Gaire lunch break

Today is more of the same, so I'll cut to the chase and talk about my lunch break. The local women have made food for us at the pastor’s house. I am let out of the fence around our church basement clinic by armed policemen. I cross the street, and go up the stairs of an oceanside house made of sturdier material than the other homes in the village. There is a huge porch in back on the beach and another in front facing the church. There is a spread of food out on the table with many women in floral print dresses offering me food. I pass on the more exotic foods and head outback to enjoy my MRE (meal ready to eat, see prior post).

The view is spectacular. It’s no less beautiful than the waterfront I’ve seen in California or Florida. Dozens of kids play on the beach below. They again perform antics when I take pictures of them. Foolishly, I ask one of the women where the bathroom in the house is. After some confusion is resolved, she points outside.







There are makeshift walkways extending into the ocean, about every fourth house. I had seen these before but just assumed they were docks for getting a better view of the ocean or for pulling a boat up next to. (Go ahead and look at the picture up above and you probably thought so too.) But upon closer look, I saw that that at the end of each was not a boathouse but an outhouse. I watch for a minute for the next customer to arrive. A woman goes in, and a minute later something drops out of the outhouse and into the water below. Not even twenty feet away is a group of 3 children running naked playing in the ocean.

I remember a patient from that morning. It was a mother claiming that every time her 3 children go swimming they get an ear infection. Good thing I gave her antibiotics.

I walk back through the house and the women on the front porch have broken out into spontaneous song. The sound is truly magical. They are harmonizing and singing in counterpoint. Invigorated I head down and finish seeing patients for the afternoon.

--pete