April 19, 2002

After seeing an orthopedist on Wednesday, we discovered I had a fractured bone in my left foot. The specialist did not have fiberglass casting materials, or even the appropriate plaster, so an appointment was set for the following day (Thursday). At the hospital yesterday, a Peace Corps nurse accompanied me with a driver to have the cast put on. In the waiting room, this official looking guy in scrubs asked for my papers and x-ray. I asked the nurse how you say surgeon in Kriolu because I knew what it was in Spanish.

The guy came back 10 minutes later and pulled me into this office. I asked if I needed to bring my crutches and bag, and he nodded yes while the PC nurse waited in the waiting room. In the office, he pulled out a prescription medication form on which he had written a short love note in Spanish. ‘You’re Spanish, right?,’ he asked. Shortly thereafter the complements started about my beautiful eyes and how he could show me around the capital city. I promptly decided to cut our visit short and was relieved to be able to explain the funny story to the PC nurse in English and have hearty laugh together. She said he was probably just a patient wandering the hallway, and then later we would discover he was the assistant to the doctor who puts on the casts.

In the casting room, I was in awe at the complete mess, fragments of casting material on all surfaces, bleak walls, a large man wearing surgical gloves that had already graced the injured limbs of many people before me. A Cuban doctor wandered in who had just had a smoke, and we spoke in Spanish for a few moments as he watched the main doctor wrap the plaster material over my leg and smooth it.

Outside the hospital, a young Cape Verdean male approached me with a familiar face, surely someone from my river valley. He mentioned how successful the girls’ theatre performance was on Sunday, and asked if I only worked with kids. I explained that I worked primarily with agricultural associations, but I also focused on women’s and children’s issues. He exclaimed, ‘I’m a youth, why don’t you work with me!?’ I couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to conquer me. There was definitely way too much testosterone going around the hospital to be good for my ailing foot

Back at the Transit House, I hobbled around on my crutches in the small rooms and horribly designed bathrooms where the shower basin or sink is within eight inches of the front of the toilet. I learned that I was incapable of doing most anything without the help of someone else. It quickly became clear that my lessons to be learned, or ‘gifts’ as our enlightened PC doctor says, were patience, delegating tasks to others, less self-reliance, and more gratitude. I now appreciate the smaller, finer things in life, like being able to carry and orange from the refrigerator out to the living room and eat it. I currently have to remove it from the refrigerator, peel it at the sink, wash my hands at the sink, and then hop over to the trashcan to leave the peels. I have learned to minimize energy use because my arms are incredibly sore, as well as my right leg. There are no more warm water baths with water heated on the stove then mixed with water in a bucket in the tub. Who will carry my water to the bathroom if I am the only one at the Transit House that night? I have learned to take slow, cold bucket baths, a 1 ½ hour process followed by bed.

Peace Corps is paying me per diem, which is around $20.00US a day to cover meals and transport, in addition to my regular $8.00 a day salary. They have also offered to cover a taxi to and from the office each day. My cast will be on for 2-3 weeks, and I am expected to live in Praia at the PC Transit House. I voiced my concern over my inability to cook, shop for food, or wash my clothes by hand. The wonderful PC doctor immediately offered to cover the cost of someone to do these things.

I naturally thought that it would be great to pay Claudia’s family (i.e., 60 year old father named João who flirts with me) to eat lunch and dinner with them. When I asked her today, she was very offended, saying I could eat there for free anytime. I will work out the details with them, but that seems most logical because Antonieta, the wife, cooks very balanced, healthy meals in large quantities (i.e. enough for me to take lunch home for dinnertime). The PC doctor also mentioned that I will need to swim three times a week once the cast is off, and I said I didn’t have a pool near my site. She said they would arrange it so that I could use the Embassy pool in Praia three times a week. Not sure how that will work, but it sure sounds good.

Lastly, a volunteer from a gorgeous island (Boa Vista) and I were talking yesterday. We are going to attempt to both host girls empowerment camps this summer. We can submit a joint proposal to get funding to fly and stay with each other while assisting each other with the camps. It sounds like a wonderful opportunity to work with youth on another island (white sand beaches and clear water), as well as this inspirational volunteer who shared my room at Staging in Philadelphia.

Hoping you are all in better health than I am. Think of me when you walk to your cars, take warm showers standing up, or eat that orange from your refrigerator in the living room!