HOLY WATER BOTTLES, GRASSHOPPERS AND DRUMS-1

E.N.T. ZAMBIA.  

Me, Alex, Alfred and Kieran

Martin, Alfred and Kieran.

We set off on March 3^rd and flew from Heathrow, overnight, to Lusaka, the capital of  Zambia.    “We”, were Kieran O’Driscoll, E.N.T. surgeon, Alex Fay, Senior Audiologist,    Martin Stone, Audiologist and hearing aid wizard and me.   

Sr.Bernard

We arrived crumpled and dazed and, before I could get my bearings, Sr. Bernard had whisked us through passport and customs.   Sr. Bernard is “a friend of the corpse” and she has free rein in Kenneth Kaunda Airport.   She is the airport chaplain and, as a woman of formidable presence, all the airport staff defer to her.   Besides, she got a hearing aid from E.N.T. Zambia.  

Not viewing guests as dinner

No, they’re not man-eaters; they’re moved into the wild before they’re old enough to start viewing the guests as dinner.   We unpacked, had a shower and went off to the E.N.T. unit in Beit Cure Hospital, Lusaka.  

Me!   Me!   Me!   Me! Me!

Of course she did!  

I put a little lipstick on her lips and next thing I was mobbed by a jostling chorus of “ Me. Me.  Me.  Me. Me.  Me!”   And that included boys.   I got them to queue up… sort of… and the more enterprising boys  came back for a second application!

            There weren’t too many children at the Chainde clinic so most of the time I was testing adults until Mary arrived.   She was four.   The problem with hearing tests is that the you need the full co-operation of the patient.  With adults, you ask them to raise their hand when they hear the whistle, put on the headphones and off you go.     But children are different.    They get easily distracted.   They get squirmy when  their legs are dangling from adult-sized chairs. They may not understand the instruction.      They may raise their hand when they hear the first sound and then leave it up and not  know what to do when they hear the next sound.    They get worried, lose confidence and, in an effort to please, they  give false responses and you have to start all over again.   So, when you’re testing  children you need a child-sized table and chair.   You need a box of bricks and you need a drum.    You demonstrate what you want by banging the drum and getting the child to put a brick in the box each time she hears.    But we had no child-sized furniture, no bricks, no box, no drum and not even a  common language.   Mary only spoke Nyanga and so did her mother. 

I just had to hope that Mary wouldn’t get too squirmy.   I decided to get her to tap the table with something each time she heard the sound.   I searched the room for something she could use.   There was a rack of Mass vestments.    But you can’t tap a table with a chasuble!   There was a shelf with a large missal and some books.    There were some missionary magazines, and copies of a parish newsletter.    Then I spied some small bottles.   Jackpot!

Note bottles on bottom shelf.

    One was labelled “Chrism”, it was very sticky.   Another was labelled  “Oil of Catechumens”, that was sticky as well.   The third was labelled “Holy Water.”   Okay, I thought, let’s go with the Holy Water.  Then I had to find an interpreter.   I found a Zambian nun who had come with another patient and commandeered her.

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