Not written much lately, as things have
settled down into a reasonable routine.
My cold has almost gone, my sunburn and
cold sores are healing, and I am feeling better.
I’d prefer a hospital with regular running
water, so the surgeons could scrub between cases. It would be nice if I
believed the epidural syringes were sterile, and that re-using endotracheal
tubes and spinal needles was OK. It would be good if the anesthesia machines
included CO2 monitoring, and if the ICU had access to blood gas measurements.
But I am more or less used to the way things are here in Addis and don’t let it
bother me too much. Even walking up and down seven floors from the OB suite to the ferenji-acceptable
toilets in the basement is pretty good exercise.
I am going to take some photos tomorrow. I
want a picture of one of the OB residents checking the foetal heart rate. They don’t
have any electronic monitors, so they listen with a small wooden cone which they
push against the mother’s belly, while using the stopwatch function of an
iPhone to time the heart rate! It’s a very strange contast!
Having been pickpocketed is in a way,
rather liberating. I’ve already lost the one portable and valuable thing that
will be a hassle to replace. Today, walking around an area notorious for
pickpockets with five other anesthesiologists, I had about $20 in cash on me.
Other things in my pocket were a cheap plastic comb, and the ferenji
essentials, hand sanitizer and toilet paper. Do your worst, thiefs!
I saw a boy selling small packets of
tissues harassing the Norwegian anesthesiologist, pushing his box of wares
against her jacket, in a way that did not make sense unless – yes, he is using the
box as cover while his other hand is reaching into her jacket pocket! As he was
about ten and we outnumbered him six to one, I felt brave enough to grab him
and pull him away. He knew the game was up and showed me his empty hand, so I
let him go.
I met an honest taxi driver today. I needed
a ride from outside the Ethiopia Hotel to our apartment, near the South African
Embassy. He wanted 100 birr, I offered 80 and he accepted. I had paid 80 for
the same trip the previous day, in a 40 year old taxi, the most decrepit
vehicle I had seen so far, so I maybe should have tried for 70. When we got to
the apartment I offered a 100 birr note, and the driver claimed to have no
change. Yes, I know that is the first thing they teach in Taxi Driving 101, and
no way was I going to let him get away with it. I tried offering $120 and
taking 50 in change from him, but he was not prepared to let me stiff him for
10 birr. I took my 100 back and he withdrew his 50. I told him I would buy
water from the shack across the road which serves as a convenience store. I
bought 6 litres of water for just under 40 birr, so I had a little over 60 birr
in change, which I offered the driver, then started looking for my other 20. The
driver pointed out I had already given him 20 birr and we were now all square.
I wandered along South Africa Road to get
some bread and juice at a supermarket. It turned out to be part of a huge
complex, with a shopping mall, a swimming pool, a pool hall, a bowling alley
and a trendy looking café attached. There was also a gym, full of Ethiopian men
working out on treadmills and with weights. I found that rather odd, but I couldn’t
work out why.
Only two more days of clinical work. Tomorrow
morning I have to go to the University of Addis Ababa to collect my stipend which
might keep me busy for half the day. They are supposed to pay me $1000 US in
birr, so that will be 17400 birr. The largest note is 100 birr, so I will be
getting a wad of 174 notes. It is a bit crazy, but all the banks have rather
cool banknote counting machines to save time and ensure accuracy.
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