Real Peace Corps Work Before Capetown March11

Friends, This was written before our big trip to Capetown and describes our work challenges. Could not be sent before due to challenges from IT capabilities. Love to you all.
Blog 11 march


Today, Saturday, we looked forward to going to town and taking a break as our jobs at Mountain High cranked up this week and became more like real work. The woman in charge of the hospital business office went on maternity leave so the Peace Corps volunteers were called upon to help keep the hospital running smoothly. The job has a certain rhythm and pattern, ebb and flow, but demanded all of our attention as hospitals change their patient load on an hourly basis and mini crisis must be dealt with. Statistical inputs and payroll reports also add to the workload

At 7am in the morning the nurses round up the patients who will be traveling for X-Rays, ARVs, pensions, transfers, weekend passes, and discharges while the mobile clinic is loading up supplies for their trip to the tiny villages that have no health care. The drivers are readying their vehicles and taking instructions from the nurses and business office regarding the many errands that need to be done in town. Some days the drivers and vehicles do not match- more drivers are needed or vehicles are not available for the work load. The atmosphere is charged and work laden as everyone’s work for the day becomes clear and duties assigned. After the mobile clinic leaves and the patients travel to their destination, the nurses attend to the remaining patients to assure that their treatment needs are met. Many of the patients are confined to the hospital rather than homestay to assure that they will take the needed drugs for TB or AIDS and will have access to nutritious foods.

At 1030am I go through the wards and announce that Jabule (Happy) Time has come and the willing and able are invited to join the handcraft/sewing/knitting/beading/crochet group. Many of the women are sleeping after their morning drug therapy but get out of bed to join the fun. The Jabule Group was cut short this week because of office duties but materials are distributed to the patients and they wander out to the garden and create their own masterpieces. The photo on the blog from last week depicts the Zulu rag dolls made from black cloth and beads. They have a beguiling look and come in all sizes. Our beading teacher Monki showed the patients how to assemble the dolls and decorate them so that each is unique.

So after a week of real work, we were ready to travel to town and enjoy a restaurant meal, reading and some relaxation. The trip down the mountain turned out to be a bigger ordeal than expected. At 6am we walked to the taxi stand and found that there were 25 people already waiting for the taxi which holds 15 maximum passengers (at least that is what is posted). It started raining and the crowd grew in numbers and impatience. After 20 minutes the taxi showed up without Mr. Zulu. The pensioners in the valley below had received their pensions on Friday and were eager to get to town. I also noticed a patient on a weekend pass from the Jabule group. She had made a skirt and wanted to show her family her handiwork. Brendon and I held back and tried to determine the next strategy.

We walked to the tar road to catch the bus; someone called out that another taxi was coming. The walk felt good so we continued on for 2 km when the second taxi appeared and picked us up. It then went back for the other hopefuls at the taxi stop and picked up 19 passengers. It stalled a couple of times and then started up the rock hill where the engine died and could not be restarted. The driver put his head down on the steering wheel in defeat. Everyone got out of the taxi and started walking to the tar road to catch another taxi or the bus. Just before we reached the tar road the disabled taxi charged up behind us and picked us up for the second time. The windshield wipers were not working and it began to rain in earnest. As an old hand at dealing with this problem I got out my Kleenex and started wiping away the defrost. The passengers were not in a happy mood; they did not want to pay the R22 fare from the hospital since they walked most of the way to the tar road and the taxi driver was adamant about charging R22.

This was not all on this difficult trip to town. About halfway down the mountain a skinny dog jumped out into the road. We felt the thump and the dog’s days were over. Nearer to town we witnessed a tragic car accident so our moods were subdued by the time we finally reached the taxi rank and walked into the peaceful town.