Solar cooking and plastic surgery

Last week I had the opportunity to see some new and exciting things, which really epitomise why we wanted to come out here.

It's pouring with rain as I write so I'm typing quickly to try and get done before the power goes off as it no doubt will.

Solar cooking

On Wednesday evening the couple from MSG (a Dutch charity that supports the hospital) asked if I would like to accompany them on a solar cooking demonstration the next morning. It would mean being ready for 8am so I'd miss my usual lie-in :) I agreed.

We drove 6km up the Great East Road towards Lusaka and stopped at a centre for children in distress. It has a wide remit - predominantly involving teaching the local villagers how to help themselves be more prosperous.

The teachers for the day were a lady called Beatrice (the hospital social worker) and a lady called Scholastica (who works at Tiko's), who have been trained to use a very simple solar cooker designed by a Dutch NGO. There was a large crowd watching - both men and women, interestingly.

First of all they explained the principles and then set about making a demonstration chicken stew. Beatrice cut up the dead chicken - I noted that she didn't strip the meat from the bones of the wings and leg but rather cut through it and put the whole lot - skin, bones, flesh into the pot. To which she added some tomato, some onion, water and Portugese chicken spice from Shoprite.

The pot was set in the cooker before 10am. Then all we had to do was wait. [and wait and wait - I entertained myself by wandering off with the camera to photograph the nearby homes]

Of course then the clouds came over, which meant that the food wasn't ready until 12ish, but still, it was a very low effort way of making lunch. Some minor cheating happened when the rice was cooked on a wood stove but overall the ladies seemed impressed. Them men didn't want to pay the 70pin (c.£10) for the contraption and thought they should get them free....

It's a great idea but perhaps more relevant in 6 months and not at the beginning of the rainy season!

Plastic surgery

On Friday the visiting Serbian plastic surgeon was operating. He'd very kindly said I could watch a case involving a child that had burnt the palm of its hand. When the wound was healing the child was more comfortable having a closed fist and the skin of the fingers merged with the skin of the palm, meaning that they were now permanently locked down. Goran was going to release them and put a piece of skin from the boy's tummy onto the palm of the hand - it means the boy will have a brown palm permanently but it's better to have usable fingers.

I was told where to stand out of the way. 'And if you start to feel unwell...' 'I will leave the room' I finished. 'No! Squat down. Do not try to leave, you will fall over before you get to the door and delay my surgery even more!' OK then :)

I felt fine throughout - a tourniquet meant that the hand didn't bleed much and it was fascinating watching him carefully removing the skin and stretching out the fingers. It wasn't necessarily ideal watching them screw wires down the fingers to keep them straight but he did it with such precision that it made up for it.

'We need a photo!' he said, brusquely.

I looked around wondering who had clean enough hands to touch his camera - everyone had gloves on.

'Camera!' he shouted. Everyone turned to stare at me. Ooops.

'Now press the round button slo...' I pressed the button 'NO! NO! Slowly - you must wait for the squares and for me to say it is OK' Now was not the time to tell him I'd seen the squares and the first shot was fine. Better not to argue with the surgeon, I find.

The conversation got around to how difficult it can be to arrange immigration papers for sick Africans seeking treatment (paid for by charities) in the UK. Goran believes it's easier for Indians and Pakistanis to get in.

The anaesthetist piped up 'Of course, it's because the colonialists took everything with them when they left'
I was just wondering how we had taken the abundant sunshine, the fertile lands, the copper, the precious stones, the hydro electric power, when Goran responded 'That was 50 years ago - what have you done since?'

'But they took everything, the colonialists took all the things we had, that's why we are in this state now'

'I was in Grade 1 when you got independence. What have you done with it?' Goran repeated

I would like to be in the Zambian Government if you can just blame the British for anything bad that happens on your watch - but I'm pretty sure that's not how it works. No clearer answer seemed to be forthcoming.

'Perhaps if you stopped complaining about things that happened 50 years ago and started doing something about it you would find yourself in a better position. Plus, India and Pakistan were colonies of ours too...' I said

'Exactly' said Goran.

Then I went to Theatre 1 to see the inside of a cyst they'd taken out of a lady's abdomen. It was full of hair.

There quickly followed a Caesarean section. Geoff was convinced I'd feel faint at that but I did not. I wasn't necessarily keen on it happening to me though - there's a reason the drapes are there. I was quite surprised to see the uterus lifted out of the body and put on the tummy to aid stitching up [although Fi has seen that in the UK too] - but it was a good opportunity for a quick anatomy lesson and now I know why ladies that have just given birth still look 3 months pregnant.

It was also really nice to see the baby being swaddled by the male midwife and taking its first breath.

The next day I went to the ward to record the C sections and for the first time I already knew one of the ladies there.