always get a good dentist

in the old days

hello Larry, goodbye Tex

I  had a dream about my shower at home . I know that’s worrisome and maybe a little strange but I haven’t had a shower in a while and my shower at home is such a nice thing. Its new, shiny with glass walls and a shower head that is adjustable  with the option of holding it in your hand…like European showers. Barbara did all the ordering. I just inherited it.  As  they say you don’t what you got till its gone and I really miss my shower. Anyway, in my dream, I was in the shower and got out and stood on the green stone tile floor ( it might be marble, Barbara  ordered it)  it felt clean and safe  and there was nothing to worry about  and then I just got right back in the shower. It was warm and clean and safe and I think I stayed there a long time. It’s hard to tell time in a dream. But then I woke up and went to my “bathroom” here and I knew I wasn’t dreaming any more, but maybe in a nightmare.  In my bathroom there is no bath. there is a shower but it doesn't work. There is a toilet and even though it is "manual" ( you have to fill the tank by hand) its OK. I had the toilet seat delivered here from Mwanza in 2008. Since  the shower doesn't work I am very good with bucket baths, that is the standard here and that is just the way it is.

  The problem is I share my bathroom with others. They don’t care about the things I do, like cleanliness. Among the "others" that I can see one is a lizard/salamander/chameleon. He is really pretty cute. I know he is good because he eats other bugs and things  that I don't see. The less of us in here the better. I call him Larry but he doesn't respond to his name. Another one  is Tex. I call him Tex because he’s bigger then Texas. He is an NFL sized cockroach. He likes to hang out under my  toilet seat but I think he lives in the drain.Tex is not only big, he is fast. Really perfect NFL material. I am trying to be Buddhist about Tex but I don’t think it’s going to work out. Peaceful co- existence is not an option.  Not in my bathroom here and  not in the bathroom of my dreams. I think its going to be hello Larry, goodbye Tex.

Easter Sunday Morning Lake Victoria 2012

My Dedication

When I first came to tanzania in 2008 I was a different person and my world was a different place. I was married to a marvelous women. It was more then married, we actually felt star crossed. I mean we met hitchhiking in Vermont, I was 20, she was 18. And it really was a done deal at " hi where are you going?".

We were sure we were the luckiest people we knew but being human we didn't jump up and down and shout it to the world everyday. In addition to a life together,we made 2 trips to NW Tanzania, educated ourselves to what world poverty is, educated others, saved a life or two and planned to keep coming back because...well because we could. It really is that simple. Maybe it was a payback for our good fortune but really? what are you suppose to do here? We are here to make things better for ourselves and others . In that order, I assume.....

Anyway in Oct 2010 the bottom dropped out, the wheels fell off, the dream ended. Barbara died from untreatable triple negative breast cancer just 9 months after diagnosis and I found myself kicked out of the luckiest people in the world club. Traumatized, trunkated and eviscerated, for the first time in my life I felt old and very mortal.

I received lots of help and support but the best words that clicked with me where what my friend Jerry Doherty just sort of spontaneously blurted out in mid paragraph one day: " hey we are all just renters here man".

It has not slipped by me that it is 9 months since Barabara died and that it was 9 months between her diagnosis and her death. There is symmetry in life ....and death. Will I close the loop? Pick up my guts? Pack them back in, heal my wounds,stand up and walk, and be left with my scars? This is my story.

I dedicate this journey of healing to Barbara. The journey will not just be the next 3 months in NW Tanzania, it will be the rest of my life. How long is that? Who knows? Some times measurement of time is meaningless. Maybe I will take it in 9 month segments. After all we are just renters here.

Diving In....in slow motion or, karibu Tanzania

Sometimes when people come back from assignments over seas or deployments to different cultures they reenter slowly and with support and guidance. What is sometimes called re-immersion therapy. Maybe to prevent or treat post traumatic culture shock. I am initiating a new preemptive treatment called

PRE -IMMERSION culture shock therapy. Its really quite simple. Go to the country your are about to be immersed in and just sit there. Don't do anything, just be with the new culture and its people. Forget your schedule, your appointments, your expectations. Just be there,in the now, in the moment. If its really a different place( like Tanzania) you will stand out and people , being universally inquisitive by nature, will be drawn to you. I did my first session in Dar esa Salaam( like Jerusalam) airport the other day on my way to Mwanza. My flight was repeatedly delayed and I spent 11 hrs just sitting in the departure terminal.We were never told why; its all part of the therapy. It's not a comfortable place, its noisy, hot and stinky and and there is no first class lounge or club and that is all part of the unproven therapeutic effect. People stare a little, little kids stare a lot and come up to you and sat" mzugu" Later on, around 10pm when all the other flights had left and there were only passingers on my flight left and the lights kept going off and on, we all bonded no matter what our race and culture and entered sort of a survivor mode. By this time the only lights working in the terminal were those soft yellow sodium lamps they use in the parking lots in places like Newark Airport. It created sort of a surreal sepia environment. When I am in that light for a while something happens to me and I enter sort of a slow motion world, as if I was traveling in hyperspace and time itself actually slows down ( try to figure that one out). Again, this is all part of the therapy. I, for one, was convinced we were never going to get out of there that night. I wasn't alone and as the minutes and hrs ticked by and the sepia sunk in we started little conversations and became a survivor tribe....an airport survivor tribe.

We finally took off into the African night in a twin engine propeller plane for a 2 hrs flight thru thunder storms, fear and doubt to Mwanza. When we landed we felt like we had survived together, no matter what your backround, race, creed, color or culture. After a total of 13 hours of "therapy" the last thing on my mind as I picked up my bags in Mwanza was culture shock. I, along with my new tribe, were aware of only the strong desires to get off our butts, get horizontal and fall asleep. See, I knew this would work......its all part of the the therapy.

Karibu (welcome to) Tanzania.

Project Tanzania

Dear Colleague: June, 2010

Since I have returned from my year off I have remained in contact, on weekly basis, with Biharamulo Hospital, the hospital I worked at for 3 months in Tanzania. It's a poor, needy place where adults, children and babies die everyday and night... many of them from lack of simple preventative health care. Recently, my former boss, mentor and Chairman of Thoracic Surgery at Maine Medical Center went there at my urging. He came back speechless. He's been around the world, but admitted that Biharamulo Hospital is one of the most needy places he's seen yet.

I plan to return there in late 2011. In the meantime I have been busy with my brother and a friend in Vermont with an assistance program we call "Project Tanzania". Our primary project involves sending a 40 ft. shipping container to Biharamulo Hospital. We have collected hospital and medical equipment from Rutland Hospital in Vermont and from Maine Medical Center and Partnership for World Health here in Portland. It's a big deal; 35 hospital beds and mattresses, wheelchairs, walkers and crutches and about 50 giant tupperware crates full of medical supplies. We have, for the most part, steered away from electronic equipment because electricity is on only about 1/2 of the time and no one can fix electronic equipment after it breaks. Picture this: Biharamulo Hospital has no washing machine that works. Remember this is a 120-bed hospital in the jungle in Africa, where diarrhea is common, with lots of laundry, all of which is washed by hand!

Now for the hard part. The cost of ocean and land transportation for the 40 ft. shipping container to Biharamulo is about $10,000. The trip will take about 3 months. We need your contribution to make Project Tanzania a success. Remember, success cannot be achieved by simply saying you care.

You can make a tax-deductible contribution to The Sandy Christman Foundation, which is the funding vehicle for Project Tanzania in two ways:

1) Go to our website www.sandychristman.org and hit the Donate with Amazon icon or...

2) Send your tax deductible check to:

The Sandy Christman Foundation

PO Box 10405

Portland, ME 04104

If you want to know more about Biharamulo go to our blog: www.barbaraandlarry.blogspot.com.

Thanks in advance for helping us with this valuable project. As the people in Biharamulo say in Swahili "twaweza"

( we can make it happen).

Sincerely, Larry Adrian PS To see more pictures go to BLOG ARCHIVE

to read posts go to 2008,2009

HELP WITH PROJECT TANZANIA!: PLEASE CONTRIBUTE TO PROJECT TANZANIA BY GOING TO

www.sandychristmanfoundation.org and donating at the yahoo donation site. Thanks, Larry and Barbra