All I remember from my trip to Bukoba

I decided to enjoy my last days in Northern Tanzania by visiting my friend in Bukoba. Trip to Bukoba is best to be taken by overnight boat across the Lake Victoria. I was very excited to visit my friend after a long time.

I bought a ticket to first class which meant to share a cabin with one other person. Other choices would have been second class cabin sharing with six people, or third class sharing with hundreds fighting over a seat to sit all the way to Bukoba.

I had a nice room mate but I don’t know if she shares the feeling with me. I started having stomach problems as soon as the boat left the port. I had a terrible night. My stomach was aching and I had to run to the bathroom a lot. I was so happy when we finally reached Bukoba.

My friend invited me to stay in her house. In local standards it was quite good. In our standards some might say it lack some necessities. I say their hospitality was more than enough.

After greeting parents we headed to a hospital. There were few choices; government hospital with huge line, Hindu hospital which has been my hospital in Mwanza, and the Ngerere hospital which was recommended by the parents. We entered the Ngerere hospital at eight.

The hospital was a small building. Waiting room was a shape of letter L with three wooden benches in both “rooms”. We were pointed to sit in the end of one of the benches.

There was a certain waiting order in those benches. I am not sure it how it worked but all the others seemed to be happy with the order. After an hour we were called to a report. The guy didn’t speak any English. I managed to say that my stomach was aching and I wanted to see a doctor, but other than that, we had a minor language barrier. The card that I received said that I was married with three children and my husband was a pilot. I thought it wouldn’t make a difference so I moved to the other end of the waiting room to another bench.

An hour later doctor called me in. He wanted to have a blood sample and a stool sample and took me to “laboratory”. Another room with a sign that said laboratory; two chairs and one desk and one bucket full of needles, stethoscope on the desk. “Laboratory person” didn’t speak any English either. He was very kind though. Being a white person I received lot of extra care. I don’t think I was the sickest person but I seemed to be taken most seriously.

Blood sample was taken like usually. Clean needle quickly injected to the mid finger and it was ready. Stool sample seemed to cause more problems. First of all they called a cleaning lady to clean the toilet. Then they sent someone to go out to find toilet paper. Then after ten minutes I was escorted to the bathroom with piece of newspaper and a single match. I entered the room while everyone was waiting behind the door.

Ten minutes I waited and waited but didn’t succeed. I came out while everyone was out waiting for me. They all seemed to be disappointed. Well, I didn’t have anything inside of me so how was I supposed to give the sample. I told them that let’s just wait for a while and I will do it later.

We sat down in a waiting room and followed the flowing line of people entering the doctor’s room one after another. Most people seemed to be very sick. They were coughing and sneezing without putting hand on their mouth. I was sure that I would get some dying decease if I didn’t have it already. Well, there is no such custom here, so what was there to say.

An hour later doctor called me in again. He said that there was no need of waiting for the stool sample since my blood already showed that it was malaria. This time I had four parasites. I asked could malaria really cause my stomach to be like this, since it felt the same as previously when I had amoeba. He said, it could also be amoeba. So I asked if I could get medicine for amoeba and if that didn’t work I would come for the malaria treatment. He thought it was a good idea, but he mentioned that I should bring the stool sample as soon as I got it, and that I should also return two days later for a check up.

We left home after four hour visit to the hospital. We ate lunch, I took my medicine, and I went to sleep. Four hours later I woke up and was invited for dinner. I ate some beans in a hope to be able to hurry the sample giving. It didn’t work. Instead I started vomiting which kept in bed the rest of the day. I was so embarrassed.

The parents were trying their best. I knew I was causing them a problem. They thought it was the food they had served me. They were also scared that this white person was going to die in their house. It would mean lot of problems for them. Still their hospitality was amazing.

The next day I decided to wait for the stool sample and then go back to the hospital. The whole family was waiting. They didn’t speak any English but I could tell that my sample seemed to be the main topic through out the day. When ever I went to toilet they all looked at me if I had succeeded. I felt bad to disappoint them – every time.

I started to widen my daily menu. I ate rice and some fruits which seemed to stay inside. I kept eating beans in hope of succeeding finally. But nothing! I decided to go to sleep with good hope of tomorrow.

In the middle of the night my stomach decided to start working – finally. I didn’t know what to do. I knew that for amoeba the sample must be fresh. If I emptied my stomach now, I knew there was no way of giving a sample later that day. I had a problem.

I entered the bathroom and turned the light on. Three huge cockroaches run under the toilet. It was easy to make up my mind. I decided to hold until morning.

When the morning came I delivered the long waited sample. The whole family seemed to be happy for my progress. We left back to the hospital.

This time there were only few people waiting. I walked straight to the laboratory to bring the sample. They asked why it had taken so long. I was very unhappy with their respond since I knew how much work it had been to deliver even that one. I gave it to them and went to see the doctor.

The doctor was not the same. This one was a female and didn’t speak any English. She decided to test everything possible so I was sent back to the laboratory. I thought that might be a good idea so I followed the doctor’s orders.

Stool sample was fresh, so no problems there. Blood was easy, so that was ticked out fast. Then urine. I entered the bathroom which had become very familiar to me from my previous visit. I was given a soda bottle. I decided not to look amazed. I just wondered that this is why they write “only for drinking” on the side of the bottles. I entered the room – nothing!

After ten minutes I came out and faced the disappointed faces waiting outside. I was so embarrassed. I decided to go out and find water. I drunk two litres of water and returned to the hospital. Everyone was looking at me. I wasn’t sure was it like usually because of my colour or was it that everyone knew this is the “Mzungu” who can’t deliver any samples when needed.

My friend and I waited patiently. Time passed and more and more people came with weird deceases or abnormalities. Just a side note for all of you. Be happy with the situation you have in your home country. It can never be compared to this. If you don’t have malaria, typhoid, amoeba or some other everyday sickness, you won’t be cured here.

After an hour I decided to give it another try. I went back to the bathroom. Now I faced another problem. I had never done it into a soda bottle. Let me tell you, it isn’t easy – unless you are a boy. You are welcome to try.

This next part is for those who know me well. Those who don’t know me, better jump to the next paragraph, so that they still have some respect on me. Because I know that after reading this there is no respect left. Anyway, I started to aim. It was still lot of work to get anything out. When I finally did get something out, I missed the bottle. I was so mad. So what to do now? I came out and people seemed relieved. They had heard me succeed through the door. Now I came out and had to tell them that it was false alarm. Fortunately my drinking had some consequences and I went back after few minutes. I was finally through with all the tests.

I got the results after half an hour. No malaria, no amoeba, nothing was wrong with me. I guess the amoeba medicine had worked and there was no malaria since the beginning. Doctor advised to finish the medicine and get new tests after a week. I was relieved. I started feeling better right there. I guess I was faking since the beginning.

We left the hospital and went back to my friend’s home. Everyone was waiting. They were so happy to hear about my “recovery”. I even felt like a winner. I didn’t die in their house and I didn’t need to give any more samples to anyone.

My three day visit to Bukoba was nice although there is not much else to tell you than my visit to a hospital.

On the third day I took a boat back to Mwanza. This time there were no problems, at least nothing that has occurred yet. The return trip was interesting though. I don’t wonder anymore why there are so many accidents on these boats. We barely stayed above the surface with all the bananas that we had. And loading and unloading them is another story – not to mention how they played Celine Dion’s Titanic song through the whole nine hour trip…

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