Sylvia's Journal

I am writing while it is still dark outside so I cannot see the Cardinal that is chirping excitingly outside the window. It is one of our resident Cardinal families that are flitting around our yard in their red (and brown) splendor.

Nuha wrote me an email over the weekend with the words ‘We Will Fly!’ in the subject line. That we will is now beyond doubt. It will start with an introductory flight over Essex County, sometime in the next month. If she likes it, Bill and I will take her along on one of our 3 hour trips across New England in the next few months. The plane jumping she wants to do will have to wait; this is the best I can offer.

Nuha’s email also contained a more authoritative translation of her Arabic poem that emerged in a traffic jam in heavy rain driving from Boston to Lincoln. Such is the force of poetry. Emerson once wrote, “If a man doesn’t write his poetry it escapes by other vents from him.” He did not know this at the time but it applies equally to women. I know this from experience, and, clearly, Nuha knows this too. I just discovered that she has posted it as a comment, on this blog. As soon as I get it I will add a picture of her in her black robes in the desert. Although the picture may give the impression that she is from another world, her poem shows that where she’s lives, far from wet-green-lush Boston, there are men and women with the same hopes, dreams and aspirations as we have. It reveals a characteristic of the human tribe that is often overlooked.

We entered week four of the BU course with a reflection on last week’s classes and how they had affected the students. I was pleased to hear that many of the topics had seeped into their personal lives – making requests versus complaints, inquiry over advocacy, how we react to changes, etc. After that we watched, some of us for the second time, the HBO movie Yesterday and talked about its relevance for our professional careers. I called it the 1 foot view, in contrast to the 30.000 foot view about international health, money flows and donor coordination that we were served next by MSH’s President and another BU prof.

With the Ethiopia trip cancelled I am starting to focus on the next trip, early September, to the Ivory Coast where I will be working with a dear friend, Oumar, from Guinea. We will take a group of people that usually has only a 30.000 foot view on Aids, Malaria and TB and bring them down to the 1 foot view. I am looking forward to the trip, especially because of Oumar, who I have not seen in years. We have both survived accidents that most other people do not survive so I think we were fated to work together once more.

Axel and I had driven in together in the morning, too early for Axel’s liking but nice enough for me. He started yet another therapy, this time vestibular therapy at MGH to help him recover from the dizzy spells he sometimes has. He returned home by train and helped Tessa and Steve move into their ultra clean studio. All the cat hair and cat smells have been professionally removed by a Portuguese couple that spent most of the day on this job. I got to see the results of all this activity late in the afternoon, sitting in a chair in the beautiful later afternoon sun with a beer in hand, watching the young birds make their nest.

Tessa and I tried to go for a swim but, against all predictions, the water was too cold to swim across the cove. A quick dip was all I could handle. We had dinner by the cove just as the mosquitoes and biting flies came out, and then served ourselves a desert of fresh raspberries straight from the bush. That is when we discovered the havoc wrecked by a baby bunny that appears to have made its home under the straw that covers the potato plants. It has been systematically removing anything green from our garden. This requires some urgent action which seems to be only on my priority list (somehow the place is called ‘my garden’). I fear that when I get to it (we will be away this weekend) it may be too late.