Fanan in the village

Our days in our former station seem sometimes like a distant memory but I was struck by a reminder recently of my time there. On occasion, I would find myself out in the hospital we operated, playing the guitar for the patients at night. I would go from ward to ward playing songs in hopes of easing the suffering of the patients and bringing good cheer. On one of these nights I remember playing for a child who had been admitted for malnutrition. During the day when I had visited the doctor as he was doing the rounds, the child was lethargic: typical of children in her state. Later at night when I went to visit I brought my guitar and started playing for the patients. First, for the men in the men's ward and then I moved into the women's ward to share some music. I got to this child and her mother and started playing. To my surprise, the child started responding to the music, moving, bouncing up and down in her mother's arms as I was strumming away. It was a touching scene which I will likely never forget. The sad end to this story is that the child never made it. I can only hope that the bit of joy that I brought through the gift of music will have sent them off in good spirits.

Last week, I visited one of our other sites where we are conducting a number of our medical work. Among them is a nutrition village started for children suffering from malnutrition. There were three children there being cared for by our nurses when I visited. One of them was a child from a Fulani tribe originally from West Africa. As I entered the nutrition village compound, they were sitting under the tree: the coolest place you could find. I greeted them as the nurse I was with started to go to work. As we started to talk in Arabic, the father was able to voice how cold it got at night and that he would appreciate a blanket for himself and his wife. I was able to convey this message to our nurses who do not speak Arabic. The baby was called Yacoub which is the Arabic name for Jacob. The other children at the village where from families in the area.

Later at night, I went and visited the nutrition village with the station guitar and started playing. People would welcome me with "Fadl fanan!": a welcome to the musician. I sat with them at night and played a number of songs; some in Arabic others in English. Some songs were ones that had translations in many languages and so, as I sang in English, others sang in their local dialects. I remembered my time at my first station and had so much more hope for these children in this village. I always wonder if I will ever bump into these children again when they grow older. Now, at least he'll have a chance to grow into a young man.