blundering-around-in-Africa

It is building up to the first rains, meltingly hot and humid, the landscape parched dry, the rivers and lagoons shrinking to shimmering pools in the sandy expanse of the wide riverbed. The hippos, crocs and water birds - ibis, storks, geese and jacanas - become more concentrated. Today I saw a wattled plover guarding its nest in the sand, just half a metre away from a croc, open-jawed to lose heat, a dentist’s nightmare A bark from outside the house, at first I thought it was dogs, but it is the alarm call of the gentle spotted bush buck. I am enjoying the birdlife - over 700 species in the park. It is such a treat to see flocks of crested cranes and the glorious carmine bee-eaters, like miniature crimson kites, hundreds darting and swooping round their nests in the riverbank Sadly Bad Ellie is no more. Katie says his heaven will be a supermarket carpark where he can break windows, and eat shopping to his heart’s content. His coup de grace was to break into a car with a rooftop tent, knocking down the pole supporting the cantilevered part, so the terrified occupants were literally bouncing on his back. Having been greatly entertained by his antics, we were less than thrilled when he left the campsite, visiting our little home and ours became the 10th car window ruptured by tusks - a loud crack just ouside the bedroom window. I was quite relieved that there was no human damage. An old hunter told me he had found “nothing thicker than a chicken burger” after a trampling. So big and powerful, and yet usually amazingly gentle. The trunk with over 100,000 muscles can turn over a car, but also daintily pick up individual curled orange pods of the winter thorn tree. If you are under some illusion that I bravely face wild beasties, this needs correction. Imagine Jane of the Jungle, Joe away, returing to little house, big spot light roaming, gingerly creeps round winter thorn, heart pounding, dashes for door unlocked for quick access and collapses in heap - and that was just the daytime practice. Tempers are fraying here in the heat, the chef resigned and Adie the owner was able to unload his pent up emotions on an idiotic Japanese tourist who, misunderstanding all warnings, stalked an elephant to within 5 meters, retreated briefly when it mock charged and then pursued it again. Fortunately it was Gilbert, the benign old fellow who is often around the camp and wasn’t looking for trouble. Victoria Falls is less spectacular in the dry, but you can walk illegally up to the edge and then have someone hold your feet as you lean over. Kate fortunately, like Binky and Al doing the highest bungie jump in te world, told mum afterwards. The clinic has been busy. The locals call any fever malaria but I think there has been a lot of flu bringing with it chest infections and pneumonia. Sometimes I think I am not told the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. That lies somewhere that I am slowly learning to understand. This week very few drugs and no vaccines. "Yes, the order did go in”. The man from headquarters is coming today and he is bringing the drugs. But the man from headquarters came yesterday and left them behind. Now he has arrived and knows nothing of any drugs. But Paul will save the day and hitch to headquarters. Oh dear he left the eskie behind; I will send it on TB car. TB car went shopping and missed Paul. Enter stage right, man from headquarters drunk as a skunk, "what is the problem?”. Meanwhile lots of patients, nurses working very hard, but No drugs. And I am bewildered and confused wondering exactly where the truth lies. An African version of a drug free clinic. Treating HIV requires 95% compliance, a logistical nightmare. Testing is voluntary and is aften avoided, the social consequences of being the first partner to be diagnosed with HIV being enormous. My matronly advice about no condoms, no sex, goes down like a lead balloon and I remind myself as young docs how we guffawed at a middle age paediatrician who said in our clinical meeting that Sex was overrated. At least I know what African men would think of that. Meanwhile I enjoy the game drives in the park, getting close to roaring lions. I enjoy lying in bed listening to the night sounds, the whoop whoop of spotted hyenas, the crunching as the hippoes eat grass and the gentle footfalls of the elephants outside the window; I enjoy meeting the lodge owners some of whom grew up in the park and have a wealth of tales to tell (one showed us the lion he had in the back of his truck, dead now she was old and toothless and had been stalking tourists in his camp) and the wide variety of people who come through Flatdogs, from a delightful concert pianist, to Europeans in trendy leopard skin safari gear and khakied South African hunters in their camouflage flak jackets describing their latest kills and yearning “to be able to shoot rhino like we used to.” I especially enjoy laughing with the mothers at my attempts at speaking Chinyanja and with the African staff at Flatdogs who are great people with wonderful senses of humour. And while it is different we are looking forward to returning to Eureka - we are so lucky to live in such a beautiful place, so that it will never be hard to come home. Our love to you all.