I have the bad habit of putting too much trust in people and things a little too early. 2020 was my latest victim. 2020 didn't get a meet and greet. 2020 wasn't allowed to fail me. I couldn't afford it. Not after 2019 (That we don't talk about).
Before even meeting this year, I decided it'll be devoted to healing and inner peace. Fortunately, 2020 kicked off with the perfect opportunity to achieve exactly that. I was lucky to be part of Project Butterfly 2.0, our college's medical volunteering trip to Zanzibar, Tanzania. 6 days gave me so much to remember, so much to look forward to in medicine, and so little to regret. Not only was I granted the chance to see a part of the world we often turn a blind eye to, but I also had the chance to meet new people and, more interestingly, to re-meet people in a different setting. Almost 4 years into Medical School, I was ready to announce that I no longer find value in what I do and why I do it. I forgot how it felt to be passionate about it all. This journey succeeded in reminding me.
Day 1, Zanzibar: Spice Farm Tour
After several hours of delay and a very bumpy flight, we made it to the island of Zanzibar. That night was like a nightmare come true. The humidity was suffocating. The airport was a terrible title to the first chapter of this journey. Our welcome dinner tasted stale and it wasn't because it was but because we were too busy wondering how we'll manage 6 more days in this primitve sauna island. The hostel was a shock of its own. My first shower there gave me PTSD. I slept hoping the 17 thousand mosquitoes don't like caffeine tinted blood.
When our official first day started, the light shone and pronounced Zanzibar’s colors and we all silently agreed to let go of last night. The ratty hostel was suddenly homey and cozy. The heat we overcame with lighter clothing and the simple understanding that sweating is a normal physiological process. The "too formal" project manager from yesterday's introduction laughed at me when I called her "أستاذة". It just kept getting easier and more comfortable. Then there was the clinic. Beautiful Chaos is the right description. 85 patients treated in one day and it was all us. It didn't feel deep until it hit me that it was all us. 18 medical students and a devoted doctor. That was only the beginning of the day too
Day 2, Zanzibar: Clinic
By our second day, I already saw where this trip is going......into some very precious spot of my memory.
We woke up early for breakfast after sleeping like the babies we are. We put our scrubs on and got ready for another day of energy, sweat, and exposure to all kinds of bacteria and fungi. No mosquito bites reported yet but my ears experienced metaphorical bleeding for the first time in forever thanks to bad DJ choices on our ride to the clinic.
Registering patients doesn't really sound like an interesting job and yet this day was among the most fascinating. Looking at them as they kept coming all day long, walking, some barefoot, from all around the small rural village because they knew we were here today to help was a scene I can't seem to let go of. We live eternities thriving to gain someone's trust only to find out that we're eventually only 2 layers deep to skin yet that day I witnessed tens of patients entrusting us with their eternities with no validation but need. It would be an insult to think of them as strangers once I grasped that. 5 rehearsed question phrases in Swahili and many snickers from patients on our wrong pronunciation later, my colleague and I got the hang of this job.
Day 3, Zanzibar: Prison Island
Considering the fact that we ran to our hostel through the tiny alleyways of stonetown in a rainstorm with brownish water up to our knees the night before, we woke up pretty early that day.
After a productive day at the clinic's pharmacy and a few OPD cases, we prepared ourselves for the day's tour. Prison Island won my heart from the first turtle pat. This trip has a VIP seat in my heart because it was the most therapeutic. Part of my healing process, I believe, involved reminding myself of everything I used to be and showing it off to the world like I used to do. Prison Island gave me that even before we made it there. From singing out loud on a boat packed with people to feeding grumpy 190 yr old turtles to climbing every tree and prison cell door (breaking my phone screen in the process) to settling things out with friends and acting all boyish and random..... Everything gave me a feeling of being the star of the show again.....of being the special kid at the family gathering.....of being that blazing flame that burns with all the confidence of the world.
Finally, I sat watching the sun as it dipped into the ocean, surrounded by people I love, without a care in the world at that precise second, feeling like life has finally settled out its feuds with me......more like I have settled out my feuds with myself and allowed it a moment of forgiveness and peace. It reminded me of something I wrote previously:
"Life tore down every bar until the cell it locked me in for years became more of a dance floor. Loved ones loved me despite every clingy habit and nasty flaw I had or seemed to see. The kid sang boldly and the audience applauded and when the curtains closed the cheers went on."
I cruised to the island singing and laughing my lungs out but the journey back to Zanzibar island was a much calmer one, on the inside at least. My voice was steady and so was my heart which skipped no more beats. Confidence, strength, and the feeling of belonging were clearly my souvenirs from Prison Island that day.
Day 4, Zanzibar: The Clinic
A memorable sunrise walk on the beach with new friends marked this day beautiful before we even had breakfast. The day's clinic was the most organized and wholesome, probably because it was our final clinic day and we wanted to make it special. Within a few minutes, we turned an elementary school into a functioning clinic and the inspirational chaos caught fire. Pricking patients for Hemoglobin and Blood glucose screening was interesting and quite entertaining (Don't judge please and thank you) yet my most prominent accomplishment that day was killing a spider the size of my palm crawling on the clinic's roof .
I went back to the hostel with unbearable shoulder pain. Fortunately, Mrembo spa at the heart of stonetown had empty massage time slots that afternoon. The mixture of the african fragrances, oils, and the melodious market racket that drifted in from the open window at the spa was a magical experience. The rest of the day was devoted to souvenir shopping, trying out street food (Zanzibar Mix, a weird lentil soup-like dish containing weird dumplings, seemed like the safest option), and basically bidding stonetown goodbye because we knew tomorrow's plan could not accommodate it. After a long shopping spree, in which I'm sure we were scammed in spite of how proud we were of our bargaining skills, My friends and I got lost in the dark alleyways of stonetown after sunset. Not scary at all. That night after dinner, we had a game night at nomuhouse and it did really feel like we've been here together for years.......like we've already become a family.......a broken, very different, extremely awkward, and constantly at each other throats kind of family but still a family.
Day 5, Zanzibar: Paje Beach
I woke up today as an observer of the story. I saw myself getting ready, packing, & clearing the wobbly doored lockers of my hostel room. I witnessed us having our last breakfast together at Nomuhouse. I watched myself board the bus again with a will to reach out to villagers to treat their illnesses while they treat my soul. Nothing that day was by my control because if it was, I don't think I could've said goodbye this soon. Something about this life of giving and being part of this group felt so fascinating, it was too hard to let go.
On our last day we visited 2 schools to raise awareness about important health issues. My group of 4 was assigned the topic "seizures" (also known as "Kifafa" in Swahili). I obviously didn't miss a chance to act it out and scare the kids. Their beautiful smiles & shy attempts to break the language barrier was more than enough to make our hearts melt.
We headed back to the hostel & got ready for our last trip. Paje Beach was an hour & 200 cringy songs away. It was such a satisfying view. The colorful kites with the clear shore & tiny sailboats below combined with all the life from the surrounding locals & tourists gave us chills.
I'll never forget our farewell dinner that night. The stars shined as bright as I've ever seen them...A blanket of ornaments complemented with the sound of the ocean. We laughed, conversed, sang, & made sure to build as many significant memories as we could to bring back home & relive this night.
We went back to Nomuhouse and refused to spend our last night sleeping. We sat together on the roof having our last game night, sipping coffee, & listening to Um Kalthoum's "نسيت النوم".
At dawn, we forced ourselves down from the roof & took the bus to the airport. The goodbye was among the most bittersweet but one thing kept us going: knowing that we're leaving with much more than we came with.
We leave with memories to cherish, with achievements to be proud of, with countless stories to tell, & with inside jokes to share with a new family we made.
Until Next time..