“Visiting Malawi for the first time I was unsure what to expect,” wrote Mike Ferris, Treasurer and Board Member for the Malawi Project. It was his first trip to Malawi. “Because of my hospital background I had some expectations of what hospitals in Malawi would be like, but I was about to find out they were a long, long way from reality.”
“We left the capital city going south. The landscape was breathtaking, and I could hardly wait to experience it all. As we entered the trading center the streets were lined with people selling their wares. I could hardly believe there could be so many people in such a small area. Turning off the main road we headed down a bumpy, partially paved road into the gated entrance to the hospital. As we pulled up in front of the hospital it was crowed with people sitting around outside waiting to be seen by a medical person. What hit me almost immediately was the smell. It was like rotting flesh and urine, and it seemed to follow us all along the hallway. ‘Oh God,’ I pleaded silently, ‘please do not let me get sick over here, so far from home. How could there be a place like this in such a beautiful country of such beautiful people?’
“We went into the kitchen, and found there was only one spigot for cooking water, and rinsing hands for food preparation. There were only two cooks, and they were busy preparing meals that would be carried into the main hospital in buckets transported in old wheelchairs. By no means was this kitchen sanitary by western standards, and it was very clear we were not in a western hospital.”
“Back in the states, just before leaving for Africa, we were preparing for our accreditation audit at my hospital. One of the rules relative to the storage of medical supplies is that nothing can be stacked nearer than 18 inches from the ceiling. It must be neat and orderly, with everything plainly labeled. But, as we entered the central stores I found myself in a totally different world. Due to the lack of funding, and adequate building materials this hospital’s central supply area resembled one big stack of boxes stacked as high as one can reach. It appeared to be in no certain order. I kept thinking, ‘How does one find anything in this mess?’
“As we walked to the main building I noticed the pot-hole laden driveway, and thought of those poor mothers coming in an ox cart or ambulance to give birth. They would be bounced all over the place. Again, the plight of poverty in Malawi was beyond imagination from the perspective of a westerner in this strange land.”
“Next, we reached the children’s ward. We were greeted by a friendly, warm, smiling charge nurse. As we talked she described the critical shortage of medications. They dilute their IV medications, a common practice across the land, by as much as 10 to 1. Most of the patients suffer from pneumonia, some with complications from HIV, and others with malaria and malnutrition.”
“Two of my favorite memories come for the children’s ward. The first was a young boy when I squatted down beside his bed. He had never seen a white person before. He reached out and took my hand. It seemed for a minute that he was saying, ‘I’m glad you are here. Thank you for visiting.’ He looked in wonderment at me. His little eyes sparkled as he took my hand. I remember how soft his hands were, yet I could feel each bone in his tiny fingers. Being careful not to squeeze too hard, I took his hand between my fingers and just held his hand for what seemed like the afternoon. I did not say a word, but we communicated a great deal.”
“The second moment was a young girl sitting on the floor, a complete no-no by western standards. But it was perfectly alright in this part of the world. She was suffering from dehydration and malnutrition due to the Cholera outbreak throughout the nation. I remember getting down by her and clapping every time she took a drink. The fluid in her cup as said tot be liquid nutrition. However, it resembled warm milk that had been left on the counter too long, and was beginning to curdle. Even the smell turned my stomach. But this was what she needed to drink to replenish herself. She had not been drinking that day. To my wonderment every time I clapped she took a sip, and it became a game to her. I was happy to play with her.”