This month I have encountered numerous moments when I have been forced to consider whether living and working in a rural area has been over glamorised. I have met students who have been disappointed by the frustrating systems in place, friends in urban settings who feel marginalised by their rural peers and doctors who question why they came all the way out here "just for this".
When considering the run up to moving
out here, I remember the embellished view I had of the place....caring,
productive communities.... inspiring medical staff... functional health care
systems that worked in the most remote of conditions.
In hindsight, I really should have
been disappointed with the reality I found....within a few days I had
encountered suffering, marginalised communities, over worked staff and
failing systems. I arrived to a dirty run-down house with little to no food and
a bunch of people I didn't know. I was soon travelling in dangerously
dilapidated hospital cars to work in rundown buildings with dysfunctional
impoverished people.
So why was I so happy? Why did I want
to tell everyone how amazing it was? Why was I so eager to show my new home off
to anyone who dared to come and visit me?
Recent reflections on this craze of
"going rural" for com serve
have really made me wonder whether my overwhelming excitement and love for
being here was just a facade that I had created prior to actually
arriving. With the end of apartheid and the push for a more equitable
society, I was fed the rural dream within the first few days of stepping into
university in 2010. I read about inspiring people doing extraordinary
things in magically remote places. By that stage "going rural" had become a popular choice for many young health
professionals during their year of community service. Needless to say, I was
quickly infected by the bug and soon joined a rural medical society on my
campus. I began using some of my spare time to attend talks by rural doctors,
chat to older OTs about their rural experiences and even spent one holiday in
the middle of nowhere volunteering in a rural hospital. But all these
experiences only made the desire to "go
rural" that much more enriching. I was hooked.
But now, even as the months have worn
on, am I too darn stubborn to see the obvious disappointments surrounding me?
Have I refused to submit to an alternative, darker reality than the bright
sparkly one that had been built during my time at university? Maybe Ispeak
so highly of rural because speaking about the good moments makes the bad ones
seem okay. Maybe I over-compensate for all the heart-wrenching experiences and fool
myself into believing that the few magical moments make it all worth
while...maybe they really do.
Granted, there are days when my heart
just can't seem to conceptualise the depth of suffering that is experienced by
some of the community members out here. There are days when I really don't feel
like working. There are days when I wish I was somewhere else... where the
struggles of working within this kind of context were only read about in
foreign newspapers. There are days when I just don't want to get out of
bed or when returning to the hospital after lunch feels like the toughest
mission in the world.
But those days and few and far between.
On those days there is usually something else bothering me.... Something that
has nothing to do with living rural... Something that would have made me feel
like that no matter where I was. Never once have I questioned my decision of
coming to live in Manguzi. If anything, my choice of working here has been more
and more affirmed with each passing month.
Because as much as this place is filled with disappointments, there really is something magical about it. I experience such a sense of peace and contentment both at work and the rest of the time that I can't help but think that I was not fed ridiculous lies at varsity.... Everything people spoke about came true. My experience this year has far exceeded my very high expectations and I can't help but encourage others to join the rural clan. You won't regret it.
The choice to come out here is not an easy one and choosing to stay on long-term is far more difficult than walking away from one exquisite year in the bush. As in all things, the rural experience is what you make of it and if you dare to seek out beauty in negative spaces, I can assure you...you will not be disappointed.
November Memories...
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| Kelly, our Speechie, held an art evening for some of the Manguzi ladies at our house |
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| I attended the spectacularly beautiful and outrageously fun wedding of my dear friends Gill and Carl. What a fantastic couple they make!! |
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| Zenia, our Speech Therapist, spending quality time with Sphelele, one of our delights in paeds ward |
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| Pumi, our Occupational Therapy Assistant (OTA) running an aerobics class in the MDR TB ward |
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| Precious, another OTT, bringing patients to the aerobics class. People can participate from the comfort of their own wheelchair! |
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| Meat on the braai at one of the farewell parties we had with the nurses earlier this month |
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| A spontaneous visit by my good friends Denny, Reah and Sean was a wonderful excuse to get away to Black Rock Beach for a weekend! |
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| OTs UNITE! Our OT clan had a group reunion whilst paddling down the pongola river n Norther KZN |
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| Sammy, one of our guides paddling quietly passed some cows taking a refreshing dip in the river |
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| Kelly and Kati stayed on to visit the marvelous Kosi Bay Mouth - what a treat to show them my home! |
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| The mandatory picture at the drift wood tree at Kosi Bay Mouth |
