The President

The harmattan has moved through Lunsar and the banana trees stand still now in shiny droops of bending attention.  No more wind.  The tuxedoed magpies flap through the stillness and caw atop headless palm trees and swoop down to pick through the garbage pile that is not far enough away from where we live and eat.  The west African dwarf goats lock horns on the side of the dirt road and refuse to mix with the lambs who tend to be more solitary and conserve their energy (or are more in touch with their fate).  I think back to when I was six years old growing up in Vermont.  I thought then that the arc of the universe would bend according to my will.  I wonder if children here think anything is possible for them??  When I ride into work in the morning or take a walk into town, their smiles enter through my eyes and are converted instantly by the organ machinery I was born with and the blood enzymes I have brewed unfiltered over the years, into a universal antidote.

The streets today were lined with local soldiers wearing light blue camouflaged pant-shirt sets and red berets and policemen in green, tucked in, bearing crude rifles.  Women wore vibrant printed wraps with matching head scarves and lipstick, their babies wrapped tightly on their backs.  Motorcycle taxis flanked the main street in town.  It had the feel of a local high school football star returning home from war.  But, in fact, President Ernest Bai Koroma was coming to visit our Ebola Treatment Center today.

Koroma, from a nearby town, was an insurance executive who was elected in 2007 and speaks the local language, Temne.  He is serving his second term and is generally well-liked but I get the sense that even if he wasn't, given the brutal recent history here, contrarian voices would remain silent.

I had the day off today but couldn't resist the opportunity to meet the President and hear a pep-talk style speech to all the workers at our center.  Even if it was political parlance, African style. Even if it had gratuitous photo opportunities with Ebola patients behind the fence.  What I really wanted, though, was to ask the President to say hello to the kids in our confirmed ward, even if it was through two fences and 15 feet away.   I wanted leadership in action in this time of great crisis.  I wanted charisma, confidence, and heartfelt concern.  I wanted vision, a sun-drenched, concise path to lead the country out of despair.  After waiting for him for 5 hours, we received word that he would not be able to make it.

The embers in Sierra Leone turn grey and then into dust.  There is no wind here tonight to fan them. But in the morning, when the roosters squawk and peck around the swept dirt courtyard, the embers will grow radiant once again, and the pot that is placed on top of them will be waiting like a giant stemless chalice for water and the reconciliation that comes with bright, sweet yams.

(For the video  taken by one of my colleagues, Joel, of our WASH team going in to get Martin ready for discharge please go to www.bit.ly/ppedance)

Judas

Shakira

Me with the guys from WASH