Christians to the left of me, preachers to the right...

As soon as heard just how religious the community is that I would be sent to I knew things were going to be hard for me. I am an unashamed, and self-confessed atheist, however I had the good sense to keep this particular fact to myself on my arrival. At first the exposure to a completely different world, the world of God, was interesting. However, that feeling was short lived. In our first week the hospital held a ‘week of prayers’ where a very charismatic preacher from South Africa was invited to run a 90 minuet service each day before work which all staff were expected to attend. Unfortunately for me, this particular preacher was very fond of the Old Testament and gave a wholly traditional service. In one he spoke extensively about the sin of woman, and their tendency to lust for men outside of the marriage. Not a single comment was made about the men and their equal, if not greater, tendency to also commit this sin. Instead he was solely focused on the discretions of the female race. How weak we are, first tempted by the apple or knowledge, and now this. As a modern-day feminist this quite literally made my blood boil, even more so when all the women in the congregation started verbally expressing their agreement with the preacher with cried of ‘Ahmen’ and rounds of approving applause. In another service the preacher referred to those who openly admit and celebrate their non-faith as arrogant heathens, full of sin and wicked people who would lead the faithful towards an equally wicked path. I guess if people knew the real me this is how they would view me, as an arrogant heathen. Which is ironic as I actually share so many similarities to Jesus himself. I live my life with compassion and kindness, I’m inclusive to all and an advocate for minorities, I definitely prefer wine over water, and I have many friends who work in the sex industry.

On Thursdays we sing hymns and pray over the patients on the wards

 

As interesting as the work is here, being placed in an isolated community, with such different cultures and customs to home, is unsurprisingly very isolating. My last placement was equally as remote, but the big difference there was the large number of western doctors, who I was able to form a close knit community with making the experience very different. Its not that the staff at Maluti are not friendly, they are very friendly. It’s just that over here no body shares my interests, people struggle to even understand me when I speak because of my accent, and everyone prefers to speak in the local language of Sosotho, which means I can’t join in with conversations happening around me. I’m sure people do fun things in their spare time here, but so far I haven’t heard of anything more exciting happening than a baptism. Theres only so much I can pretend to be interested in talking about Jesus, and with the daily morning prayers, I have more than had my fill of God and religious talk.

Sadly, my UK companion isn’t much in the way of social relief. Surprisingly, giving what we have signed up for, I’ve managed to get myself paired with a rather unadventurous person. Her idea of a good time is attending a church group or reading alone. In a way her ability to be so content with such little variation is quiet of impressive. My ADHD tendencies cause me to constantly be chasing the next big adventure or seeking new and varied social interactions. She, on the other hand, knows exactly what she likes and has no interest in stepping outside of what is familiar to her, so much so that she has never even eaten a courgette, because why risk it. She has her friends and family back home, and that appears to be more than enough for her. Forming friendships outside of this would be a waste of energy, which is a real shame for me personally as it leaves me in a perpetual state of loneliness out here. At times I feel as though I am Moses, wondering through a desolate landscape, barren of social interaction. If this is a test of my faith, then I feel I should remind what ever cruel puppet master has placed me here that I have no faith. But then again, I don’t believe in puppet masters, divine plans, karma, voodoo, or any of that stuff. (That’s not to say that I don’t believe in anything, I’m a big fan of science, reason, and occasionally logic.) Sitting here, contemplating this situation I’ve so expertly trapped myself in, I can almost hear the god-like wisdom of Radiohead whispering in my ear—‘You do it to yourself, just you, you and no one else.’ A lyrical prophecy, proving once again that Thom Yorke’s omniscience rivals that of the Almighty Himself.