A Little Experiential Learning in Community Health

So, rural excursion didn't go exactly as planned. Let me start at the beginning.

We embarked on our six hour car ride last Friday morning, arriving at Mboyki campsite right before dark. I was pleasantly surprised to find that we wouldn't actually be camping but sleeping on beds in circular, straw-grass huts. The next day we drove an hour or so down some bumpy dirt roads toward where we would be hiking. The 7 hour hike was gorgeous- the South African country-side in the Eastern Cape is absolutely breath-taking. Big rolling hills, patches of lush forest, big cliffs next to the sea, and all so green. I felt like I should be writing a poem or singing some Sound of Music (I did hum a couple of lines from 'the hills are alive...') We passed cattle and people riding horses every so often and waded across small streams. Our final destination was Waterfall Bluff, a waterfall crashing over a rocky cliff into the ocean below. We sat there awhile taking pictures and admiring the view before we noticed an older woman sitting and staring out at the ocean. It turned out there had been people there collecting mussels from the rocks, and a woman had slipped off into the ocean and was swept under by one of the waves. The others had gone back for help and this woman was waiting to see if she would resurface. This had happened a couple hours ago, and our cell phones wouldn't have reception, so there was nothing we could really do, and with the rough waters and all the sharks it was probably too late. This put a somber tone to the second half of our hike. It's so easy to forget about the hazards people face who live and work amongst these beautiful yet dangerous areas, and it was really sad to see this.

The next day while we were driving to the village we would be staying at it started to downpour. The dirt roads were getting really nasty, and it was doubtful we would be able to make it down the steep dirt road going into the village without sliding in our big 10 passenger vans with trailers, so we opted to stay at Jungle Monkey, a backpacker's lodge in Port St. Johns. We had a blast singing karaoke and went to bed happy and tired. And then it happened. Around 11pm, the first person dashed to the bathroom. Then another, then another. Within a few hours about half of our group of 22, including me, was violently expelling from both ends, for lack of a more delicate description. I spent the night on some couches with about eight other girls and a trash can, trying to rehydrate ourselves with this disgusting salt and sugar water solution. Needless to say, it was a bonding experience. The next day the other lucky half went on to the rural homestay while the rest of us stayed at the hostel sipping watered-down sports drinks and trying not to move too much. I'm fine now, besides looking like I have chicken pox from all the mosquitoes and fleas from the cute but apparently dirty dogs living at the Jungle Monkey. We think it was probably from the water at the campsite that was supposedly safe; either that or some weird virus that we all happened to get at the same time.

So, our trip was certainly not what we had planned. But I guess it was a little bit of experiential learning in community health.