I know that you don't want me to be
Out here forever on this road
Or live among the boxes
Where all our past lives have been stowed
Maybe you're thinking of our place
With a garden by the sea
Where we could slow down
And you could put a little more work in on me
What with all my expectations long abandoned
My solitary nature notwithstanding
You're the one who pulled me
Out of that crash landing
My stunning mystery companion
Three days and
a wake up is what we used to say in the Army. It means 3 sunrises, 3 sunsets
and a rooster crow and I’m home. Yes I know the last post was about exactly the
same thing but that was a too quick trip home for vacation. I’ve been back a
little over a month working on transferring some of the program assets to the
government of Liberia. I’m done. Time for a final post. This time it’s
homecoming. Home to Piper. Home to Haley. Home to Jessie – my stunning mystery
companion. To be honest, taking a break from surgery and jumping into this had
all the elements of a potential midlife crisis – uncertainty, unplanned, unexpected.
Instead, it was life affirming, wholly absorbing and crazy interesting. And
there was a safety net. Jess. I knew she was ever there – no crash landing.
I’ve told you
about this place and this disease but not enough about the people I worked
with. There was a core group I spent most of my time with on this project and
another core group who staffed our clinic in Monrovia. To a person they
represent everything one could hope for in colleagues – a great sense of humor,
a tireless work ethic, ridiculous competency, selflessness and impenetrable
accents at times. More on the last one in a second. We were truly a polyglot
tribe. From our Liberian colleagues with their special brand of Libglish and
phrasing from the 18th century, to our Antipodean colleagues with
their awesome slang, to our South Africans with their very special brand of
English that I just could not understand at times, we cobbled together a common
tongue and understanding.
Let me tell you
a little bit about the ones I was with almost hourly. Forgive me if some of
these comments may have a bit of an inside joke flavor to them. I spent the
most time with Brian and Nick. I’ve mentioned Brian before. He served as the
program manager and hails from NZ. The success of the Aspen portion of the
program is due in large part to Brian. His steady hand, fairness and attention
to detail kept it all happening. His tales of Antarctica (Brian is a retired NZ
Air Force General and perhaps the world’s most experienced Antarctic helicopter
pilot) kept me riveted during countless dinner discussions. His theories of
everything from change to Brontosauri were entertaining as well.
Nick or Saint
Nick as we called him is from of all places Boston. Boston, England. He served
as our logistics manager and made sure the program lacked for nothing but on
the rare occasion when it did he could invent anything out of nothing. Of
course he was also great at finding things that “fell off the back of the
truck”. He will be transitioning to come work with Aspen on a different project
as we build a clinic in Freetown Sierra Leone. Unflappable is the best word I
can use to describe Nick.
Mike and
Muhammad were PAE counterparts for Brian and me. Muhammad while originally from
Pakistan has spent years working on USAID development projects across Africa.
Mike is from DC by way of LA (lower Alabama) and ran the whole show with aplomb
and a focused calm that taught me a lot. Together the two of them kept the
program running on all cylinders even when everyone else had run out of gas.
Russ our deputy
program manager is a former Australian military officer who now lives in
Tasmania. He will likely be the one to turn out the lights on Aspen’s part of
the program sometime in the early fall. Katie was our training lead and
singlehandedly was responsible for crafting our curricula out of the best WHO
and MSF had to offer and delivering it to nine remote sites in a very
compressed few weeks. Not a single ETU would have opened up had it not been for
her making sure everyone was trained and trained properly. She was also the one
to somehow find a blowup Santa and park him in the dining area when most of us
didn’t even realize it was Christmas day.
Finally let me
tell you a little bit about Kebeh our Liberian admin assistant. She worked
directly for Brian but made sure all of us thrived in our new environment.
Everyone got paid even though Liberian banks can be challenging to say the
least. Everyone got in and out of the country without hassles. Everyone had all
the licenses they needed. And, everyone who had a birthday while we were here
got a cake courtesy of Kebeh. There are
dozens of others I worked with some of whom I’ve mentioned in other posts.
These are the folks though that greeted me on day one and are still here as I
exit six months later.
With a mixture
of fondness, nostalgia and good riddance I left the Congo Town compound
yesterday. While beachside and comfortable enough it just wasn’t home of
course. The waves were a constant source of torture to look at but I loved
hearing them. The concertina wire that surrounded us gave everything that
Martha Stewart minimum-security warm and fuzzy. The food was always plentiful
and safe and occasionally inspired-especially the curries-but I cannot wait for
a piece of monchong, fresh asparagus and a trip to yogurt mama.
My colleagues
at the Aspen clinic deserve a shout out as well. Remember the clinic is a
totally separate effort from this Ebola program but it was a place we
congregated on an almost daily basis whether to get medications, bring
colleagues who were ill or injured, or just sit in air conditioning. Doctor
Leon took care of us all myself included. The clinic continues to grow and now
that Liberia is Ebola free people and businesses are coming back en masse.
We’ve decided to bring an airplane to Monrovia to fill a market gap in
aeromedical evacuation, cargo and passengers. My clinic and Aspen colleagues in
DC have worked so unbelievably hard to bring this to fruition. Airplane deals
are complicated enough but when you factor in three continents, multiple
stakeholders, three sets of lawyers and West Africa things get really sporty.
I had a great
time. I think I helped some. I learned tons. Jess and I celebrate our 20th
wedding anniversary late next month. She’s the only reason I was able to
experience any of this and any help I was able to offer the program is because
she made it so. The final stanza of Jackson Browne’s Stunning Mystery Companion
speaks of a partner sticking it out for 10 years and no more, but then taking
another 10 years just to be sure. Ten and ten is twenty. Can I get another
twenty more? I’ll see you Wednesday.
Maybe you were joking when you said
You'd take me for ten years and no more
Maybe you've had the best of me
But you could take another ten years and be sure
What with all my expectations long abandoned
And a life that just gets more and more demanding
There's no doubt that you're the reason I'm still
standing
My
stunning mystery companion
 |
| Congo Town compound |
 |
| Congo Town sunrise |
Note: Words by Jackson
Browne
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