Evolution

Monday morning, as I was walking to Selian to begin another week on the Internal Medicine wards, I received a call from Sarah asking if Rob and I were available to leave town for a few days to help with the Flying Medical Service Clinics. Are you kidding me? Yes, we were available. Not even a little case of Sultan's Revenge could prevent us from boarding the plane. 1 hour later we were in a cab, bound for Arusha airport, with most of the things we'd need for 3 days in the Tanzanian bush -- and really who needs a change of socks around here anyway? It only takes a 10 minutes walk down the road-footpath-cattle trail to turn everything you own an even shade of brown. Like instant camouflage (sp?). What's amazing is that, in the Tanzanian countryside in times of drought like this one, the only colors you see are browns and grays...until the Maasai people emerge. They wrap themselves in sheets of cloth that are often bright red or deep blue, or patterns of yellow, orange or purple. I have no idea how the colors remain so vibrant. But the vision is actually pretty amazing - the brown huts, the leafless trees, the endless hills of dirt...and the shy, proud people of the Maasai tribes providing every color missing from the landscape.

Our experience with the Flying Medical Service will be hard to describe. Fortunately we have pictures... We spent 3 days in the bush, flying to 2 to 3 different clinics each day and offering exams, vaccinations and medicine to the people of the surrounding area. From the air we saw herds of elephants and ostriches. On the ground we met the people - so different from us, i can't stress that enough. But, although they seemed to think we were interesting and strange too (why do we wear such tightly fitting clothing??), there was common ground on which we worked: we were there to help them and they trust the full-time employees of the flying medicine team. FMS has been doing this for 25 years for these communities, who otherwise have no access to healthcare, and have virtually eradicated certain birth defects and complications as well as diseases like polio from this population. So the village people showed up in pretty impressive numbers, and seemed to appreciate us being there. I learned a lot from our pilot Jack, who has been doing this for the past 7 years and was able to communicate via Swahili (and a bit of Kimaasai when necessary) with these people. He knows that what he does is important for them, and for the overall well-being of Tanzania - and they seem to understand its importance as well.

This photo was taken from the airplane, as were leaving one of the clinic sites. The building on the left is our clinic. The people on the right are actually a group of kids that were particularly (and understandably) fascinated by the plane.

What's amazing is that the people we met have maintained such a simple life over all of these years. They still provide their own food from the land and their livestock, still carry spears for hunting. Most don't wear pants much less underwear. They live in bomas with thatched roofs. They deliver their babies at home, no questions asked. I have no idea if they know what "pasteurized" means. In some ways i felt as different from them as i did an entirely different animal.

This is a photo from the air of a group of Maasai bomas, which are huts with thatched roofs, in which the people live. There are 7 large bomas in this photo, and possibly a couple of small ones.

But here are some things that are the same about us: they care about their kids, and are protective of them and feed them well. Those were some healthy-looking babies, let me assure you. They respect their elders. They mourn loudly and with meaning when someone dies. They laugh with each other when they are happy (sometimes i get the distinct feeling they're laughing at my pathetic attempts at speaking Swahili, but so it goes...)

So, in some very important ways, we're not so different after all. And anyway, what's wrong with eating goat? Plus, being busy is overrated.

Here are a few photos of our experience withFMS in the bush. I'll post more later this week, when I have more time...but for now:

This woman is feeding her son milk from a hollowed gourd.