You are reading my diary

Test post

Location: Somewhere near Baghdad. (upwards)
Time 20.20 Saturday 3^rd May 2014

I have had this blog for over a year now, but to my shame I have thus far been too meek/lazy to upload anything.  If I manage to keep possession of this small computer long enough to find an internet connection then these words will become the inaugural post of an actual, proper, web-log published on the actual, proper, worldwide web, with the potential to be read by in excess of literally some people (hopefully, it’s mainly just for me.)

This first post is a proof of two important concepts. 1, my trusty though well-weathered netbook retains word-processing capability, and, 2, this URL still exists despite many months of complete inactivity.

I will be using this URL to as an online back-up of my own memory - to document the experiences of myself and intrepid co-traveller (let's call her Mary, her name). I will be recording events and musings in relation to the world of medicine and its practise in Tanzania, but I expect there will also be several more personal, tedious, gushing, and lengthy posts on my spiritual-political-cultural experiences and minute-by-minute progress on the finding of myself. Perhaps some pictures and other thoughts too, we’ll see.

I’ll state here that I intend to keep the medical jargon to a minimum, partly so as not to exclude any non-medical friends, family and strangers that might accidentally find themselves on this page, but mostly so as not to hamper any lucrative future book/travel column deal that arises in the future.

Okay enough of the admin, the next bit records the story so far.

THE STORY SO FAR

Day1

The medical elective is an odd tradition whereby unqualified but semi-trained medics are encouraged to explore the world with the intention of learning some medicine in a dark corner somewhere, or getting in the way in a different hospital for a change. I decided to go to spend a month at a rural hospital near Kilimanjaro to learn a bit about tropical medicine in a poorer country, happily finding a like-minded companion in Mary. Pending exam results we both now know enough medicine and surgery* to work as a junior doctor in the UK. Definitely quite a frightening prospect, but hopefully we will be able to be of greater than zero use at the hospital.

The day after my final exam we packed our respective passports and stethoscope into a rucksack and were very kindly abandoned at Heathrow airport by Mary’s Dad. So far we have had no problems. I’ve had quite a dramatic pre-elective near-skinhead haircut the result of which is that I am at maximal levels of menacing-looking, manifested in my hand-luggage being tested for explosives (none found). A Pret-a-manger egg sandwich later and now we’re on an aeroplane headed for Doha, I’m having difficulty typing in the dark. My current impression: Qatar airlines > Ryanair.  We won’t land in Doha for another 2 hours so there’s time for me to watch a film on the fancy seatback computer. Maybe an Arabic one, haven’t decided yet.

*but zero obstetrics or gynaecology or paediatrics or A+E.  Luckily all of these are of no importance.

Day 2

A review of Doha and Kilimanjaro Airports
First impressions of Tanzania and Machame Hospital

Doha is super busy and kind of gross. It brings to mind other identical busy gross airports, but boasts connections to 900 destinations worldwide.

Slight confusion with the second plane, the ticket says to Kilimanjaro but we landed in Dar es Salaam causing brief panic. After almost everyone got off the plane we then flew another 50mins to arrive where we wanted to be, at 9am. This should probably have been quite obvious but at this point I was noticeably cognitively impaired by the preceding sleepless night and previous week’s exams.

Kilimanjaro airport is tiny and charming. Wits were tested at the border: according to our tourist visa any paid or unpaid work is forbidden, and I was suspiciously unable to provide neither an address of where we were staying nor an itinerary of our 7 week “holiday”. However, we were waved through without event and were welcomed by a torrential downpour, which I'm assured are frequent due to it being the rainy season. We got a taxi partway up Kilimanjaro mountain to the rainforest section and Machame Lutheran hospital.

We soon met with two students from Imperial who’ve been at Machame for about a month and who helpfully  explained the set-up of the hospital and our accommodation. I learnt that if I sit underneath the satellite dish I can sometimes connect to the internet and so can upload my blog. 

The four of us then made our way to the nearish town of Moshi (about an hour’s drive) so we could find some cash, food and drink. The way to Moshi requires boarding a Daladala for 1000 shillings (about 35p), a battered Toyota minivan crammed with around 20 sweaty people that tears daringly down the pot-holed tracks, often with the door left wide open and people literally clinging on for their lives.

I took out 400,000Shillings – about £150 (soberingly this is more than a year’s salary for some of the local people) and spent a bit of it before going home. The people are surprisingly friendly. My task this evening is to learn a few Swahili and get more than a few scraps of sleep.

Tomorrow is the first hospital day.