Farewell Ant

It's jokingly said that expats working in places such as the Solomons are one of three M's. Missionaries, Mercenaries or Mad (I'll let you decide, dear reader, which one I am). I hope not too many of my colleagues read this because on the whole I would have to say this seems about right, and I haven't met too many missionaries. Despite, or perhaps because of this, every now and then you meet someone with whom you click.

Last time I met and worked with an ICU nurse, Antony, with whom I had some really interesting conversations and spent some very amusing evenings. The fact that we were born six months apart may have had a little to do with this, but looking somewhat similar just made it odd. On more than one occasion we were confused for each other by locals (who are happy to admit that "all whiteys look the same to us.") Fortunately he was here again when Rachael and I returned this year and despite my bizzare roster we managed to catch up a few times again. (It was through a friend of Ant's that we were invited to the traditional dancing afternoon at the Sikianan village that I wrote about several blogs ago.)

I won't dissect Ant too much because I know he will eventually read this, but he is an interesting character. Ant has lived mostly in the Solomons for the last two or three years, and unlike most, has socialised a lot with local people who have come to be true firends. As a result he speaks pidjin like a local (don't deny it Ant) and was my inspiration for starting to learn the language, and in turn gaining a better insight into the people and their culture. Amongst other things he is also a philosopher, theologian, and occasional karaoke singer when disabled by the local delicacy Saratoga.

After a pretty good innings Ant has bravely decided, with a little help from a mildly retarded bureacracy, to leave his comfort zone in the Solomons and return to his Buddist studies in Kathmandu before moving on to the next phase of his life, possibly at the direction of his long time Buddist teachers. So without further ado Rachael and I thank you for some great times, wish you all the best in your reflection and look forward to seeing what is next for you after that.

Ant at his farewell by the locally employed contractors. I'll upload their farewell song when I work out how.

One of Ant's legacies is a Monday morning village clinic. These were originally instituted by the Australian Federal Police (AFP) about a year ago as a community outreach program. Ironically it seems that instituting the idea was the bulk of the AFP's involvement because it is volunteers and donations from Aspen Medical (the organisation for whom I'm working) that make it happen. Very early on Ant took on the responsability of organising the equipment, volunteers and much of the way in which it runs.

Initially it was aimed at a community just on the edge of town called Burns Creek. I don't pretend to fully understand the situation there but it seems to be a community of outcast Malaitans. Almost everyone in Honiara is from the neighbouring island of Malaita and despite the cessation of the ethnic tensions officially there is still limited contact between the Malaitans from Honiara and the Gwales from Guadalcanal who live in the surrounding countryside. Stuck on the edge of town are the Malaitans of Burns Creek who are not very welcome by either ethnic group. As a result this is one of the first places where violence breaks out when local tensions are high, thus the AFP's need to show some interest and involvement.

Although I had only been able to attend one clinic as a result of the previously mentioned bizzare roster I could immediately see what Ant meant about the rewards that one got by helping at these clinics. The help provided is only basic wound care and infection control, but the living conditions are so much more basic that every little bit is a bit help. There are conditions that clinicians would just never see in Australia. Simple fungal infections run unchecked until they take on monumental proportions. Wounds, which are common from every day activities, are left open and become infected very easily in fairly unsanitary conditions. I should warn you that some of the pictures that follow are a little unsettling.

When Ant left there was a bit of an underwhelming response to the question of who would take over. I must admit that mine was one of the hands that didn't go up when we were asked who would like to assume responsability, mostly beacuse I had no idea what to do. My policy as a Paramedic is I am in my element if your condition threatens to kill you in the next hour. Thankfully Ant later took me aside and gently suggested I was bloody well taking over. After a brief handover and with generous help from much more knowledgable nursing staff than myself we have now completed the first of the on-going clinics in Ant's absence. Thankyou again Ant, this getting out of your comfort zone thing really has its rewards.

The Burns Creek village clinic in action

Local Burns Creek Housing. Much of day to day life occurs under the houses in the dirt.

Nurse Colleen cleaning a wound. Very entertaining for all concerned.

Dr.George checks a case of respiratory illness.

Happy despite the scabies around the mouth.

What happens when a small fungal infection is allowed to fester, for years.

A simple cut on a foot from a fallen branch. These are very common with no shoes.

Both of us having a go at "tough" and disproving, once and for all, that we look anything alike. PS I am deliberately pushing my gut out just to match Ants. Really.