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Vol. X, No. 5 January 31, 2004 IN THIS ISSUE:
 Margaret Manning is venturing again down a once-familiar path in LEARNING TO PLAY THE PIANO I wrote recently about the electronic keyboard I was given as a present. I thought at the time that Eric probably got it for me in an attempt to give me a new interest. That way I wouldn't be rabbiting on so much about anything I felt like talking about. I'd be learning the electronic keyboard and even with the volume turned up high, the sound might be an improvement on my non-stop talking. And I could always keep the door closed anyway. I decided I wanted to learn the left hand notes and not just touch a particular key (such as C) to get the chord sound. The "easy" way as above is fine if you want to play familiar tunes as per the music designed for these electronic wonders. But you get a rhythm with the chord as well. As I am rather fond of the sound of a church organ, the pre-set C, G, or whatever chord and rhythm on the thing didn't somehow sound right with the organ sounds being played with the right hand. I thought I was getting fairly smart playing Christmas carols by ear and writing down the notes. It didn't sound too bad, according to Eric, but I was still only on the right-hand notes. So I decided perhaps I ought to try to relearn the piano and forget about all the other things the keyboard will do. We found several books on music in the children's section of the library (and I have no idea why there are none on the adult shelves). I started at the first page and am working my way through a couple of very good basic books. I can now read the right-hand notes without hesitation and am at last getting there with the left hand. I am practicing scales (I remember they were awful things to do when I had piano lessons 100 years ago), and am slowly coming to grips with the sounds of chords. The first tune in one of the books I borrowed is called "Carefree", and I have just about mastered that. Then there is "Lucy Locket". I didn't think I knew that one until I gingerly tried out the right-hand notes. Wonderful - that tune was called "Yankee Doodle" when I was a kid so I already know how it sounds. The left-hand notes are not difficult so I should have that one right in a day or two. I'm still not sure whether Eric thinks he did the right thing buying the keyboard for me. Instead of muttering about whatever, I now go around the house talking about dotted minims and semi-quavers and other weird things. Poor fellow.
Dalton Deedrick continues with his diary entries for A MONTH IN AFRICA March 7 - Crossover day, with Bob and I alternating with the patients. Between 10 a.m. and 5 p.m., we attended to 52 patients, all of them extractions as there was no power for the compressor which we need to do fillings. One of the sisters brought us lunch, a nice mix of steamed vegetables, a big sausage, and a great slice of local pineapple. For several miles along our road into Thika we are flanked by pineapple fields, owned by the Del Monte corporation. The local workers are paid about $50 a month, and most of the workers have big families. There can't be much surplus income for such a luxury as a bicycle, or for school fees. On the way back to the hospital we stopped at the roadside to buy bananas. Instantly there were half a dozen venders at the windows holding up fruit or vegetables for sale. Sister M.C. was totally unruffled by the clamor, and "bar-gained" a few Kenya shillings for a bunch of delicious small bananas. The sisters invited us to their residence tonight for a combined "Farewell Dr. Bob, Welcome Dr. Dalton" dinner. Appropriate speeches all around, parting gifts for the Liners and Jennifer, and a good dinner. Alas, dinner was just underway when the lights went out, so in fact it was a candlelight repast. March 8 - My good friends and mentors are off for home, so I'm on my own, and frankly, a bit apprehensive. Off to the Thika clinic, and the first patient seated at 9 a.m.. There were nearly a hundred lined up when we got underway, all hoping to be seen, but working full out, we just managed to see 45 of them, but their problems covered the whole spectrum. Screaming Totos (kids), teenagers, adults, impactions, run-of-the-mill extractions, amalgams, composites and one bleeder. These clinics are hoped to be self-supporting to a degree, so there is a fee schedule. Happily, that's not my department but if you've been to the dentist recently, I think you'll feel we are reasonable. Converted to familiar currency, the charges are $3 for an extraction, additional ones, $1 each; fillings $3; for students, any procedure, $1. A nurse, a driver, and an assistant, and car expenses all come out of this pot; Rotary International, diocese funds, and volunteer donations make up the shortfall. Many patients will ask for just one extraction because they only have $3. If there are adjacent stumps, I clear up whatever needs to be done in that quadrant, and away they go with just their $3 spent. Back to the hospital compound and my very quiet, empty house. Leftovers thoughtfully left by Lois for supper, and no T.V. or even a paper to read. The radio picks up Nairobi, but my Swahili language comprehension is next to nil. March 9 - Early up to view a gorgeous Africa morning. The highlands of East Africa has a climate matching any other place in the world. Packed our whole dental office in the back of the Peugeot and drove 45 minutes to Mangu. Lush plantations of coffee, pineapples, maize and bananas all along the way. This is one of Kenya's best highways, just two lanes, broken margins, and endless pot holes. The shoulders are the pathways for countless foot travelers, laden with children, market produce, firewood, cattle forage, and bags and bundles of unknown content. Most look worn and dispirited. In the fields, men and women chop away steadily with their short-handled hoes and mattocks. I didn't see a single mechanized piece of farm machinery. Our clinic was in a Catholic school complex, in the auditorium, and we set up on the stage. There were a hundred patients waiting, and by noon we had done just 32. The working conditions were hardly like we have at home! We have two basins and a bucket of water for the days' hand washing and instrument sterilization, (to use the term loosely). The corner was dark and the only light was a little headlamp powered by four small batteries. There was a one-position folding metal chair but no such luxuries as a window, a cuspidor, or suction. Four of us go out on these junkets. Sister M.C. drives and sends the patients in order up to me. I find out what is to be done, and this is not as simple as it sounds. Michael, my assistant, may not know the dialect of the patient, I don't know any Swahili, and Michael's English generally leaves me scratching my head. Finally we decide what is to be done, and David, the other supernumerary, leads the patient back to sister M.C., who collects the fee in advance, and the patient joins the end of the line. I freeze four or five patients, then work them through the chair in order, and start another cycle. Michael and David clear away the instruments after each patient, give them a scrubbing with the one brush we have, then dunk them into the one basin supplied, into which we have poured a hopeful dollop of disinfectant. When either of the basins becomes murky enough that we can't see the bottom, we change it, hoping that the bucket has enough water to half-fill them again. There may be good teeth out there, but we only see the people who have pain - and no wonder. Lots of children too, and each of them leaves with a balloon or a plastic toy we were advised to bring along. I think for most of them it is the only toy they ever had for their very own. To be continued.
Dixie Augusteijn is settling into her new life in A RETIREMENT HOME Here January is half gone and I have not written a thing to the Spinner. You would think a person in a retirement home would have lots of free time, but not so! I am just up from breakfast and will take this break to write before going down for supervised exercise at 10. While there, a washing is in the dryer. Exercise lasts half an hour, a good work-out, and every two weeks it is followed by a half hour of Tai Chi to keep us supple. This takes place in the exercise room, well equipped, even to having a hot tub! Then down to pick up the mail and get a cup of tea before lunch. During lunch we hear the activities are for the day. Today is the beginning of the Chinese New Year, so tables are decorated with red, and I wonder if we are going to have Chinese food as there are also chopsticks on the table. I will have to wait and see. One of the men at our table has his daughter here for a few days. (There are guest rooms for visitors.) She has just returned from a trip to Ellesmere Island and last evening, up on the terrace on the second floor, gave a good talk with video of her trip there, and during breakfast we had an interesting talk with her about the trip and also of a trip she made to Antartica, in the same year! That is carrying it to extremes. She visits her father about three times a year so is becoming well-known to the residents. I have visitors coming in this afternoon, but there has been a heavy snowfall so they may cancel. I am also having trouble about the insurance on my house, where I still have all my furniture, most of my clothes, and belongings. They want to insure it as a vacant house and of course it isn't vacant, but very well looked after: checked on daily, walks cleared, etc., etc., phone connected and of course also heated. Someone is also coming in to advise me about that. On Monday we are supposed to wear 'silly hats', and down in the lounge I see set out on a table all the makings for just such hats, such activity to take place this afternoon. This should take care of most of the hours, and also gives a chance for people to visit in an informal way. Four o'clock comes 'happy hour' until supper at five. Evening entertainment varies: there may be a movie on the second floor, bingo, cards, a musical evening, knitting club, book club, etc. There is no need for people to sit alone in their rooms unless they want to, and every effort is made to avoid their doing this. A couple of days ago I had an appointment with my doctor, whose office is in the clinic just off the first floor, then to the pharmacy, also on the first floor, to get a prescription filled. I see a dental office also there, but so far have not needed to go. Fridays the hairdresser comes in to her shop on the third floor, and every second week someone comes in there for foot care. I see afternoon shopping is scheduled for today, but do not need to go. It is so great to have all these things laid on. The staff here are so very caring, and the volunteers shame one for not having done more when one was active. I still need to do some more fixing to my rooms, one of which I have set up as my 'work place', with computer and desk, but still need more, either from the house, or will buy new, and will also bring some more things from the house, but may have to do so quicker than I want if this insurance business gets out of hand. Now it is time to get down for exercise so will stop for now, but perhaps you can imagine me living in this new environment! Greetings to all the Spinners!
CORRESPONDENCE Gerrit de Leeuw writes about a truly multicultural event: It's a beautiful sunny day (in Alberta) this morning. Elma and I are having eight Chinese friends over for supper. Over the years I have made a number of friends who are either Chinese or Japanese Canadians. Strange mix with Elma's Scotch and my Dutch ancestry! We just thought we had to do something to celebrate Gung Hoy Fat Choi with them. They are such deserving friends! We have some food representing every nationality. That's Canada for you. The greatest country to live in. Love every moment of it!
Tom Williamson recommends this site: Take the test; it's fun. NOT ALL AMERICANS ARE STUPID ~~~ My son, Jay, has been experimenting with broad band access to the web, and has made a website for the Spinner. It is a work in progress, but if you want to see what he has done so far, check out:
Here is an example of Cowboy Poetry: BUYIN' A BRA
You know, I've never been much for shoppin'
But the day came when I had to go
Without thinkin' I said "sure,"
Well, when I done the things
I crossed the street to the ladies shop
I walked right up to the sales clerk
From behind I heard some snickers
"What kind would you be looking for?"
She gives me a disgusted look
She took me down this alley
They had bras you wear for eighteen hours
They had bras that made you feel like you
Well I finally make my mind up
But then she asked me for the size.
"Six and seven eighths, well sir,
I thought that she'd go into shock,
"That's what I use to measure with,
By now a crowd had gathered
When she finally had it figured
My wife heard the whole story
She was still a-laughin'
Burk Dykes sends this story of ROMANCE An older couple were lying in bed one night. The husband was falling asleep but the wife was in a romantic mood and wanted to talk. She said: "You used to hold my hand when we were courting." Wearily he reached across, held her hand for a second and tried to get back to sleep. A few moments later she said: "Then you used to kiss me." Mildly irritated, he reached across, gave her a peck on the cheek and settled down to sleep. Thirty seconds later she said: "Then you used to bite my neck." Angrily, he threw back the bed clothes and got out of bed. "Where are you going?" she asked. "To get my teeth!"
It is difficult to produce a television documentary that is both incisive and probing when every twelve minutes one is interrupted by twelve dancing rabbits singing about toilet paper. - Rod Serling |