Kidney failure and language school.
We are currently staying in the house of one of our teammates while we continue our own house hunting. One of the benefits of staying at the Guild’s house is the presence of Alex, their gardener. Not only does he do a great job with the house (he is the green mamba killer from June 3rd), but he also helps us practice language, and finds time to play with Josiah.
Several days ago, Alex told us of a friend with serious health problems. He had been unable to urinate for 10 days, and was in great pain, so he was on his way to the hospital for treatment.
Alex has not mentioned his friend lately, which I assumed meant that the hospital resolved the issue. I decided to ask him today (Alex doesn’t speak English, so I used a couple words that I knew, plus some body language) about his “rafiki”, expecting the news to be good. Unfortunately, the tone and length of his answer demonstrated a different reality; I found our teammate Jason and asked him to translate for me. This is what I learned.
The hospital provided no help for Alex’s friend, just the bad news that his kidneys had failed. There are no dialysis machines here, so he was free to go and die at any place of his choosing. So he chose to go and consult the “mfumu” (doctor of traditional medicine, or witchdoctor, depending on your perspective). He prescribed some herbal remedy to ease his suffering before his death.
I hope you are not reading this blog immediately after reading yesterday’s dryer diatribe. Tanzania has much greater issues than appliance selection.
I have searched in vain for an answer to this issue. I have dear friends in the States currently sustained by dialysis. Alex’s friend will die never knowing that there is such a thing as dialysis.
Perhaps, one day, all of our friendships will transcend current barriers. At least that is our hope.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
On a lighter note, we have been unable to find a language program in Northern Tanzania that will start within the month. So we have decided to begin individual lessons with a language institute here in town. Dr. Salala, a German immigrant to Tanzania, is known around town as not tolerating language slackers. She will get four hours a week to blitzkrieg Kiswahili into us.
We are currently staying in the house of one of our teammates while we continue our own house hunting. One of the benefits of staying at the Guild’s house is the presence of Alex, their gardener. Not only does he do a great job with the house (he is the green mamba killer from June 3rd), but he also helps us practice language, and finds time to play with Josiah.
Several days ago, Alex told us of a friend with serious health problems. He had been unable to urinate for 10 days, and was in great pain, so he was on his way to the hospital for treatment.
Alex has not mentioned his friend lately, which I assumed meant that the hospital resolved the issue. I decided to ask him today (Alex doesn’t speak English, so I used a couple words that I knew, plus some body language) about his “rafiki”, expecting the news to be good. Unfortunately, the tone and length of his answer demonstrated a different reality; I found our teammate Jason and asked him to translate for me. This is what I learned.
The hospital provided no help for Alex’s friend, just the bad news that his kidneys had failed. There are no dialysis machines here, so he was free to go and die at any place of his choosing. So he chose to go and consult the “mfumu” (doctor of traditional medicine, or witchdoctor, depending on your perspective). He prescribed some herbal remedy to ease his suffering before his death.
I hope you are not reading this blog immediately after reading yesterday’s dryer diatribe. Tanzania has much greater issues than appliance selection.
I have searched in vain for an answer to this issue. I have dear friends in the States currently sustained by dialysis. Alex’s friend will die never knowing that there is such a thing as dialysis.
Perhaps, one day, all of our friendships will transcend current barriers. At least that is our hope.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
On a lighter note, we have been unable to find a language program in Northern Tanzania that will start within the month. So we have decided to begin individual lessons with a language institute here in town. Dr. Salala, a German immigrant to Tanzania, is known around town as not tolerating language slackers. She will get four hours a week to blitzkrieg Kiswahili into us.
posted by Kevin at 9:32 AM
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