Eric's highest and lowest points of the semester

It seems like it has been quite a while since I posted. When I wrote my last entry, I was preparing for a three-day trip along the Garden Route with a large group of my co-educators—what a weekend that turned out to be! We experienced unrivaled natural beauty, from the yellow grasses and short shrubs of the Klein Karoo to the sloping peaks and lush green trees of the actual Garden Route. We went on excursions to the Cango Caves in Oudtshoorn, where at times all 188cm of me had to squeeze through 37cm tunnels, and to Wilderness National Park, where Drew and I paired up for some high energy canoeing. We got our fix of South Africa’s diverse wildlife on an elephant bush walk at Buffelsdrift Game Lodge and on a game drive at Botlierskop Game Reserve. But the highlight of the weekend was without a doubt my death-defying bungee jump off Bloukrans Bridge, the highest bridge bungee in the world at 216m. From this weekend, I have pictures, videos, and memories with my co-educators that will last forever.

 

Eric's leap of the bridge

However, just within these last few days I experienced one of my highest points of the semester, and also one of my lowest points. I’ll start on the more positive note.

On Saturday, Derek, Mariko, Abby, and I met up with Abongile Qasana (better known as Bongi) to take the minibus taxi to Khayelitsha for our first day of our activist project with the Fire Fighters Football Club. The Fire Fighters is a youth soccer organization that strives to keep boys and young men away from poverty, violence, and gangsterism through a shared passion for the sport. At least once a week, we will be helping Coach Bongi and Coach Power run practice sessions for the athletes and provide support and motivation during games and tournaments. When we first met the boys before their scrimmage against another local team, they were all rather shy and quiet, and I thought that it would take a lot of effort to get them up and running around and ready for their game. But as soon as they put on their uniforms and sprinted over to the passing drill we had set up, they wouldn’t stop smiling and playing for the rest of the afternoon.

Eric, Derek, Abby & Mariko
with the amazing little FireFighters

What struck me the most was seeing that this club was truly a family. Within the Fire Fighters, there are several teams of different ages (U9, U11, U15, etc.). Back in the United States, two different age groups within the same club hardly have any interaction, and one almost certainly never comes out to watch the other’s games. Yet, the Fire Fighters are united by so much more than just their jerseys or team name; they are united by love and support for one another. The more experienced older athletes take it upon themselves to arrange the equipment for the younger athletes and give them suggestions on how to improve. Saturday only featured two matches, but Bongi insisted that on tournament days, not a single player goes home until the last team has walked off the field. I feel so lucky to be welcomed into their little community, and I cannot wait until I can lace up next. I can only hope that I live up to a fraction of the expectations they have of us UConn students.

Please consider donating to the team HERE to help pay for equipment, tournament entry fees, and snacks for the athletes. Every single dollar you contribute will be well worth it.

Unfortunately, Tuesday at Tafelsig Clinic did not have the same warm outcome. I must say that my experience at the clinic has been absolutely fantastic so far. Sister Castle, Dr. Raciet, and Dr. Dawood, to name only a few of the amazing staff who have taken us into their care, have made it their duty that we learn something new every day. From performing HIV tests, to helping Sister draw blood, to analyzing x-rays with Doctor, to counseling patients on dietary improvements, I am feeling more and more knowledgeable. But I’m not sure that anything could have prepared us for what happened when we returned from tea Tuesday morning.  We received news that there was a resuscitation in progress and we rushed to the emergency room to see what was happening. Expecting to see a geriatric patient who had complained of chest pain, we were shocked and heartbroken to see a 6-week old baby lying motionless on the table receiving chest compressions, oxygen, and fluids. We watched in silence as the doctors and sisters did everything in their power to get a pulse, but in vain. One by one, the staff fell away from the table with expressionless faces, and we understood what that signaled.

The event affected everyone involved, and all who were present engaged in an hour-long debriefing to discuss logistics like how the attempted resuscitation went, but also to talk about our emotions and what we had witnessed. I had a lot of thoughts running through my head, but at the same time couldn’t really put them into words. I understand that death is something that comes with the medical profession, but it came so unexpectedly. Yet, I never questioned for a second that this is the work I want to be doing a handful of years from now. I was so inspired and so impressed by the doctors and sisters, even if they knew that the resuscitation attempt was futile. They dropped everything they were doing and gave their full attention to the baby, knowing full well that at 11:00am, there were still at least a few hundred patients waiting to be seen. The level of professionalism and calmness they demonstrated in the face of an emergency that was nothing short of frantic is something that I aspire to achieve. When I first came to Cape Town, I was unsure of the quality of healthcare that would be found here; I now truly believe that if I could be only half as skilled, caring, and hardworking as the doctors and sisters at Tafelsig, I would be elated.