Sleepless nights, sea turtles and sparkly water

So I suspect this will be my final post for a while as I’m not sure people will be as interested in reading about my adventures (or lack of) in the UK!  It’s been a busy week and I don’t think it’s quite sunk in yet that I’m leaving Tanzania for good tomorrow.  I’ve had two leaving parties in Ndanda – one with the staff on my ward and one with the other volunteers.  I had been slightly dreading the party with my ward staff – not because I didn’t want to go out with them, but because Tanzanian parties are somewhat different from what I'm used to and, for someone who doesn’t much like being the centre of attention, has the rhythm of a dead fish and an abject fear of public speaking, they are a terrifying prospect.  The classic Tanzanian sherehe (party) is very much along the lines of a UK wedding with a top table, speeches, an MC, lots of dancing and lots of present giving (also done with dancing which is expected from both the giver and receiver).  They are also usually arranged by a committee and all guests are expected to pay quite a lot of money to attend!  The thought of this brought me out in a cold sweat, so I was incredibly relieved that the nurses were happy just to go out for food at the local nun-bar with no expectation of top tables, all night dancing, MCs or planning committees.  I didn’t entirely manage to avoid speeches, dancing or presents but I discovered I am actually less nervous about giving a speech in Swahili that I am in English – mistakes being kind of expected and acceptable!  Edina informed me that I had managed to say 'good words' and that I hadn’t made too many mistakes so that was all good.  As can be seen from the picture below, I was presented with a lot of lovely material to make clothes and cushion covers from back home, and one piece with faces of the Tanzanian presidents on lest I forget them!  Many nice words were said by the staff – not all fully understood by me but Rashidi assured me they were all nice as he tried to provide a translation service where possible.  It was all a bit emotional, and was capped off by me providing a taxi service home for the staff not living in Ndanda.  This involved some fairly interesting off-road driving in the dark with people telling me that it really wasn’t that much further (not true!). 

I had expected the party with the volunteers to be a relaxing experience in comparison, but with the benefit of hindsight, having it on the day before I had to leave (at 5.30am) may not have been the best idea.  I don’t do well with packing and have always been inclined to put it off until the last possible minute, when I really can’t distract myself from the task any longer.  I thought I didn’t have that much stuff to pack and I thought it wouldn’t actually take that long, but having spent a year and a half here this was clearly ridiculous!  After a day spent frantically trying to cook, pack, visit people to say goodbye and take pictures, I was a little stressed by the time the party was due to start.  This wasn’t helped much by the fact I had decided that it was a good time to defrost my freezer so, amidst all the chaos, large pools of water kept forming and spreading across the kitchen floor.  I think this was probably something that would have been better done a couple of days before leaving but luckily some wonderful friends and fellow volunteers took it upon themselves to sort the fridge out (probably after detecting signs of an imminent mental breakdown on my part) and all was ok.  After accepting the fact that I would have to stay up all night to finish packing and organising everything I was leaving behind into piles, I did eventually relax enough to enjoy myself.  It was lovely to have the opportunity to say goodbye to the people that have got me through the last year and a half and with whom I have shared some wonderful experiences.

Leaving was fairly traumatic (probably not helped by the fact I had no sleep whatsoever and had to leave very early), but I had a trip to Chumbe Island to look forward to and the thought of this eased the pain somewhat.  Incredibly all stages of the journey went smoothly, and by Friday afternoon I was sitting on the beach in Zanzibar with a cold beer watching the sunset while a crazy man nearly flipped his truck trying to get it onto a ferry (I was informed that I shouldn’t be taking pictures because it was a military truck but this kind of thing is too good to be forgotten and since he was carrying coke and beer not rocket launchers  I figured the rules didn’t count). 

A very determined truck driver - A LOT of bottles were broken during this escapade! 

Anyway, Chumbe Island Coral Park is a private nature reserve with eco-lodge just off the coast of Zanzibar.  I’d heard about it through a friend who is living in Zanzibar and after being promised sea turtles swimming wild I was determined to visit!  I closed my eyes when they gave me the bill and tried hard to forget the starving children.  Luckily the company is non-commercial and I could feel a little better about the indulgence by thinking about all the conservation, research and education that will be done with the money – we saw a group of school children arriving as we left so I'm fairly confident they weren't lying about this.  Now, I’ve never stayed anywhere like it before so can’t really compare eco-lodges, but I can say that it was absolutely amazing and easily one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever stayed!  The staff were fantastic, food was great, setting was stunning and most importantly we saw turtles.  I should probably point out that when I say I was promised turtles this may not have been exactly how the conversation went but I had undoubtably set my heart on seeing them.  When my friend Wendy  waved me over shouting 'turtle' I nearly died of excitement!  My first response to seeing him (or her) lazily paddling around below me was to  let out a ridiculous high-pitched girly scream (through a snorkel), grab hold of Wendy's wrist and set off in pursuit.  In the end we managed to go snorkeling 3 times and saw turtles on every occasion (they did not lose their appeal!)  We were also lucky enough to see sting rays, lobsters, a crocodile fish, giant clams in a range of colours and many, many fish of every colour combination imaginable.  I could happily have spent all day floating around, especially since I was able to borrow a sunsuit to wear, and therefore avoided looking like a well cooked lobster.  Obviously I did look totally ridiculous in the suit which was very much like the all-in-one pyjamas I wore as a child (although not fleecy), about 3 sizes too big and more than a little saggy around the bottom half – well worth it to avoid sunburn I decided! 

View from the lighthouse



The island was also home to crabs of all shapes and sizes and I got a little carried away taking pictures!  The coconut crabs were enormous and apparently we didn’t even see the really big ones – I was just impressed that he had managed to get into the coconut himself and was able to drag it round the island with him to eat later.  After the evening walk to see the coconut crabs, I indulged in some night-time swimming under a cloudless sky with absolutely thousands of stars twinkling above.  It took me a while to notice that the water was also twinkling around me and, for only the second time in my life, I saw phosphorescence (or is it bioluminescence?) while swimming.  I absolutely cannot describe how incredible it was but I would suspect anyone that knows me will realise that I was more than a little excited by the whole thing.  It was only the fact that I still needed to catch up on sleep that tempted me out of the water!

For anyone interested here is the website: http://www.chumbeisland.com/home 



I think this guy suspected me of wanting to steal his hole.



Excitingly there was a hermit crab highway outside our hut which opened just as the sun started to set



A coconut crab usefully carrying a coconut just to show how big he is!



Sadly, as with all good things, the trip had to come to an end and we headed back to Zanzibar the next morning.  I could happily have stayed much longer on the island, but my flight home is already booked and final meetings needed to be had, bags repacked and blogs written.  I may or may not add to this over the next few months but I will definitely start writing again once I head off south to meet the penguins. 

Highs and lows and the countdown to leaving

I will start with tales of last weekend because it was very wonderful and I want to make use of the lovely pictures I have stolen from the people I was staying with.  My last New Year in Tanzania was very pleasant as I spent it sitting on a rock on top of a nearby hill with great company, a lot of stars and some Amarula.  Since I totally failed to do any advanced planning this year with regards to New Year celebrations it was kind of lucky that it all worked out so well in the end.  I decided to make a final trip to Mtwara and thus boarded the daladala on the Friday evening hoping for the best.  My plan mostly revolved around the people staying in the beach house allowing me to sleep on the floor since there is nowhere else quite so lovely (affordable) to stay in Mtwara and I already knew it was fully booked.  Luckily they had an even better idea and I spent my final weekend in one of my favourite places in Tanzania in a mosquito-net tent looking up at the stars, smelling the sea and listening to the wind rustling the leaves of the coconut trees above me.  Admittedly the wind did pick up quite significantly on the first night around 2am just before it started to rain.  As you can probably imagine mosquito-net tents are not totally suited to this situation and my perfect night was somewhat disturbed when I had to evacuate the tent rather quickly and then do battle with the wind to get it and myself under the veranda before we both got soaked.

View from the breakfast table - I think I might miss this quite a lot!

Mtwara market

Looking down over the harbour, fish market and random half-sunk ship

A very colourful collection of people waiting for the ferry

The tides were also in my favour this weekend and I managed a night-time swim both evenings with a slither of a moon and a sky-full of stars above me as I floated around with the sea to myself.  On the Saturday I was joined by some other volunteers that are working in Tandahimba Hospital (significantly more remote than Ndanda) who were far more organised than me and had rooms booked and everything.  They also had extravagant ideas for a New Year BBQ and as can be seen from the photo below we ate pretty well (including fresh fish steamed in banana leaves with ginger, chili and lime).  I mostly chopped things, mixed mayonnaise with pasta and tomatoes and turned kebabs.  All the complicated stuff was managed by the others who did an amazing, amazing job and it was surprising that I could float at all that night after the amount of food consumed!  It was a lovely weekend, with great people that I have been incredibly lucky to get to know at that I will miss greatly when I leave Tanzania.

Slightly healthier and more varied than my usual diet

Breakfast - I suspect I'll be less excited about cornflakes once I'm back home

Coming back to work after a weekend in Mtwara is usually a bit tricky and my motivation is not always what it could be.  However, my first ward round of the week included a conversation that went along the lines of:

"So you've stopped vomiting for the first time in a month - that's great!  Any other problems?"


"Well I lost one of my front teeth over the weekend because the crazy patient in the side room decided to fight me and knocked it out"

"Er right. Sorry about that. Erm would you like to see the dentist?"

"Not really, my mouth hurts quite a lot but I'd like to have permission for discharge today."

"Oh, er, right.  And you're sure you don't want to see the dentist?"

"No, no and I'm very grateful for all your help, thanks so much"

"Right, I don't suppose you know whether she's still crazy and likely to knock one of my front teeth out do you?"

It is possible that some of the conversation got lost in translation but I think it went something like that.  There was definitely no mention of suing the hospital, the doctor or the other patient; but then I don't think the "where there's blame there's a claim" adverts have quite reached rural Tanzania yet.  Luckily, whilst the patient responsible for the tooth loss was still less than lucid, she didn't feel the need to punch me in the face at any point and the drugs kicked in half way through the week so all is now a lot quieter on the ward.

The week unfortunately didn't end on such a positive note as one of my very few regularly attending diabetic patients passed away this morning.  She had been admitted to my ward for a long time after some mouse bites on her toes became infected (mouse bites and diabetic feet not being a great combination).  She sadly needed to have one foot amputated and I have to admit to feeling pretty proud of myself for managing to arrange this despite some fairly significant difficulties in the surgical department recently.  She had initially been doing fine but I was called to see her a few days after the operation as she was 'not quite right' or at least the Swahili equivalent of this heart-sink phrase that is used regularly in the UK.  It was obvious that her speech was altered and soon became apparent that she had lost the use of her left arm and leg and in fact didn't even acknowledge that they existed.  This is pretty much as bad as it gets in terms of a prognosis considering it was her right leg that was amputated and I guess the final outcome was the best thing that could have happened.  The problem is that I still haven't managed to get used to the way that Tanzanians tend to express grief - very vocally with a lot of screaming, wailing and often collapsing to the floor.  I always find it incredibly distressing as I have no idea what to do or say, where to look and I have to admit that the rather more understated way people grieve back home is much easier to deal with as a doctor.  The nurses have to reassure me every time I witness this that it is a completely normal way for people to react here and that the relatives don't hate me and hold me totally responsible for the death of their loved one.  I'm fairly sure that even if I was here for 20 years I would still struggle with this particular cultural difference.

Just to prove that I do actually do some work and don't just go swimming in Mtwara

Baby weighing Ndanda style