- Email: [email protected]
IN THE MAIL
IN THE MAIL Letters to the Editor should be kept as brief as possible. Anonymity will be preserved, if requested.
Editor’s Note: The following are letters received by Denver AORN from Mrs. Mickey Parsons, R.N., who is stationed with her husband, Don, in Somalia. They are Peace Corps volunteers; and Miss Judy Stukenberg, R.N., who is stationed in Kishine, Japan. I t is printed as part of a series of accounts of AORN members stationed outside the United States.
TWOweeks have passed since our journey out into civilization to Nairobi for a Peace Corps regional medical conference. The environmental change was drastic. We were like Ma and Pa Kettle in the big city, marveling at the modern architecture, paved streets and sidewalks, intriguing shop windows, safe water from the tap, to say nothing of the abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables. The cool climate was refreshing, though unanticipated in our choice of clothing. Recent rains accounted for the flourishing countryside. The great Rift Valley was a truly magnificent sight. Nairobi’s European facade is in no way representative of Africa, but is comparable to an oasis in the desert. It has become the tourist capital of the area, totally commercialized to the point where one must search for elements of traditional culture. Curio shops, stuffed with mass-produced artifacts are eager to offer every customer a ten percent discount. Skins are a popular item with visitors but must be carefully selected. Friends of ours
April 1970
werg raving about the purchase of a kendel hide, only to find out later that this is an obscure word meaning calf. Fortunately, they were able to exchange this skin for an authentic gazelle by playing dumb and explaining that the color was not satisfactory. ( I wonder how many people are proudly displaying kendel skins.) We spent one afternoon darting about the Nairobi game park in a Land-Rover. Cameras clicked furiously as we came upon giraffe, zebra, warthogs, gazelles, antelope, ostrich and a variety of birds. The lions, when finally discovered, couldn’t have cared less about our presence. (Such behavior hardly befits a king.) Our encounter with a herd of African buffalo was quite a different matter. A huge bull took a dislike to us as we edged away from the herd. He charged from the rear. I glanced over my shoulder and without a word, quickly made for the front seat as a scant two feet separated horns from vehicle. The chase ended as abruptly as it had begun. We often wondered about the fate of two occupants of a Volkswagen, who had, perhaps foolishly, followed us into the herd and who were left stranded in the wake of our departure. The pursuing bull was twice the size of their car. The contacts with other physicians and the few wives in attendance were indeed pleasur-
169
able. Experiences in respective posts differ retired to a very lovely verdant to watch the extensively, depending to a great extent on the world pass them, and it has. The Kikuyu and existing health programs and government Wakamba and Luo farmers, merchants and medical services. Many anecdotes were ex- businessmen are gradually replacing the changed as each of us recalled unforgettable Asians in Kenya, even more rapidly now with contacts with African culture and environment. the recent Indian exodus, and constitute a We left with ambivalent feelings, for, while large and respectable, reasonably well-eduSomalia presents a unique cultural experience, cated and healthy middle class. progress in any area is almost imperceptible. While bussing from Nairobi to Arusha, we It would be somewhat more rewarding to passed through the middle of Masai territory work in a country where health has some and, from time to time, shared seats with priority, and the wall surrounding the minis- Masai. The men are tall, lithe, barefoot, spear tries is a bit less dense. toting, somber individuals. Their spears are Equipped with memories and, hopefully, taller than they, and the category of warrior is many slides, we embarked on the next leg of indicated by the length of the blade. Some of our East African journey; a two day bus ride the moran carry six foot spears with five foot from Nairobi to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, blades. They wear loosefitting, rust colored traversing the Masai reserves in Southern (from the soil) togas or drapes which reveal that underneath a Masai wears only a leather Kenya and Northern Tanzania. The Masai moran (senior warrior) is a knife-belt. They are gloriously decorated with amulets, vanishing species in Africa, like so many other African wild creatures. He is just as large-holed multiple pierced ears, dangling surely being driven to the status of historical varieties of loops and plugs, bobbed, braided footnotes in future anthropological treatises or clubbed hair, thickly tinted with ochre, on East Africa, as is the American bison or which covers most of their bodies and the whooping crane. It all relates to adaptabil- deposits on the bus seats. They carry simple ity of the species to the “modernization” of gourds containing the mixture of milk and ancient lands. cow’s blood which constitutes their diet. In contrast to the men, the women are In Kenya, modernization has occurred in the past 30 years, and has been baptized with voluble, sparkling and coy, freely nursing blood, both black and white, on several oc- their babies and sporting large loops of beads casions. The Kikuyu and other Kenyan tribes in their ears and around their necks. They who fought in the North African and Asian have not been left entirely untouched, since theatres of the Second World War, learned a they request shillingi for posing for photogragood deal from their white counterparts and phers, but their way of life is centuries old returned to East Africa with a deep grudge, and disappearing. With the increasing populatempered with experience and savvy in tion pressures in East Africa, the Masai are methods of Guerilla warfare. Thus arose the now faced with a government ultimatum, to Mau Mau and the horrors of East Africa in the either develop their land or lose it; and early 50’s. Curiously, the tribe with the eventually they will lose it. Their population greatest heritage in warfare ethics, the Masai, has dwindled in recent years, for uncertain refused to leave their reserves in Southern reasons, but probably related to the high Kenya and what was then Northern Tangan- incidence of syphilis and other infectious yika. If they were to be refused their diseases combined with the intangible factors traditional ways of life, they would take no of enforced restraint on a way of life which part in the white man’s wars. Thus they excludes the Masai niche from the East
170
AORN Journal
African ecological balance. I’m sure that our children will read about the Masai, but never see a representative of this cultural cul de sac. We spent one night at the Marangu Lodge nestled in the foothills of Mt. Kilimanjaro. The bus ride from Moshi to the lodge reminded one of that childrens’ story, “The Little Engine That Could,” as midst choruses of native music from fellow passengers, we inched our way up the mountain. Our arrival caused a bit of a stir, for riding the local transport is considered by some to be a brand of eccentricity. The majestic, snow-capped peaks were visible from our cabin window. Just at sunset, every cloud lifted, revealing the entire mountaintop in all its splendor. We understand this to be a rare occurrence during this time of the year. The climb takes a total of five days, not budgeted in our schedule, so we had to be content with a hike to the 5000 foot level where one can meditate in the shadows of a picturesque waterfall. A brief stopover in Dar es Salaam was punctuated with wanderings through curio shops, numerous visits to a local ice cream parlor and attendance at a live production of “Arsenic and Old Lace.” The latter was a meager attempt to fill the void of cultural opportunities while living in Mogadishu. Next stop, Chisimaio, via Somali Airlines’ one international flight. I wasn’t surprised at landing on a dirt runway, but the one room airport, housing only customs officials and no other facilities was a bit distressing, especially when they chose to examine our luggage with a fine-tooth comb. For the better part of a week we visited volunteers in the area, catching up on the latest developments and touring livestock and agricultural projects, all official business, of course. Reports indicating an abundance of game prompted a search through the bush by Land Rover, but alas, our finds consisted merely of
April 1970
fresh lion tracks and a pair of kudoo horns, presumably attached, rapidly disappearing into the tall growth. As we widen our horizons, it becomes more difficult to select those experiences which will prove most interesting to our audience. This account has already surpassed its intended length. Perhaps the answer is simply to communicate more often. More next month. Mickey Parsons It has been a month now since I arrived in Japan, and so far I’m enjoying it. Chris and I are both working in the OR at the 106th Hospital, which is in Kishine. Kishine is located within Yokohama, only a half hour train ride from Tokyo, and close to many resort areas. Mt. Fuji and its national park is lvz hours away b y train. My second weekend here was spent at this area, which has spectacular scenery with its mountains and lakes. The Japanese hotels are beautiful and this area was great for doing Christmas shopping. Last weekend was spent in Tokyo, shopping, sightseeing and night-clubbing. Tokyo is a great city, but very costly in the main areas, such as the Ginza. The statement that Japan is cheap is no longer true. The entertainment and food is very expensive. Trains, cabs and some shopping are still inexpensive. Chris and I live in the BOQ’s on post and each have two rooms, which are fairly nice. Kitchen facilities are very limited, so we eat all our meals at the Officers’ Club or the Mess Hall. We hope to move off the post by spring, but now during the winter the Japanese apartments and houses are very cold. There is no central heating. Each room is heated by a kerosene heater. The apartments are barely large enough for one person and very expensive, so we hope to find a house. So far we haven’t needed a car, because of all the trains and cabs. The traffic here is unbelievable. The Japanese drive like maniacs
171
and don’t seem to have any traffic laws. The cab drivers are wild and get into some of the worst jams, One has many near heart attacks with each ride as the streets are extremely narrow, and they play chicken constantly. Large American cars don’t fit in here. I still can’t believe how Westernized this country is, from its TV shows to its huge department stores. Language is the only barrier. The weather so far has been very mild-in the 60’s most days. We wear coats only at night. So far we haven’t been extremely busy in the OR. Most of our patients are casualties from Viet Nam with injuries one wouldn’t believe. The majority are multiple bullet wounds and massive infections. We also have
HEY THERE-NURSE! Hey there, Nurse
a lot of neuro and orthopedic. We have six operating rooms and usually run four. We’re on call once a week and every sixth weekend, which isn’t bad. There are very few emergencies. Most of the Doctors are very nice to work with and very willing to teach. It’s quite a casual environment. The bed capacity at Kishine has been lowered from 1000 to 550. The helicopters bring patients in and out all day long and land just outside our windows. We’ve already gotten use to the noise. We hope to try Japanese skiing within the next month or two. We’ll have to take several days and go by train because the good areas are further away. A Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all! JUDY
Assured am I that wires and data Will tell the doctor what’s the matter,
I read some lines that said today1
And he in turn with plug in wall
You’ll soon phase out, you’re on your way To copping out. You refuse to stay, take my pulse, rub m y back
Will diagnose and treat it all.
And make u p for the things I lack, What’s it all about? These lines go on with rushing force To say you’ll do this thing from choice, From choice of things instead of me With all m y needs you fail to see. The lines record, oh quite precisely, How scientific means so nicely Will replace in all its parts The things you do in nursing arts.
172
STUKENRERC
But as I read and ponder this And watch you run, you busy Miss, M y mind-it almost goes berserk Supposing scientific ways won’t work, That through it all I may feel worse And you won’t be there-wait
. . hey there. . ,
Nurse! Dorothy Eastham, R.N. ITHIS I BELIEVE
. . . THAT
NURSES MAY
BECOME EXTINCT, Leland R. Bennett, Nursing Outlook, January 1970.
AORN Journal
Editor’s Note: The following are letters received by Denver AORN from Mrs. Mickey Parsons, R.N., who is stationed with her husband, Don, in Somalia. They are Peace Corps volunteers; and Miss Judy Stukenberg, R.N., who is stationed in Kishine, Japan. I t is printed as part of a series of accounts of AORN members stationed outside the United States.
TWOweeks have passed since our journey out into civilization to Nairobi for a Peace Corps regional medical conference. The environmental change was drastic. We were like Ma and Pa Kettle in the big city, marveling at the modern architecture, paved streets and sidewalks, intriguing shop windows, safe water from the tap, to say nothing of the abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables. The cool climate was refreshing, though unanticipated in our choice of clothing. Recent rains accounted for the flourishing countryside. The great Rift Valley was a truly magnificent sight. Nairobi’s European facade is in no way representative of Africa, but is comparable to an oasis in the desert. It has become the tourist capital of the area, totally commercialized to the point where one must search for elements of traditional culture. Curio shops, stuffed with mass-produced artifacts are eager to offer every customer a ten percent discount. Skins are a popular item with visitors but must be carefully selected. Friends of ours
April 1970
werg raving about the purchase of a kendel hide, only to find out later that this is an obscure word meaning calf. Fortunately, they were able to exchange this skin for an authentic gazelle by playing dumb and explaining that the color was not satisfactory. ( I wonder how many people are proudly displaying kendel skins.) We spent one afternoon darting about the Nairobi game park in a Land-Rover. Cameras clicked furiously as we came upon giraffe, zebra, warthogs, gazelles, antelope, ostrich and a variety of birds. The lions, when finally discovered, couldn’t have cared less about our presence. (Such behavior hardly befits a king.) Our encounter with a herd of African buffalo was quite a different matter. A huge bull took a dislike to us as we edged away from the herd. He charged from the rear. I glanced over my shoulder and without a word, quickly made for the front seat as a scant two feet separated horns from vehicle. The chase ended as abruptly as it had begun. We often wondered about the fate of two occupants of a Volkswagen, who had, perhaps foolishly, followed us into the herd and who were left stranded in the wake of our departure. The pursuing bull was twice the size of their car. The contacts with other physicians and the few wives in attendance were indeed pleasur-
169
able. Experiences in respective posts differ retired to a very lovely verdant to watch the extensively, depending to a great extent on the world pass them, and it has. The Kikuyu and existing health programs and government Wakamba and Luo farmers, merchants and medical services. Many anecdotes were ex- businessmen are gradually replacing the changed as each of us recalled unforgettable Asians in Kenya, even more rapidly now with contacts with African culture and environment. the recent Indian exodus, and constitute a We left with ambivalent feelings, for, while large and respectable, reasonably well-eduSomalia presents a unique cultural experience, cated and healthy middle class. progress in any area is almost imperceptible. While bussing from Nairobi to Arusha, we It would be somewhat more rewarding to passed through the middle of Masai territory work in a country where health has some and, from time to time, shared seats with priority, and the wall surrounding the minis- Masai. The men are tall, lithe, barefoot, spear tries is a bit less dense. toting, somber individuals. Their spears are Equipped with memories and, hopefully, taller than they, and the category of warrior is many slides, we embarked on the next leg of indicated by the length of the blade. Some of our East African journey; a two day bus ride the moran carry six foot spears with five foot from Nairobi to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, blades. They wear loosefitting, rust colored traversing the Masai reserves in Southern (from the soil) togas or drapes which reveal that underneath a Masai wears only a leather Kenya and Northern Tanzania. The Masai moran (senior warrior) is a knife-belt. They are gloriously decorated with amulets, vanishing species in Africa, like so many other African wild creatures. He is just as large-holed multiple pierced ears, dangling surely being driven to the status of historical varieties of loops and plugs, bobbed, braided footnotes in future anthropological treatises or clubbed hair, thickly tinted with ochre, on East Africa, as is the American bison or which covers most of their bodies and the whooping crane. It all relates to adaptabil- deposits on the bus seats. They carry simple ity of the species to the “modernization” of gourds containing the mixture of milk and ancient lands. cow’s blood which constitutes their diet. In contrast to the men, the women are In Kenya, modernization has occurred in the past 30 years, and has been baptized with voluble, sparkling and coy, freely nursing blood, both black and white, on several oc- their babies and sporting large loops of beads casions. The Kikuyu and other Kenyan tribes in their ears and around their necks. They who fought in the North African and Asian have not been left entirely untouched, since theatres of the Second World War, learned a they request shillingi for posing for photogragood deal from their white counterparts and phers, but their way of life is centuries old returned to East Africa with a deep grudge, and disappearing. With the increasing populatempered with experience and savvy in tion pressures in East Africa, the Masai are methods of Guerilla warfare. Thus arose the now faced with a government ultimatum, to Mau Mau and the horrors of East Africa in the either develop their land or lose it; and early 50’s. Curiously, the tribe with the eventually they will lose it. Their population greatest heritage in warfare ethics, the Masai, has dwindled in recent years, for uncertain refused to leave their reserves in Southern reasons, but probably related to the high Kenya and what was then Northern Tangan- incidence of syphilis and other infectious yika. If they were to be refused their diseases combined with the intangible factors traditional ways of life, they would take no of enforced restraint on a way of life which part in the white man’s wars. Thus they excludes the Masai niche from the East
170
AORN Journal
African ecological balance. I’m sure that our children will read about the Masai, but never see a representative of this cultural cul de sac. We spent one night at the Marangu Lodge nestled in the foothills of Mt. Kilimanjaro. The bus ride from Moshi to the lodge reminded one of that childrens’ story, “The Little Engine That Could,” as midst choruses of native music from fellow passengers, we inched our way up the mountain. Our arrival caused a bit of a stir, for riding the local transport is considered by some to be a brand of eccentricity. The majestic, snow-capped peaks were visible from our cabin window. Just at sunset, every cloud lifted, revealing the entire mountaintop in all its splendor. We understand this to be a rare occurrence during this time of the year. The climb takes a total of five days, not budgeted in our schedule, so we had to be content with a hike to the 5000 foot level where one can meditate in the shadows of a picturesque waterfall. A brief stopover in Dar es Salaam was punctuated with wanderings through curio shops, numerous visits to a local ice cream parlor and attendance at a live production of “Arsenic and Old Lace.” The latter was a meager attempt to fill the void of cultural opportunities while living in Mogadishu. Next stop, Chisimaio, via Somali Airlines’ one international flight. I wasn’t surprised at landing on a dirt runway, but the one room airport, housing only customs officials and no other facilities was a bit distressing, especially when they chose to examine our luggage with a fine-tooth comb. For the better part of a week we visited volunteers in the area, catching up on the latest developments and touring livestock and agricultural projects, all official business, of course. Reports indicating an abundance of game prompted a search through the bush by Land Rover, but alas, our finds consisted merely of
April 1970
fresh lion tracks and a pair of kudoo horns, presumably attached, rapidly disappearing into the tall growth. As we widen our horizons, it becomes more difficult to select those experiences which will prove most interesting to our audience. This account has already surpassed its intended length. Perhaps the answer is simply to communicate more often. More next month. Mickey Parsons It has been a month now since I arrived in Japan, and so far I’m enjoying it. Chris and I are both working in the OR at the 106th Hospital, which is in Kishine. Kishine is located within Yokohama, only a half hour train ride from Tokyo, and close to many resort areas. Mt. Fuji and its national park is lvz hours away b y train. My second weekend here was spent at this area, which has spectacular scenery with its mountains and lakes. The Japanese hotels are beautiful and this area was great for doing Christmas shopping. Last weekend was spent in Tokyo, shopping, sightseeing and night-clubbing. Tokyo is a great city, but very costly in the main areas, such as the Ginza. The statement that Japan is cheap is no longer true. The entertainment and food is very expensive. Trains, cabs and some shopping are still inexpensive. Chris and I live in the BOQ’s on post and each have two rooms, which are fairly nice. Kitchen facilities are very limited, so we eat all our meals at the Officers’ Club or the Mess Hall. We hope to move off the post by spring, but now during the winter the Japanese apartments and houses are very cold. There is no central heating. Each room is heated by a kerosene heater. The apartments are barely large enough for one person and very expensive, so we hope to find a house. So far we haven’t needed a car, because of all the trains and cabs. The traffic here is unbelievable. The Japanese drive like maniacs
171
and don’t seem to have any traffic laws. The cab drivers are wild and get into some of the worst jams, One has many near heart attacks with each ride as the streets are extremely narrow, and they play chicken constantly. Large American cars don’t fit in here. I still can’t believe how Westernized this country is, from its TV shows to its huge department stores. Language is the only barrier. The weather so far has been very mild-in the 60’s most days. We wear coats only at night. So far we haven’t been extremely busy in the OR. Most of our patients are casualties from Viet Nam with injuries one wouldn’t believe. The majority are multiple bullet wounds and massive infections. We also have
HEY THERE-NURSE! Hey there, Nurse
a lot of neuro and orthopedic. We have six operating rooms and usually run four. We’re on call once a week and every sixth weekend, which isn’t bad. There are very few emergencies. Most of the Doctors are very nice to work with and very willing to teach. It’s quite a casual environment. The bed capacity at Kishine has been lowered from 1000 to 550. The helicopters bring patients in and out all day long and land just outside our windows. We’ve already gotten use to the noise. We hope to try Japanese skiing within the next month or two. We’ll have to take several days and go by train because the good areas are further away. A Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all! JUDY
Assured am I that wires and data Will tell the doctor what’s the matter,
I read some lines that said today1
And he in turn with plug in wall
You’ll soon phase out, you’re on your way To copping out. You refuse to stay, take my pulse, rub m y back
Will diagnose and treat it all.
And make u p for the things I lack, What’s it all about? These lines go on with rushing force To say you’ll do this thing from choice, From choice of things instead of me With all m y needs you fail to see. The lines record, oh quite precisely, How scientific means so nicely Will replace in all its parts The things you do in nursing arts.
172
STUKENRERC
But as I read and ponder this And watch you run, you busy Miss, M y mind-it almost goes berserk Supposing scientific ways won’t work, That through it all I may feel worse And you won’t be there-wait
. . hey there. . ,
Nurse! Dorothy Eastham, R.N. ITHIS I BELIEVE
. . . THAT
NURSES MAY
BECOME EXTINCT, Leland R. Bennett, Nursing Outlook, January 1970.
AORN Journal