Flush and Wash

This afternoon I have two meetings. The first is with Focus Africa, the consulting group that has been instrumental in cultivating the relationship between the Hospital of Hope and the City of Bargny and introducing Nathalie and me to several significant individuals who are connected to important people, corporations and organizations in Dakar. We’re meeting to discuss the possible role that they—a very smart group of senior consultants--can play after I leave.

Today is September 15, and my flight to Brussels is on October 1. We have 17 days to put it all together. I am mindful that “no one is indispensible,” especially me. The Hospital of Hope is certainly going to go on without me to play the role of the pushy bitch…which I am so good at…because nothing is ever done fast enough for me. Ever! Sometimes I have to remind myself that it’s 4 a.m. in New York when I send emails at 8 a.m. And the recipients are probably going to remain in their beds for two-three hours, and they will respond to my emails when they are up, have had a coffee and have begun to think about their day. But waiting…it’s so hard!!!

I think Focus Africa can play the pushy role much better than I. As a group of consultants, they are accustomed to mapping out the process for getting things done, leaving no steps out of the process, moving through the process systematically, and reaching the end goal on time and within budget. I am hoping I can convince them to sign on for a reduced fee and all the glory of helping make the Hospital of Hope a reality.

I’m also having dinner with my French professor from New York. I wrote about her earlier, and how she has been teaching smart board technology at the French Cultural Institute. We need to catch up…just our brief emails and phone conversation earlier today told me that it’s been a rough adjustment for her. Maybe the first month of anything is the hardest. Maybe. We can agree that West Africa is not for the faint of heart. Today offers a perfect example of why. At 10 a.m., the water taps dried up. Not a drop. No hand washing, no cooking, no flushing. At 2 pm, the electricity cut off and because our generator is not working, we are now without telephone and internet. At 3 pm the water came on, which at least guarantees I’ll be able to take a shower before my meetings.

All this is probably less important than I’m making it, but suddenly flushing and had washing take on previously taken-for-granted importance. There are so many other cultural differences, which become magnified when you’re on your own. My friends, who teach at the American School, seem to have adjusted quickly to Dakar. But they are living in an apartment complex with other expat members of the faculty, they have intentionally chosen to be nomads living in a new country every year, they were previously in Khartoum which is seriously Muslim, and they are a couple, so they have each other as a constant. The solo experience is different. Sometimes, I have just wondered why I came here and what I’ve accomplished and was it worth it.

And then, I consider the people we have met, the support we have generated, the awareness we have raised, the groundwork that’s been laid, the possibility that thousands of people in the area around Bargny will be vaccinated, have their babies safely, learn about and control their diabetes, have a doctor stitch them up when they tumble in the middle of a football game and lacerate their elbows…and that’s when I know the last six months were worth every minute. Even the ones without lights and water.