Caring

Life is funny. One day it provides you with so many people and experiences, and the next can be void of the human touch. It’s Friday again, the day without classes for me, and I’ve been sitting here not doing much. You can call it convalescence. I call it boredom. I have successfully eaten breakfast and lunch and taken a shower. I finished another book, this one by the Intercultural Press called Into Africa. Most recently, I checked my emails until the power went out. I am not leaving the apartment today because I was ordered to rest for three days by the doctor. Yesterday morning I was walking home from work. The boulevard has a median with only one lane on its western side and three lanes on its eastern side. The tricky thing though, is that there are two lanes for each direction of traffic. After crossing the first lane and reaching the median, you still have another lane with traffic coming in the same direction, and then two more lanes with opposite moving traffic, yet with no median separating them from oncoming traffic. A strange system to say the least. I crossed the first lane, mounted the median, but forgot to look to my left and only looked to the right for oncoming traffic. No sooner than I stepped down, I was struck by a fast moving mini-pickup that propelled me into a somersault in the air. I came crashing down on the pavement in front of the vehicle and blacked out. I came to after a minute or two, but still had the wind knocked out of me. A crowd had already formed, many individuals coming to my aid, checking to see that I could move. It was surreal. Needless to say, just this writing exercise is surreal. After a couple minutes, the driver of the vehicle helped me up and into his vehicle. Witnesses gave their names and wanted to come along to make sure I would be taken to the hospital. In the end, I murmured to take me home. The thought of being in a hospital in a foreign country, with foreign languages and faces, and possible interminable waits--as I already had surmised that my situation was not life-threatening--would be too much to handle. The man and his brother drove me home, all the while being in a state of numbness and shock. When we arrived, he helped me out of the car, and I quickly spotted Zacheria, my dear friend and building security guard. Zach came over and I motioned to the man to explain to Zach what had happened. Zach displayed great attention and concern. He took the man’s contact information, as the man offered to come back to take me to the hospital if desired. Zach walked me upstairs to my apartment, helped me to the bed, brought me water and an ice pack for the bump on my head, then went about contacting a doctor. Here, there is a service called SOS Medecin, where a doctor will come and make a housecall upon request. Zach was steadfast in checking on me while waiting for the doctor downstairs, and requesting and waiting for the driver to return to bring money to cover my doctor and prescription fees. The doctor came and determined that I had suffered shock and bruises. He suggested that I have some xrays taken of my neck and back. I am scheduling an appointment as I write this entry. Meanwhile, my friend Abdoulaye had called just to say hello. When I told him what had happened, he said he would come over immediately after work. So, around 6 p.m., both Zach and Abdoulaye were here to make sure I had everything I needed. Shortly thereafter, the driver who hit me, called to check up on me. So, in the midst of a potential tragedy, I was showered with such caring, compassionate people. Zach informed me that he wouldn’t see me today, as right before my accident, he received word that a family member had died in another city, and he would be gone the next two days for the funeral. Abdoulaye offered to stay the night, and said he would be back later today. I received concerned calls or visits from five other people. I’m fine. In the big scheme of things, the story could have ended very differently. I’m so fortunate. And most of all, I am blessed, that in this country, communal living is not just a term used in the tourism books, but is one that came to life so fully when mine was threatened.
Thank you.