The last hoorah - well almost

It’s been a frenetic couple of weeks. So much coming and going in the house, first the arrival of the Chief Nurse of Western Australia and her son, and the GHAWA Project Director.   Two men overturned the “girlie” status of the house - in a nice way! 

 

The last breakfast!!

 

We’ve had the TV on for the first time in at least 7 weeks - for news. We haven’t really been concerned about the goings on of the world up to now (actually we still aren't - those wretched warnings we receive about problems travelling in Africa are more than sufficient) and certainly haven’t had time for the box, apart from one movie night.  We headed to Stone Town in Zanzibar while Mark spent the weekend doing what Program Directors have to do - work. He was here to meet the right people for the continuance of the program and to ensure the final arrangements for the opening of the GHAWA classroom at the Muhimbili Advanced School of Nursing and Midwifery on the 4^thDecember, the one in which we have been teaching the Muhimbili midwives since arriving in Tanzania.

 

He was at the airport to meet us and suggested that before going home we should go to the Kilamanjaro Hotel that overlooks the ferry terminal to watch the sunset.  It was magnificent.  We heard the news that Brodie never made it on to the mountain.  He got sick before even starting but that his mother was walking for them both. What a woman!

 



 View from the top

 

The intrepid mountaineers returned intact and ready for the next adventure.

On Sunday morning we headed to Kariokoo Market. This is THE place to go, to mingle with the wananchi ("citizens") explore the myriad stalls. We had expected to find trinkets to take back as gifts to Australia however this wasn’t the case.  However the ladies did purchase 10 pairs of sandals at Tsh 15000 each thanks to my colleague’s great bargaining skills.  Skills honed during her time living in Hong Kong. We were able to get a little Swahili repartee going too. Most of which I have to admit to not understanding. We were mesmerised by a gang of workers breaking rocks, piling them in buckets (the older men) while the younger men literally ran with them on their heads to an enormous cement mixer, and another group carried the buckets wet cement on their heads up the planks into a building.  What awesome physiques they all had.

 



By the time we were ready to go home I was already in my own private swimming pool, only far less refreshing.  I was however very satisfied with my sandals.  Even if they only last one wear - they are gorgeous.

We were all up with the crows and the mosque early morning call to prayers, for work on Monday. A new course at Muhimbili Hospital. Bright informed us that the start time was only 10:00 so we continued with work at home. Misinformation Africa style, not his fault. The participants were waiting for us - since 08:30. Fortunately they are very forgiving.

 

I went in search of a friend of a friend of my sisters (what a mouthful). She and her husband had been robbed and beaten up in Mbezi Beach area. She sustained a broken leg and glass cuts. Now Muhimbili is an enormous campus. I must have walked its length about 4 times and looked through several registers before finding there were no mzungus in the designated ward. It seems she had been transferred from the Orthopaedic ward to the Disability Hospital not far from our house and from there, and in traction, sent home. Zanzibar Beach Resort had returned to haunt me. Semmy to the rescue. I stayed in bed for 2 more days and with a bit of self diagnosis (plus that of my learned colleagues), commenced antibiotics and hey presto felt better by Thursday. Who needs a doctor??