what it really means to be a victim

Salutations!

Welp, its mid/late February already . . . and things have really started to look up for me. Within reason of course, haha it is still Mozambique.

I hit the ground running with the Nucleo Provincial do Combate ao HIV/Sida (the provincial organization in charge of all HIV programs in Zambezia), and within a two-week time span, have created a job description and work schedule, and been given productive things to do. At the moment we are digitizing the yearly plans budget proposals for all organizations in the province, regarding their programs that deal with HIV. From there, we will create a yearly plan and budget for the entire province. Good times.

With ICAP I have been working with other volunteers to create a template for a monthly report about our activities, both in the health centers with ICAP and in the communities with organizations/our own personal activities. Hopefully by the end of this week we will have a working draft that I can then translate into Portuguese and submit to the Maputo office for review and feedback. From there, we will see where things go . . .step by step is the best way to approach this.

Last week I had a great meeting with the head doctors at the Provincial Department of Health (DPS) and am trying to get a follow up one this week. Keep your fingers crossed that I can get that to happen!

Last week I went to one of the temporary camps where victims of the flooding in Zambezia province were relocated. I am going to attach some photos below, but honestly I don't know if they will do the experience justice. It was a very humbling and intense experience.

There are hundreds of tents set up throughout a large space on the outskirts of Mocuba and within each tent is a family (this can range from 3 people to 8 in some cases). In the camp that I visited, it is estimated that there are about 5,000 people. While there are pit latrines dug throughout the camp, I’m not sure if it is truly enough, and additionally noticed that there is no real place to take a bath in private. The ‘market’ in the center of the tent city, was selling dried fish, and some citrus fruit. . .not a big selection of goods. . but then again, no one in the camp has any money to buy anything.

There are two larger tents that are serving as a field hospital. In one tent, a makeshift maternity ward, the other is a basic triage tent, and then there is the mobile clinic that offers basic testing and consults. I asked how many women have given birth since the relocation has happened and it was reported that only one has. Also, the staff working there only has 12 reported pregnant women. Out of 5,000 people?? That's a tough statistic to believe.

Apparently there have been mosquito net distributions in the camps, but in my brief walk around I was not able to see any hung up inside tents, or outside drying in the sun. This has me worried about how many people are potentially being exposed to malaria, including children and pregnant women. And then if they do become infected, the lack of access to medication and proper health care in the temporary tents.

(one of the hospital tents) 

There was also one larger tent dedicated to the police force. I asked what the situation was like regarding personal safety, specifically for women and young girls. Knowing that during crisis situations females are more likely to suffer from abuse, sexual assaults and other issues. The doctors explained to me that the camp was set up in the same geographical manner as the neighborhoods would be. Making neighbors the same, etc. That's all well and good. . .but didn't really answer my question.

(people waiting to be registered, and for food distribution)

It was a very real smack in the face of just how intense this situation is. I also noted how un-involved the doctors and I-NGO workers were with the actual victims. We took a walk through the tents, and only my fellow volunteer and I greeted people, chatted with children and actually seemed concerned about the well being of the masses. The doctors who were showing us around never once looked at the victims, or really seemed to notice what they were surrounded by.

It was an even more interesting experience to then, later that afternoon, return to my apartment in the city (which by American standards is a shithole/crackden) where I have three rooms to myself, a bathroom with clean running water, a mosquito net, fan, computer etc. . . I felt like an asshole. For lack of better words. And last night, when it started pouring rain at 7pm, and hasn't stopped yet (its after noon now) all I could think about were those tents and how quickly I’m sure they flood. . Latrines overflowing. . . the walkways of dirt and mud turning into mini-rivers and breeding grounds for more mosquitos.

Depressing. Reality. Life.

The good with the bad. It is what it is. People are getting the help that they can, but it is just very interesting to see the response to a national tragedy, handled.

At the end of our day, we went to see what progress has been made to the bridge in Mocuba – this is part of the EN1 (national road) and without this bridge, all overland traffic to the northern provinces has basically been cut off. We were told another 15 days or so would be needed to complete the reparations. I’m guessing it will be more than that. . considering they have one backhoe/machine working on each side.

(the work on the bridge)

Okdokes. That's all for now. More updates to come.