Tuesday, July 17, 2012

A Comedy of Errors and 43 Spectacular Views


We have finally arrived home from Gondar and our excursions in the Simien Mountains! It was a wonderful trip on the whole but one ripe with misadventures and entertainment. A good week for highs, lows, and challenges if you will.
            We started the trip sipping macchiatos in the Addis domestic airport waiting to go through security to board our flight. As we were sleepily gazing around the lobby, a fellow traveler called for a doctor. Since we had a third year medicine resident, Sara, with us, we volunteered to check it out. The girls stayed behind while Ira, Steven, Chris, and Sara went to check on the situation developing in the men’s bathroom. Sure that someone had a syncopal episode or was suffering from a habesha GI virus we weren’t too concerned. Once we saw Steven’s face as he returned from the restroom, we knew it was more serious. We followed him in and there lying on the floor, was a large German man, covered in his own urine, ashen, unresponsive and pulseless. Immediately we started helping with chest compressions. At this point, the men had already cracked his sternum and broken most of his ribs in their efforts so we were spared the gut twisting sound of a man’s ribs breaking in efforts to save his life. Sandy, Ira, Chris, Steven, and I all took turns doing CPR as Sara lead and coached us on our depth and speed. We continued to check femoral pulses and continued to find no response. All the while, Ira continued to beg airport employees to call some sort of emergency response team and Karen tried desperately to find and contact anyone who knew the man lying on the floor. We are told again and again that the emergency response was coming although no one really seemed to care that a man was dying in the bathroom. Men continued to amble along in and out of the restroom, using the facilities, and walking out after staring at us for a bit. 25 minutes later, as we were all sweating and tiring from pumping this man’s chest, a nurse shows up with a green bag containing medical equipment.
            Let me take a break for a moment and describe what this would look like in America. A man collapses to the floor due to a massive heart attack in the bathroom. Immediately someone notifies airport staff and an emergency response team is called. Around the corner, someone grabs an AED (a defibrillator), begins CPR and attempts to shock the man into a life sustaining rhythm. Within minutes, an emergency response unit is there ready to continue resuscitation and transport the man to the nearest hospital. While the prognosis is probably not great, there is a chance that the man may survive. Now back to our story.
            The nurse who showed up ruffled through the kit she had dragged with her, took out a blood pressure cuff and stethoscope and attempted to take the man’s blood pressure. At this moment, the only reason this man was perfusing his brain and the rest of his body wass due to our compressions. Thus his only measurable blood pressure is a direct result of our efforts. However, she doesn’t understand this as I tried to explain it to her and she continued to get in the way of us doing compressions to check his pressure. Exasperated, I ripped the blood pressure cuff out of her hands and threw it on the other side of the room, so that Sandy could continue CPR. Searching through the bag, we finally found some epinephrine that was in glass bottles that snap off at the top. I tried to open the bottles in order to push the drug through the peripheral IV access that Sara was working on, but the bottle was so old, it literally disintegrated in my hand the second I tried to open it. The second bottle did the same. The remaining items in the kit included some gauze and tape. At this point we realized that there was nothing else we could do for this man. We felt horrible walking away, but with no additional medical response, we were too limited to do anything else. Almost 40 minutes into the ordeal, a man shows up wearing an orange construction vest with a wheelchair. Hello “emergency response.” We were assured that an ambulance was waiting for this man right outside, but not a single one of us believed it. We helped lift this poor man’s body into the wheelchair and they rolled him through the airport with absolute no sense of shame or urgency and out the door he went. No one in the terminal lobby even gave them a second look.
            It was 7:00am and 1 hour into our trip.
            Even though I am beginning my fourth year of medical school, I have never seen a code. I have never done CPR on an actually person, and I have only seen someone actively die once or twice, but here I was on the floor of an Ethiopian bathroom, covered in a man’s urine, desperately trying to do anything, immensely limited by my lack of experience and our lack of medical support. I still see his face sometimes—his ashen skin, blue glazed eyes, mouth bloodied. His lungs had continued to breathe for him despite his lack of cardiac activity. I think the thing that made it that much harder, was the amazing indifference demonstrated by everyone else in the airport. A man lost his life, alone, in the least dignified way possible, and no one cared. Only one women, whose job it was to perform a traditional coffee ceremony, wet her eyes with tears. It was something I will never forget.
            Remarkably, we made our flight to Gondar and our trip was ripe with talk of what we all had just experienced. As we landed, we were picked up by our guides who would drive us to Debark to start our trek through the mountains. The drive was over two hours and as we neared our destination, it began to rain. Not mild feathered rain, mind you, but all consuming rain. However, due to the massive changes in altitude we would be experiencing, our guide, Tesfy, decided we needed to hike into camp to acclimate. Luckily the hike in was only two hours, but it was spent sliding in mud, huddled in rain jackets, and eyes glued to the ground as we carefully navigated every step. Our view was obscured with a misty fog so heavy that we could barely see those in front of us. As we finally pulled into camp, soaked from head to toe, we were relieved to see that our camp was already set up and waiting for us was warm, salty popcorn and thermoses of tea and coffee set up on a long table covered in a gold table cloth. A fire was built and we busied ourselves drying our clothes as the rain continued to pour down outside. Our spirits slowly lifted as we regained feeling in our fingers and toes and as we filled ourselves with warm tea. The rest of our guides were busily chopping to the side of the hut and soon the tent was filled with the smell of onion, garlic, and spices. Little did we know that our chef, Alem, was famous for his culinary masterpieces. He soon approached us, dressed in a traditional chef’s uniform (hat included) and announced to us that dinner was ready. As with each remaining night of our trip, we were treated to a four course meal including freshly made soup, pasta, chicken, four to five different vegetable dishes, and dessert of cookies and pineapple. He eagerly watched us scarf down our food and like our mothers back at home, made sure we cleared each plate. Now this is camping.


Our campsite. To the right is the hut where we would have our meals and stay dry by the fire

Our living quarters
Karen and I enjoying the spectacular views 

              The next day we were lucky enough that the sun was shining and we headed out on our first big six-hour trek. We passed through hoards of Gelada baboons, who are completely docile and have no fear of humans, caught views of incredible waterfalls and giant cliffs emptying into lush green valleys, and forged rivers cold as ice. It was a perfect hiking day, except for the fact that I was suffering from the habesha GI virus. That day definitely squelched any shame I had remaining in me. Talk about being one with nature. I was lucky enough that my body felt well enough to keep on trekking, but it was definitely suboptimal. This day we were led by our scout, as our guide Tesfy, was escorting Sara (who unfortunately was not feeling well) back to Gondar. According to park regulations, every group traveling through must have a scout escort them at all times and he must be armed with a gun. Our particular scout carried an AK-74 and was fond of singing to himself, making sheep noises, and habesha dancing early in the morning to the radio. He loved my repeated enthusiastic replies of “gobez” which I had been told meant “good” but actually means “clever.” Again, people here are fairly amused by my idiocy. Our scout had a warm place in all of our hearts. He watched over us protectively and guarded us each night from jackals that apparently like to steal shoes. It is still unclear as to whether they were referring to animals or people when they discussed the jackals surrounding us. Our scout even lovingly covered Sandy’s vomit with dirt when she too came down with the habesha GI virus. Needless to say, he received a very large tip at the end.
             Again that night we were treated to coffee and tea, a four-course dinner, warm fires, and much to our delight, ice cold St. George beer and Coca Cola. We played Yahtzee to our hearts content and retired for bed at a normal 7:30pm. When it gets dark and it begins to really freeze, there is no better place than cocooned in two sleeping bags in your tent with 5 layers of smokey clothing clinging to your body. Sleeping in the clothes you wear on a daily basis is incredibly convenient I’ve noticed, especially when hygiene only really consists of wiping your face with a moist toilette and brushing your teeth. I’m telling you, I made roughing it look good.
            Unfortunately, our luck of weather died with that night and we spent the remainder of our hike draped in foggy mist. While it wasn’t raining thankfully, it remained cold, and most of our views were obstructed by the fog. On the third day of our trek, we hiked 7 hours to the peak of Mama Mia (much Abba was sung on that mountain). The peak stands at 4100m and we were breathing quite heavily as we summited. Although our spectacular view (Tesfy was quite fond of this phrase, almost as much as he liked to sit us down to discuss our program for the next few hours) was blanketed in white, being up on top of that mountain felt incredible. It was the highest I have ever been and felt really proud and happy that I had made it. The wind began to blow in earnest on the peak and soon, we began to eagerly bound back down the mountain towards camp. As we approached our last night in the Simiens we anxiously awaited our sure to be amazing meal from Alem, our scout’s loving watch, and Tesfy’s reiteration of our program that lay ahead. That afternoon at camp, we even caught a glimpse of the elusive Ethiopian ibex—a huge beast with horns that were literally 2/3 of its body length. Although we spent the majority of the time cold and muddy, a good portion of the time completely wet, and all of the time short of breath from climbing and singing, trekking through those mountains was a trip we will all remember for a lifetime.
            The next morning we spent some time hiking around hoping the clouds would clear for some more views, but unfortunately, the mist persisted. So we loaded up our trucks and headed back to Debark and Gondar. Well some of us did. As I’m sure most of you can imagine, underdeveloped roads during rainy season tend to get a little muddy. The truck carrying Karen, Steven, and Emily plowed ahead and up the mountain, while our truck had some difficulties. We slide up and down on the muddy road, literally five feet from a cliff, trying to make our way up. I was desperately clutching Ira’s sunburned arm much to his chagrin, exclaiming that I had much more to give in this life fighting back a tear or two, while Tesfy laughed at my absurdity. Apparently, fearing that the tin vehicle you are in which the driver has no control over while in spitting distance of a cliff leading to sure destruction is very funny to Ethiopians. Finally we were ordered out of the car and all of us began to mentally prepare, as we stood in the pouring rain, for the guaranteed 4 day hike back to Debark, when out of nowhere, at least 30 Ethiopian men began to mobilize into action. A short, 4-foot rope was tied to the bumper of the car and a man chain was formed. Some men grabbed the rope but the majority of them were clinging on to each other as they began to literally pull the car up the mountain. It was one of the most ridiculous things I have ever seen.  Their strength and dedication paid off and soon enough our truck was out of the mud and up the mountain. We paid them generously for their efforts and off we went.
            I wish for time’s sake that I could say that our adventures stopped there, but much more ridiculousness was ahead for us. The four star service of our guide and his crew was again evident when we found out that our hotel in Gondar had been booked and paid for already so we were soon on our way to warm showers and clean beds. Our hotel was beautiful and when we arrived they prepared a traditional coffee ceremony for us. We wandered around the city of Gondar and then headed to dinner at The Four Sisters Restaurant. The restaurant was stunning, covered in traditional Ethiopian paintings, and we knew we were in for a delicious night. We ordered shiro, tibs, and the fasting plate and went to town. Unfortunately, as we were getting to leave, it began to rain (I can imagine you are getting the idea of rainy season in Ethiopia now), so we decided to wait out the storm before heading back to the hotel. At this time, Steven was already up making friends, and playing one of the traditional musical instruments. All of the sudden, the sisters started singing, and we were up in a dance circle as they tried to teach us how to habesha dance. We had a soul train line and we chanted and danced in circles as everyone else in the restaurant clapped and laughed at us. As the music and rain died down, we sadly said our goodbyes and headed home. There at the hotel, we resumed our dance party as we shimmied our shoulders, jutted out our chins, and flipped our hair to Teddy Afro much to the delight of the hotel staff. It was a great way to end our final night in Gondar.
            The next morning we got up early so we could visit the castles of Gondar before our afternoon flight. Gondar is part of the northern historical circuit as well and is known for castles that stand in the center of the city. We were delighted when a certified tour guide was there ready to take us through the history of the city and the kings that had ruled there. We had no idea what was to come ahead. I’m sure most of you have seen Ferris Bueller’s Day Off at some point in your lives. Most of you actually probably watched it due to my repeated insistence. Remember when Ben Stein gives that riveting lecture on voodoo economics? Got it? Now imagine sitting in that lecture for one and a half hours. Welcome to our tour of Gondar. I’m not quite sure how, since I was zoned out pretty much the entire time, but we somehow covered all of Ethiopian history, talked about psoriasis, the Empire State Building, the Sistine Chapel, and had a quiz in the history of water filtration. Of course, being the good medical students that they are, Sandy, Ira and Chris absorbed and enjoyed most of it, but the rest of us were slowly dying and losing our minds. Luckily, we were able to cut the tour short so we could catch our plane back home to Addis.    
Castles of Gondar. Most of them were destroyed during the various militant activity that has taken place over the years
Fasilides Castle built by Emperor Fasilides
     
One of the castles in Gondar
Sandy and Ira in the lover's window. 
            



















Ira, Sandy, and Chris learning during the tour
I apologize for the lengthy entry, but these past five days were too riddled with ridiculousness, sadness, helplessness, discomfort and pure joy to leave out a single minute. As our last trip as a group in Ethiopia, it was a strong way to end. Stay tuned for more pictures!

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