On day 18 of our hospital vacation, the doctor and his entourage strutted into our ward and said the magic words we had been desperately waiting to hear: (the desperation increasing as the third gangrene patient was placed in Habiba’s room, making the smell and atmosphere unbearable) “plaster today”. Jumping for joy, I bounced in and out of the different hospital offices, getting police reports signed, getting medications filled, and saying goodbye to the various staff members and patients who we had befriended during our stay. Habiba’s cast was put just above her knee, supporting her broken tibia, and we were told that she would have it on for 1 week. After a quick lesson from the physical therapist, which included how to walk AND break-dance while using crutches, we rolled Habiba into the crowded waiting room and out into the fresh air she hadn’t seen in 19 days. The journey home was long and awful, the public transportation portion ended quickly in Masasi when Habiba’s pain was so intense we realized that getting into the lori (the open backed pick-up that makes up the only transportation to our village) was not going to be possible. Andrew, the student who stayed because of his broken clavicle, and I hustled a taxi into going to our village at half the speed for half the price. The man was amazing, lifting Habiba into his taxi and then adjusting his rear-view mirror onto her so that he could see if she was in pain throughout the ride. The taxi ride was better, and in 2 and a half hours we reached home sweet home.
22 days after the accident, we had a “hospital groupies reunion”, all of those who had already returned from the hospital coming to my house to see Habiba. All of the stiches were out, the cuts healed, and the bones healing. The kids were all happy and excited to continue on with the rest of their “summer” vacation. 2 of the kids braved the busses once again to head on to Dar es Salaam, where they were originally supposed to stay with relatives on the way home from Killy, and two continued on to a school in a near-by town, where it had been previously arranged for them to study during the holiday in order to be ahead in the upcoming school year. This left only me and Miss Habiba to wait out the long month for her cast to come off.
In Tanzania, when you have a relative or a friend who is ill, you have to go to visit them, sitting and staring for hours on end. Habiba and her family decided that it would be best for her to stay in my home, where there would always been a person available to help her, a good amount of room for her to manipulate her crutches, electricity, and of course, a large enough sitting room to accommodate the hoardes of fans and well-wishers. Though the house many days is like grand central station, Habiba is enjoying all of the friends, family, and mangos that come by the dozen.
Though we are still working out the little kinks in our living arrangement, (no matter how hard she tries, Habiba cannot convince me to eat minnows and corn porridge and I cannot convince her to like spaghetti, or consider eating just chocolate cake a meal) we are having a lot of fun together, and we are learning even more about one another each day. Habiba is a celebrity among other peace corps volunteers, being spoiled by gifts, visits, and huge “get well soon” messages all over her cast, (one volunteer, Luke Glaude, (who looks remarkably like a Calvin Klien model) wrote his name in huge letters, and another of my females students saw the name and sighed “I would break my leg if Brother Luka would sign my cast”…ha).
As we get well we are starting the plans for our up-coming projects, Habiba is the student leader of the Peer Educators, as well as the head librarian, so we are working our time-lines and plans for projects as we heal her leg, multi-tasking, one of the American concepts she has learned during her stay here. Soon Habiba and all of the kids will be healed and then nothing will stand in our way of HIV/AIDS education domination…the Mnaviera ward has no idea what its in for!
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