G.I.

Getting stopped by two soldiers armed with machine guns and being threatened with jail time was to me one of the funniest things I've ever experienced. Let me explain.

On a day trip to Jinja with some friends from the local Ultimate Frisbee team, I got to drive part of the way, when we were sure that the roads were safe enough. While I drove, the owner of the car took some pictures of the scenery using my camera, including some ill-fated pictures of a bridge over the Nile.

A pair of guards standing at the end of the bridge saw this, and asked us to pull over. At first it seemed that it was the picture-taking itself that they were irritated about, but it soon became clear that it was not. They had seen foreigners in the car. Foreigners means rich. Rich means ching ching.

They had seen a bribe opportunity.

Only problem was, they had no clue how to elicit a bribe from people. All they did was jump from one wild accusation to another, in desperate hopes of frightening us. We merely answered their questions politely, and told them that we'd be more than willing to speak to their boss if they wanted. This was apparently not something they wanted, so they let us go with a warning. How nice of them.

We ended up driving from there, leaving the soldiers' wallets a little less filled than they perhaps had hoped for.

Hercules

Believe it or not, I was actually up at 5:45 today. Yes, I know, it's a Saturday. At best, the only reason for being up at such hours should be that one hasn't gone to bed in the first place.

But. All the medical procedures from the night shifts are saved up for the early mornings, so getting there really early was the only way for us to participate in these. And why wouldn't I want to? This is what I'm here for!

I got to try a number of different things while I was there. It's particularly fun to try procedures under supervision that one has never tried before, and actually managing them. Femoral taps, for example; drawing blood samples from the femoral vein in infants and young children. It can be quite the challenge.

See, it's hard to tell an infant that the pinprick they're going to feel is done in the best of intentions. This in turn means that they won't quietly lie around while you take the blood sample. No no, they will fight it with every ounce of their body - and sometimes you're left wondering where a baby this tiny gets so much strength from.

Stand in line, mister

Since I've already barely started comparing India and Uganda, here's some more to add to that.

What I've noticed is that the very concept of a queue is nonexistent in both countries. Or perhaps it is a hazy blur, so that "lines" often end up more as a cluster of people. There is one aspect which distinguishes people who sneak in India and people who sneak here though.

Here, if someone sneaks in front of you and you tap them on the shoulder, they turn around and start apologizing profusely. They're suddenly all humility and grace, and almost manage to convince you that they hadn't meant to cut in line. They had just not seen you, honest.

In India, you tap them on the shoulder, and they'll turn around, sure. But moments later they've convinced you that you're the one who's been cutting in line.

Godspeed

Imagine having come here for a period of six weeks, looking forward to all these new experiences that one can get from here, and then getting sick. Really sick.

It's one thing to have seen how things are managed here in low-resource settings. There's a level of respect one gets from that; a knowledge that people don't just sit back and hope for the best, but rather make use of the limited possibilities that they have.

It's another thing entirely to also have seen how disorganized things can be here. Mistakes that are made. Avoidable complications that take place simply because the routines here are less rigid than back at home.

If I were to get really sick, I think I too would go back home, like one member of our group now has decided to do. Back in the company of friends and family, and with a health care system that I trust far more than the one here. Is it unfair that I have this possibility while locals don't? Of course. I'm not sure I'd let that stop me though.

In a rich man's world

Here's an interesting ethical conundrum, and I would love to hear people's opinion on the matter.

Many patients here are poor. With their minimal wages, we see a great number of people who have difficulty sustaining an income at the same time as taking care of their children. This leads to plenty of problems. Some medical investigation or treatment that they need but cannot afford. Not having the chance to follow vaccination programs. Malnutrition.

They need money, we have money. Sure, we're students and don't exactly have splurge economies, but we have enough to be able to give. In fact, we probably wouldn't even notice the change in our wallets' weight. So, should we do it? Should we give them money at all?

One could say that on an individual basis, helping a few is better than helping none at all. No one would blame us if we didn't give money, but should we feel so comfortable with our hands firmly planted behind our backs?

There are arguments against giving, too. Question: if we say yes to one, how do we choose to say no to the next? Would it not be preferable to save up the money and donate it to sustainable projects instead, rather than to give it to individual cases? Are we really doing anyone a service in the long run by coming here as "saviors" to this new world, like a rich uncle coming to save the day?

Yum yum in my tum tum

So far six out of the nine of us here in Uganda have had debilitating tummy problems. Just to stick to tried and tested medical terminology here.

I doubt it's poor hygiene that's behind it. We've all been quite good at washing our hands before eating and being somewhat careful about what kind of places we eat from. Still, I guess a bit of traveller's diarrhea is inevitable for stomachs that are not entirely used to the local cuisine.

The betting stations are open: how long will it take before me and the two others also fell prey to the Curse of the Tourists?

How to survive without blood tests

If I had a patient with anemia back at home, I'd know precisely which blood tests to order to be able to say more about what its cause was, and thus how to treat it. While I'd be twiddling my thumbs and waiting for the blood test results to come, any medical student from here would already have the answer and get on with treating it.

Blood tests, as well as other investigations, are expensive here. Patients often have to pay for things themselves, which often stands as a huge limitation in patient treatment. There is a silver lining though: doctors here become masters at finding stuff out just by clinical examination.

There's so much you can find out just by using basic tests. Palpating the spleen to see if it shows signs of increased destruction of blood cells. Looking for signs of small bleeding spots called petechia, indicating that there might be something wrong with the bone marrow's production of blood cells. And the list goes on.

Perhaps if I'm here for long enough, I too will learn how to not twiddle thumbs.