Got Your Goat! Fun in 2007

After our dream vacation touring the game parks and beaches of Kwa Zulu Natal, we journeyed back to our lives as Peace Corps Volunteers in a remote Christian hospital for TB and AIDS, high in the mountains of an indigenous forest. The Greyhound bus pulled into our town, we picked up groceries for the week and rode expectantly up the mountain road to home. In spite of the luxury living the last two weeks, we looked forward to sleeping in our own bed, cooking our own food, tending our garden and taking a shower after the long trip. Two of the four were not to be as a thin trickle of water slithered out of the faucet and then quit upon our arrival. The fan belt had broken on the water pump and a part had to be brought from town. “Let’s check the garden” I suggested to Brendon as I had some anxiety about leaving the beautiful mealy, cabbage and vegetable crops for two weeks. There was plenty of rain in the area during the interlude so all should be well.

The garden looked like it had been hit with a lawn mower! Most of the cabbage plants had been hacked from the inside out and the mealys were sawed off directly across the budding sheaves. What an ugly sight. In addition weeds had sprung up around the decimated cabbage plants. Immediately we suspected those large green and brown locusts that had been swarming around the hospital and declared our attempts at organic farming to be a dud. Bring on the herbicides, pesticides and any other cide that will sustain our feeble garden. The next day the hospital gardener reported that the culprit was a family of goats. The mother, wanting good nutrition for her children, moved in and helped herself to the budding cabbage heads and mealy leaves. The patients in the Jabule sewing group who lounge outside by the garden when then weather is nice stated that they tried to beat off the goats but they would not be deterred from eating the bounty. Usually goats are found in garbage heaps but they made their way into the hospital grounds. After our office duties the last two days, the second job was to try to salvage the remaining veges and strike terror into the hearts of any goat that came around. Truthfully, they are very cute and are quite a site with their unique coat patterns and kids trailing but I am glad I left my weapons with CA DHS.

Many of the patients were discharged over the Christmas holiday, but new patients are trickling in so my job is to encourage them to start a craft, sewing or needlework project and join the other women in conversation. They are reluctant to participate at first and ask what they will have to pay. There is no charge and they are given choices to select the project, style and colors that they prefer. This causes some delay and would be more efficient by assigning activities and materials but life in a TB hospital has very few opportunities for choice or creativity. The patients were thrilled with the beautiful yarns and materials that my son transported to SA from donors in California. The yarns here are very dull (and expensive) so the beautiful colors were a pleasure.

Friday brought success with the South Africa Welfare Department as I escorted a male patient to the bank and he was able to get his disability grant after a 1 ½ year wait and countless visits to the welfare office. We timidly went up to the teller and inquired as to whether the deposit had been made and Bingo, his grant was there for the taking. I had almost given up after an entire day was spent at the welfare office in Nov. and ended up with a quick escort out the door at 4 pm when they closed. The patient was jubilant and thrilled that at last he had a little cash in his pocket. I think of the patients being elderly as they move very slowly and seem aged. In fact most of them are under 40 and cannot fathom my age. (57 years) AIDS and TB have robbed them of their prime years, robustness and joy of living. Not to mention the dangers from the roads and accidents in this country. Everyone is in a hurry and the narrow two lane roads are full of obstacles-pedestrians, stalled cars, cows, goats and mist that obscure the dangers. A domestic employee of the hospital was killed in car accident this week when her car swerved to miss a stalled vehicle and she was thrown out. Life expectancy is very short (around 47 years) here in spite of the trappings of the first world. Many people are fatalistic about death and accidents-this may be a vestige of Apartheid where cause/effect and critical thinking were not encouraged. I am convinced that every human being is special and that there are no throwaway people. There are so many obstacles to prevention and safe practices-safe societies are a luxury to some degree. However, carnage from AIDS, TB, Malaria, wars and car accidents is decimating the parents and breadwinners of Africa. One more preventable death is a lament that underscores all the bodies that leave the hospital in cheap caskets. Life is not depressing in this place, only frustrating!