When I was in Luanda, one of the things I needed to do was price the cost of sleeping in a hospital room. So, without even thinking it over, my driver took me to a public hospital. I went in through some large doors and walked down through the corridors before I approached a “guard” sitting in a chair. I tried speaking with her. Twice. She didn’t look at me. She was cross-eyed and had flies buzzing around her. The moment struck me as a scene out of a horror movie. I quickly walked by her into the corridors, trying to find someone I could speak with. It was a beautiful hospital, although I’m sure the medical care wasn’t quite up to par with the care of the facility. I finally found a couple doctors who were looking at me strangely, so I decided to speak with them. One spoke some English, the other didn’t. So I spoke, and the one that spoke English translated. Eventually after much discussion, I got the answer I needed and headed back the other way – the cost of a hospital room and all service was free. This time the creepy guard stopped me as I was heading out the door. She made it clear I couldn’t go out that way. So I began heading in the other direction. But wait, my driver was right outside. If I don’t go that way, I’m going to have to walk around the whole damn hospital. So I turn back around, and fruitlessly try explaining to the guard… but my “insert steering wheel motions” was right outside, pointing to the doors that I came in. Uh uh. You can’t go. So then I pleaded. And I got somewhere. She poked here head out the doors and motioned for me to go, quickly. Soo I snuck out of the hospital, and ran down to where my driver was. Apparently those doors were not to be used. Who knew.
Speaking of hospitals, I didn’t escape Africa without some minor issues. I woke up a few days after arrival with a swollen eye, which I came to realize was an eye infection. I’m not sure what caused it; whether it was simply the air filled with pathogens or the water from the hotel. I began pouring bottled water over each of my eyes every night before I went to bed. In a couple days my infection was no more. Inevitably, I also had some stomach issues. I tempted fate one night by eating from the buffet but unfortunately it didn’t go very well. My skin, the whole time in Africa, suffered. I have eczema as it is, and it’s bad enough; but I was getting hives everywhere, including on my face. It took my face alone a week to recover (once I got home) from the pollution buildup that was causing me to break out. Also, the most seasoned surveyor on my team who was also in Africa was just medi-evaced to Paris – they never found out what the cause was, but he woke up one day paralyzed from the waist down, in the middle of a country with very limited health care. Very scary. He is now back in the office and is just about fully recovered, thank goodness. But it’s just one reminder of the issues we face as surveyors. Just goes to show how important it is to be strong and fearless, as much as possible – because when a situation arises, the worst thing to do would be to panic.
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