Baracas, Bacon and Borborygm

There is a whole lot of nature out here. It's hard for a day to pass without a number of different species vying for your attention/wonder/irritation. As I've already mentioned the night is a shrill chorus of bug-orchestra, it has now of late been intermingled with the odd sounds of scuffling that sound like a rodent lodger skimping on paying his way. As you walk through long grass crickets spring from your legs like you're wading in a green ocean; ants join you in most rooms making diligent trails of workers; fire-ants carve roads through the terrain, boring holes through raised ground or using each others bodies as bridges (and punishing anyone who absentmindedly steps on their road by promptly clambering up their leg to the thigh and making their presence known with formidable jaws); the wards are diligently visited by concerned cockroaches checking up on ill humans; and the odd rat puts in some voluntary time in the sluice room (where equipment is cleaned); chickens and goats roam freely (a little close to exposed laundry one might say) and geckos and colourful lizards defy gravity on almost every surface.
 Chris, one of the more senior (in rank, not advancing years before you picture a liver-spotted grandad figure) doctors managed a three day stint of nature spotting with a black mamba joining him in his kitchen, a tarantula having a tet-a-tet with his kittens and an assortment of feathers and animal parts being left as gifts by said kittens in his living room. Generous. Sadly there have been no mamba callers in Clay House (the name of my current accommodation block)
 This is the everyday on site fauna however, last Wednesday we took a trip in search of the slightly more exotic. Elizabeth national park, so named after the queen payed a royal visit to roll her wrist in the regal equivalent of a wave and gaze with mild fascination at the animals, is one of the biggest nature reserves in Uganda and not to far away. We -that is Chris, Ben, James, Keelan, Rob and I- piled into the back of Dave the stalwart land rover that creaks and complains, but has of yet not failed. Yet. We took a morning game drive after paying our dues for park entry. The early morning fair was mostly numerous herbivores, dead-eyed buffalo and jumpy Cog were the first species to grace our path. Plenty of meat...this was good, if we were going to see the main attraction. The morning trail held no predators however and so we went on to do the substitute for hunting that the modern man performs which involves the skillful removing of a sausage and bacon from a serving tray onto an awaiting plate, which is deftly counterbalance by the breakfast seeker to receive the new weight. Live animals were not the only reason we were there. Mweya lodge is a secluded mzungu resort in the middle of the park where you can 'do Africa' with out all the inconvenience of Africa itself. The mzungu breakfast however is fantastic. What is called for want of a better name 'toast' has been our staple and Ugandan tea with powdered milk has accompanied it. Here in the 'I-could-live-in-Uganda-for-a-month-with-that' pounds per night price lodge they serve up a splendid English and Continental breakfast. We dined like kings. Granted the hash-browns were a miss-step and there wasn't a black pudding in sight. But real milk, fresh fruit, fibre-filled cereal and familiar meats.....they were most welcome.
 After some misunderstandings over bookings of a river tour we managed to get ourselves a place on one that afternoon. Although mysteriously we discovered that the name that it had been booked under -Pocock- had somehow trans mutated in its passage down the phone line in a game commonly called 'Ugandan whispers' to become the rather dashing sounding 'Mr Lovely'. What may have come about something like this.

Ugandan clerk 1: 'Good news we have space for 3 o'clock, group of five?'
James: Lovely. We get breakfast now.
Clerk picks up phone
Ugandan at booking office {after 1/2 hour greeting courtesies}.: 'what is name for party?'
Ugandan Clerk 1: Ah party of 5, he says Mr er Lovely.

So Mr lovely (soon to be Dr Lovely, watch out ladies) and his group jumped on the boat at 3 with the company 3 rough groups of foreigners. The first consisting of young honeymooners who had forgotten a camera because the only lenses they needed to stare at were those in each others eyes (or something sickening like that....and in Spanish from the sounds of it), the second group were the leather skinned Europeans who could do with getting sponsored by a sun-protection company as the 'warning' photo so at least they'd make some money out of the experience the final group were the paler and much better equipped bird fanciers. Uganda is seems has a reputation (just asked Paul Shep if you want to know more about it and brace yourself with a fixed object so you don't get swept away in a wave of enthusiasm) for being one of the best spots to find the wing'ed blighters. There were alot of overblown lenses on display and a few high-tec high-def high-price cameras. But one man put them all to shame (from a certain point of view). He was a head and shoulders above the rest, metaphorically, in reality his head ended in a wisp of thinning hair at the height where most men's nipples lay. His lens was gargantuan however and the stoop in his back was likely to be the sign of years of camera weight gently curling him into a ball. His bazooka-like, Duchess-bothering proportions lens was -it must be logically deduced- to add to his collection of images of animal nostrils close up. Flocks of birds swirled, buffaloes bathed in mud and hippos peered from below the surface along the bank. We spied a monitor lizard and at least two crocs out in the afternoon sun and further on Elephants frolicked by the shore.
 We took an evening trail to try and find the crowning glory of the safari park. Finally, when hope was packing up her bags and saying her goodbyes, we heard a rumour from another car about a lion. We raced back, and there she lay....granted it was a football-pitch-length away and looked like a rock with ears. But rocks don't move, this one did (don't you dare say it was an expectation induced illusion). So we returned satisfied.

 The return to Paediatrics wasn't a terribly easy one. Although I have learnt the mysterious cause of all the B.A. Baracus mo-hawks being sported by the kids. I thought that it was some strange trend in infant-fashion that had spread through the region. In fact the explanation is far more practical (and will get on a plane), all infants receiving oxygen have their temples shaved in order to stick down the tubes on either side. So O2 not the A-team.
 In more serious news I was involved in my second cardio-resp arrest. This time a 9 year old. It doesn't get any easier.
 I was however getting the hang of admitting, treating and punting (metaphorically) kids out the door. This was until the day of the sickness....but we'll get back to that.

 Friday morning we -the MEers, the 3 Norwegian nurses, 2 Norwegian friends visiting them and Uli the German orthopod- trekked to the MTN tower again, this time before the sun had slipped above the hills. We arrived as the sky reddened and the clouds looked to be glowing like fresh embers. With a hot choc and a smattering of glucose biscuits. Munching and slurping as light crept across the valley and the sun rapidly lunged skywards. Another one of Africa's beautiful sites. Friday night was film night again This time 'King Solomon' an epic charting his life. It was my first experience of dubbing in Lugandan (another language that not everyone speaks). Dubbing doesn't quite do it justice. It's like watching a film with a friend, you know that irritating one who insists on quoting the film as you go along despite your never having seen it before, and in case you blink for too long and miss any details he insist on describing the film to you too. It's like that but the guy is partially deaf- so shouts- and on top of all this cannot speak a word of English. Put that all together and you get the style of film.
 A classic scene would be:
  REALLY LOUD LUGANDAN BLAH BLAH BLAH- serene pause witha hint of music- BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH SOLOOOMONNE BLAH-DE-BLAH- one word of English and a sigh- MORE SHOUTING...... you get the gist.
 The highlight was a tremendous flash storm that rattled the chapel and sprinkled us with rain watter through the slats in the windows. Lighting flashed and thunder rumbled...and you couldn't here the voice over. Amazing.
 Saturday was a half day working and a relaxing afternoon. In the evening we said farewell to the Norwegians and their unusual painfully salty liquorish disks. They departed the following day. The first group that will disappear in my time here. Ben and James have only a week or so to go.
 Sunday was the day of the sickness. I'm not blaming the Norwegians -some have- and I can't bring myself to blame Mweya -it would be blasphemy to talk against bacon in such a way- and the pattern of people getting ill in my wake made it hard to see any common factor...other than we were all in Africa. For those of a more gentle disposition I won't describe my symptoms exactly (no bleeding from the eyes for those fearing Ebola, or body fluids similar to rice water for the cholera-phobes...fear not) but in summary I was out of action until today. First through acute illness, and secondarily through the inability of my gut to deal without fibre in the presence of Ugandan foods. Sufficed to say my daily routine wasn't even a weekly one anymore...decode that if you will. So If turned to chemical solutions. Ask me in person if you want the full details, you weirdos.

 I'm much improved however and over half way through. By the next blog I will have been out here for a month and will know where my job is next year. So: big week.
 God bless.

For those that pray:

-For a return to regular health (I have Weetabix and coffee in my armoury...it should submit to my superior firepower)
-For the others in the hospital who have fallen ill.
-For the paediatric staff who have just lost a patient that they have known and helped for many months. See will be missed.
-For the transition and the welcoming of the new elective students (they are German, so this could be interesting....especially if they are Bayern fans)

SDG