In Which Hard Work Requires A Lemony Reward
on Zoe Page (Sierra Leone), 06/Oct/2010 20:50, 34 days ago
So, I’m up early because the neighbourhood dogs (of whom there are dozens) decide to join in the call to prayer, baying away at 4.30am. Yay. I feel bad about not being in work, so once I’m up (and, ok, have watched another episode of a certain gymnastics-based drama) I power up iTunes and listen to one of the recent Health Check podcasts about the Millennium Development Goals. They’re a big deal here. Then I start to read the NHSSP and it’s sobering stuff, particularly the page that tells of the HR capacity needed, and the HR capacity actually in place in the country. Bearing in mind SL isroughly the size of Wales, and has a population of 5.5 million (Wales’s is approx 3 million) should put this into context:SKILLNUMBER REQUIREDNUMBER IN POSTSurgeon265Paediatrician302Midwife30095General physician263Obstetrician / Gynaecologist265Dentist306When this document was written, the country had no neuro surgeons (where’s Dr McDreamy when you need him?), nephrologists, gastroenterologists, psychiatrists...not a single one in the whole country.These numbers don’t include the many NGO doctors who move in and out of the country (we brought in 2 Paediatricians, and a GP / general physician with my cohort, plus an ED doctor who is going to be working in education) but do show the severe lack of local staff. There’s a huge brain drain here with qualified staff quite sensibly moving north where the money is better, but it does mean there are probably more Sierra Leonean doctors in Manchester than there are in SL, which is quite a scary thought.As I read the docs, I also discover that there’s a whole new world of abrbreeviations for me to learn. Goody. There are MCHPs, staffed by MCH Aides and TBAs. SECHNs work in CHCs with a CHO. The list goes on. And on. There are 3 pages of acronyms and abbreviations at the start and I don’t think more than a small handful would match those used in the NHS.It’s heavy work and I need a few lemon cream puffs to recover.Daniel said he would be here at 11am. He rings me at 3pm to say he is in Kenema. He arrives a good 45 minutes later. Considering I can walk through the town in under half an hour, this is interesting... I sit out on the top of the outside steps to wait, as it has sun before the rest of the balcony. It is friggin’ hot during the moments between cloud. Soltan Cooling SPF 25 Spray rocks.Mr Barry shows up with the electrician’s junior in tow. He practices electricianing in a scary manner that would certainly not pass a City and Guilds exam, but he does manage to fix a socket and a couple of the lights. While he does this, Daniel makes a list of furnitures (sic) we need. Then he and Mr Barry have a heated discussion while I gaze out of the window. Then the driver (VSO staff don’t drive themselves) picks up a snapshot I got out to show Maria and again asks me if I have a child and if this is it. I need to get back to my bony, non-child bearing hips pronto. It is a photo of me. The fact that it is from circa 1983should give this away.Mr Barry and Daniel discuss again, this time about Junior. Mr Barry wants to know if I want him to retain him to do some small-small jobs around the house. I say no, thanks. That boy is obsessed with cleaning, and telling me I’ve hung my washing out incorrectly. Plus he empties bins that only have one item in. They then wonder whether, instead, he could be on site security, and sleep downstairs. Again, I decline. Am I sure? Would I not feel safer with him there? What, with a random bloke sleeping in the same house as me, with keys that open all the doors? Am I really being that paranoid? I’ve had enough of having to take dozens of keys with me when I go out, and remembering which doors to leave unlocked. I need to stop moving my valuables from room to room to accommodate the access requirements of the carpenters and electricians. I explain that in ‘my culture’ (always a winner here) I would much prefer to be locked into an empty house alone than to be locked into a house empty but for a random man who understands what he wants to, and disturbingly believes himself to be 15 years old. The driver laughsand I really,reallywant to tell him that in spite of this, I’d jump into bed with Junior before I’d let him within 100 meters of the house after dark.Maria and I go to Capitol. There is a table of what I think are Pumwis, but she assures me they are Lebanese, and so although not African, they don’t count as Pumwis either. I have so much to learn, though #1 on the list for tonight is that the Greek Salad is not worth it, and, since as far as I know it’s pretty hard to grate Feta, the menu lies. It LIES. The olives are kinda nice though.