Es ist immer wieder herrlich Sonnenaufgänge zu beobachten. Dieses Mal sollte die Sonne direkt über dem See aufgehen. Leider störten ein paar Wolken den perfekten Sonnenaufgang, die Stimmung war aber trotzdem wunderschön.

Nach dem Frühstück besichtigten wir das Dörfchen, welches nur 10 000 Einwohner hat, Hot Sand Bay. Der Name leitet sich davon ab, das im Sommer der Sand so heiss wird, das man ohne Schuhe nicht über den Sand gehen kann. Das Dorf liegt direkt an der Senga Bay. Im Wesentlichen ist es ein Fischerdorf. Uns wurde aber auch vorgeführt, wie talentiert die Einheimischen in der Holzschnitzereien und Verarbeitung sind. Und das noch ganz altertümlich ohne Strom und mit altem Werkzeug

Für die Kinder im Dorf ist es ein Highlight weisse Menschen zu sehen. Sie Strömten in Scharen um uns herum und wollten immer fotografiert werden. Wenn an ihnen dann das Foto zeigte, strahlen sie richtig und freuen sich.

Das Dorf lebt sehr einfach, in den meisten Häusern gibt es keine Elektrizität. Die Häuser sind aus Lehm und Schlamm gebaut und die Dächer sind aus Stroh.

Doch sind die Menschen in diesem Dorf sehr höflich und freundlich.

Am Strand werden die Fischerboote gebaut und repariert. Alles wird von Hand gemacht, ohne elektrische Hilfsmittel. Auch Pläne und Massangaben brauchten sie nicht, es passte alles irgendwie.

Auf grossen Tischen wird der Fang der letzten Nacht getrocknet, während die Fischer ihre Netze flickten.

Am Strand spielten auch ganz viele Kinder während die Eltern Kleider wuschen oder sonst einer Beschäftigung nachgingen.

Zurück zum Campingplatz ging es dann mit einem typischen Taxi für Malawi.

Am Nachmittag stand Schnorcheln im Lake Malawi auf dem Programm. Mit einem Fischerboot ging es raus auf eine Insel du rein ins nasse Vergnügen. Im Vergleich zu den Meerfischen waren die Fische hier eher etwas langweilig, doch auch sie hatten ihre Reize. Was halt einfach fehlten waren die Wasserpflanzen.

Am Abend brachte unser Guide, welcher Fussballtrainer der lokalen Mannschaft war, seine Jungs auf eine Runde Beach-Soccer mit. Die Jungs wahren ganz schön gut (oder ich einfach schlecht =P) und es wurde ein richtig intensiver lustiges Spiel.

Aber es ist gar nicht so einfach auf Sand zu spielen und es braucht eine gute Kondition.

Vacation!

The last days of the internship are coming to an end and unfortunately they are very intense once again, many things are just going so wrong: people come very late to the hospital, there is a shortage of almost everything, strong painkillers are hardly used and the care provided by the staff is simply inadequate. Although the people are so friendly and empathetic, a human life is not worth much here, or death is simply more common in everyday life. So on the last day, we have to inform a pregnant woman in her 7th month that her baby is dead and a woman dies on the way to the ultrasound, which is 6 hours late.

Nevertheless, we shake it off and say goodbye to the patients we were able to help. Because now Jessi is finally coming to Malawi and we want to go on vacation in this beautiful country. So the four of us set off: David, with whom I shared a room for 5 weeks, Johannes, a friend of his from Germany, Jessi and me. Funny enough, Jessi and Johannes arrive in Malawi almost at the same time. One of Jessi's suitcases is missing when she arrives and there is no more paper for the visas for the two of them, so unfortunately we have to go to the airport again two days later. But first we pick up our car from the Beit Cure Clinic in Blantyre, where they rent cars at a cheap price. I have booked a Toyota Land Cruiser and we are all very excited. When we see that we get the ambulance with a siren, loudspeaker and warning light on the roof, we are even more thrilled and honk like crazy. Driving on the left side of the road is strange, but you get used to it quickly. First, we go to a well-known doctor couple of David's, where we are spoiled with a large pool and good food, then we go to Phalombe and show Jessi and Johannes the hospital and hand over the suitcase with medical supplies that Jessi brought. In the evening, we are invited to a farewell dinner at a clinic staff member's house, and our guests get to taste the local "Nsima" with fish, but the enthusiasm is limited. Nevertheless, it is a great evening with good conversations. We have a lot planned for the week and it is going to be an absolutely amazing time: we go to national parks together, lie on the roof of the car and admire African wildlife, including on the last day, when Jessi and I are alone, a huge herd of 17 elephants just a few meters away from our car. We drive to Lake Malawi and go snorkeling, we treat ourselves to a bonfire on the beach with candles and ukulele sound, and enjoy the good Malawian gin. It is currently off-season and Malawi, which is not overly touristy anyway, feels almost empty. We live cheaply but still treat ourselves well. We buy fresh mangoes, passion fruits, bananas, avocados, pineapples, watermelons, etc. directly from the roadside. We cruise through the savannah with the Land Cruiser and all-wheel drive, getting stuck several times, but somehow we always manage to free ourselves, it's just wonderful. Finally, we visit a friend of Alex, my brother-in-law. She works here in an organization that has already established itself in 8 countries: the One-Dollar-Glasses project. With a machine, a frame is bent and lenses of different strengths are clipped in. The result is a high-quality, robust pair of glasses that is cheap to produce. Children get them for free, and many of them have the chance to go to school for the first time. We decide to end the nice meeting with a dinner at our backpacker hostel, and thus an amazing time in Malawi with many experiences comes to an end. Now we have a 23-hour trip to Germany ahead of us, with a sad eye I leave, but I am already looking forward to family, friends, and my own bed without a mosquito net!

Last weekend we went to Lake Malawi to Cape Maclear to relax a bit and celebrate a farewell, as the first two are leaving again. It's really fantastic here, but it's a strong contrast to what we see in Phalombe. It's basically Malawi's tourist hotspot (but there's not even a supermarket here, no electricity either, the bar runs on a generator, all in all Cape Maclear consists of a few straw huts) and as a result, the culture is somewhat lost. Someone is constantly trying to sell you something, I'm getting a pair of shorts tailored to measure for about 8 euros (probably totally overpriced) because my swim trunks didn't survive the mountain climb. The nice thing is that everything is quite cheap: you pay about 4 euros for a dinner with a drink and dessert in a restaurant, and a night in a straw hut with showers and even a pool costs 5.60 euros. Time passes quickly and on Sundays we drive back to the hospital, where we have to deal with power outages or water shortages every day, or both, so we almost only cook over the fire and for the shower I cut holes in the lid of a 5-liter canister.

Meanwhile, a kind of everyday life has set in, we can integrate quite well into the clinic, examine the patients and discuss the cases together with the clinical officers. We visit a kindergarten and bring frisbees and every day children come by and want to hang out with us.

There is officially a doctor at the Holy Family Hospital, but he hasn't been here for six months because he is on some further training. Apparently, the status of the hospital is now so bad that an outreach is necessary. Once a month, doctors and surgeons from the 70km away Zomba Central Hospital come here to see the difficult patients and last Friday it was time again. We are excited and join the doctors, and are surprised how well medicine can work in Malawi. The local clinical officers know about the common diseases, but they don't have the broad overview of medical training. The patients are brought in and for the first time we also see patients with cancer, including a lymphoma and another cancer in a very unpleasant place on the man. It is very interesting and we resolve to examine the patients even more closely from now on. Unfortunately, no surgeries are performed because there are not enough infusion solutions available.

On Sunday we attend the service of the local Catholic Church, which dates back to colonial times. I really like the service, even though I don't understand anything. Apart from the liturgy, you could think you're in an international charismatic community in Germany, the mood is so good. Although I can't sing along, I follow the other worshippers and dance a little, no one laughs at me, which is already a great success for me. After the service, a white woman comes up to us, who introduces herself as an Italian doctor. She works here in an NGO (Non-Governmental-Organization) for a few days and invites us to eat with her. She cooks real Italian food and I remember how good pasta can taste. We talk a little more and exchange numbers, and she wants to come to the hospital on Monday and help us with an HIV patient. It's a very pleasant afternoon and with the coming week I'm already starting the last quarter of the internship.

I'm very happy that I bought a book in Germany to learn the local language: Chichewa. As almost always, language is the key to people. And in Malawi especially. Just a few words and phrases are enough to make the patients in the hospital incredibly happy and I can reduce fears and reservations. But it's also great for the hospital staff, they feel honored that a white person is learning/speaking their language, and the fact that there is a book in German about Chichewa is already the first topic of conversation. We get to know the people and are invited to eat twice. I am very happy about that because I find it really interesting to get to know the "real" culture in Malawi. Here is a brief comparison of what our student house looks like: we have two beds and a shelf in the rooms, in the kitchen there is a sink and also a shelf with old pots and an old external hob with two hotplates. There is even a refrigerator. Everything is a bit dirty, rundown, not luxurious, but you can still withstand it quite well. I don't have high demands.

But then I was quite surprised by the people here: there are hardly any furniture, no tables, no cutlery, no shelves, just a few chairs. And a large open space in the middle of the "living room". The food is then served as follows: the food is placed on the floor and plates are brought. Then the host goes around in a circle and washes the guests' hands. There is almost always only "Nsima", which is water with maize powder and tastes like nothing. Everyone gets a big spoonful on their plate and then you can load up the side dishes, such as small dried fish in sauce, tomatoes, beans, egg, okra, etc. Food is eaten with the right hand, a ball of Nsima is formed and then a hole is pressed into it. With this "spoon" you scoop up the side dish and then put it in your mouth. Since the whole hand is covered with food afterwards, the host goes around again for hand washing. There is water to drink. We wanted to bring something special as a gift and bought 8 bottles of cola, but that didn't go down well. It was only drunk out of politeness.

At first, I felt really sorry for them, but I believe that the richness of the people lies in their relationships with each other. Almost everything people own can be bought directly on the street, just like everyday life on the street: hairdresser, tailor, etc. But nobody cares about that here, or so it seems. It is much more important to sit together, talk and laugh, and help each other. They are probably happier than many Europeans, and one thing I have already noticed - I will miss the friendliness of the people here, greeting each other and briefly talking about how they are doing and what they are doing, it's somehow nice. Most people are also always interested, because there are hardly any tourists, at least here in Phalombe. So far, we have only met one Frenchman who has been here for almost two years. He was very excited to see other white people and immediately made an appointment to meet us.

However, the simple way of life also poses dangers, as many people do not have a stove, so cooking is done over an open fire. That is why there are many patients in the hospital with extremely large and heavy burns. Other typical problems are: tuberculosis, HIV, malaria, malnutrition (especially in children), pneumonia, and the classic: abscess. This is certainly not for everyone, when 1 liter of pus is drained from the maxillary sinus. The patient is happy, suddenly he can speak again. So there are a lot of things that make it hard for me to breathe, whether it's the two-year-old child in the final stage of AIDS and opportunistic tuberculosis, severe pneumonia that drives the patient to the brink of absolute exhaustion, compound fractures due to domestic violence, countless infections, and so on. For the most part, the clinical officers know what to do, the problem is just that everything takes incredibly long. One hand doesn't know what the other is doing, an indication for surgery gets lost or the anesthesiologist goes to eat. A woman comes and it quickly becomes clear that an emergency caesarean section needs to be performed, it is 7 o'clock. Around 10:30, it is finally time and the child has actually survived, we breathe a sigh of relief and are happy, the operator wonders, he didn't know it was an emergency. The mother is emotionally shattered, but she is only 15 years old. Almost all mothers are between 14 and 20, the older ones probably give birth at home as experienced ones. The patients are taken care of by the "guardians," who are family members. The nursing staff actually only prepare the medications or change dressings.

So the days pass quite quickly here and I often smile at what you see here every day, how people work and live: most people always have somewhere to go, on foot or by bicycle, with huge loads of wood, cans, goats, etc. strapped on the back. Sometimes also on a moped, then an old construction helmet is often used as a motorcycle helmet, with a shoelace attached. Safety first. Next to us, a house is being "expanded." Half-crumbled bricks are used for this. There is no meter, spirit level, circular saw, or anything else that might be needed. The result looks like bacon, but it doesn't matter, the corrugated iron is crooked too. Further down on the hospital grounds, four men trim the grass, using machetes with bent tips to chop it. With this technique, they manage to create an area of about 20x20 square meters. Apparently, the scythe has not yet been invented here, and I haven't seen a Stihl distributor either. But, on the other hand, many people have found work in this way. They can then load the money onto their cell phone, which serves not only as credit for making calls but also as a kind of bank account.

Now half of the time at the hospital is almost over. I am still excited about the next few weeks!

After a long but smooth journey, I finally arrive in Blantyre, Malawi via Jeddah in Saudi Arabia, Addis Ababa in Ethiopia, Johannesburg in South Africa. Since it is the second largest city in Malawi, I expect a big airport, but when landing, I rather feel like I've arrived at a farm: there is only a narrow runway, the plane has to turn on the spot, and the tower looks like a rooftop. Upon arrival, I have to buy a visa for $75, I pay dutifully, and the officer tears off a piece of paper from his notebook and gives me the scrap of paper. Very official. Fortunately, the driver from the hospital is already waiting for me outside in the ambulance. Did the hospital not have an ambulance for almost a day? I feel guilty. Well, we're off to Phalombe in the southeast of the country, 5km away from the "Holy Family Mission Hospital". After about 2.5 hours, we arrive and I am warmly welcomed by the others who have already been here this month: two students, a gynecologist, a midwife, and an EMT. It feels a bit strange to be here now, it always felt so far away, but now I'm actually here. We go into the house and the first thing someone says is, "Oh, we have electricity!".

In fact, I find it difficult to settle in during the first few days, the culture shock is much bigger than expected and somehow many things are different than I expected. Things we take for granted become a problem: as mentioned before, the power often goes out, or you go to the toilet or take a shower and there's no water. It's very hot and due to the subtropical location, there is high humidity, I even sweat while sleeping. That means: always drink enough. But where to get water? Three other students from previous months have tried drinking the tap water and were punished with a week of diarrhea. I don't want that, so water has to be bought. But it's about 5km to Phalombe. You can walk or take a "bicycle taxi" (sitting on the luggage rack, apparently a common means of transportation here). But when I think about it, I feel like a white colonial lord, so I'll walk. For food, there's a small "market" right at the hospital with some bread-like rolls in plastic barrels and some vegetables and fruits. The internet to stay in touch with home through the SIM card doesn't work at all, and then it works very poorly. The nearest ATM is 2 hours away. And so on and so forth. So, there are many small and big problems here and there that make it harder to get started than I thought. But by now, I've been able to adapt a bit and it's actually working quite well and it's actually quite funny. With my dictionary, I'm trying to learn some Chichewa (the national language here) and to establish better contact with the people. I'm glad I'm not alone here, I have a good team here. Together, we went hiking in the adjacent Moulanje Mountains and four of us climbed the highest mountain in central Africa, Mount Sapitwa, which means 'don't go there!' It was very adventurous and exhausting, there are no proper trails, you always walk along the riverbed and when it rains heavily, the paths are impassable. On the way back, we stop at the Old Mans Falls and enjoy the refreshment.

And the hospital? For a medical student, it's incredibly interesting because here you see everything described in the textbooks. People only come to the hospital when it's really bad, so the condition is accordingly. Indolence takes on a new meaning here and death is part of everyday life. The injuries are incredibly serious and it's especially hard to see with the little children and your heart becomes heavy. You feel angry and sad at the same time, you want to help but unfortunately you can't do much. Because the "Clinical Officers" (employees with 3 years of training) may not have had as extensive an education as us students, but they know their field of expertise (pediatrics, men's health, women's health, and maternity ward) quite well. There are currently no doctors at the hospital.

Overall, based on first impressions, I have to say: Malawi is an extremely poor country, which is almost shocking to me how poor it is. But the people here seem to be mostly content, they are very laid-back and extremely friendly! Sure, you get weird looks and I can't stand being called Azungu (white foreigner) anymore, but it's easy to start a conversation and so far, almost everyone has been very nice and open. I'm curious to see what's to come, I'm very grateful for this experience, and I'm really looking forward to exploring the country with Jessi in 3 weeks!

PS: Apologies for the poor quality of the pictures, that's all the internet can handle here.

Mezgolich was offered the opportunity to work as a doctor in a hospital in Tanzania and was asked to look at several hospitals. The doctor flew to East Africa two days earlier and we - that was Sigfried Zapletal, Christine from the UN and I - were supposed to follow him. But we had a problem: Even though we had the tickets and the locations of the hospitals that could be visited, we didn't know how to get to the meeting points two weeks before departure.

But just as chance sometimes solved the problems itself, it also solved ours. At a meeting of "Les Autres" (a club based at the Schlumberger sparkling wine cellar at the time), our friend Proffessor Alt reported that he was in Tanzania over New Year's Eve and spent New Year's Eve with the honorary consul there. He gave us the email address and the next day we sent an email to the consul, who replied immediately. We emailed him the locations we wanted to visit and he put together a trip for us.

So we flew off and waited anxiously to see whether we were actually expected at the airport. After landing, we were happy to find that the consul was already waiting for us. For the first three days we got a driver who took us through the Mikumi National Park to Iringa. In Iringa a change of our guides was planned, which really worked. Manfred, a 21-year-old German, took over our small tour group. The German, who did his military service for a year as a volunteer in a hospital on Lake Malavi, stayed in Africa and intended - together with a Dutchman - to boost tourism in this part of the country.