meet Monday's at 1000 and this maybe will be the start of something good. "Maybe" is a hard thing to follow through with in Somalia I'm finding, but every-so-often a "maybe" turns into "something," and that "something" cures someone, shelters someone, or feeds someone. "Maybes seem to be a big part of my life, but I believe they are a good use of my time these days, so why not, eh! We'll see what happens.


Leaving:
Over the last few days, I have been working long hours and little things have been more frustrating to me. It is clear that it is time for an R&R. I'm am in Nairobi now, and heading to Amsterdam tomorrow night for some training. Getting everything done, to last until I return in 19 days is tricky, but do-able. Yesterday, all major issues were handed over, and all minor issues are skillfully ignored, I was ready to go.

Karin, Jens and myself were heading out on a Khat flight. These are planes that bring in a stimulant called, "Khat" but return to Nairobi empty. We got three tickets booked and were ready. We arrived at the airport, Abdikarim processed our passports and pushed the tickets through the right people. Then we drove to the plane and stood around a bit while Abdikarim talked to the right people, then we were ushered onboard. On the plane, there were 2 seats at the front, and 3 at the back of the plane, with space in the middle for all the Khat (empty now). There were also 4 people onboard already. Hmm, 7 people, 5 seats. Seeing an opportunity to stretch out, I positioned my pack as a headrest and lay down to start my R&R. The pilot came onboard and walked right back off the plane, shouting, "only 5 people, I'm not taking off with any more. Get 2 people off!"

It seems that the ticket agent in Galcayo is not aware that the plane will only take one person per seat on the plane. This is a hard and fast rule, Monday to Friday. Saturdays and Sundays, there are less immigration officials in Nairobi, so they sometimes load the plane up, (we don’t take those flights). So, here we were, overloaded, and the ticket agents (Abdikarim for us, and three other agents for the other four people) arguing the issue. I’m glad Abdikarim doesn’t yell, but said something and stepped aside. One agent came on the plane to take his client off, but she gave a little fight. It was a little tense, and I wanted to get off to let them go. I got up and the other Somali passengers said, “get back down, this will be alright, we’ll sort it out.”

The agent came back and took the lady’s belongings and pulled her arm and got her off the plane. I didn’t like that. Women in Somalia are repressed a lot. It is horrible to witness the oppressive covering up all the time, abuses that are legal, discrimination in daily life, as well as female genital mutilations (FGM). To see this argument, made me feel like I was again witnessing something that I would like to change, but I am powerless by not knowing how.

Then there were 6 of us. I decided that I would get off, if the other lady was to be hit. I went to talk with Abdikarim about taking another flight. Once I stood up, people shouted at me to get down and leave it, but I didn’t fear getting off the plane. Staying another night is a small thing.

Abdikarim told me things would be worse tomorrow, and then impossible Saturday. “You have an international flight connection coming up, why are you doing this. Sit back down it will be sorted.” (I think what he ment was, ‘you are white and a man, you will get a seat.’)

The agent came on board again, yelling at the other Somali woman. She started yelling back, and then once he was close enough, she hit him. YEAH, good shot! I though to myself. He recoiled to the fisted slap to his head and grabbed it in pain. She never flinched as he stood up straight again and composed himself. They stared for a moment then he punched the wall of the plane and walked away (one hand on his head and shaking his now injured fist too.) I’ve never seen a woman hit a man here. I’ve seen the opposite, but never thought this would happen. I am glad it happened in the plane, because if others saw it, I think he wouldn’t have given up so quickly.

He returned and grabbed her belongings and yelled some more. She left the plane. The pilot came on-board, closed the door, apologised for the delay and we were off. There were a couple words spoken between us, but generally we were silence by the reality of what happened. Having a fight in front of us wasn’t the issue. The issue was the underlaying reality. This was one more situation where the colour of our skin separated us from others. Our money and hired agent was more powerful than theirs. Our work is appreciated more in the community than theirs. Is it racism? I don’t know. Maybe it is just the way things are. We could have stayed instead, but as Abdikarim says, it would be the same tomorrow, then we would have to do it all over again.

After the plane took off, we could lay out on the floor and sleep for the trip over southern Somalia. I read two pages of a book, then the soothing sound of the engines rocked me to sleep.

I’m glad to be out.

Well, just some thoughts going on here now. Take care, lots of love,

Steve

P.S. I just finished reading two books by Waris Dirie, called "Desert Flower" and "Desert Dawn". Waris is a Nomad from Somalia who leaves Somalia for London and becomes a top model. She has since d0ne much work with the United Nations, advocating against Female Genital Mutilation (FGM), as it occurs in Somalia. This is an excellent book, giving a good insight into Somali, the Somali people and even some parts about Galcayo. I recommend this book, but caution anyone that reads it will appreciate their everyday lives significantly more afterwards.