quiz: What's the leading cause of death in sub-Saharan Africa?

Yesterday the newer volunteers and I went to the main regional hospital, although the doctors were too busy to show us around (we will go back on Friday) from what we saw of the place it was staggering that people could go there and get better. It was really dirty and open, it seemed impossible that it ever could be clean enough to help people that are ill. Unless you have (and have been tested) for HIV/AIDS, you must pay for medical treatment. In Tanzania, about 20% of the population live on less than US$1 a day, the World Bank's official definition of 'absolute poverty'. Having lived here for a few weeks now, it seems unbelievable that people can survive on that little, and even more impossible that they could pay for medical expenses. I would say on average I'm spending about $15 a day and I don't think I'm spending a huge amount (that's not including travel costs or accomodation).

After the hopital visit in the morning I taught my afternoon nursery class. This class is a lot bigger than the morning class and much harder to keep them all focussed. I am really happy that I have Matungwa, Joyce and Molokus, all Hisani kids, in the class and I'm getting to know them much better. Matungwa is painfully shy and extremely skinny, but he really beams whenever he's given the slightest attention. He's been at the orphanage since the beginning of the year and despite eating tons according to Grace, he's not putting on any weight. Marwa) is also in my class and he's really been coming out of himself this week. Before the volunteers arrived at the Centre, Marwa used to just sit on the ground every day and not really communicate with anyone. This week he's joined in quite a lot and has coloured in some really wonderful pictures in class.

Last night 11 of the 12 volunteers went out to the Chinese place for dinner, which made me feel guilty again, for the above reasons. We had a really nice meal together and piled into two cabs home to go home. Our cab driver seemed fairly relaxed and friendly. We asked him to stop somewhere so that the Irish and Ozzie contingent could buy a few beers for the road, and set off again. As we wound through the backstreets of Mwanza I asked the others what the driver was smoking, as it seemed a bit stronger than a cigarrette. A little while later on the main road my question was answered. We were flying down the road, when all of us spotted a car stopped on the road, all of us except the cab driver. He continued to accelerate towards it until we were a couple of hundred feet from it when he slammed on the brakes. It felt like everything was in slow motion as we skidded towards the car in front, our driver jerked to the side and over the concrete barriers missing by centimetres the open drain on the side of the road and the car in front. We all thought we were going to die so were very relieved to come out unscathed... it wasn't until a few minutes later we realised the cabbie was driving the wrong way back to the compound: through the worst of the damaged roads. The car tipped and swerved around the huge gauges in the dirt road, but we eventually made it home safe and sound. Phew.