Greetings!  Last night I experienced the most brilliant thunder storm that I’ve ever seen in my life.  And I’m a guy who totally loves watching lightning crash in a storm, so this was right down my alley!  Even more down my alley was the fact that the thunderstorm was some miles away, so we could watch it, while sitting outside without even being rained on.  It was a really marvelous natural occurrence, with bolts in lightning tearing the sky apart every 5-10 seconds.  And the land here is so flat that you can see for miles and miles and miles. I just sat outside in the bed of a pickup truck watching for about an hour in the company of my twin brother John, the clinical director Caleb, and the pharmacist Pritty (who are the handsome gents featured in the attached photo).  It was a real great time, filled with God’s natural beauty and some fun company.  Toward the end of the storm, the light-hearted police man, Dut, who keeps us safe around here came over and gave us an informal Dinka lesson (which was sort of hard because we speak just about no Dinka and he speaks just about no English).  Despite the language barrier, we learned some new words, we taught him some English ones, and we were able to enjoy each other’s company even if we didn’t speak the same language.

This afternoon, John and I went for a jog around the village, which we try to do 3 or 4 times a week.  As the two of the only white people around, our presence usually generates quite a bit of attention.  We’re used to being greeted (and greeting) probably more than half the people that we come across.  Small children commonly run out of their huts along the roadside and wave to us as we go by.  And I’ll tell you what, this sure is an endearing sight to behold.  We’ll be leaving in a week, but the image of a half-naked 3-year-old waving curiously at us from his house is a sight that won’t soon (if ever) leave my mind.  The simplicity and the poverty and the austerity and the humanity of this whole experience are all somehow captured succinctly in this image.  During our jog today, we chanced upon another really cool experience.  We usually run from the compound here to the Catholic Mission school and back again.  Today, we were on our return leg of the journey just after school had let out, so children were walking along the road in the direction that we were running.  At some point, a few of the children began running alongside of us.  When we came to the next group of children walking along, they tagged along.  Same with the next group.  And as a few of the children became tired and dropped off, we approached and collected another few to compensate.  So for a kilometer or so, we had an escort of little school children running along with us.  And that sure was a great feeling!  There was laughter and smiling and good feelings abounding.

(Stephanie Williams) On the north side of the compound tower two large mango trees, lush and regal. They are bigger than any mango trees I’ve ever seen before, easily standing four stories tall. Their branches are loaded– but not with mangos.

Instead these trees house dozens of bats.

You wouldn’t guess it during the day, but come dusk they start to dip and dive. They dart spastically in a drunken feast on the mosquito and flying termites population. (Thank God!) But sometimes they get a little side-tracked.

The other day, one found its’ way into my room. This didn’t bother me much, as I have a tender spot for flying rats. But my bunkmate, Jessica, had a different view. She is not much for anything crawly or bug shaped. And I have recently assumed the role of ‘Bug-squasher’.

So when Dracula came calling, I had to reassure her somewhat. I refused to chase this ‘slightly larger’ bug away as he was ridding me of pests. So we tried to sit still and wait for him to find the door on his own.

He circled a few times and landed a few times. I think it was a lot harder for Jessica than for me to wait him out. But eventually we ignored him and went on with our reading. I was surprised to look up from my book a few minutes later to find the room ‘bat-less’. They sure are quiet.

I wonder if I’ll have to fight them for a proper mango when mango season starts. I guess I’ll have to wait and see.

(Stephanie Williams) Imagine a miniature deer with fir much like a wild hare. Make sure you keep it small in your head, sort of like an emaciated cat with ridiculously long legs -all awkward and skittish, skipping around daintily,barely touching the ground. Glue grape sized protruding orbits for eyes and a wee bit of fluff for a tail and there you have it… a dik-dik!

I mentioned to Suzy about how it must taste like rabbit and she cringed. I guess she has a soft bone for family pets. I figure it can be eaten if necessary but is unlikely to satisfy a child.

The resident Dik-dik here on the compound is named Bambi. She looks like something that stepped out of a fairy tale and has an infected eye. It oozes gunk and should come out. Any vets want to come out and do a little surgery? You could save Bambi! :- )

Hi all,

Hello from another sunny Saturday in Tonj.  This morning began with class led by our pharmacist pertaining to basics of pharmacy and drugs.  One of the topics was how to complete a prescription to give to the pharmacy.  As one of the resident “doctors” here (I have completely one year of medical school in the States), I have been filling out prescriptions since day 1 here.  I had to laugh when we talked about completing prescriptions only on appropriate prescription pads.  Here, every patient who comes in pays a one-time fee for his own patient book, which is a 20-page children’s notebook, usually with pictures of imitation Pokemon or Power-Rangers on the cover.  And this patient booklet also doubles as the official prescription pad.  And though these Pokemon prescription pads lack a snazzy In Deed and Truth letterhead, every prescription is nonetheless filled with accuracy and precision.  I found it a humorous example of the way we make the most out of the resources we have here without sacrificing the service we provide to patients too much.

The rest of the afternoon was quite leisurely, and the evening was capped off by a trip to the local Don Bosco Catholic mission for a party.  The occasion was to celebrate the years of service and upcoming departure of one priest and the new arrival of another priest.  It was a fun night, as we were served a delicious meal of rice, goat stew, and soda.  Afterwards we saw some entertaining, if not very confusing, skits about the importance of going to school and the importance of raising a good family (at least this is what I think they were about, although I’m far from clear about this).  I think this was one occasion where the Sudanese humor went right over our American heads, as the whole crowd was howling with laughter except for our American corner.  Don’t let this fool you into thinking this wasn’t an evening of great fun, because it was surely that.

Thanks for reading, and see you next week.

(Daniel Crawford)  This week we had about 150 patients every day in the clinic except for Friday.  I was made to take Monday off from work to rest a little more from my recent illness, and Tuesday I returned to work.  Jessica and I saw 15-25 wound patients each day.  We have had a couple more colorful injuries recently.  One woman has a few lacerations on her palm/fingers due to a fight involving a knife.  Jessica and the twins sutured her and she comes in for cleaning daily.  Another man sustained a pretty serious 2nd degree burn to his outside ankle, which I had the honor of “debris-ing” and cleaning (I got to scrub off the charred skin and blisters. very nasty. a bit of blood).  Yesterday afternoon a woman came in very nonchalantly with a deep and wide 6-inch laceration on her foot from a puncture wound at a construction site.  She was very good humored and funny.  I like her a lot.  There’s another man with partial amputation on two fingers who comes in for cleaning.  And then we have lots of children with cuts and open wounds on their legs and feet.

I have found that the Sudanese people are wonderful patients (as far as wound cleaning is concerned).  They don’t speak much of any English, so that they don’t complain.  They don’t really understand or have a culture of medicine, so that can’t easily know when I’m doing something right or wrong.  And they also have an unbelievable tolerance for pain (some exceptions to the younger generation, whose culture is changing much faster than their parents’ generation).  They don’t cry.  They limit their screams or don’t scream it all.  It’s amazing.

However, there was on boy on Wednesday who needed a tetanus shot, who was afraid to the point of rebellion; he wouldn’t let us do it.  He didn’t fight, but he insisted ‘no.’  So instead, I told him, “If I get the shot first, will you do it?”  I asked him 2-3 times.  His eyes were so sad.  But I looked him in the eye, and he finally agreed.  So Jessica gave me a shot with sterile water in the shoulder, and then I gave him his tetanus shot.  Success.  Sebit explained to me the week before that the culture has a large fear of spears and dying by them; some patients greatly fear needles for this reason.  I don’t know what this boy saw or went through to make him so deathly afraid, but I’m glad he was able to overcome it.