Day 76, It is almost a year since I underwent the application and interview process for my year in South Africa. It wasn’t really a competitive interview, it was more aimed at checking that the candidates were aware of what this year would entail. I remember trying to envision what it would be like and putting together my presentation and I obviously convinced them that I knew what I was letting myself in for.
I can’t really remember what I was thinking at the time but I’m pretty sure that I didn’t imagine my life here as it is. I wasn’t naive and I knew the hours would be long, the demands would be hard and that I would be battling to keep patients alive every day. In more ways it is with all the things outside of work which I have surprised myself.
This weekend I had signed up for an anaesthetics course with four of my colleagues in the provincial capital of Pietermaritzburg, a city known as the “the sleepy hollow” for its lack of excesses. As usual on Friday I flew to my clinics, an experience that will struggle to lose its novelty. The others managed to finish early and picked me up as we set out on the journey. As we reached the first town of Hluhlwe one of the two cars started to sputter. With the weekend plans hanging precariously I contacted my pilot friend after his recent hospitality. A few minutes later we had the car given the once over a by a local mechanic and with some minor work we were back on track.
The rest of journey was relatively drama free. Whilst heading south the storm clouds gathered and soon we were driving through pounding rain with lightning blazing across the night sky. I was staying with my colleague at his friend’s place. When we finally arrived after four hours on the road they were cooking a poikie, a casserole cooked in an iron pot on a braai. We tucked into it with a healthy helping of local reds.
The following day we were up at half past six to attend the course. Aimed at rural doctors it covered a range of topics about anaesthetics and particularly in obstetrics. Not only was I up again at hours I never knew existed back home on a Saturday, but I actually paid attention throughout. As a bonus I was able to finagle the pharmaceutical reps into giving us some freebie equipment for the hospital, a genuine boost to my conscience.
After the course we met up with some of the others and headed to dinner at the finest, and possibly, only Thai restaurant in the city. As with any group of medics anywhere in the world food leads to wine which leads to shameful attempts at dancing and obscene amounts of drinking. I can only apologise to the poor patrons of Crowded House, Maritzburg’s premier nightspot.
With heads still heavy, the following morning we decided we wanted to do something before the marathon trek back up to Mseleni. Inspiration hit us that naturally the best thing to do would be zipping along from treetop to treetop at 60km an hour suspended hundreds of feet in the air on the hillside. The exhilaration of speed, the calls of wild birds and views of the expansive valleys in front of us it was the perfect way to cap off the weekend.
I couldn’t help but think that during that presentation a year ago I never would have thought I would be driving back in an electrical storm from a weekend course, staying with strangers, dancing with new friends and swinging from trees with a hangover, delightfully bizarre.
I see the tash-goatee combo is still alive...
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