This past weekend was one we have been looking forward to for weeks! With only 3 weeks left of surgery, our time here in Guinea is quickly coming to a close. We planned a trip to Dalaba, roughly 8 hours by taxi upcountry, and where I spent several days between Christmas and New Years. Because of the protests that are happening here in the city, we were cleared to go by the captain with the stipulation that we needed to get out of town by 0630 or we wouldn’t be able to go at all. The deadline of 0630 was put in place because leaving any later would risk us getting stuck in riots that were planned for the day. We talked several times of coming up with a back up plan, but instead persevered and a fantastic friend agreed to come in to work at 545am to let me leave a tad early from my night shift. I handed over my patients, sprinted out to change and grab my pack which I had put together the night before. We made it to the major market and began bargaining for a taxi to get us out of the capital city to the next small town to find a shared taxi to take us upcountry. We bargained, and were jumping in a taxi to head upcountry. Laura set her bag in the backseat keeping her eyes on it, and before we knew it some guy off the street had jumped in, was going through her bag about to pocket some of her cash. Our taxi driver saw him just seconds before we did, and several men had him out of the car, searched, and the money returned before we even knew how to react. Theses two men, Elijah and Erun, refugees from neighboring Sierra Leone--quickly earned our trust. I mean who doesn’t want to essentially hitchhike with two guys who just protected you? We made it to the next town about 1.5 hours out of the city and found out that there weren’t any taxi’s heading upcountry. After spending about half an hour negotiating prices, lots of arguing, chatting in English, French, and Krio, throwing in mangos and a banana to our deal and making them laugh a few times with our ridiculous proposals we all headed off on our adventure. The ride was fairly uneventful, and we picked up a few randoms along the way. My favorite passenger was the man who was heading upcountry to sell firewood and his 6 live and feisty chickens that were promptly shoved into the trunk next to our backpacks like it was nothing out of the ordinary.
Post night shift riding in a taxi------
We arrived in Dalaba around 5pm. Hot, tired, very very dusty, and ready to settle in and make our plans for the weekend. We bought dinner off the street and settled outside to eat our first of many meals of avocado and cheese on delicious crusty bread.
We met our guide Lamarana the next morning and headed off to market to pick up food before our daylong trek. Here in Africa it is normal to carry things on your head, not on your back. So we really were quite a site hiking through the streets with big ole packs on our backs. Three funny looking fotay’s (white people)
Our walk was gorgeous through the countryside. The topic of many of our conversations were our patients. How amazing they are, how they persevere through so much, how they have so much stacked against them from day one and how they still come through against all odds. The beautiful hills of Guinea are breathtaking, and it’s easy to place each of our patients in their home environment. Working in the fields, preparing the evening meal, carrying babies on their backs, and selling goods in the market.
A family we met along the way in front of their hut
We found a small lost sheep along the way, and took a moment for a snuggle.
These guys are known as "thief" sheep because they will steal things straight out of your home. Notice their "collars" and the sticks that they so happily sport that prevent them from entering through doorways.....crafty little guys!
Apparently one of the things the French brought to the “cold” upcountry Guinea was Pine Trees---I don’t think I will ever get over this. A pine tree forest, in West Africa--how odd, right?
Our dirty, dusty feed after day one of trekking
A few ladies who sold us crafts in their village
Spending the night in the village we sat out of the front porch and had a long chat about the world. As we talked, the idea of how we fit in the world came up. This village, on top of a mini-mountain in Guinea has no electricity. It doesn’t having running water, or a toilet. But it exists just fine, it functions off the earth. God gave them everything they need in the trees,bushes, and animals to survive. They don’t have many of the things we in the west would call “necessities” but it’s their normal, they are happy and it works.......
A major conversation of that evening under the stars included the idea that we were “sitting on the edge of the world”. This village has no idea or need to know what is happening in the US right now. If we told them about the bombings in Boston, or some of the headlines on CNN what would they think? If we told someone in the US about the comings and goings of this particular village in Guinea, would they care? The answer is no, probably not. We both share this earth, but have virtually no interaction. We three girls could be the ONLY American’s to ever come through that village. The only three to ever step on that particular soil, the only ones to ever sleep in that house and use that squatty potty. Letting that soak in is kind of life shattering, huh?
Our home for the night
We planned to sleep in hammocks and sleeping bags, but after carrying them roughly 25 miles up and down mini-mountains we found out that it wasn’t exactly an accepted practice to sleep outdoors, particullarly because we were female. So instead, we swept some mouse poo off the bed and slept on top of our hammocks.
A group of ladies on their way to the market, goods stored on their heads and babies on their backs
On our last kilometer of our trek back to the hotel a motor bike flew by and as we turned around we say someone hop off and start running toward us. It was Alhassane, a patient from the beginning of the outreach. Laura and I knew him, but Lydia became a quick friend to him. He invited us happily to his home, and was so excited that we accepted his offer. He brought us into the compound and through his front door, pulling up chairs and immediately offered us something to drink. It once again put our lives in perspective, Alhassane had literally a desk with his books on it, and a mat on the floor in which he slept, and he was offering us, the rich westerners, something. As we visited he asked about those nurses who were on the ship back in the fall by name. Remembering them, asking how they were settling back into life in their home countries and asking us to greet them. As our time came to a close we gave him all the sunscreen we had, being Albino is West Africa is not easy. It is literally impossible to buy suncreen here. For those with African skin there is no need for protection, leaving the large population of Albino people scorched from the sun.
Along the way we may or may not have had a small run in with bed bugs. I was not completely educated in this fastidious little creatures, but Lydia was an expert. She had self-diagnosed with Laura’s help and upon returning to the ship, the first priority was stripping down, bagging up all of our stuff, showering, and then researching. Now I do not advise looking up bed bugs unless you want the heebie jeebies. It turns out those resilient little guys could essentially survive an atomic bomb and go nearly all of eternity without food. After devising a plan to wash our clothes at roughly 122 degrees F we realized that our packs were going to be a different story. Apparently it is not advised to wash backpacks at such a high temperature, so our alternative---freeze it. We placed our packs, hammocks, and sleeping backs inside jumbo garbage bags and froze them for about 7days in one of the ships walk in freezers. These bug bites are far worse than being attacked by mosquitos I am fairly certain. A patient even commented on my nickle sized welt marks on my hands and arms!
On our way back we piled into a shared taxi with 6 other people (because 7 people in one car is normal, right?) The ride back with “Tante” (our new auntie), Binta, the momma with no identification, the driver, and a chicken strapped to the taxi was one speedy and efficient ride. We bought several kilos of delicious mango’s as snacks for less than one dollar. As we sped along the bends and winds in the road, we were just three girls traveling together across the beautiful Guinean landscape. These are the adventures that we will look back on and think about the fun times when we were in our 20’s and living on a ship and serving the people of West Africa.
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