Perhaps I just don’t have much imagination, but when I’m standing shivering on Witham Station waiting for the 7.15 train on a winter’s morning, in the freezing drizzle and numbing wind, wondering if perhaps I’ve forgotten to put any clothes on, frankly it’s hard to believe that not everybody else is suffering the same fate.
So it’s quite depressing (probably even more so for you people reading this rubbish), to arrive in Marrakech last Friday and find that not everywhere is like Witham Station in January. Sorry to have to report, but the sun was shining, it was lovely and warm - people were even swimming. Not Witham Station at all really.
Of course that’s not quite true, because thanks to good old British Airways, we were four hours late, so didn’t actually arrive until one o’clock in the morning. But when we surfaced the next day and drew back the curtains, the sun was streaming into the room, and I was cursing the fact that I’d brought nothing but thick jumpers and heavy coats. Still, mustn’t complain, and I can assure, it really IS lovely to be surprised by warm sunshine in January.
So, having made you all jealous, let me remind you of some of the downsides of all this. The bad bits. Well, Saturday morning we went to the SPANA refuge (Good).
Queuing for treatment were about thirty horses, mules and donkeys, most of them looking like something out of a horror film (Bad).
But nice to see them helping themselves to a long soothing drink of cold, clean water (Good), from the huge water trough just by the entrance. Remember, I’ve been looking at animals like this for twenty years or so, but the wounds and crippling arthritis still shocks me (Bad).
But then I watch the SPANA team in action. (Good). With quiet efficiency, the two vets, three technicians, and three grooms, set about sorting out the queue (Good).
It’s nice to find somewhere unobtrusive, to keep out of sight, and just stand and watch ‘the action’.
Of course they’re not sentimental - SPANA staff see this and worse, six days a week. Yet alongside the quiet efficiency, as the different problems are assessed and ‘triaged’, or sorted into degrees of seriousness, there still remains that essential compassion. As one of the vets waits for a different wound dressing, I see him absent-mindedly fondling a donkey’s ears (Good).
Then I see an old grey mule. So old and thin, that frankly the only real solution is a trip to that great mule-stable in the sky (Bad – although quite Good as well, if you know what I mean). Then I see his owner. Thin as a pin, no teeth, and old enough to remember the Roman legions leaving Marrakech. Doesn’t look as if he’s eaten for a week (Bad) and when I ask, I hear that his mule is his only form of income – if the mule dies, he starves. So, we do what we can. Pain killers for the arthritis (the mule’s – the owner will just have to live with his), filing-down the teeth (the owner doesn’t have any), trimming the hooves (the owner’s are all twisted from ancient injuries), a wormer, then cleaning and dressing the sores and wounds (Good). We can give him a new bit, a doughnut bandage to lift the saddle of the sores (Good). We can give him a new head-collar and a SPANA nose-band, but by God, whatever we do, we can’t make him young again. In the end, I watch the two of them, like two brothers, limp off back into their hard cruel world (Bad) We have done all that we can.
Then we battle all day to agree the text for the eco-museum we are building in partnership with the Ministry of Eaux et Forets (definitely Bad), while the sun goes down, touching the snowy Atlas Mountains on the distant horizon red and gold, and we work on ‘til nearly ten. It’s not all beer and skittles.
Wednesday, 23 January 2008
Morocco - the good and bad
The Road to Marrakesh
Patrick Sells, newly qualified from Liverpool Vet School, has finished his 3,100 mile sponsored motorbike ride to Marrakesh, which has brought in a staggering £9k!
Here are his impressions of the city and SPANA's work there:
"When I arrived in Marrakesh I was bowled over by the haphazardness of it all, I had forgotten how random Africa can be. An old man on a BMX, a sheep being carried on the back of a moped, a man in a wheelchair vying for a piece of road at a mad intersection, red lights ignored happily. I steered my forlorn course for the big green gates of the SPANA refuge. Inside I found a white-washed haven, a tranquil space in the mad busy city, where injured and sick working animals (as well as the small furries) are given free veterinary treatment, and a chance to rest."
"I threw myself into the work, finding it hugely rewarding. The ethos of the charity concentrates not only on treatment but also prevention. I spend time trimming feet and rasping teeth, between jaw-dropping cases, from trauma (usually road collisions) to disease (rabies to botulism), most of which you’d never encounter back home. Yesterday we removed a 3kg testicular tumour from a donkey, anaesthetised on a mattress on the ground outside. The frequent sight of severe, chronic harness wounds gives me incentive to do a good job on my project, which will hopefully shed light on possible intervention strategies for this huge problem."
"In the staff I have found firm friends, who have shown me the true Morocco, both in the city and up in the mountains, countless hilarious forays and adventures, happy memories. My third week coincided with the Muslim festival of Eid, so I spent the day preparing sheep with my new friends; in the ensuing feasts we ate everything from brain to testicles, my gastronomic horizons have been significantly broadened! Touch wood, I have only got sick once, and crashed my bike once, and I am still alive and kicking, loving every second here in Morocco, wishing I could stay longer. It has been a superb learning curve from a veterinary perspective, and a life experience I shall never forget. The contrast of Marrakesh and Midelt (high in the Atlas Mountains) is still staggering for me. I am off there again now, back up to the freezing heights for three weeks. I’m taking a tiny abandoned puppy along with me, I’ve named him Tadge (short for Tajine, photo). He will make a fine guard-dog for the Midelt refuge, behind which towers staggering snow-capped peaks. I will leave behind here friends and memories that I must revisit in the near future."
