such a different way of life

Selamnachehu!

This is an attempt to transcribe the Amharic word for “Hello” !
To get an idea of the of the Amharic syllabary, just have a look on the picture below! (I always thought I could easily learn new languages, but Amharic seems to be impossible. I barely manage to remember a single word for 5 minutes)
But that was not what I wanted to tell today. I just imagined it to be a good introduction to some of the traditions and cultural aspects of this country.
On one of the pictures below, you can see a woman from behind. Underneath the white shawl she is carrying a baby. The strings that you can see hanging from her waist belong to a belt made from leather with some sort of white stones of pearls which make noise when the woman moves. Many women wear those belts when they are carrying a baby. It is supposed to keep evil spirits away and protect the baby. The baby is not necessarily a child of the woman carrying it. When a mother just gave birth, we wrap the baby up in a shawl and then it is mostly taken over by an aunt, sister, grandmother or other friend of relative while the mother is still at the delivery room.
Also, when breastfeeding mothers are admitted to the hospital, they often leave the baby behind at their village and some other woman will breastfeed the child together with her own child. Mostly then I try to explain that is important to have the baby around, so that the mother does not get a breast infection (mastitis) on top of her other health problems and to make sure she keeps up her “production” so she will be able to continue feeding the baby. Because the hygiene is so poor that –even if the family could effort it– a baby fed with formula milk would soon die from some infection.
And like this there are many examples of how caring the families are. When a woman is admitted to our ward, she usually comes accompanied by at least 4-5 relatives (or maybe neighbours, friends…) The family takes care of the food for the admitted woman and they help her where ever they can: emptying urine catheters or urine pots (there are 1 or 2 toilets in the whole ward. They do not work (no water). So every admitted person has got a pot underneath the bed which they use as a “toilet”), getting medication and administering it, taking care of a newborn baby and probably many things more. It is amazing how loving and caring they are.
Though, at first sight it does not always seem as if they would care a lot. For example, yesterday, a baby was born with severe congenital abnormalities. Even in a western country this baby would not have survived. But his little heart was beating and beating and beating. The family did not care a lot. Which seems very hard and strange to us. But after two weeks here, I learned that it is so common that babies die, they just cannot grieve every time, because they would probably spend most of the time grieving. So instead of the people being sad about the dying baby, I saw very happy people. And you know why? Because the mother of the baby survived!
That does not mean that the women and their families are not happy if a baby survives. They sometimes are so happy and thankful, that we get hugged and kissed buy a dozen people, because we saved mother AND baby.
The kissing and hugging part brings me to another aspect of Ethiopian culture. And I admit that I had to get used to it. From what I saw and experienced in the past two weeks, most of the people are very “touchy”. You see men walking down the street holding hands, colleagues hug each other when they meet in the morning and it is a sign of appreciation if someone feeds you: When people are eating together (with their hands of course. Many Ethiopians - even with higher levels of education - do not know how to use fork and knife, because even in restaurants you eat with your right hand) they crap some food an literally feed each other, to show that they appreciate the other person.
Though I am not a very distant person, I had to get used to hug people I meet for the very first time, to walk holding hands and to have my colleagues at 5 cm distance when we talk to each other. In the beginning I thought I was because I was a woman (quite a cliché, isn’t it?!). But they do the same with the Australian gynecologist, who is a man. So I start to get used to it.
Another tradition:
One of the students living on the compound had been to a wedding. When he came back I asked him about wedding parties in Ethiopia. That is what he told me:
In the rural areas (like the villages surrounding Motta) getting married has nothing to do with love. If, for example, the parents of a boy decide that it is time for him to get married, they go to another village -mostly at distance- and look for a family having a daughter that should get married as well. When the parents of both the boy and the girl have agreed that their kids get married, two parties are held, each one lasting 3 days: One in the village of the boy and one in the village of the girl. On the second day of the party the wedding ceremony is held: In each of the two villages a preacher will speak prayers for the you couple. But still, the two have never ever met. At the end of the third day of the wedding party the girl travels to the village of her husband and meets him for the first time in her live. And then they are supposed to live happily ever after. In a country where people struggle to survive every day, love is not the most important aspect of a marriage.
But ,like in the rest of the world, things change in the city, The student also told me, that is older brother still has been married in this manner. But he told his mother that he does not want to do it that way. He wants to get married to the girl of his own choice. Apparently his mother agreed (according to him, it will save her a huge amount of money, because in a modern wedding, the parents do not have the expenses of a 3 day party). We will see! But anyway: it seems to me, that some traditions might be changed!
At the hospital I also would like to get some “traditions” changed. For example I try to get some routines and procedures established at the obstetric ward, just like the foreign midwives that have been here before me. And that does not mean that I want to turn things by 180 degrees. Just that like all colleagues before me I try to get glass and needles being disposed in safe containers, files to be filled in, patients being checked regularly, rooms getting cleaned and so on. But “traditions” can be sticky and hard to change, even if it only applies to hospital routines. So I will keep doing what the midwives before me did and see if my good example eventually helps to introduce some changes on a more permanent basis and not only as long as I watch out for it.
It would be so good to see that thing were a bit saver for mothers and babies. Though I think that it is already better than it has been 2 years ago. And how can I expect that the same 2 midwives run the whole ward on their own for 1 week (day and night, because the rest of the staff is on training, on sick leave or whatever else)and still do all the things that we would do in an eight hour shift. They just need to sit down every now and then and have a rest. I can’t blame them.
As you can see, we manage somehow. Only that I have to adapt my goals to the possibilities around here.
Ciao (adapted into Amharic from the Italians, who were the only colonial power ever in Ethiopia and only for 5 years during WW II. And as you can see on the pictures they also adapted the spaghetti, just that they eat it with injera and using their hand instead of a fork.)