Just call me Edward Scissorhands!

Ooopps!! So, I may have overcompensated a little in the safety department. When I first starting telling people I was going to Africa all people could do talk about super scary things. Evidently I lost some perspective.... forgot I wasn't going into Guerrila warfare and I'm actually going into the PEACE corps...

These are all the absurd things I found while doing some lite packing today Don't worry, I'm not taking anything but I kitchen knives.

So Important for My Sanity!

Naturally, I have procrastinated and waited till the last minute to post my address. I would LOVE for everyone and anyone to send me letters as soon as possible so that I may possibly get some mail in the first few months. Letters take at least 2-3 weeks to arrive, and packages take longer. Make sure you include "Air Mail" and "Par Avion" on the envelopes, and if you send packages make sure you write bible verses or such phrases as "the wrathful eyes of god are watching you." Not kidding; evidently it cuts down on sticky fingered customs agents.

Zikomo!! (that means "thanks.") Aren't you impressed with my language skills? You should be.

Katie Schneider PCT

Peace Corps

P. O. Box 208

Lilongwe, Malawi

Packing PANIC!

Here is my suggested packing list... with commentary. I would appreciate suggestions. I feel like I may be getting in over my head here.

General Clothing

• One set long underwear (will leggings work? what is long underwear? I'm pretty sure this doesn't exist in georgia)

• Lightweight,all-weatherjacket (again, what does this mean? it sounds pretty subjective to me)

• Hooded sweatshirt or fleece

• Knit hat and gloves (I really thought I was going to be near the equator, this is making me nervous)

• Sleeveless dresses and shirts (note that Volunteer teachers cannot wear these in the classroom)

• Swimsuit (one piece); very sturdy (where does one find this in february?)

• Bandannas or handkerchiefs

• Sun hat (baseball cap or straw hat) (can't wait to show up in philly in my straw hat)

• Good-qualityraincoat (like an expensive one, or like the awesome kind firefighters wear?)

• Heavy-duty poncho and quality umbrella (this seems redundant to me)

• Durable, easy-to-washpants (seriously, is this anything but silk pants, aren't all pants easy to wash?)

• Shorts and other clothes like drawstring pajama pants for lounging around (doctor’s scrubs are ideal) (this is totally get)

• Women can and do wear trousers for traveling and in the cities (please define "trouser")

• Cotton slips (waist to knee and waist to ankle) (I just want to know why)

• Men do not need full suit, just a tie and a button-down shirt for special occasions

• Very durable, practical clothes (not nice, dressy clothes)

• Some nicer clothes for in town (dancing, restaurants) (this appears to be contradictory, leading to more confusion)

• Lots of underwear, bras, socks

• Heavy-dutysportsbra (is there a Light-duty sportsbra?)

• Belt

• Money belt (haha!)

• shorts (longer, knee-length shorts for women) for biking

• Sturdy work gloves (if you garden)

Overall advice: do not bring a lot. Just three to four outfits for staging and beginning of training. You can find just about everything in the markets.

Shoes

Durable shoes are an essential investment

• Teva or Chaco sandals

• Sneakers and/or hiking boots (two pairs) (Boots are handy for rainy season) (rainboots?)

• Shoes (close-toed and good to stand in all day; for Volunteer teachers)

• House shoes (slippers); you can get flip-flops in Malawi

• Dress shoes (this is insanely broad)

Kitchen

• Heavy-duty non-stick frying pan (could I check this??)

• Good knives (can't wait to try and take these on the plane)

• Vegetable peeler (could this be used as a weapon?)

• Thermos (does my ninja turtle one count?)

• French press (if you appreciate good coffee)

• Kitchen towels

• Ziplocbags (surplus) (again, very subjective, 20? 200?)

• Plastic containers (e.g., Tupperware)

• Mess kit cooking set

• Set of silverware

• Send foodstuff to yourself before leaving: kool-aid packets, cheese powder packets, power bars, granola bars, soup mixes, gravy mixes, chocolate, etc. (WHAT is a cheese powder pack, and how have I never heard of it?!?!)

Miscellaneous

• Sturdy water bottle (e.g., Nalgene)

• Lightweight, travel, waterproof tent w/ground cloth

• Leatherman/SwissArmyknife

• Compact sleeping bag for cold weather

• Indiglowatch

• Bungee cords or backpack straps

• Chair that folds out into sleeping mat (e.g., Crazy Creek or LL Bean)

• Flashlight or headlamp with extra bulbs

• Short wave radio

• Solar-powered rechargeable batteries with recharger

• Duct tape

• Scissors

• Good envelopes

• Elmer’s glue (I will really need an explanation to justify hauling Elmer's across the globe)

• Good dictionary (English, Chichewa, need more info!)

•U.S. stamps (so you can send letters home with travelers)

•Lonely Planet Guide to Malawi

• Camera(35mmpoint-and-shoot)

•Field guide for flora and fauna of sub-Saharan Africa

•Seeds for herbs and vegetables (am I going to be tackled at customs for this?)

• Battery-powered alarm clock

•Double size, flat sheets and a couple of towels

• Sewing kit

• Sunglasses

•Personal money (you can keep it in the safe at the Peace Corps office) (currency)

•Games (Scrabble, cards, chess, Frisbee, etc.)

•Walkman and variety of tapes (Discman uses much more battery power) (are these seriously still made?)

•Musical instrument (harmonica, guitar, etc.)

• A few novels (to swap after reading)

•Hobby materials like sketching pads and pencils

• Luggage (should be tough, lightweight, lockable, and easy to carry)

• Hiking backpacks without frames are practical

update

I'm taking these little "technicolor goggles" as I like to refer to them, and going on a little adventure... to MALAWI! For two years.

HAHA!

Ok, clearly I've not been stelar with my blogging over the past... two years. However, now I have my very own real excuse to blog, and people may even want to read it!

Please see photo as expression of my stress level. No joke.

I'm at t-minus 29 more days until I leave. That just isn't a very long time. I like to think that I've been super organized and prepared; doing things like selling my car, moving out of my perfect apartment, finding a foster home for my cat, quitting my job(s), getting rid of all my earthly possessions; piece of cake! Now its time for very serious, and non-fun things like packing, learning Chichewa, and saying good bye to everyone and everywhere I love.

Language is kicking my ass, and I've started calling it "chiche-won't" to myself because I won't learn it. I'm convinced I'm going to be the crazy white American girl/village idiot who just gesticulates wildly and makes strange moaning noises around food. Please send positive and encouraging language vibes my way.

Otherwise, I'm packing, sort of. I own a multi-tool, a backpacking backpack, some clothes that MIGHT work, and a packing list. Oh and 4 jumbo vacuum seal bags. I'm optimistic that I can manage to fit everything I own into two 4olbs bags. Please send positive and encouraging packing vibes my way as well.

In the meantime, to deal with the above stressors I am attempting to manage my sanity in a spectrum of ways ranging from super healthy to absurdly unhealthy. For instance, to cope with stress yesterday I purchased a four cup bag of shredded extra sharp cheese and just ate it straight out of the bag. I wonder if this is how I'll deal with stress in Africa? Certainly not with cheese; I can't believe I'll start stress eating yams.

Don't worry. At some point I will actually have substance to these posts. I'm going to rock your world with all the crazy awesome, insightful, deep posts. Just you wait.

Warning

Previous Posts Contain Nothing Concerning my Trip to Africa. They were Created from Boredom and My Own Nonsensical Rambling. Read at Your Own Risk.

Eating, Living, Breathing the Madness

So everyone wants to know about my personal conditions down in Haiti; what was that typical day like?

The Food

Gross: by no means was I expecting a feast to be laid out for me, but I wasn't anywhere close to prepared for the spread I was provided.
Breakfast: Well I never actually got to eat breakfast since it was almost always served when I was right in the middle of tearing my hair out trying to figure out how to give my 16 patients their 20 antibiotics in less than 30 minutes with one EMT and 2 med students at my disposal. But was, I often observed, a delightful chicken noodle soup complete with two different kinds of noodles, canned tuna fish, bananas, and Vienna sausages floating on top. Somehow the dry, stale granola bar didn't seem so bad.

Lunch: By far the most superior of the meals, when you could get it, consisted of rice and beans, and a meat. No fresh vegetables, ever, for 17 days straight.

Dinner: The most inconsistent meal of the day. One could expect anything from "spaghetti" (noodles and ketchup), to a bowl of meat, to my personal favorite a soup made with tomato sauce, sardines, and cubed up canned spam. Not that I really got to indulge in thesedelectable treats. I had a talent for arriving in the kitchen just in time to see the final remains get scooped onto someone elses's plate. Luckily, I can forage for food with the best of them. So from our little pantry I created macaroni and cheese from noodles and cannedArabic processed cheese. I made fried egg sandwiches, and pastas. Just try to imagine me making a fried egg with a spatula the size of my face in an iron pan large enough for me to sit in. Comical.

Sleeping

I like to think I got the best spot in the place. The living quarters were in the actual clinic on the second floor. There the room were set up like dormitories. We had to share a bed with someone from night shift, and thankfully my bed partner had the foresight to steal the closet the first night. This was beneficial for several reasons.
1. Perfect means to block out the unreal amounts of snoring these people emitted.
2. You could essentially have your own room with the ability to close the door and read or change without having to schlep to the bathrooms.
3. I doubled as a storage closet for all the food I foraged. I slept with a pineapple for three nights straight waiting for it to ripen.

Free Time

There was none. The few hours I managed to escape I went into Haiti to "help" set up a water purification system in one of the refugee camps. Ask me later if you care to here about this fiasco.

A few nights when I wasn't bone tired and was able to muster up enough socializing steam to carry me out for beers on the roof or sitting in the dirt outside the convenient store. Not my most glamorous moments considering I brought nothing but scrubs to wear.

Hygiene

Ha! I did mange a shower occasionally, which wasn't terriably enjoyable considering the hot water wasn't super reliable. I shared the bathroom with at least 12-14 other people, so I would have to get up about an hour before I needed to be downstairs and working if I wanted a chance at the bathroom.

A Beautiful Nightmare

I went to Haiti, saved some lives, and found out a whole hell of a lot about myself that I didn't realize. When you are immersed in a culture so alien from your own it lays bare all the asinine little things that plague your life; you figure out what really is important. And you find out how powerful you are and all the other human spirits are that swirl around you every single day.

I received my phone call from Sherri late on a Tuesday night after weeks of avoiding the media hype surrounding the earthquake in Haiti. I felt helpless and unused when I saw pictures of people who I felt I could tangibly make their lives better. Sherri asked me if I could be ready to leave the country by 6am Friday evening; I didn't give it a second thought. Well, that is until I spoke to my mother, who scared the pants off of me with her frantic concerns of rabid bats, white slave trade (what!!?!), and bed bugs.

Despite these warnings I found myself rushing off to take my test I had put my life on hold for several days sooner than I had planned. I found myself packing my bag, filling my malaria medicine prescription and brushing up on my adult disaster relief nursing skills, which I had roughly a 0% knowledge base. I found myself realizing hours before I left that I had forgotten to tell anyone but my parents and my bosses that I was leaving. The feeling of nauseous, smothering, overwhelming fear of the unknown was always first and foremost in my mind.

"What am I thinking, I don't know a thing about adults, or emergency medicine, or rabid bats"

And yet, I got off the plane in Santo Domingo with all the faux zeal and confidence I could muster. My little team of three nurses met and sped off in a rickety little taxi to the Carey House Hotel; a quaint little B&B where the front desk boy will be more than happy to fetch you the list of local restaurant numbers that are held down by his hand gun/paper weight. We spent our first night in Latin America eating Chinese food out of cut up water bottles and homemade utensils.

The next morning our one contact in the DR agreed to take us to the local bus station as long as we handed over his coveted Wal-Mart brand tropical trail mix we were told to bring with us. We were herded off to the bus station and placed on the bus bound to Jimani, which included such things as live chickens, pushy sandwich peddlers, and some very lively Latin music. It was during this bus ride that I was finally able to accept my growing panic for what I was about to face and talk it through with my fellow nurse, Sharon. She assured me that even NICU nurse would be more than capable of handling what lay ahead.

Our welcome to The Buen Samaritan Clinic was warmer than any of us expected. I suppose they had hoped we were coming but had resigned themselves to the possibility that they may just have work without the nurses. My first impression of the clinic was positive; people seemed busy, but in control, and distracted, but enjoying themselves. But in the office I received my first really bad news. They were going to place me on day shift, but Sharon and Ann, my only support system, were to work on night shift. For the first time, of many, I told myself I wasn't here to make friends, but to work hard, and to do the very best I possibly could. So I threw my bag down, unpacked my meager nursing gear (most of which I lost before an hour passed) and headed down the stairs for my "orientation." The orientation facade shattered 30 seconds later when a patient came in complaining of dizziness and fainting. I found myself being asked to get "orthos"; and what might those be, I wondered to myself. And could I please get a CBC and Chem 10's? The doctor might as well be speaking Greek at this point. hmmmm... I wonder how this lady would feel if I pricked her heel like my NICU babies to get lab work? Oh there is a lab that will draw blood for you? Excellent!! Oh, but they only speak Spanish, so you'll have to find someone who can interpret for you. WEll CRAP. Flash forward 8 hours of this crazy "chasing my own tail nursing," and that pretty much summed up day one for me.