Green Lake Epistle. Attitude: What thou dost look for, thou shalt find. What thou dost not, shall find thee.
I stared into the clean white crystal bowl. Water trickled pleasantly in the background, reflecting the sound off the concrete floor and back towards the sagging drop ceiling. There the sound jostled the colony of acid squirting ants, who stirred uneasily in the pre-dawn stillness. Unfortunately for them and the watching spiders, it was about to get slightly more noisy. And odiferous. Within the outwardly placid contours of my stomach a battle raged between gravity and peristalsis gone mad. The peristalsis won and all of the sudden I knew I had to stare slightly forward of the back of the white bowl. It is just like basketball, projectiles always go where you look. Unlike the pure beauty of a perfect jump shot however, the spaghetti definitely had declined in appearance from its lush red texture earlier in the evening. Fortunately for the aesthetics of the situation, resulting trips to visit my acid squirting ant friends produced less unusual red mush and more stomach acid. These kinds of trips were interspersed with a beautiful delight, a slightly pink concoction which indicated the utter futility of a Pepto-Bismol intervention attempt by Mr. Coy. Just as my relationship with the ants budded into a congenial friendship, I lost the opportunity for eye contact due to the peristalsis reaching a compromise with gravity and shifting the theater of operation. However, I met many new spider friends beside the random blue container with “lentils” written on it. This also gave me the opportunity to reflect on what kind of person would put a food container in our bathroom. I sincerely hoped that they were no longer employed by the hospital, at least not the kitchen. After my night of new friendship formation, I emerged at about 6 am for a trip to our most remote clinic, Green Lake. What could possibly go wrong? It all depended on my attitude…
The First
My head throbbed like a sick beat in a club with considerably less variation. Maybe this was a techno club. I just sort of felt sick. Fortunately the night before I had packed all of my supplies and so I lugged these up the hill. I was running on however much sleep I had gotten before my social tendencies had taken over. I was too scared to drink even water despite the amount of fluid I had lost. The Outer Clinics director was late, so I closed my eyes tiredly until he finally showed up. When he did, he brought two street scoundrels to carry our medications for this Maintenance and Evaluation Trip. They wanted way too much and I didn’t want to pay them but was too tired to care. Once we got to the bus station, we crammed into one of the mini-vans they term buses and cram 20 people into over here. It is pretty easy to see why 17 people can die at a pop in a bus crash over here. No seat-belts, no brakes, no big deal. Just don’t carry any illegal coffee and don’t cram more than 18 people in a minivan unless they are cops. Or if you are past the cop check-point, because there surely would not be a safety consideration for their unreasonable demand of having a seat for each person. Psssshhhh. After an eternity waiting in the bus, with several false starts to lure more customers in, we left. 2 hours later we creaked into Nekemte. Still no food or water for me, they offered me some sugar cane but I was afraid to risk putting anything near my stomach. Once in Nekemte, we got into an extended argument with the bus people to get to Bako. They wanted an unreasonable amount to carry our medications on their precious bus. After emotions got elevated and slightly strained, we all left to get off the bus whereupon the little Nazi condescended to only rip us off by an arm and leg. This was down from all of our limbs. They loaded the medications into the dustiest place on the bus and I prayed the covers were on tight. Once the trip started I was pretty sure they were not, since the road between Nekemte and Bako would jar a the morals loose from a Puritan. Road is such a useless term for that miserable highway. After a three hour ride where my butt was in contact with the seat about a third of the time, spending the other times bouncing wildly between the seat and a point about 6 inches above the seat. Fortunately my seatmate was a small Ethiopian girl. I’m not sure she appreciated my shoulders slamming against her but again, I didn’t really care. If I had eaten that sugar cane she would have more to worry about than my shoulders bumping her. Once in Bako, we grabbed a bite to eat and then waited for several hours to catch a bus to Harto. About 4 hours later, we paid the necessary rip-off fees and got on the last bus. 45 minutes later we were in the booming metropolis of Harto. It was now late, so we got a hotel and then went and got some food. On the way back we heard the soothing sounds of the local children screaming “F—- you!” I could see that they were learning great things from American videos. After cramming into two hotel rooms, we got up the next morning and walked for 10 miles to the clinic. At the clinic, we discovered that the head nurse was lazy, they had let the place go to waste, and that there wasn’t a lot of food. Also, the water line had so many holes the question should not have been “Why is there no water at the clinic?” but “How does any water make it within 100 m of the clinic?” It was a plastic line and there were holes all along it, drilled into intentionally by every community the line passed. A head scratching decision to set a plastic line about 6 inches below the ground contributed immensely to these problems. After counting loads of pills, we crashed again. I was on a bundle of dust disguised as a mattress and developed a raging cold over night. My throat hurt too much to talk and I sneezed constantly. They had arranged a collection of 1 horse, 2 mules, and a large dog to carry us back to Harto. I think the large dog was posing as a very small mule. Nonetheless, they piled me, who had to be in competition for heaviest person present on the white creature. I soon discovered his rather low IQ, as he only wanted to stick his nose in the tail of the nearest animal so further spanking was wasted. I tried to speed him up but only succeeded in hurting my hand on his bony butt. After a few hours of that, we were back in Harto and flagged a bus to Bako, a decision which would later appear fateful. About 1 km up the road, the bus blew two tires. So we all piled out so they could be repaired. The problem was they only had 1 spare. Not to worry, they just ran 1 tire on a place where there should be dualies. Then, a few kilometers later, the bus loses power. We all piled out again from our places crammed against the back of the driver’s chairs. This time, it was the fuel pump. Their ingenious solution was “Who needs a stinking fuel pump?” Obviously, you can just run some plastic tubes into a jug with fuel in it. Then, when that jug gets empty since it is pretty small, you just pour some more into it from the spares set along the seats. Unfortunately, the best way to do this is to rip up the floor boards of the bus right below our feet and sit there over the engine. So all of the exhaust comes straight through, along with all of the smoke that arises when they invariably spill some of the fuel onto the engine and red-hot exhaust pipe when they refill their little plastic jug. Finally arriving in Bako, I got off the bus only to find I was missing Austin Dice’s water filter (worth about 6 months’ salary for a local). I rummaged through my pack-pack, then stormed back onto the bus. I asked the guy who had held the jug the whole time where was a little black bag. Maybe I had inhaled too many fumes, but he seemed to know the exact dimensions of my missing bag. Suspicious, I kept glaring at him and he finally produced the filter from the top rack and then asked for money. I left him without a contribution from me and went off to get a hotel and some food. I spent the night in a room with 75% of the mosquito population of Bako buzzing in my ears. Now I had a raging fever though so a few died of heat exposure when they lit on me. Unfortunately, that did not prevent the survivors from whining around my ears. Also, the fever had a negative effect on my sleeping. In the morning, grabbed a bus to Nekemte and went back over the butt re-aligning road. In Nekemte we quickly grabbed a bus only to ride around the city for a few hours while they tried to pick up more passengers. I think they wasted the extra fare money in diesel. Two hours after we left I dragged back into Gimbie and returned home.
That was painful to write. Not because of the horrific experiences contained therein either. Have you ever heard a story about some hardships and thought that it couldn’t be the whole story? It all depends on the storytellers attitude. For example, above, I tried to sound as whiny as I could, just like those mosquitoes in Bako. I intentionally only mentioned the few negative things that occurred. I didn’t make any of the scenarios up, it all happened, but my telling of it above does not do the trip justice. This trip to Green Lake in fact ranks as one of my favorite times in Ethiopia so far. It was awesome and God really blessed. So, with yet another reassurance that the above in no way represents my actual views of the trip, below is how I remember the trip…
The Second
After I emerged from the bathroom, I briefly considered having Ryan take my place to go on the trip. But, I prayed earnestly and decided that between divine intervention and the fact that there could surely be nothing in my digestive system I could make it. Turns out I was right on both accounts and I will always be grateful I pressed ahead. I grabbed my handy back-pack which had clothes as well as the “football” as in “Nuclear Football.” In our case, the football was a waterproof hard plastic case which belonged to Ryan but which we used on clinic trips to hold the money and important papers. I must admit, even in my excited state of mind, I knew I was pretty dehydrated but I could not risk any problems even from water. I left the Student Dorm and reveled in the hushed morning air. Working in Gimbie always feels like a privilege just for the opportunity to see the beautiful hills surrounding the hospital, especially when they are wrapped protectively in a layer of mist yet to be dispelled by the full sun. Once at the hospital, I could feel the entire place coming alive, ready for another crazy day. I waited by Inpatient Pharmacy and soon our Outer Clinics Director arrived. Accompanying him were two young guys who had happily taken him up on his offer to earn a few Birr for carrying out medications. Becky Carlton our super certified nurse and midwife arrived shortly thereafter and a few minutes later Yohannes breezed in to perform his role of construction advisor. Such a great group of people and I was very grateful that each of them was coming. The purpose of the trip for Dawit was to perform a clinic evaluation, collect the receipt books, pay the workers, and negotiate a few points with the government. I would be assisting Dawit with some of these things, and Yohannes and I would also be evaluating the building and water line to determine the necessary steps to fix the problems. Becky was going to work with the employees at the clinic as part of our Training Modules, hoping to assist them with any areas of concern in Obstetrics or Gynecology. Accompanied by our two cheerful carriers, we made it to the main gate but then some visiting farranges had rented a mini-bus and gave us a ride up to the bus station. So we paid the two carriers a bit and used the mini-bus. Once at the depot (aka on the street by the gas station), we piled into a mini-bus. Then we got to witness the brilliance of Mini-bus marketing, Ethiopian style. It is necessary to have at least one “runner” who grabs passengers by the arm and pulls them towards the desired bus. This is accompanied by much shouting from all involved and the “runners” pulling people towards different buses. It is quite entertaining. The main question is always, “Which bus is leaving first?” Once the bus begins to load, it fills exponentially as more people will pile in as they see more people in the bus. Our driver, being a clever fellow, would help people along by turning on his engine as if to indicate immediate departure and then turn it back off once the person was in and had paid the fare. Eventually we were underway on the smooth road to Nekemte. I still had yet to eat or drink anything, but decided against the Sugar Cane being passed around by Dawit. Although it is sometimes risky to turn down somebody’s offer of food over here, as you never want to be rude, I knew that this was the right decision. My stomach and I showed promises of reaching a truce and I was beginning to hope that everything was going to turn out well. Nonetheless, I kept my handy plastic bag close by, just in case. Once in Nekemte, we went through an extended negotiation with the bus guys going to Bako. We all played along with the game, even getting up to leave the bus once or twice, but we eventually persuaded them to carry our medications. Besides, we were negotiating from a position of weakness as they knew they had to be one of the last buses out to Bako that day. The road from Nekemte to Bako is pretty bad, no matter what your frame of mind, but hey, at least my seat partner was a small girl. Plus, I was on the aisle so I kicked my legs out. Looking on the positive side, I got tons of thrills just like the ones from a roller-coaster for no additional cost! As my stomach moved around, I was quite happy I had turned down the sugar cane. As we traveled, the four of us kept up a happy chatter. During this leg of the trip, we discussed Gimbie Adventist College of Health Sciences which cranks out nurses and midwives and of which Becky is the dean. Traveling with these guys is always hilarious and the people are what makes a trip great, not the circumstances. Fortunately, we were just getting started on the awesomeness. Once in Bako, we set off to find some FOOD! I was by now fantasizing about a nice cold Mirinda (Orange soda). Once we arrived at a little spot, I gulped down two of the things. I attempted to go with the more bland option of pasta instead of my usual favorite, Shiro, but the pasta which arrived was loaded with onions. I apologized to my beleaguered stomach and ate it greedily. My stomach responded with waves of nausea but they eventually passed without incident. Our next objective was to secure bus tickets. So, like any good unit, we divided and conquered. Dawit went to get tickets, Becky guarded the drugs, and Yohannes and I went to get a water faucet for the clinic. We all returned and then spent a few hours chilling under an awning drinking tea and being goofy. Ethiopian tea is the best stuff around. In the meantime, Becky and I designed some tourist t-shirts which are sure to be best-sellers: “I 3> Bako!” “I left my Halo in Bako!” “Bako is the Best!” “Bako or Bust!” so yes, when you see these on the streets of New York, you can think of B. Carlton and T. Pender Fashion Design. After boosting the tourist industry, we left for Harto. This town is the definition of a super small little village over here. Just a few buildings along the muddy road. By the time we arrived, it was too dark to press on the distance remaining to the clinic as Dawit couldn’t remember the route exactly he said, there were apparently bandits plus wild animals, and we were hungry. It was at this time that we were introduced to the Committee of Yohannes. Yohannes and his stomach became dictators for the rest of the trip, through their decisions which he announced to the rest of us. I horrified him with the comment that we could just fast the rest of the way… “WHY???” Just kidding Yohannes, just kidding. So we grabbed a hotel. At this point, Dawit decided that all bugs in our rooms must die and emptied a can of bug killer in there. All the bugs died all right along with a few small children walking by and most of my alveoli collapsed. While we waited for our rooms to quit smoking, we chilled in the courtyard, then went to get some food. We found a great place and had amazing Shiro (always a safe bet because to make properly you must boil it). Afterwards, since it was not that late although it was dark, we took a walk out of Harto on the road. In the United States, especially near populated areas, it is easy to forget just how much light pollution there is. Here in Harto, you could really see the beauty of the stars. After our walk, we snuggled together for the night. Much better acquainted by the next morning, we arose early. As the morning sun came up, we left Harto on the dirt road and headed towards Green Lake. It was a stunning morning, as the mists came off the fields and dispersed the sunlight into fascinating patterns, which in turn transformed every acacia tree into a stunning masterpiece. Descending out of the hills, we walked into the lush plain. The plain was ringed by rocky hills on three sides, but opened up into a vast space on one side in which lies the great lake and marsh area which gives the clinic its name. It was stunning. The committee of Yohannes proposed some food so we ate glucose crackers and dry biscuits which were decent together. At this point Becky and Yohannes took off walking at a blitzing pace and Dawit and I were left to stroll along. I took lots of pictures and it was a great walk. When I first arrived in Africa, Mr. Howe (GAH CEO) told me that the success of my work would depend on relationships. I was very grateful therefore, that Dawit (Outer Clinics Director) and I get along so well. We finally caught up with the two sprinters under a tree and munched on some sugar cane. A lady in a mud hut felt sorry for us and brought out some corn for us to eat. This gesture was quite touching, as I am sure she did not have tons of food to share with random strangers. We gave her some sugar cane. Several hours later we arrived at the clinic. We attempted to estimate the distance and settled on 8-10 miles. All did quite well except Dawit who inconceivably left on his hoodie and two layers of jackets until we finally convinced him to take them off. Henceforth he did much better and I am sure his body temperature went down 3 degrees. Once at the clinic, we did a precursory examination and then were once again compelled by Yohannes Tummy Inc. to get a snack. This time we ate some sugar beet stalks which were much better than the sugar cane although they failed to support our future dentists as well. I have gotten much better at ripping the tough outer layer off with my teeth, and I am sure my dentist will enjoy this in years to come as I fund his college education fund for his kids. Ah, it probably keeps the plaque off, haha. After also eating some Injera and beets, Yohannes and I measured all of the materials needed for clinic repair while Dawit started in on the paperwork. Once that was completed we went to investigate the great water line question: “Why was there no water at the clinic?” hmm, because the line was basically an aerated hose perhaps. There were so many holes, it was amazing any water was making it to the lower quadrants. On one hand, it is possible to see why the people are so eager to sabotage our line, after all, they need water as well. However, our first priority is to supply the clinic with water. This clinic is one of the only health-care centers in this area. The only other health-care provider does not even stock medications to sell to the public. After considering these facts and the importance of water, we decided to at least check on the possibility of drilling a well within the clinic compound. This would allow the people to continue to utilize our shattered line, while assuring the clinic would always have water. We are starting to gather information about this. On that note, if anybody out there would be interesting in learning more about this project, please let me know. After our exciting day following the water line, we returned to the clinic in great spirits. By now, we were all best friends. The head nurse had arranged some local honey for us and it was the perfect conclusion to the long day of walking. There is no electricity at the clinic, so we ate by candles. The families that live there to serve at the clinic fed us and were very nice. That evening, we also finished up most of the bookkeeping for the clinic. We took a quick walk out to look at the stars here, which were even clearer than in Harto, since here there was NO electricity. We slept peacefully, tired from all of our walking during the day. I also made a fascinating discovery that latrines are alive when I peered down into one with my super bright headlamp! Oh the joy. In the morning, we ate breakfast, finished up the paperwork, and went out to our horses. In between, Becky trained the head nurse on family planning, rape consultations, and general gynecology. Well, there was 1 horse. Somehow, I was delegated to the smallest little mule, who had tons of idiosyncrasies. No matter how much I encouraged him, he would only get super close to the animal in front. We have some great pictures of me on a tiny creature in a ditch where it looks like my feet are dragging the ground. Yohannes made great time, mainly because he grabbed the whip and used it on his horse the whole way! Poor critter. I took advantage of my mule’s stupidity by getting behind Yohannes. My mule was no compelled to follow the horse ahead despite its crazy pace, so he did so until he was panting heavily. Then he decided that we should stop and get some grain as that is where he usually went. After he and I had a nice little meeting on this, accompanied by several Ethiopians pushing him back on the road, we continued. Once in Harto, Yohannes made a fateful decision. He bought a pumpkin. Now this might sound trivial, but let me assure you it was not. Yohannes loved his pumpkin very much! He got it for only 10 birr! A steal, he assured us his kids would eat on the pumpkin for a week. In my opinion, Yohannes’ kids must not eat much but anyway. For the rest of the trip, the theme of Yohannes and his pumpkin would be repeated. After eating some great Shiro again, we went off to the government office to see why they had quit giving us propane. Here Dawit started doing his most valuable trait: government office negotiator supreme. He was eloquent, he was humble, he was assertive, he shook hands and patted shoulders. This was despite the fact that the reason they gave us for our propane stoppage was we had started reporting we were seeing no maternal patients! Puzzling development which either indicated horrible reporting or laziness on our head nurse. Somehow, Dawit still managed to convince them that we deserved propane and it was partially their responsibility to ensure our head nurse did his work. Not sure how he pulled that off, but hey, sounds good! We left their office with Yohannes slightly agitated as he had left his pumpkin with the people at the restaurant. He retrieved it just in time for us to board the bus to Bako. We ended up crammed behind the driver’s seats. I was holding my backpack, Becky was behind a huge pile of luggage, and Yohannes was holding his pumpkin by the door. Dawit had somehow finagled his way into the seat up front. Hmmm, maybe his skills were not only applied to the Outer Clinics. However, despite being comfortably jammed, we soon had to get out for the two flat tires. This caused some consternation in Yohannes, as he had to leave his pumpkin on the bus. Technically, I guess he didn’t have to, but he didn’t want to carry it either. So he just worried about it. I left my backpack on the bus too, what could go wrong? Dumb. So I chilled on the hill and watched the unreal view behind the bus and eventually the two tires were fixed. With the exception of the one, where we just left it off the dually. Who needs tires anyway? Pssshhhh. Back in the bus, I was now still within sight of my backpack and Yohannes was reunited with his pumpkin. But alas, we were to stop again. The bus had no power! Problem. So we got to chill on the hill again, with an even more unreal view. The entire valley was visible in the setting sun, with the lake in the distance. It is hard to imagine a more beautiful picture. Yohannes and Becky and I took turns taking pictures of each other way too close and laughing hysterically while Dawit worried down by the bus. Foolish Dawit, worrying about things like actually reaching a town. Once the bus was ready to go, a kid wanted 5 birr from us, which he said we would give him if he gave us 10. This confused him quite a bit, enough to get us on the bus without further demands. Now we had a problem, Yohannes pumpkin was out of his sight under a seat. Horrors! Meanwhile, I couldn’t see my backpack anymore. This was disconcerting. Also disconcerting was our new seating arrangement. We were still in the same spot, but there was no floor, revealing the engine and muffler. I had my feet on the edge of this great divide. Meanwhile, one guy was there with a jug with two little plastic lines running out of it. Who needs a fuel pump? Not us! Refills were under the seats which had to be poured in. The situation was so hilarious it was easy to forget the things that could go wrong here. Eventually fuel was sloshing across the hot engine block and smoke was rising. It was at this point I made a great discover: diesel fumes made my nose stop running! I am not sure if this will be FDA approved or not, but hey, it worked. Becky and I tried to take a picture of the whole thing it was so ridiculous. Somehow, someway we made it to Bako, that tourist capitol of the world. Yohannes retrieved his precious pumpkin and I grabbed my backpack but not before some guy handed me my cellphone. Hmm, my cellphone had been in my backpack. How did it get out? Well, upon investigating, the filter that Austin Dice had loaned me was gone. This was worth a few hundred and I did not relish donating it. So I got back on the bus after convincing myself I had not left it in Green Lake. There was a nice negotiation with the guy who had held the plastic jug which ended with me reclaiming my baggage for free. Hmmph. I was very thankful to God for watching out for me there. We went and got a hotel after leaving the farranges outside to get a better rate. This hotel had a super deep latrine, which I discovered after I looked into it to see how many alive things were in there. It was at least 50 feet deep! After this amazing contribution to Western Knowledge, we went and got a platter full of meat. So after that, we re-ordered after discussing with them how they got every kind of meat possible out of “no meat pasta please.” On the plus side, a cute cat came by and started wailing at me. So I fed the cat most of the meat until Yohannes ate it all. Meanwhile Becky attended to more important matters and fed a street kid. I guess we could tell who used to b ea pre-vet kid. Unfortunately, the cat gave away my sympathies by wailing when I had to stop my feeding when Yohannes ate it all. Back in the hotel we took some great photos of us all passed out in the same room. Then I started contemplating the intricacies of life as I stared at the ceiling. My body decided this was the perfect time to wage war on the troublesome bacterial invaders by elevating the temperature of the system. Also, the mosquito population was quite high in the room. So I didn’t get loads of sleep. But regardless, we arose in great spirits. Yohannes announced his hunger, but there was nothing to do as the bus was leaving. Three hours later, we rolled into Nekemte and attacked some food. We got a very decent pizza which surprised us all quite a bit. We finished off our meal with stacks of bread covered in honey, a traditional Ethiopian dish to cover up our traitor eating of Western food. We tried with futility to find a printer cartridge, but could not. However, we got some prices for construction. We eventually boarded a nice bus, but did have to wait for them to loop around the city. Yohannes still had his pumpkin. I still had my water filter. We all were happy. The ride back to Nekemte was quite nice as Becky and I got stuck up front, switching positions with Dawit so we got the front view. The bus driver was pretty cool, even stopping to pick up a blind guy who was wandering along the road. He told them he was trying to get to Dimbie Dolo which was going to take some doing, but at least he got as far as Gimbie. Back in Gimbie, we walked back through the drizzling rain. It was truly a great trip and we said goodbye with more jokes about Yohannes and his precious pumpkin. I bounced back into the Student Dorm and attempted to tell my stories but eventually just settled on eating.
So yes, it was quite a trip. I know this was pretty long, but there was a lot to tell! If you are still with me at this point, just a few more thoughts. The first edition above was just me reciting the more negative points of the journey. Sure, they happened, but that is not how I remember the trip. In the second, I tried to tell the positive thoughts I had during the trip. It is also important to note that the second included the people. At the end of the day, it is not where you are at, but who you are with. Dawit, Yohannes, and Becky were a great crew and we made the best of everything. The trip was a lot of fun! We also got a lot of work done. It is entirely possible to have a posh trip but have a much worse time if the people were no fun.
I have heard a lot of Student Mission stories. Some of them are just the person trying to glorify their struggles and hardships. Not these do not happen, but should that be the focus? These include recitals of all the emotional struggles the person went through. I remember when I was taking the SM classes, I heard a lot about “culture shock” and lots of advice on how to deal with it. Perhaps part of that is just giving yourself a license to have a rough few weeks in the new place. You know it is different, so adjust and deal with it! I never had any terrible moments in Ethiopia, at least not in the way described. You will find what you look for. If you go overseas and want to find the hardships, you can find them. If you want to focus on your pathetic sniveling self and document all of your emotional ups and downs you can do that too. If you want to make the fumes saturating your face when they take the floorboards out of your bus a bad thing you can, or you can use this as a great opportunity to take some pictures of your feet on either side of an engine while fuel is being poured into it! You get to choose.
This applies to all of life. God will always give us blessings, we just have to choose to accept them.
In conclusion, I would like to thank Becky, Dawit, and Yohannes for being such amazing troopers on the trip. I would like to also thank the donors supporting ADRA and the administrative staff of ADRA for their support of the Outer Clinics. I would like to thank all of my personal donors as well, your prayers and support keep me going. May God bless you all!
Postscript: Yohannes and his pumpkin arrived safely. The ants and spiders were happy to see me again although I fortunately have not had to spend lots of time with them again… yet.
