Patience of Africa

I wondered recently why doctors clients are called patients. I wondered as I waited for an hour for my doctor who was running late as he is given to listening to his patients, if it was because we the patients, need to be patient.But I had a new perspective today.

I had to have an EEG today and there is only one place in Harare (and probably the whole country) where this can be done - the main government hospital, the Pari to locals but really called The Parirenyatwa Hospital. This hospital has suffered terribly from the ravages of super hyper inflation, of mismanagement, of just so much. I was anxious a little about the procedure, and the hospital itself. I arrived on time, found the relevant department, surprised at the helpfulness of the staff I enquired of directions from. Such helpfulness to a white person from a government employee is not the norm. 

When I finally arrived at the correct place I was bemused to see a sign reading EEG, EKG, and DENTAL CLINIC. Interesting combination I thought.

I found the right place and joined a queue of some half dozen people. Thinking to myself that here was  patience in Africa. Queues for services are the same all over the continent. Poor people, for the most part, queue endlessly, not sure that they will get service or even that the service offered is able to be provided. Perhaps the machine will be broken, perhaps the technician is on a go slow, maybe there will be no drugs or no money to treat the illness, maybe there will be no electricity, maybe we will never know why we don't get served. I took my place on the ubiquitous brown benches, so familiar from the continents colonial heritage and dug out my book, for I had come prepared. My bag held book, MP3, water, sweets and biscuits. I know that appointments don't mean a great deal usually. One queues and one takes one's turn

Patience. Acceptance.

Small children ahead of me regarded with wide eyes. So I dug out some sweets. They grinned hugely. 

A young man came out of an office to attend to us. He established that those ahead of me wanted the dentist and not the EEG department. Suddenly, unexpectedly I was the only person in the queue. This same polite young man assisted me in filling out the form, making payment, and in waiting for my turn. The hospital might be tired and worn but it was spotlessly clean and does its best under extreme pressure on its resources. Much like all the people I encountered, polite, helpful, caring.

I wondered again at my expectations of being served, and those of the poor people around me. I wondered at my ingratitude and at their gratitude.

Patience. Acceptance.

Prayer in action. I think I saw it today.