Medecins Sans Frontieres
Day 59
Sept. 14
Diffa, Niger
No volunteers are stationed in Diffa, as it is too far East and the roads are terrible. I was told about the conditions of the roads, and got myself ready for a rough ride, but it was better than any road in The Gambia. To date, which will change in a bit, only one other road compared to the South Bank road in The Gambia and that was the Nioro to Diema road in Mali, which took eight hours to travel 60 miles. All the rest, while very poor in American standards, were a comfortable ride in Gambian standards.
Despite not having any volunteers in Diffa, I did have two contacts. A former volunteer, who never went home after service and moved to Diffa now runs a camel-riding company. I was told to ask for “Camel Steve”. The other, a former Peace Corps driver, the local chief of police would know and could direct me.
After an hour or so of asking around I found the Police Station and Chief of Police. I showed him the piece of paper I had with the driver’s name on it, and tried to pronounce. No clue. I tried Peace Corps, Corps de la Paix, American, [I wasn’t about to ask for “Camel Steve” and try to explain that ‘Camel’ was not his first name]. Finally, he announces:
“Ah. American. Medecins Sans Frontieres!”
[What was ‘Medecins Sans Frontieres’??] “Yes! American! Medecines Sans Frontieres.”
[I knew ‘medecines’ was doctor and took a shot at the dark that ‘frontieres’ was border, or upcountry of somesort. Ah! Doctor’s Without Borders!]
The policeman pointed to a local man who showed me the way to the MSF compound. There was a doctor, from Holland (the country), and a nurse (who went to UM) working when I went in. Her first question: “What are YOU doing here?” I was the first traveler they had seen since being in country. I found it intriguing that I first passed through a famine area and now am a tourist in a area where there’s Doctors Without Borders. They were impressed that I made it this far, considering the weight of my bag doesn’t exceed 25 pounds and is just a school backpack and I don't know the language.
It was going to be a busy day for them, as they had to go through all fifty-some contracts with the locals individually in order for them to get paid and know what their benefits and procedures were. Before today they were going on a day-by-day basis. Understandbly he recommended a hotel I could stay at for the night, but was welcome in the evening to hang out. He even got one of the drivers to drive me to the hotel!
After showering, doing laundry (goats were about, so I had to find a higher place for the clothes to dry or else they’d get eaten), and taking a nap I went back to the police station to get my passport exit stamped, as the guidebook said I should. They didn’t understand what I wanted and just stamped it as a visitor. Oh well, I crossed into Mali without an entrance stamp.
I spent a few hours at the Doctor’s compound; there were nine there in all, but I only saw five of them. Two doctors and three nurses. One book they had in their collection which I found fascinating was “Engineering in Emergencies : A Practical Guide for Relief Workers” It shows how to set up a camp to handle 10,000 refugees including water treatment, medical, housing, all from scratch. Also included in the book were Engine mechanics, simple physics (for pulleys, water treatment, and basics on a need-to-know basis [i.e., water treatment had fluid dynamics]. It was an interesting book.
They usually see malnutrition in their cases but a few others not-related. One doctor told of a story that two brothers were playing in the mud when an alligator (or crocodile?) attacked. They screamed and their father ran to help them. The crocodile had grabbed the buttocks of one of the younger kids and it took the father to stab the crocodile with a spear to have him let go. The doctor explained that a whole cheek was missing when he arrived, but eight weeks have gone by and slowly the wound is healing. “Cutest kid I have ever met!” was the doctor’s impression of the wounded boy.
A nurse had another story. A poisonous snake had bit a girl on the leg. While she didn’t die her leg started to deteriorate. When they finally brought her into the hospital only the bone and strands of infected muscle were what was left of her leg. They’d have to amputate. The father declined. The reason: He didn’t want his daughter to be handicapped; no man would want her. The nurse was reposted before she could see what recovery the girl could have gotten.
We talked about Niger, the famine, and news from back-home. They had not heard of Katrina in New Orleans in a while, and didn't know the Chief Justice had died.
Being just 6 kilometers from the Nigerian border, and being a market day the next day in Maiduguri, Nigeria they suggested I go to Chad by that route. I exchanged 20,000 CFA (~$40) from them for Nigerian currency. I'd figured I'd been told three times to go through Nigeria to get to Chad, this being the third, that it must be a good option to take.
I left when they were going to have a full staff meeting, and went back to the hotel; which happened to be the only one in town.
Sept. 14
Diffa, Niger
No volunteers are stationed in Diffa, as it is too far East and the roads are terrible. I was told about the conditions of the roads, and got myself ready for a rough ride, but it was better than any road in The Gambia. To date, which will change in a bit, only one other road compared to the South Bank road in The Gambia and that was the Nioro to Diema road in Mali, which took eight hours to travel 60 miles. All the rest, while very poor in American standards, were a comfortable ride in Gambian standards.
Despite not having any volunteers in Diffa, I did have two contacts. A former volunteer, who never went home after service and moved to Diffa now runs a camel-riding company. I was told to ask for “Camel Steve”. The other, a former Peace Corps driver, the local chief of police would know and could direct me.
After an hour or so of asking around I found the Police Station and Chief of Police. I showed him the piece of paper I had with the driver’s name on it, and tried to pronounce. No clue. I tried Peace Corps, Corps de la Paix, American, [I wasn’t about to ask for “Camel Steve” and try to explain that ‘Camel’ was not his first name]. Finally, he announces:
“Ah. American. Medecins Sans Frontieres!”
[What was ‘Medecins Sans Frontieres’??] “Yes! American! Medecines Sans Frontieres.”
[I knew ‘medecines’ was doctor and took a shot at the dark that ‘frontieres’ was border, or upcountry of somesort. Ah! Doctor’s Without Borders!]
The policeman pointed to a local man who showed me the way to the MSF compound. There was a doctor, from Holland (the country), and a nurse (who went to UM) working when I went in. Her first question: “What are YOU doing here?” I was the first traveler they had seen since being in country. I found it intriguing that I first passed through a famine area and now am a tourist in a area where there’s Doctors Without Borders. They were impressed that I made it this far, considering the weight of my bag doesn’t exceed 25 pounds and is just a school backpack and I don't know the language.
It was going to be a busy day for them, as they had to go through all fifty-some contracts with the locals individually in order for them to get paid and know what their benefits and procedures were. Before today they were going on a day-by-day basis. Understandbly he recommended a hotel I could stay at for the night, but was welcome in the evening to hang out. He even got one of the drivers to drive me to the hotel!
After showering, doing laundry (goats were about, so I had to find a higher place for the clothes to dry or else they’d get eaten), and taking a nap I went back to the police station to get my passport exit stamped, as the guidebook said I should. They didn’t understand what I wanted and just stamped it as a visitor. Oh well, I crossed into Mali without an entrance stamp.
I spent a few hours at the Doctor’s compound; there were nine there in all, but I only saw five of them. Two doctors and three nurses. One book they had in their collection which I found fascinating was “Engineering in Emergencies : A Practical Guide for Relief Workers” It shows how to set up a camp to handle 10,000 refugees including water treatment, medical, housing, all from scratch. Also included in the book were Engine mechanics, simple physics (for pulleys, water treatment, and basics on a need-to-know basis [i.e., water treatment had fluid dynamics]. It was an interesting book.
They usually see malnutrition in their cases but a few others not-related. One doctor told of a story that two brothers were playing in the mud when an alligator (or crocodile?) attacked. They screamed and their father ran to help them. The crocodile had grabbed the buttocks of one of the younger kids and it took the father to stab the crocodile with a spear to have him let go. The doctor explained that a whole cheek was missing when he arrived, but eight weeks have gone by and slowly the wound is healing. “Cutest kid I have ever met!” was the doctor’s impression of the wounded boy.
A nurse had another story. A poisonous snake had bit a girl on the leg. While she didn’t die her leg started to deteriorate. When they finally brought her into the hospital only the bone and strands of infected muscle were what was left of her leg. They’d have to amputate. The father declined. The reason: He didn’t want his daughter to be handicapped; no man would want her. The nurse was reposted before she could see what recovery the girl could have gotten.
We talked about Niger, the famine, and news from back-home. They had not heard of Katrina in New Orleans in a while, and didn't know the Chief Justice had died.
Being just 6 kilometers from the Nigerian border, and being a market day the next day in Maiduguri, Nigeria they suggested I go to Chad by that route. I exchanged 20,000 CFA (~$40) from them for Nigerian currency. I'd figured I'd been told three times to go through Nigeria to get to Chad, this being the third, that it must be a good option to take.
I left when they were going to have a full staff meeting, and went back to the hotel; which happened to be the only one in town.
posted by Mike | 3:38 PM
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