Week 5+6: the end

It's weird how you anticipate something ending. All of a sudden firsts turn into lasts and things that have become normal become special because you won't be doing them again. That's my philosophical blurb of the day, now let's get on with the blog.
I started my fifth week being creative. Yes, you read that right: creative. We were offered a painting class by the lovely Projects Abroad people. Now here's the deal: I am not creative at all. I have a hard time drawing a straight line even with a ruler and in Arts and Crafts class I would always copy the example works. Thankfully the painter had loads of those. He helped us where we needed help (I needed help everywhere, I managed to mess up painting a white background) and out came a beautiful painting. I'll post proof of my extraordinary creativity on Facebook soon enough, pinky promise.
Seeing as it was going to be my last week at the hospital me and another volunteer decided we really wanted to see a C-section (hè hè hè punny).
We put on our scrubs (which were far from sterile), borrowed some clogs (which were even more unsterile) and walked into the operation chamber. I have been operated on, but really the only thing I remember about the room is that is was very white and smelled very clean.
This room was not that. There was some nice air condition in there to keep the surgeons cool. There were loads of flies and mosquitos around and on the floor was a dark stain, presumably from blood they just couldn't remove. The equipment looked as if it was in desperate need of replacement and some of the people weren't even wearing mouth masks. They just put some gauze over their mouths (did I already tell you they are quite ingenious with the very little resources. They have?).
The new mom had to walk in by herself and lay down on the operation table which had only just been wiped down, removing most of the blood from the former patient. Then a lot of talking happened with her being half naked in a cold room. After quite a while, it was actually decided that this lady was not fit for surgery as she was anemic. Probably should've told her that half an hour ago.
Luckily me and Anna did get to see a C-section that day. It was pretty intense: they make small incisions but after that they just rip it open. They then cut open the uterus en break the water, which pours out in a huge gust. After they pull the baby out, they try to make it cry and hearing the baby do so, was one of the best sounds I've heard at the hospital.
One of the things I noticed most was that surgeons like to talk about everything else but the surgery. We were asked about where we came from and I talked to a very nice surgeon about Norway not realising that that's where he thought I was from.
Now my last day at the hospital was probably the heaviest day of them all. We arrived at a very chaotic Minor (yes, even more chaotic than normal) and saw one guy on a bed with a humongous wound on his head and another man lying on a stretcher.
He had been in a terrible motorcycle accident. They were trying to find veins to put an IV in, but it wasn't really working. We stood at his bed as we watched the doctors and nurses do their thing and they told us that this man would probably die soon. In my last blog I talked about frustrations but up until know I had never been so frustrated I wanted to cry. Maybe I didn't want to cry because of frustration but just because I felt so sorry for the guy. He looked quite young and was all alone (a women came in with a worried look on her face but didn't pay much attention to him, I was later told it was his mother).
I felt scared and powerless for there was nothing we could do for this man, they didn't even have something like morfine to stop the pain. This was another time when it hit me how much it must suck to work with such little resources. To my surprise he pulled through and later that day he was laying in emergency, waiting to be transported to the national hospital. He wasn't necessarily better but he also didn't look worse. I hope (how much in vain it is, I don't know) that he pulled through.
Having had something that heavy happening the day before, I was quite happy to skip the hospital for a day and go visit an orphanage. We danced and we played and it made me happy to see the kids happy. It also made me happy that these kids have a home away from the streets but again it made me realise how lucky I am. I am thinking of sponsoring one of these kids, having talked to a boy who was now an apprentice electrician. If your thinking about doing something like that, just do it. It'll be next to nothing for you, (like two or three times not eating sushi for lunch) whereas for them it'll be so much.
Now as it was a new month we had a new outreach and visited a school to check the kids for fungal infections on their head. It was as chaotic as it was fun and the kids loved posing for photographs. At one point I basically gave them an aerobics class (video proof can be requested).
To round up my trip to Tanzania I went on safariup north and saw both the Big and Ugly Five. It was as amazing as it sounds. The scenery was stunning, the group was great and the places where I stayed had awesome views. I even put up my own tent with my previous experience (which consists of building two tents) and a little help from others. Pictures will follow on Facebook.
I am writing this blog as I'm about to board my plane to Brussels from Addis Ababa. I have already said goodbye to Tanzania and must admit that I miss it a little. I miss the great people I met there, I miss eating KFC and I even miss the hospital a little. Guess this is goodbye but who knows for how long.

Kwaheri Tanzania!