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    Time to Leave Grand Bois

    Time to leave Grand Bois. The man with the filleted leg is in pain, but healing well. The two kids who had tungiasis — burrowing fleas, which sounds better than it is — are healing well, but still scream when Dr. L changes their dressings. Man who collapsed from malnutrition doing better, but needs more nourishment once he gets home. I don’t know that will happen.

    We’ve got the well running and doubled the voltage. We’ve surveyed a site for a new well in the next village down the road and are hoping, in the near future, to build a windmill to pump the water. Anyone with ideas of how this is done in the third world is welcome to contribute. Seems like a great idea to me.

    As I type, two little girls are giggling and trying to punch the keyboard. Dr. L shows me a picture of them last summer. They were emaciated and barely able to stand. One of them, little K, was so feeble she couldn’t stand. Now she’s running everywhere, and won’t let me alone until I pick her up and play. Of course, these are the orphaned or abandoned kids Dr. L and his staff are raising in the clinic.

    Time to go. More later from PAP. Ah: little Silvio, the boy from the shack up the path, has come by. He is 7 and cares for little K like he was her dad. Bye for now, my new friends.


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