community

Luckily for my brain and my body, there is not much for me to do here.  I never remember how much I like being busy until I am not.  It is strange to be right next door to labor and delivery and not be able to do anything to help out.  This is actually a good thing for me....a rest.

As far as traveling goes, I spent Monday morning visiting some women in the villages around Moshi.  A friend here is doing a research project that involves asking women about their birth experiences whether in the hospital or at home.  We spoke with a really sweet, laughing woman who could not say anything bad about her experience.  She laughed at everything--especially at herself when she could not sign her name.  She had never been to school.  I could not decide if she was ashamed and the laughter was a cover-up or whether she truly was happy and able to see the good in life.  It is certainly a gift to be able to do that.  Of course, her daughter (1 year old ) was fat and healthy.  Then, we went to another village and tried to find the woman we were to interview but this proved more difficult because people in that village were fairly suspicious of us two white people (mazungu) even though we were with a Tanzanian grandmother.  We did not really get anywhere.  I was sorry because I thought maybe it was made worse because I was there.  In any case, it makes me realize that to really get to know a community and to gain their trust, takes time and persistence.  

Yesterday, we visited a beautiful little district hospital about 90 minutes from Moshi.  The pediatricians gave a lecture there to the staff and then we did some consults.  The labor ward was not busy and seemed uncomplicated but we saw 2 sick children that we brought back to KCMC with us for treatment.  One was 5 days old and likely suffered from asphyxia during a difficult delivery.  This can happen in the States too, but usually he would have gotten more intensive care earlier....and in this case, would have had a cesarean section.  His mom cried when she realized we were concerned....and we have no idea about the prognosis.  The other child was suffering (at 6 years old) from a complication of HIV.  He was so weak, he had to be carried by his mother.  It hurts to see children hurting.