A Sad story...Part 1

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Saving a Life
Friday, January 19, 2008

Today. My plans were to relax somewhat. I work at the school three days a week, and today is one of my days off.

Today. Meet with a friend in the morning, maybe run some errands in the afternoon, and DEFINITLEY get a nap in before I pick up the kids from school at 2. I think I provide God endless amusement. I know he laughs when I make plans since He is able to see what will really happen. I, on the other hand, have no clue whatsoever and just go about my business like I am in control. Yeah, right.

Today. I did get the chance to chat with my friend for awhile. After she left, it was still early enough in the day not to be too hot, so I thought I’d take the dogs to the beach to run a bit. Bilali and I pile the 3 big dogs into the car and set out. We arrive at our usual off-the-beaten-track spot and wrestle the excited doggies out. As we approach the beach, there is a sense of unrest. I hear a dog barking off to the left, which is unusual, and see some people standing and looking out to the water. As Bilali and I reach the crest of the dune, I see the source of the unrest. A group of dogs is mauling a man in the water! Without thinking, I hand my leash to Bilali and run as fast as I can to the ugly scene. Bilali said “No, Mama!” to stop me, but that was as futile as halting diarrhea mid-stream. No one else was within 100 feet of this poor man and dogs. The Tanzanian fear of dogs is primal, running deep in their souls. The absurdity of the scene in hindsight is almost humorous, if not for the man’s misfortune. Little 100lb me, running straight for a pack of 9 dogs while many burly men stood off in the distance watching. As I got close to the man, I could see he was entangled in one of the dogs’ chains. I began shouting at the dogs and grabbing fur and flesh, getting them off, and for whatever reason, they listened to me. I hesitate to think that my doggie “No” voice is really that intimidating. All the other dogs backed off except the one that was entangled. He was the biggest (of course), and looked upset and maybe a bit scared. The man was bleeding from every part of his body, unprotected flesh oozing from his legs and arms. His ear was mostly torn off and his eyes were unable to open. His one arm was bleeding heavily, even his privates were bleeding! I managed to roll the guy over a bit, out of the water and out of the chain. Still none of those guys would help. Bilali was frantically trying to tie up my 3 dogs and come to help me. I was screaming for people to help and no one would come. I had to hold the big dog off, but I knew I needed to stop that bleeding. I ran with the dog up to the nearest house while also yelling at the other dogs to back off. They at least seemed to follow the one on the chain and did not return to harass the injured man. I tied the dog to a fence post and ran back to the man. I was trying to use my dress to mop up the dripping blood and sand from his arm and pinpoint the source of the bleeding. He was a mess. Bilali came and others followed, finally. I asked Bilali for his shirt so I could tie up the wound on the man’s arm. Using my dress, I covered his mutilated ear which was the next worst bleed. I cradled his head in my hands and I prayed aloud for him. I laid my head on his and begged for God’s help. He was in shock, but able to talk and was speaking so quickly and so much that I couldn’t fully understand what he was saying. I kept trying to quiet him, and praying for God to help him. I asked about a doctor and one of the guys said he called someone and that help was coming. Having lived in this country for 2 ½ years, I knew that this means absolutely nothing. Someone had the good idea to move the guy off the beach and out of the sun. About six guys started to carry him. I went into the ocean, dress and all to wash off all the blood from my arms, legs, face, and clothes. As the group got close to the one house, the dogs attacked again and the men dropped the wounded man on the ground and were ready to flee. Luckily, I was able to get there quick enough to yell and gesture to the dogs. They backed off before more damage was done. My mind is still reeling from the intensity of the Tanzanians’ fear of dogs. A fear so great that they would let a brother die rather than help him.

As the group set the man down near the house, I remembered that I know a family nearby. I ran and banged on their gate, and Jan, (a pilot) was dressed for work. I didn’t even say hello, I just sort of spewed out a plea for help, asking if he could take this guy to the hospital. Thankfully, he was willing to. As the group loaded the man into Jan’s car, I went back to the beach to wash off, get my shoes and dogs. As Bilali and I headed back to the car, people were saying thank you. I didn’t want to hear it. I was angry (which is usually my first reaction to something stressful, but at least it gets me motivated!!!) One man even tried to say that they were unable to help because they are poor and don’t have things. At the time, I wanted to spit out to him….”you have arms and legs, don’t you?” In hindsight, I am so glad I didn’t. Bilali tried to explain to me that people are afraid to get a dog bite, which many times people here die from. It makes sense…infection sets in, etc, etc. Me, being the wealthy mzungu (white person), the thought never crossed my mind. I know that if I get bitten, I can afford the good health care to become well again. Also, injury and death are a part of everyday life here. Most people look out for their own daily survival. I will never truly understand how lucky I am to be born a middle class American. I guess I need to be reminded time and time again. Guess God had more in store for me today than a nap!