The Innocent Anthropologist by Nigel Barley

Author:Nigel Barley [Nigel Barley]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781780600222
Publisher: Eland Publishing
Published: 2012-02-29T16:00:00+00:00

9

Ex Africa semper quid nasty

Any African hospital is a shock by Western standards. There is nothing here to remind us of the hushed tones and pastel hues of our institutions. The unpleasant and offensive aspects of the human body are not dealt with in side wards and behind screens; it is very much a public place. When a man is ill, his whole family insist on being there, cooking there, doing the washing, nursing the children and conducting domestic affairs in strident voices as if at home. There are blaring radios, hawkers peddling a hundred forms of trash, long queues of swaddled women and downcast men all clutching pieces of paper like charms. Male nurses cut through them, intent on their own purposes, oblivious to the clutching hands and wailing voices. The environs are an ecological disaster. Every leaf has been plucked to wipe hands, every twig to feed fires, every blade of grass has been pounded to death and the lunar landscape is dotted with neat piles of excrement on which furtive dogs feed.

In the midst of it all is a doctor, usually white, harassed and overworked, rushing from one emergency to another, combining in his own no-frills service the competences of a dozen hospital departments. Here I received treatment in the form of gamma globulin injections that made me incapable of moving my legs for two days and, once more, I was generously taken in from the rain by the Nelsons who clearly decided on a policy of feeding me up.

The great trouble with hepatitis, it seemed, was that it could easily become chronic and dog me to the end of my stay. It was therefore important to identify which of the several varieties I had contracted. This could only be done at Yaounde. Here there was also a proper dentist who could produce a more serviceable dental repair until I got back to England. I was encouraged to seek this by the obvious distress of Westerners when my teeth flew out spontaneously in the midst of eating, talking or other forms of ordinary activity.

Financial disaster loomed on all fronts. Money was still not getting through to me. The bank was incapable of following the simplest instructions and my indebtedness to the mission was becoming something of an embarrassment. Now I had to face further expenditure on vehicle and personal repairs. In desperation I sent a telegram to my college asking them to advance me £500 to get me out of difficulties. If they could cable it to me, I would pick it up at the British Embassy in Yaounde.

My physical collapse had come at a relatively convenient time. The main ritual season was over and the harvest, which I particularly wanted to witness, had not yet begun. I had about three weeks to refit and return to the field. With luck I might just make it. Gritting my dentures, I set off for Yaounde.

Being in a delicate condition, I opted for taking a couchette and damn the expense.

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