Culture of Aid

There’s definitely a certain type of person that chooses to do aid work. It requires a lot of travel to difficult environments, leaving your loved ones for extended periods of time and often with very little notice. The work seems to attract wanderlusts and misfits. The cadre of responders to the Ebola outbreak are a slightly different group of recruits than in my past aid work, which recruited the typical humanitarian aid worker assigned to protracted crises. The expats here in Sierra Leone comprise a mix of humanitarian aid workers (like myself), many clinicians with varying experience in these contexts, those with military backgrounds for the logistic response, and emergency responders who thrive on the chaos of the immediate aftermath. It’s a strange mix and I have to say I don’t connect with most. This is the first post I’ve had where I am spending most of my time in the capital and while I appreciate the amenities, it’s such a surreal experience going to the Radisson after work sitting amongst a patio full of white people looking like they came from their DC office and begin their evening of alcohol and smokes.

There’s always an expat economy when we flood an area for a humanitarian response, but here it is stark. Usually, there’s some shopping at local markets, only a couple of restaurants available, and one or two hotels that journalists stay in. Because of the enormity of the response, many of us are staying at hotels, there a quite a few restaurants to eat at (and without a kitchen, we only eat out), and then there are the swimming pools.

I have to say that I do appreciate having a place to go outside of the hotel and office. Freetown is reasonably safe, but I’ve found the harassment to be far greater here than I’ve experienced elsewhere. It certainly isn’t relaxing to take a walk in town.

I think the adjective that best describes my feelings about the mission (external to the job itself) is disappointing.

I’ve seen a couple of episodes of prostitution-white male expats escorting Sierra Leonean women. Exploitation of this sort is absolutely not tolerated by the major agencies, which have strict policies about such behavior. It violates humanitarian principles and reflects on all of us. Unfortunately, I haven’t known who these men are or whom they work for or I would absolutely call their heads of office.

That sort of behavior also poses risk of transmission to others. We are under a strict no touch policy, those who are directly exposed to infected or suspected patients and those that work solely in the office. Those men obviously don’t care too much.

I feel disappointment that the environment here isn’t one of a team working together for a common cause-even though that’s surely what everyone is doing. Instead, it’s a bunch of misfits with habits that I don’t share or with dubious characters.

I keep mostly to myself and just try and concentrate on my job. May can’t come soon enough.

Kenema Isolation Kenema Clinic

Above (top) is an isolation unit for people who come to the community health clinic (below) and who are suspected Ebola cases. They wait until an “ambulance” comes to take them to a treatment unit. These were taken in Kenema District.

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