Merry Christmas

This month, instead of telling you all how much I miss you, how different the weather is, or how it is impossible to find a turkey in Zambia, I’ll instead share with you some Christmas cheer – things that have/are making us happy, and why this year has been so important and amazing for us.

Discovery. Entering a different culture is exciting. Sharing knowledge and experiences is so rewarding, and eventually, after a LOT of learning, you reach a point where you can finally relax and (almost) fit in with the people around you. Things aren’t as hard as they were, and little things like not hesitating to greet everyone you pass on your way to work, and drawing water every day for your bath are just another great part of your day. Yesternight (a Zambian saying), a co-worker told me how impressed he was with my language, and said, “you even speak like a Zambian now”. That made my day. You also discover things about a different prace and people (like constantly mixing up ‘l’s and ‘r’s), that are hirarious, and you eventually do the same things without lealizing it, only until someone from home catches you.

Patience. Is a common name here. But also, it really IS a virtue, and no one knows it better than Africans. Take it easy, relax, things will be okay. Though I do think this can be a bit detrimental in some situations, Ben and I have learned a lot about this word. I waited months and months to finally be registered with the nursing council. As I write this, we’re waiting for our neighbours to come by so we can go help them buy school uniforms. They’re already an hour late. Nothing comes on time, and you just deal with it. If things don’t fall into place like you have planned, it will still be okay. Maybe even “better than okay” (another Zambian saying).

Laughter. Say something remotely funny, and you’ll get roaring laughter and hand slaps, especially from old women. Show any sort of interest in a group of kids, and you’ll have an entourage of under-10’s wherever you go, ready to turn and run screaming if you give in and play with them.

Community. Walk anywhere at any time of the day, and you’ll see people sitting in the shade on their reed mats, chatting as their hands busily shell groundnuts or maize. Walk past a church group practicing their music, with drums and shakers and dancers – and they gladly welcome you to join or just listen. Visit anyone, anytime, and always receive the warmest welcome. Have 40 neighbour kids know your name as Uncle/Aunty Stephan, every elderly person is grandma/grandpa, and your closest neighbours treat you like a brother and sister. It’s more than community, it’s family.

Hope. Another common name here, along with Mercy, Gift, Joy, Peace, …Fatness (not kidding). There is poverty and malnourished babies, young people die from AIDS, and things really are stacked against people who want to have a better life than this. Despite all the obstacles and adversity, there is a lot of hope. A lot of determination and tenacity as people try to overcome corruption, disease, financial hardship, gender inequalities, and traditional expectations. People have innovative ideas, ambition, and a lot of optimism about the future of their country, despite the struggles of their past/present. It’s so encouraging and wonderful.

We’re both so lucky and happy to be here, words and pictures aren’t enough to tell you what it’s like for us. Thank you for all your support and thoughts and prayers while we’ve been in Zambia, we both really appreciate it and always look forward to even the smallest email or facebook message.

This Christmas, we’re celebrating in Lusaka. A friend has graciously let us stay in their house and look after their dog and cat and pool while they are traveling. So we’ve been “out on the town” here, going to the movie theatre to see Harry Potter, eating ice cream and muzungu food, and enjoying the sun by the pool. On Christmas Eve, Ben and I and a friend had a nice lamb dinner here, then joined two friends and went midnight mass (at 9pm) at a huge Catholic church with 500+ other people. It was so great, we sang carols, there were 2 choirs, and we danced our way out of the church 2.5 hours later. Ben and I came home and watched a bit of The Polar Express and opened one gift. On Christmas day, we were happy to see that Santa had come, then we relaxed by the pool. We had 9 people over for Christmas dinner, and we ate and ate and ate and played games and drank wine. It was nice to celebrate with friends and have a traditional Christmas. Zambians do celebrate Christmas, but there aren’t any big traditions, and to most people, especially in rural areas, it’s not a big celebration at all. Only when you get to Lusaka and enter the big new fancy mall will you see decorations and hear Christmas music. It’s nice if you don’t like the commercial part of Christmas, even though you lose some of that Christmas-y feeling. The tropical surroundings don’t help that either, but I’m not complaining!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

Flying Ants!

It’s the first big rain of the season, and I try (unsuccessfully) to stay dry on my walk home, jumping over puddles like a not-so-graceful kangaroo mouse. I arrive home completely drenched and muddy, but entirely happy. I was the kid who had to be pulled out of her rubber boots in the middle of the biggest puddle on the farm.

Later that evening, I’m called from my house by my neighbor, Katie. “Staphy!! Come and see the ants!” I’m puzzled as to why she sounds so excited – ants are everywhere, always, and there are plenty of fascinating insects to take your attention away from an ordinary ant.

Regardless, I am intrigued, and dash outside to see what the excitement is all about. I’m met with millions of flying ants zipping through the air, and Katie in the middle of them, a huge smile across her face. All you can see is flying ants, all you can hear is flying ants, all you can feel is flying ants! I nervously venture out my door to join her in this amazing flying frenzy, and feel as though these insects could at any moment coordinate an organized attack and lift the both of us right off the ground. I resist the urge to run inside and hide under my net. Katie explains to me that this happens once a year, after the first big rain, and everyone is so happy to see these little creatures. I ask if she eats them. “No, these are just the small ones, but I’m still happy to see them!” “Do they bite?” I ask. She assures me they don’t. We chat a bit more then go back to preparing supper.

A few minutes later, Katie calls again, this time not really making any words because she is running and laughing. I run outside, and she is awkwardly trying to catch some flying thing outside my door. She is successful, and brings her trophy to show me. “This is the one you eat”, she explains breathlessly as she shows me the inch-long flying ant (termite) in her hand. She tells me that she personally doesn’t like them, but makes them for her husband (it’s his favourite). This is followed by a sharp yelp, as the “non-biting” flying ant bites her thumb. She throws it on the ground, and we both burst out laughing.

Attitudes

I often start my morning at 0730 on St. Monica, the female medical ward, helping out the nurses and tagging along on the ward rounds with the doctors to ask questions, learn, and offer any input I may have on patients. Mornings are usually quite busy until 11, which can be a great way to start a day if you are efficient and have a good team working with you. Sometimes, it can be a bit overwhelming, if you’re short-staffed, or have staff that would rather sit at the desk and watch things not happen.

Often in the mornings I come across things that have been missed from the previous shifts, so I try to organize a bit and bring everyone up to speed. It may be a diabetic patient who has not had any glucose checks since admission, and is now nearly unconscious after her morning insulin, it may be a young woman in renal failure who is hugely edematous and currently receiving her third liter of fluid, it may be a gasping pneumonia patient lying flat on her back with no oxygen in sight; any of these situations (and more) are possible when you report for the early shift. So you quickly prioritize and send for the oxygen concentrator, draw up some IV dextrose, and stop the fluids, then survey the ward again to see if there’s anything else you missed. After/during this, I pull the first year students aside, drag them with me, and quiz them on nursing care, and help them out with some lacking information. ‘What do you think is our top priority here?’ ‘Tell me about diabetic management’ ‘Why is fluid balance important in renal failure?’ Really, some days I just want to yell at them and the night nurse for missing such obvious, basic things, and failing to call for help when a patient is deathly sick…
Which brings me to a question. What motivates us? I’m asking this because I’d really like to know the answer. I’m not sure how many people read this, but please offer any insights you have on this.

Why do we do things the way we do? What makes us want to do things well; what drives our pursuit of excellence? Why do some of us always strive for more, while some of us are more than happy to settle with ‘enough’ or average’?
Are our motivations based solely on incentives, or is there some greater, more noble reason? Or perhaps some balance of the two?

Here are some observations I’ve made, and I have to stress that these are personal opinions, and you are more than free to disagree with me, as I realize that I still have a lot to learn.


a) 49 first-year nursing students. On the whole, this group shows a lot of ambition and enthusiasm for the nursing profession. They are eager to learn, always looking for opportunities to apply theory in practice, asking questions constantly, and studying in their spare time. They are super inquisitive and absorb as much as they can in this short time they have of being students. When the students are in the hospital, the wards are spotless, the patients are bathed, and treatments and orders are done (usually) on time. They are starting to think outside their procedure manual, asking me thoughtful ‘why’ questions, showing that they are beginning to think critically.

b) Staff Nurses. Although there are wonderful shining exceptions to this, on the whole staff nurses couldn’t be any more opposite. They trudge through their shift, taking 2 hour breaks, falling asleep with head in hands at the nursing station, getting up to give medications or take a couple blood tests. I hear a lot of complaints about nursing care (from other hospital staff), lack of clinical judgment and reasoning. It seems as though once you have completed school, once you are a qualified nurse and have your white uniform, you don’t have to learn anymore (after all, you already know everything), you don’t really have to try anymore. You’ve landed a government job, and even if you occasionally miss something (even if that something is BIG), you won’t suffer any major consequences, and you definitely won’t get fired.


I asked a student about this, after she finished telling me how she wakes up at 3 or 4am to study every day, then works a full shift and comes back later to do extra procedures. “Maybe nursing isn’t their calling,” she told me, “maybe they just don’t have a passion for it.”

Okay, that makes a bit of sense to me, though I still struggle with the fact that human lives are in play here. But maybe that’s because I care about my job, I have a passion for it. Maybe if I was stuck in an office typing Excel spreadsheets all day, I’d do the absolute minimum I had to, because I really don’t care about Excel spreadsheets, even if the success of your business depended on it.

As Mrs. Seya, our nursing administrator, keeps telling me while we hammer out an Action Plan for nursing workshops and try to overcome the incentive obstacle, “Attitudes are hard to change.” Hard to change, hard to understand.