A Tough Week

This is what I came here to do.  That doesn't make it any easier.

On Monday, we flew to the town of Kasane in the middle of the night to pick up two victims of a car crash - one with a broken femur, the other with both head and internal injuries.

On Thursday, news came that five men had been terribly burned out in the Kalahari desert, near the town of Hukuntsi, after they'd been trapped between converging bush fires.  During this season, we often see these lines of fire, sometimes extending for miles, while flying at night - eerily beautiful dull orange slashes through the bush.  Never had I imagined the nightmares they could produce.  We launched from Gaborone into the ominous dark sky, timing our departure so that we would touch down on the unlit, unpaved airstrip precisely at sunrise.  Out of the ambulance came a horror of charred flesh, second and third degree burns covering more than three quarters of their bodies.  We did our best to put down the incongruous mixture of revulsion and compassion that we felt upon the sight of these poor men, and to concentrate on our jobs - getting them back to medical care in Gaborone.  The last news I heard was that they were being cared for at the new private hospital here in town.  Two had died; three were still hanging on to life.

On Friday, it was up to Kasane again to pick up the German victim of an elephant attack.

How does that old Peace Corp recruiting line go?  Something like "the toughest job you'll  ever love."  I can't come up with a better description of my work here in Botswana.