A week in Mochudi.

Written in Mochudi:

Dumelang bo-mma le bo-rra,

(Hello ladies and gentlemen)

Fair warning: this will be an EXTREMELY long post since I have spent a week in an entirely different place.

I am currently writing this while in my host family’s home which is located in a rural village in Botswana called Mochudi.  To begin explaining my experience, I guess I should describe my family and its dynamics.  I have a mother, a granny, a sister, a niece and a nephew.  My granny is 85 and diabetic.  As a result, she has lost one of her legs so she spends most of the day lying in her bed except for the occasional walk around the house using the help of two crutches and a fake leg.  My mother works for Botswana post and only had one child.  Her daughter, who is now my sister, is 26 and currently unemployed but graduated with a diploma (the equivalent of our degree) in information technology.  Her name is Tshepiso and has two children.  The eldest is 15 and his name is Lesedi.  Yes, that means Tshepiso has him when she was 11 years old.  My niece, Tshepiso’s youngest, is 4 and is named Lone.  There is also a cousin who lives with us named Kabelo but he is rarely seen.  Also related to my family is Sean’s family.  By coincidence, we ended up being cousins and living directly next to each other. 

My family plus Tabo, Sean's brother on the far left.

This brings me to the family dynamic which I have found in this house.  I came into Mochudi expecting to find a house-hold which is entirely dominated by men.  What I found, however, was completely opposite.  Batsi and other lecturers had warned us that in Mochudi, the traditional values were still very much observed.  This meant that women were to cater to men hand and foot.  We were told, as women, that we may have to do anything from cooking, to washing laundry, to sitting on the floor when a man enters the room so he has a seat.  Now a day, at least in my family, the boys cater to the women.  I believe some of this may have to do with the fact that all the women in my family are single and there is only one son in the house.  In fact, it is to the point that I feel bad for my nephew because he is always being yelled at to do this or that for his mother and grandmother.  In fact, I started sneaking him lollipops I brought home every once in awhile because he never gets any attention compared to Lone.  Anyway, I have connected pretty well with all of them except for granny who does not speak English which makes it difficult to bond over anything. 

There have definitely been times that I have been ready to leave Mochudi just because it gets old constantly trying to fight the ideas people how about Americans’ and their finances.   I cannot tell you how many time people, even my sister, have asked me to buy them something or give them something for free.  I feel bad because most people just can’t comprehend the idea that finances are relative and that’s why I seem like I have a lot of money here.  I have also had three or four people ask me to either take them or even their children back to the United States.  At first I played along with it and said if they could afford a ticket, I’d take them but it’s gotten to the point where I just say no.  Again, I feel bad but life isn’t as glorious as it seems in the US.  We still have plenty of poverty and inequalities we need to deal with on our own.  I could vent about the misconceptions of the US based off of media for hours but I will spare everyone and move on.

Sunday, the second day living in my new home, I joined Sean’s side of the family at the cattle post.  This is basically a HUGE farm for cows that is family run and owned in order to feed themselves and make some money.  Tabo, Sean’s brother told me they only had ten cattle but that was clearly a joke when we pulled up to a pen with 100 cattle.  I have never seen that many cows in one place!! It was pretty hilarious to listen to them all mooing and watch them all jockey for positions attempting to avoid being milked.  It sounds so stupid but I was actually REALLY excited to try and milk one or at least pet one.  I guess the animal lover in me came out that day and I did in fact milk a cow!  It was my first time and it was nothing like what I expected!  I managed to get a few squirts out but it was not as easy as I thought it’d be.  After about 5 minutes I have to let the professionals take over.  There are two men who live at the cattle post permanently in order to take care of the cattle.  I cannot imagine living that way because they are about an hour away from civilization and without any form of transportation.  I was told they are to wait for donkey carts (they are exactly what they sound like) if they want to ride anywhere. 

We spent nearly the entire day there and made some new friends who also live in Mochudi.  I was the only girl there so naturally, the guys had lots of awkward questions for me.  It was interesting though to talk with people and find out what goes on in their heads.  Many of the men here honestly do not value the idea of having one sexual partner at all.  It’s hard to listen to that and know they will not understand the importance of being faithful.  Many men here believe they have the right to leave a woman if she is unfaithful but they have no problems suggesting it to a woman they have only know for a few hours.  In fact, it is very common around here to hear people say they love you after they have seen you pass on the street.  The only good thing is that it seems like women are becoming wise to those tricks and are taking a stand against cheating men.  The problem, however, is that many times, them taking a stand means they go out and cheat also.  It’s a huge problem that needs to be stopped if the HIV/AIDS issue will ever be solved. 

I did meet one person at the cattle post who I found to be very interesting.  He is from Zimbabwe and was probably the smartest and most level headed person there.  Maybe I am biased from my little trip to Zim but after talking to him for a long time I truly believe he knows what he is talking about and cared about being informed.  He talked to me about the issues surrounding Botswana and Zimbabwe along with the theories of parenting.  He has two daughters and claims that is why he is so calm and collected.  Those are the people I love talking to here because I learn so much from them and their views on the world.  That is what I came to Africa for and I’m starting to think that it’s even better that I don’t find those people everywhere.  I have to look for them and once I find them, I thoroughly enjoy their company.

Coming back from the cattle post, I was very tired and the rest of the night was not filled with much.  Monday was about the same because my paper work did not go through for me to start at the clinic so I spent the day with my sister.  We went into Gabs to get some produce but instead shopped for her.  I don’t understand that because she is constantly saying how much money she doesn’t have yet she wants to spend more.  Seems that attitude is all over the world. 

Tuesday was the start to my rural clinic experience which turned out to have many surprises in store for me.  The first day, I saw things I never would have expected.  The level of care found in a rural clinic, in my opinion, is twice as good as that found in Gaborone, the capital of Botswana.  I think I have narrowed the causes to two.  One, there is much more space which allows for more rooms in order to provide more privacy and better working conditions.  The second is a larger staff.  The staff size was something that I had suggested be increased for the clinic in Gaborone and I believe that suggestion was proved valid this past week.  The people were so much more friendly and happy to be there.  They had time for mental breaks and were able to switch positions.  This is not to say the nurses here are not overworked because they most definitely are.  I made good friends with two of them, Thabiso (male) and Onneetse (female).  After spending four days with them, I see that they are incredibly smart and know exactly what is wrong with the governmental health care system.  They know the psychology behind treating patients and the theories behind sanitation and efficient work-ethic.  As a result, they work hard but are rewarded with pleasant patients and most afternoons free because they finish with patients early.  They are each trained in general nursing which means they can literally run the clinic on their own and, in fact, sometimes do.  There are health posts which are positioned in the middle of nowhere so the men working at cattle posts can be seen.  At these health posts, ONE nurse must do absolutely everything from consultations, to dispensing drugs, to injections/drawing blood, to suturing.  The most amazing part is that they know that things should not be so that they work alone like that in the most rural of areas but they do their time without many complaints.  Despite all of their brains and knowledge, they still disregard some basic safety issues such as wearing gloves during injections and I don’t know why.

Giving injections in a classroom.

The hardest part about working with the nurses this week was that I wish I could improve conditions for them.  They still work without the appropriate equipment and are expected to provide quality health care.  One of the biggest problems has come from the Ministry of Health in Botswana taking over the government clinics rather than local governments.  Due to this, there has been a huge drop in funding and it is becoming increasingly difficult for the clinic to provide transportation for patients to the hospital if needed.  I am not usually a very emotional person when it comes to prayer or other religious events but something got to me in the past four days at the clinic.  Every morning, before starting, a prayer is sung by all patients and staff.  Each day as I sat with the nurses and listened to the people singing and looked at all of the people in need of medical assistance, I thought about the struggles each of these people go through every day.  They are to the point that they cannot feed themselves and their families.  Some cannot afford indoor plumbing, screens on their windows, or doors on their houses.  It’s amazing the conditions some of these people live in while half way around the world someone else will be living in a multi-million dollar home by themselves.  It’s disgusting; these people did not do anything to deserve the struggles they have.  Everyone at the clinic knows their situations are not right and the diseases people in this area along with many others around the world are terrible yet preventable.  The staff does all it can given the supplies they have but it is still not the best care possible.  The amazing part is that each day these people come back to work and continue their daily lives with the faith that something will change.   I cannot imagine having the amount of optimism they have given the situations they are given.  I guess that goes to show the power of faith.

Clinic

I know this is getting absurdly long but I need to talk about one more thing.  The home based care which is provided by the clinic.  Thursday afternoon I visited one woman in particular who really touched me.  She is 81 and is so arthritic that she cannot sit up, stand, cook, or bath herself.  This woman literally lays in bad all day without human interaction, a TV, or music.  She has one son who comes to feed her twice a day but other than that she is alone.  She uses Pampers at night but there is a nation-wide shortage so during the day she must slowly move her legs over the side of the bed so she can use a bucket on the floor and then struggle to get her legs back on the bed.  She attempted to show us but was unable due to the pain.  This woman’s knuckles where so swollen and painful looking.  Her hands looked like the knuckles were on backwards.  Apparently there are volunteers who are supposed to come clean the bed linens and give her a bath each day but due to the lack of transportation from the clinic, they no longer come each day.  She has no idea when she will see them next and as a result may go days without a bath and clean sheets.  I leave it to the imagination the stench of her room due to her use of the bucket next to her bed as a toilet.  This woman is probably the most helpless person I have ever seen but yet she continues on each day living this way because there is no option.  I believe this woman has sparked a new interest of creating hospice care in these countries.  There is no way a human being should live that way and not be able to speak to at least one person a day and have someone check to see she is still alive.  The nurses only stop by when she is in need of more medication or if someone reports a change in her health.  That is not enough.  It was so sad but I wanted to stay and talk with her for hours.  I don’t think that I will ever forget the look in her eyes when she saw us walk in a sit down to talk.  It was unbelievable. 

Well, I guess that’s enough sob stories for this week.  Not much else happened but this has been one of the best weeks since I got here.  I loved working with this staff and learning from their situation and experiences.  I am going to miss them so much but I believe I will come back and visit at some point before I leave for the US.  Tomorrow, Saturday, I am going to a wedding with the family from Gabs (Mosetses') that is taking care of me and then I am moving back to UB on Sunday.  This week has gone by fast but has been so valuable.  The good news about going back to Gabs though is that Cape Town is only 6 days away!!!!!

Before the wedding with the Mosetse family.

Bride and groom dancing a traditional dance.

A post not for the faint of heart.

This post is a bit different from the rest of what I have been writing.  Instead of freely writing what I am thinking and experiencing, I have decided to post a portion of my clinical log that I have written for my class.  This is the log with follows my observations and reactions to everything I have seen in the past three weeks at one government run clinic alone.  I personally don't feel like it is too graphic but I will say that some of the things which I have seen are unbelievable and quite honestly, disturbing.  I apologize if anyone is offended or just grossed out but I think it is important for me to share these things as I am here in Botswana to study public health.  Please keep in mind this is not proof read nor finished so don't fault me for any mistakes!! :-)

Also, as a side note:

I will be traveling to Mochudi in the following week which is a village outside of Gaborone.  I will be staying with a host family and therefore will not have any internet access from the 12th to the 20th.  I will definitely have lots of stories when I return from there!!

Clinical Log #1:

In order to fully understand the aspects of public health which come into play in places such a Gaborone, it is necessary to have hands on experience.  The past three weeks, I have spent my Tuesday mornings observing at a clinic in Gaborone.  My initial impressions were ones which questioned how well any health professional could actually consult and treat patients in such a small and confined space.  The observations which I have collected in the past few weeks have proved to question much more than that initial observation.

My first Tuesday in the clinic was 25 January, 2011.  Upon entering, I found a waiting room approximately half filled with patients waiting to be seen.  The time was close to 8:30 am and patients had yet to be seen.  I had been told by one of the nurses in training that the clinic opens daily at 7:30.  Immediately a queue forms.  Speaking to the nurses that were sitting around, I realized that most of the staff in the clinic are not true nurses but nurses who have yet to graduate their program.  In total, there was one doctor who would not come until the afternoon, two trained nurses, and four nurses in training.  Due to the slow start to the day, I was able to ask a few questions of the nurse I was paired with for the day.  I learned that each patient, if from Botswana, pays P5 per visit.  While speaking with her, I noticed another nurse using a tongue depressor she had pulled form a box of sterile supplies in order to rip paper in straight lines.  After using that and putting it on the table where patients are seen, she continued to place the tongue depressor back into the box of sterile supplies. 

For the first day, I was put into the maternity and family planning section of the clinic.  The women were all asked to lie down on an examination table which was covered with a red plastic material used to protect from infection.  The nurse examined the patient using a glove but did not wash her hands after examination.  The red plastic was not changed despite finding out that the previous patient was infected with HIV.  It was not until one hour and 15 minutes after the nurse began to see patients that she washed her hands with soap and water.  Another issue found in the family planning section of the clinic is the lack of supplies in order to give a proper examination or to give the actual family planning injections.  Several patients had to be turned away and sent to another clinic in order to get the medicines and treatments they were requesting.  In the event that the clinic could provide the injections needed, the nurse did not take the time to clean the skin before injecting the patient nor did she take precautions to protect herself from any contaminations as she grabbed the needles bare-handed after use.  The final major observation made in the first day was the lack of privacy in the examination rooms.  Many times, multiple patients were found in the same room and people were able to walk in on pregnant women who were on the examination table in the middle of being checked. 

The second day at the clinic was spent in the dressing, injection, and bleeding room.  The three of those procedures are all preformed in the same room.  All patients seen were in for re-bandaging.  Each patients was told to undress wounds themselves and were given soap that the nurse had brought from home in order to wash hands.  Patients were forced to stand in uncomfortable positions for prolonged periods of time while the nurse was distracted from re-dressing the wound by a passer-by talking of the malaria outbreak.  New gloves were used for each patient seen and the nurses washed their hands after each patient, however, there were two patients in the room at a time at one point.  At the registration table, there was only one blood pressure machine working and the battery died quite frequently.  In the event of a dead battery, a hand machine was used with a faulty hose causing the nurse to take the blood pressure several times in order to get a semi-accurate reading.  One patient complained of waiting for three hours before even being registered while another patient had waited that period of time before having discovered she had a blood pressure of 192/160.  In this case, she was immediately seen and took precedence over the other patients. 

My third visit to the clinic was spent with the visiting doctor who was sent by the government.  He immediately seemed more focused and motivated to see patients and quickly yet efficiently treat them.  The doctor only spoke a bit of Setswana however thus needing to call in a nurse to interpret once in awhile.  One patient he saw could not be prescribed medicines because there was no way to transfer records from one doctor to another, a flaw in using the hand written record keeping system.  Each time the doctor touched the patient, he washed his hands with soap and water.  He mentioned he would be quick with patients to keep the queue moving, however, in the event of a person needing more attention such as a nicotine addicted patient, he was more relaxed and took the time to suggest solutions.  The same problem with the red plastic covering for the bed existed, however, as a patient who had experienced a miscarriage and was now bleeding laid on the bed followed by a patient who the doctor suspected of having an STI all without cleaning or changing the plastic.  The doctor was very careful to explain to a patient the importance of going to get further tests but was frustrated when the clinic did not have the supplies needed in order to perform a simple PAP smear.  When asked, the doctor said he could see any number of patients, usually averaging 100 per day.

The situations which are found at the Broadhurst 2 clinic are unbelievable.  At no time is it acceptable for a patient to be put at unnecessary risk for contracting a disease or illness.  The attitude of the nurses as they slowly move through the registration process and the consultations makes the atmosphere anything but pleasurable.  The suffering of each patient in a three hour queue without access to water or a bathroom is not a suitable situation for a person dealing with a so-called “advanced” health care system.  Patients’ privacy is completely ignored and their dignity is stripped as they must endure the constant interruptions during their consultations.  During all that the patients encounter during their attempts at making it through the clinic, they are exposed to countless infections which are completely avoidable.  The standards at which the nurses in the clinic are allowed to work are remarkable as there seems to be no supervision which must be noticeable to patients.  If a doctor comments on how poorly run a clinic is, there must be some changes made in order to provide to services and protections that a clinic is required to provide.

Found my happy place in Africa

I apologize for the lapse in time between posts but the good news is that there is a ton of stuff to talk about!  I guess I will just begin with things in order of when they happened.  First off, last Tuesday was my first day in the Broadhurst 2 Clinic.  The clinic is about 15 minutes away from campus by combi.  I had some trouble getting there just because I was at the wrong combi stop but once I got on to the right route, things got easier.  The weird part about that ride however, was the proposal I received from the driver.  At one point I was the only passenger and he proceeded to ask me if I was married.  I stupidly said no (I now know to always say yes)so he began asking me what he had to do to marry me.  I told him that everyone back home wouldn't be too thrilled with that but I don't think he really caught my drift.  That made the last 5 minutes of the ride interesting but luckily I just got out of the combi and have yet to see him again.  Once I was in the clinic, I was teamed up with some nurses in training and the head nurse in the maternity section.  I was so sick of seeing pregnant women by the time I left the clinic 3 and a half hours later but I definitely learned a lot.  I'm sure people aren't too interested in hearing all the gross details but I will make a point of saying I have never appreciated the health care system in the US so much.  Every woman was supposed to use the same plastic protective covering for the table the sat and laid on so I don't know what that was protecting them from.  Also, the nurse did not wash her hands after examinations until about an hour in to the day.  The patients have no form of privacy as other patients or anyone who is capable of turning a door knob walk through the examination rooms without any trouble.  Nothing was said about it but I was embarrassed and uncomfortable for them.  There are way more things that just were not right but I won't bore anyone with those observations.

Today was my second day at the hospital (I go every Tuesday from 7:30-12) but I had even more trouble getting there.  I don't know what happened but I ended up on the combi going in the opposite direction.  Luckily the driver and his fellow combi worker were extremely helpful and nice so I just stayed on that combi and completely reversed the route.  Once I got there, I got the chance to go into the room where they dress wounds, give injections, ad draw blood. Yes, they are all in the same room.  Again, the biggest thing I noticed was that there is no privacy, even for a man who had to drop his pants and stand in a strange position in order for the nurse to treat his wound.  I could not believe that people are able to walk right in and out and see everything that was going on.  I felt as if I shouldn't be looking and I am supposed to be in there observing.  Anyway, the dressing room was way more exciting than the maternity room last week.  Once again, my frustration continued with the clinic due to the lack of soap in rooms.  The week before the nurse only used soap once and this time a nurse had to bring in disinfectant so the patient who undressed their bleeding wounds themselves could semi-wash their hands.  It's a disgrace because as I found out today, all the clinic needs to do is put in a request for the equipment and the government will supply it.  I have no idea what the people who are in charge of the clinic are thinking.  Also, it would be beneficial to have a medicine counter open in a clinic which is prescribing medicines for patients, especially in a time of a malaria outbreak but the one in that clinic has been closed every time I have been there.  The one good thing I did learn though is that in the case of emergencies (such as a woman today who had a blood pressure of 192/160 if that's even possible), the patients do not have to wait in the 3+ hour line in order to see the doctor.  It was nice hearing some form of sane thinking this morning.

I guess I messed up my timeline a bit but I figured I'd save the big story to last.  This past weekend I experienced the most amazing portion of my trip yet.  Sam, Grady, Sean, and I left Thursday night and took a bus for about 16 hours to to Zambia in order to see Victoria Falls.  Along the way we saw some elephants and Sean claims he saw a rhino all just hanging out by the side of the road.  It was incredible to see these animals just wandering the wild knowing that they are in now way fenced in to any areas.  I love seeing animals where they actually belong.  Once we left the Botswana border post, we had to cross the Zambezi River via ferry.  While we were waiting, I kept hearing noises and seeing ripples in the water.  My hopes were up that it'd be a hippo since they are my favorite animals in the wild.  Nothing appeared until we were actually crossing the river when sure enough, the mouth of a hippo came out of the water and snapped shut!!! It was definitely one of the coolest things I have ever seen.  Unfortunately I only got a picture of its ears and nose sticking out of the water but the picture in my head is so clear.  Anyway, once we got into Zambia, we made out way to Livingstone Backpackers which was one of the most amazing hostels that I think exists in the world.  There we met up with Luke and Taylor, two other people from UB.  There was no rest for the weary as we hopped right into a free shuttle provided for Vic Falls.

I can honestly say that Victoria Falls was one of the most amazing and beautiful things I have ever seen in person.  I could only think of all the water that was falling over the end of the rocks and how beautifully green all of the plants were.  The mist comes up from the bottom of the falls so it appears to be raining up but in reality it is raining in all directions.  We were completely drenched within 5 minutes of being there but it was so worth it for the views we had.  Zambia is the home to only 1/3 of the entire falls which is almost 2 miles long.  There were points where the mist was so heavy that there was a complete white-out and we couldn't see much of anything.  Words and pictures cannot even begin to describe how powerful and overwhelming those sights were.  I don't think any of us stopped smiling but I must admit that it made me miss home.  I just wanted to be able to share those moments with all my close friends and family from home.  The strangest part about the falls was talking to the people who live there though.  Many of them have never seen the falls and I believe it is due to money.  Tourism has hiked up the prices of Victoria Falls entrance fees and I can't help but feel bad that these people cannot enjoy the beauty that is in their backyards.  When we continued on we came to yet another part of the day which was amazing.  We ended up basically on the lip of the falls.  This part is crazy because there is a distinct line going straight up from the end of the falls where the mist and rain stops and the sun and warmth dominate.  The pictures that follow attempt to show the beauty of it all but I don't think they do an accurate job.

Later that day, we walked around the town of Livingstone in which there was a market.  People in the northern part of Southern Africa apparently LOVE to barter for things because some man asked me for my hair tie and a few US dollars in exchange for a beautiful picture of a traditional couple.  I am fairly positive I made out well in that trade.  Friends of mine traded anything from clothes to tools to floss.  It was quite entertaining.

Saturday when we woke up, the six of us decided to be spontaneous and cross the border into Zimbabwe.  I cannot say how glad I am for that choice.  We went into the town of Victoria Falls and spent the day with our friend George we met there and in a craft market.  I met some amazing women who work so hard in order to scrap by and spent time playing with my new little friend named Yuna (she was 3).

I bought several things from the market and honestly felt broken hearted when we had to leave.  George was an awesome person to meet also because he showed us the town and spoke to us about anything we wanted.  The most important thing I feel I need to mention is that the people of Zimbabwe are embarrassed of their government.  Those people are some of the most hard working and intelligent people I have met in the past month.  Unfortunately, their president will not allow for himself to loose an election and will beat people who vote against him.  According to George, he was not to be president last time around but his men forged ballots for the 37% of registered voters who happen to be dead.  They are basically waiting for him to die in office and once that does, I have no doubt that Zim will take off as the new African jewel.  I cannot wait for that day.

Saturday night did not disappoint me either.  We spent the night on an overnight train which took us to Bulawayo, the largest city in Southern Zimbabwe.  The train was old and rickety and wonderful.  Luke and I talked about life as we hung our arms and heads out the windows watching the sun set on the countryside of Zimbabwe.  If I could have stayed in the moment for the entire trip, I would have been so happy.  That is one of the most peaceful times I have ever had and the country is unbelievably gorgeous.

It was during that time on the train that I realized I have found my happy place in Africa.  I found the place that I expected to find in Botswana.  Bots has it's own advantages but the people, the work ethic, the history, the culture, the scenery...it is ALL in Zimbabwe.  I don't know how or when but I will be going back there at some point in my life.  I was very close to tears when I had to leave.  That was surprising considering the fact that I had only spent two days in the country.  

We did not leave without some adventures, however.  Thanks to our friend Grady, we got to experience the legal system first hand.  Unbeknown to us, urinating in public is illegal in Zimbabwe, unlike in Botswana (well at least no one cares in Bots) and when Grady went to relieve himself, a man told him he could not do that.  Thinking the man was attempting to mug him, Grady simply walked off mumbling a few words under his breath and got back in the combi.  The officer came and found Grady, got him off the combi and walked away with him without any words.   My first thoughts were, "Oh my God, Grady is going to be arrested in Zimbabwe, we will never get him out." but then Luke came to the rescue.  We assumed since the police were so corrupt, they would just want money but apparently claiming your status as being a tourist does wonders as well.  Grady and Luke returned 10 minutes later with nothing except a fairly hilarious story to tell about Grady's near imprisonment in a country with one of the world's most corrupt governments.  Luckily we continued on home with no other issues.

I apologize for such a long post but I have so many emotions, thoughts, and memories about Zimbabwe and Zambia that I cannot help myself.  I wish that people could experience the real people and culture of Zim and not have to hear the awfulness that is the government.  I want so badly for their luck to turn around and for them to finally flourish again for their efforts.  5 years ago, there were very few people begging for money and food or being forced to sell crafts to make a living.  It is amazing how one man, the president, can absolutely destroy a country with such potential.  I am not one for suggesting much US intervention with other countries but I do wish so much that there was some way to end their suffering.  Being able to meet and talk with individuals and hearing their stories has some strong powers and I definitely feel like I have fell in love with that country. 

I guess I should stop myself from writing now considering this is the longest post in the world but I will continue to think about my trip and hope that maybe I can find a way to go back one day.  I know people from home might think I am crazy for having gone there in the first place but I want to see everything possible and because I did, I had a wonderful weekend.