Kwanza Kazi Hospitalini

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I’m over 5 weeks into my stay here. And once again, I’m slacking on this blog. Since my last post, Swahili and engineering classes at TCDC have ended. Our group has split up and moved to new homes to begin individual work at our hospitals. I am staying in a home with eight girls from EWH, on the outskirts of Arusha. Saying goodbye to our friends was difficult, but we made plans to hang out on the weekends, always the highlight of my week. Leaving Mama Gaude’s house and the comfort of TCDC brought about an unnerving uncertainty; I was just starting to feel at home there and didn’t want to leave. After saying our goodbyes, we boarded the bus and stared silently out the windows, unsure of what to expect the second month. I began to feel my first pangs of homesickness.

Family Portrait: Rafia, Christine, Mama Gaude, and I

Our Kiswahili Mwalimu, Baba Kisanjii : "BOMBA BOMBA!"

Saying goodbye at TCDC: Lauren, Ray, our fearless leader Miguel Angel,
Rishab, and Aman

Our new home isn’t quite as nice as Mama Gaude’s, but it is still considered one of the wealthiest in the area. It is a large brick house owned by a cheerful lady named Mama Macarine, who runs a bed and breakfast style home for travelers. There is no hot water, but bucket showers with boiled water aren’t so bad. The food is your average African dishes: rice, meat stew, soup, chipati, cooked bananas, fried potatoes. They have amazing ginger tea waiting for us every day after work. For the first week, we were short three beds, so we had to share or sleep on the floor, but this week I have my own bed. All and all, not bad.

On the first day we arrived at our new home, it was Mama Macarine's 50th birthday. We had a large party (she's a popular lady), complete with dancing and huge feast. While unpacking, I heard an awful screech coming from right outside my bedroom window, so loud that I jumped in fear. I looked outside the window and watched as two men slaughtered a goat. So much blood. It was one of those things that was just so disgusting it made my stomach churn, but I couldn't seem to look away. We were served goat kabobs at the party later that night.

We began work at our assigned hospitals last week. My partners, Charlotte and Inka, and I were assigned two hospitals, both in the bustling city of Arusha: St. Elizabeth and Ithna Asheri. Both are comparatively “nice” hospitals, but still vastly below standards in the developed world. Let’s just say, I would never ever want to be treated at a Tanzanian hospital, except for something very minor. Seeing the operating room was plenty of motivation to not engage in risky activities here.

At St. Elizabeth, we work with a fundi (“technician”) named Jonas, a pleasant man who only speaks Swahili. Communicating with him is challenging, we do a lot of pointing and hand motioning and making up Swahili words. Jonas is very knowledgeable and resourceful, and we greatly appreciate his help. He has a workshop made out of a large shipping crate, with doors and windows cut out of it. It is filled with a shagalabagala (“mess”) of electronic parts and broken medical equipment, but he keeps his desk area very tidy, a great workspace for us. This reminds me of my dad, who in his workshop has mastered the art of the organized mess. A place for everything and everything in its place. 

Ithna Asheri does not have a technician, so our help seems to be more appreciated and needed there. There is no workshop, so the head doctor gave us the TB office to work in…. sketchy? The office is free during the day because the hospital only sees TB patients at night, in order to provide some kind of quarantine against the other patients, particularly those with HIV. I just try not to think about it. Good thing we all have vaccinations.

Now for a quick rant: sanitation at both hospitals is practically non-existent. You would think it would be fairly easy to find soap in a hospital, right? Wrong. In the staff bathroom, no soap. In the examination rooms, no soap. In the operating rooms, a tiny, very questionable bar of soap. Call me a germaphobe, but it should not be this difficult to find soap in a hospital. And don’t even get me started on toilet paper. The operating room is lined with open windows, and the “sterile zone” consists of a red line on the floor, which in order to cross you have to change your shoes. Well at least they’re trying…

On Friday we were called to fix an anesthesia machine in the OR. We were taught in our classes last month to avoid touching anything unnecessary in the OR, and that it is best to remove equipment from the room before beginning work. As soon as we walk in, Jonas goes to town, setting all our dirty tools right on the operating bed. It was a lost cause. A nurse came in and told us we had to leave momentarily because they needed to see a patient right away. A very pregnant woman calmly walked in and gave birth on that same operating table, just moments after we had used it as our tool bench. When she was done, we got back to work. Hakuna matata. 

Miguel, Inka, me, Charlotte, and Jonas, in the OR with our newly fixed anesthesia machine. Stoked!

On the bright side, we were able to successfully fix the anesthesia machine, despite being horribly intimidated by it at first. Miguel (our Peruvian engineering instructor from last month) rotates around all the hospitals, so we were fortunate to have him that day. He is incredible in the field, and always a constant source of humor. We found the problem in the ventilator, so as we always do when we don’t know the cause, we took it apart. After poking around and not finding anything suspicious, dejected and disheartened at our failed attempt, we put the ventilator back together… and it WORKED!! Electronics are always a mystery.

The pace of work in Tanzania is slow and frustrating. Finding parts that would normally just require a quick run to Home Depot is a tedious and tiring processes, moving from shop to shop, trying to explain in Swahili what you need. There are no big hardware stores, only small hole-in-the-wall shops that you walk up to and tell the person what you need. You can’t just look around and browse like stores in the U.S., you are forced to talk to people. We needed a small bracket to fix a dental amalgamator yesterday, and had to try about five different stalls before finding something that might work. I wish I had a picture of the local hardware shops, but I live in fear of showing my camera or anything else of value in public. Being an Mzungu (“white person”), especially in this part of town, we are walking targets for robbery. Wearing a money belt and leaving everything else at home is the way to go.

Despite these frustrations, we had a successful first week. We fixed two oxygen concentrators, a centrifuge, two anesthesia machines, a water heater, and a bedside monitor. We are still in the process of fixing the dental amalgamator, another monitor, a voltage regulator, two medicine vaporizers, a printer, and installing new lights around the hospital.

Not happy with this ventilator...

If you stick to traditional African food places and are willing to risk possible food poisoning, eating in Tanzania is dirt cheap. The less English they speak, the cheaper the prices. We discovered this place across the street from our hospital called Losika Guest House. We eat a full meal of Pilau rice and meat, complete with tea and chipati, for the equivalent of about $2. I always leave feeling stuffed. Of course, in the touristy areas you can find a few Western food places which attract all the Mzungu, but they are much more expensive.

Treating ourselves at Africafe, a very Mzungu place

On Thursday night, we went to a popular night club called Via Via. The club is outdoors, under cabanas. Thursday night is Mzungu night, so it was completely packed with a mix of about 50/50 local people and white tourists. Funny how all the white people in Tanzania magically congregate and find each other at this little club. We ran into a group of Canadian dental students that we met while climbing Mt. Meru. We danced until the early morning hours, but had so much fun that feeling exhausted the next day at work was totally worth it.

On Saturday, we met up with the rest of our group and went to visit a coffee farm. It was great to see everyone again, and the coffee was of course delicious. Our host Baba Steven took us through the entire process of Tanzanian coffee making, starting with picking. After filling several buckets with fresh coffee beans, we used a hand-cranked machine to pull the shells off. Next, the beans were crushed using a wooden bowl and a long log. We then took turns roasting the beans over a fire. After grinding the beans once more, we brewed coffee and drank it, while watching Juan attempt to climb a tall tree and pick parachichi (“avocado”). Great entertainment.

Picking coffee

Trying to find the red ones

Artsy Fartsy

Baba Steven shows us how it's done

Frankie, the most adorable kid I've ever met

Frankie took a liking to Aman

Removing the shells

Raelyn grinds the beans

Roasting

That night we went to a sports bar called empire, drank cheap sangria, and watched the Olympics.

On Sunday, we visited a nearby lake. The place was deserted, since everyone was at church. We wanted to paddle out, but the man working wanted to charge us 45,000 tsh (approx. $30) to rent the crappiest looking canoe you’ve ever seen. We offered him 20,000 tsh, but he wouldn’t take it. Which was just silly, it wasn’t like he was going to get any other customers that day. Instead, we settled for sitting by the lake eating chipsi mayai (basically a French fry omelet). Later, we drank milkshakes at an amazing cafe called Tanz Hands. Beats rice and beans.

Despite all these incredible experiences and great people I am surrounded by, I am starting to really miss home. Three more weeks! 

Baby, there ain't no mountain high enough

The last few days have been some of the most challenging yet amazing days of my life. On early Monday morning, after three intense days of climbing and running on four hours of sleep, I made it the summit of Mt. Meru!

Mount Meru is Tanzania's second highest peak after Kilimanjaro, standing at 14,980 ft (4566 m). Meru is an inactive volcano located in heart of Arusha National Park. It's last major eruption was over a century ago. While not as high as Kilimanjaro, the climb up Meru is known to be more challenging and technical.

We began our journey Saturday morning. Our group of 12 hired quite the team of porters to help carry all our food and water, though we still had to carry many things ourselves. We were also required to hire a ranger, who carried a gun at all times to protect us from wild animals. The first day was fairly relaxed, despite carrying heavy bags up steep trails for five hours. The trails meandered through dense forest and beautiful views of African plains below. We arrived at our first lodge in the afternoon. We were pleasantly surprised to find that the facilities were vastly better than what we were expecting—decent bathrooms, bunk beds with mattresses, and AMAZING food from the cooks. When we got there, they had hot tea and popcorn waiting for us. We played this Canadian card game called Euchre (Raelyn our Canadian friend taught us of course) on the deck overlooking the view, and went to bed early.

Our group pre-climb, at Momella Gate

Raelyn & I on the deck at Miriakamba Lodge

GIANT tree!

Waterfall where we stopped to eat lunch on day 1

Miriakamba hut, Mt. Meru summit in the background

Day 1 hike

Pre-climb yoga sesh

Playing some Euchre, wearing our awesome hats
we bought at the second-hand market.
Excuse me, I mean "head socks."

The next day, we began our climb bright and early. We hiked for four hours on day 2 to reach the second lodge, but the climb was much steeper and we were beginning to feel the effects of the altitude. After eating lunch, we climbed to the summit of “Little Meru,” a smaller peak with beautiful views of the clouds, Kilimanjaro, and Big Meru off in the distance. The goal was in sight.

We went to bed at 8pm that night, and woke up four hours later to begin the summit….

Contemplating life on Little Meru

At the summit of Little Meru

The never ending staircase

View of Kilimanjaro from Saddle Hut Lodge

After a quick snack and tea, we began the summit climb at 1am in the cold and dark. The first two days of climbing were horribly deceiving. While long and steep, there was nothing technical about the climb and anyone in decent physical shape could complete it. The third day was a whole different story.

It took us over 5 hours to reach the summit. I’ll admit, I was absolutely miserable. It was freezing cold and pitch black. Summiting was steep, rocky, and treacherous, with high winds and little oxygen. We had a fantastic view of the stars and milky way, but I was too busy staring intensely at the ground trying not to fall off a cliff to really get a good look at them. Despite being exhausted, we couldn’t take long breaks because as soon as we stopped moving we immediately got cold. There were a few points that required us to scramble over practically vertical walls of rock with steep black abyss below, following faint green blobs of paint that served as trail markers. They were impossible to see in the dark. There were a few moments where I was literally frozen in fear clinging to a wall of rock, with all my survival instincts yelling at me not to go on. To make matters worse, I had an upset stomach and was feeling very nauseous and weak, but I was determined to make it to the top. There was one point when we stopped to take a break, and I thought we might be getting close to the summit. We asked our guide how much farther, and he said “we are almost half-way.” ONLY HALF-WAY?! Yeah. That was my low point. 

If this description sounds overly dramatic, I can assure you, it isn’t. Those were probably the most challenging 5 hours of my life, mentally, physically, and emotionally. And I’ve run three marathons; I know pain.

Needless to say, I was ecstatic to reach the top. I could see the Tanzanian flag marking the peak only a short ways ahead, just as the sun began to rise over Kilimanjaro in the distance. The clouds and the light were unreal. I ate a victory bag of peanut M&M’s at the top, and signed my name in the “I conquered Meru” book. It was all worth it.

The park recommends climbers take two days to descend the mountain, but we decided to be beasts and do it all in one day (mostly because we had class the next day and we didn’t want to pay for another night in the park). After making it back to the lodge, we took a quick hour break for lunch and booked it out of there to make it back to the gate before it closed at 6pm. I was exhausted, running purely on adrenaline and a strong desire to be home. Every step down the mountain sent pain shooting through my knees. We hiked for a total of 16 hours that day, reaching the gate just as the sun went down. So glad to be home. 

But don't let this description scare you! If you ever visit Tanzania, I highly recommend climbing Meru. Just be prepared to suffer a bit on the last day. You won't regret it. Next stop.... Kilimanjaro. 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANDY! Miss you so much.

Sunrise over Kili

Calvin the Doctor and Eriki the Pilot

I’ve been in Tanzania for over three weeks now, quickly approaching the half-way point of my stay here. A little late, but here is a picture of our awesome group:

Last week we visited the local market as a class, given the task of using our Swahili to bargain for and purchase food. This was intimidating, pushing our way through a busy outdoor market and trying to speak the language, often getting laughed at by the locals. Nevertheless, I successfully bought a bunch of mangos, bananas, cucumbers, and tomatoes, for a total of 1500 tsh (about $1). I also bought a kitenge, a large piece of fabric that comes in many different patterns. Christine and I split the fabric, and we took it to a tailor to get long skirts made. The fabric and the tailor service for a custom made skirt cost a total of about $6. Stuff is cheap here. 

At the Tengeru Market

On Saturday, some friends and I attended the graduation for students here at TCDC. If you think American graduation ceremonies are bad…. this one lasted three hours. But there was some cool entertainment, including a performance (chanting and dancing) by a Masai tribe. That night, we all watched Dodgeball, had drinks, and danced at the Friday night disco. Probably the most fun I’ve had dancing in a long time. On Sunday, we found a pool at a hotel in Arusha to hang out at for the day.

Masai tribe performs at TCDC graduation

Yesterday, our class visited Watoto Foundation, a school for former street boys ages 12-18. The school rescues boys who turned to the streets for survival, often because they are orphans or their families lived in poverty and abused them. In the streets, they fall victim to criminal activity, drugs, alcohol, sniffing glue, and risk being infected with HIV.

When we arrived, two young boys eagerly grabbed me by the hand to show me around:  Calvin and Eriki, ages 14 and 16. I wish I got a picture of them, they were adorable. They spoke little English, but I had fun trying to communicate with them in Swahili and they seemed to enjoy impressing me with their English. 

The Watoto Foundation is much more than a school. The boys live in dormitories, raise animals, and cook their own food all on the school grounds. The have carpentry and welding shops to teach the boys skills to help them get jobs when they graduate. Calvin and Eriki took me to see their many animals, including chickens, goats, cows, pigs, and rabbits. They handed me a baby rabbit to hold, and I naively asked them if they kept them as pets. I don’t think they understood the question, because Calvin replied with a huge grin, “Ohh yes! We put rabbit in dee box, then put on dee FIRE! Rabbit Yum Yum!”

I asked them what they wanted to be when they grow up. Calvin wanted to be a doctor, Eriki a pilot. They proudly showed me their computer room, which had a few old desktops. They asked me if I had ever used a computer. When I told them I owned my own personal computer, their eyes got very big and their jaws dropped. “You have your OWN computer?!” I decided not to tell them how I also have my own car…

Calvin and Eriki wanted to know all about America. They were surprised when I told them that we didn’t have lions, zebra, elephants, or giraffe in America. They asked if I knew how to swim, and then proudly demonstrated their out-of-water swimming skills. My favorite question was when they asked me if I personally knew Obama. Obama is like a god here. Then they told me they didn’t like George Bush. Smart kids. 

Enough for now. Here's some random pictures:

Ray holding a kitten we found at the hospital on Friday

Delicious lasagna Rafia made for us the other day

Tea time

Wikiendi Safari

Ijumaa (Friday)

Time seems to move quickly here in Tanzania. It has been almost a week since my last post, and I have so many new experiences to share it's overwhelming.

On Friday, our group traveled to Mt. Meru Hospital in Arusha to spend our first day attempting to fix broken equipment. The hospital was fairly large and mostly outdoors, consisting of several run down buildings connected by open walkways with coverings. The hospital was full of energy. Busy people were everywhere, moving patients and tending to the hospital rooms packed with people. When we arrived at the front office, they already had a pile of equipment waiting for us. 

Working with Ollie and Miguel to fix our first
oxygen concentrator. 
Photo cred: Morganne Gagne

We got to work right away on an oxygen concentrator, which upon opening found that the problem was merely a few loose wires. It seems that many of the problems are caused by improper use or lack of maintenance. Biomedical technicians in the developing world are few and far between. The hospitals cannot afford to hire people to maintain the machines, even for simple fixes. Another oxygen concentrator was deemed "broken" by the staff, but upon brief inspection I found that the tube leading from the water chamber to the patient was clogged with mold, because nobody bothered to clean it. 

One of the biggest frustrations we encountered was that it was almost impossible to find even the simplest supplies. We brought all our own tools, the hospital had none. In order to clean the oxygen concentrator tubing, all we needed was some soap, a bucket, and water and maybe a sponge or towel. The nearest water source was a small ground water spout around the backside of the hospital. Soap, bucket and a sponge were never found.

Stephanie tests out our newly fixed wheelchair

Despite these difficulties, we were surprisingly successful on our first day in the field. We fixed a total of two oxygen concentrators, one surgical light, several hospital beds, three wheelchairs, three blood pressure cuffs, and started work on an autoclave, among other things. A few things were beyond a day's repair, such as the autoclave that had a family of rats living in it. 

After returning some of the fixed equipment to the floor, I realized how heavily the hospital depended on us. Stephanie and I had just finished repairing a wheelchair with a broken wheel by replacing it with a wheel from an old hand truck. On our way to return it to the maternity ward, we saw a woman with a broken leg struggling to walk using makeshift wooden crutches. We offered her a seat in our newly fixed chair, and wheeled her off to the surgery ward. She didn't speak English, but it was clear from her smile that she appreciated the help. Another wheelchair we repaired was immediately taken by a nurse who seemed very pleased to have it. Wheelchairs are in short supply here. 

Scrub Buddies! Daria, Oriane, Me, & Keerthighaan at Mt. Meru Hospital

Between repairs, I wandered around the hospital to look around and find more broken equipment. The hospital was full to the brim with people. I walked into a building labeled "Children's Ward," and was disappointed to find that while every single bed was full, there were no children in the Children's Ward. I guess they ran out of beds in other rooms. Patients were all together in big open rooms, with no curtains. Privacy was nonexistent. The bathrooms were, well..... slightly disgusting. Though I am fortunate to have a clean flushing toilet in my home at Mama G's, most of the toilets in Tanzania are what we have deemed "squatties." Basically, a stall with a ceramic hole in the ground that you flush by pouring a bucket of water down. No big deal. 

Walking around the hospital was the first time I began to experience a slight culture shock. The conditions were so poor compared to US standards, it was hard to process mentally. It was good to get a taste for what the next month working in the hospital would be like, and feel like I was actually able to make a real difference for these people. Our first visit was all about building up trust. The staff have seen so many people like us come and go, with big promises and little results. It is understandable that they are apprehensive about our work here, but hopefully as we continue to successfully fix things they will warm up to us. Every time we brought something back in working condition they seemed surprised and pleased, for the most part.


Jumamosi na Jumapili (Saturday and Sunday)

Now for the good part: our weekend safari. 

Safari Part 1: Nzuri Sana (“very good”)

On Saturday morning, our group boarded these old-school LandRover safari vehicles and headed for our first stop: Lake Manyara. Part of the park was densely forested, with monkeys and exotic birds inhabiting the trees. Within 15 minutes of entering the park, we passed by a group of elephants feasting on the foliage by the side of the road. The animals seemed oblivious to our existence, totally at home in their natural environment. Much better than any zoo. By the day’s end, we had seen zebras, giraffes, baboons, elephants, flamingos, hippos, many strange birds, wildebeest, and impalas.

We arrived at our “hotel” that night, which was really a glorified campground. The rooms were outdoor camping tents underneath grass roof coverings, with small beds inside. The view from our hotel was absolutely breathtaking. African plains, forest, and mountains as far as the eye could see. It was perfect.

We ate dinner cooked for us at the campground, complete with an unexpected dance and acrobatics show, which was unbelievable. These people could start their own African Cirque du Solei.

We spent the rest of the evening hanging out on the cliff overlooking the view, enjoying each other’s company.

The next morning, we headed to the Ngorogoro crater, a world-renowned Safari site and one of the most popular destinations in all of Africa. I can see why: the Crater is home to a dense and diverse population of animals in a confined open area, making it ideal for close-range animal sightings. The crater is actually a caldera, caused by the eruption of a volcano millions of years ago. The drive into the crater was steep and treacherous, but the view was incredible. There were so many zebra and wildebeest they became boring towards the end. Lions, hyenas, warthogs, ostriches, gazelles, elephants, impalas, hippos, and rhinos were plentiful. It was truly unreal.

I arrived home safely that night, feeling happy to check African safari off my bucket list. 

Safari Part 2: Shagalabagala (“big mess”)

(Mom & Dad, stop reading here)

Okay…. so, everything in part 1 is 100% true, it’s just missing a few minor details.

On the morning we left for the Safari, I got food poisoning from a restaurant in Arusha. I was determined not to miss the trip, so despite feeling like I was going to die, I convinced myself that I was fine and got in the car anyway. The two hour journey over bumpy back roads was possibly the most miserable car ride of my life, but fortunately the sickness passed by the time we made it to Lake Manyara…..Phewww….

We hired a company to take us on a two-day all-inclusive Safari for the very cheap price $200/person. Lesson learned: in Tanzania, you pretty much get exactly what you pay for.

One of the three vehicles had to stop within a few minutes of leaving Arusha, because it had a flat tire. Throughout the trip, every vehicle had broken down at least once, and going up hills was nerve-racking as the engine whined loudly and often stalled. Up until we left Ngorogoro crater, these were only minor inconveniences. They merely added to the adventure. 

The climax hit on our way home. We left the park around 3:30pm on Sunday, fully intending to be home within a couple hours. One of the cars had broken down Saturday night, so our guides had rented a local vehicle and sent the car to get fixed during the day. They expected it to be ready by the time we left. Of course, it wasn’t. We spend about two hours waiting in Mbu Mtu (“Mosquito River”) for our drivers to figure out what to do. We sat on the side of the road singing Lion King songs to lighten the mood. It seemed appropriate.

Eventually, they found a dala dala driver on the street who agreed to take the third group home, and we were on our way.

About 45 minutes down the road, I get a call from someone in the other safari vehicle. They had broken down, and it was beyond simple repair. We decided to go back and wait with them, since the side of the road in rural Africa with a sketchy tour guide isn’t exactly an ideal situation. The dala dala vehicle was far ahead and continued to Arusha.

We ended up waiting on the side of the road in the dark for 3 hours. This made for great bonding time. It was literally the middle of nowhere, at least an hour drive in either direction to reach civilization. Our drivers attempted to fix the car by stuffing tea bags in the radiator (?), which was a fail. At one point we crammed all 16 of us into a 8-person car, and drove down the road about 10 minutes until we had to stop again (still don’t know why, our drivers always kept us in the dark about what was going on. “Don’t worry! It is ok!” was their favorite phrase).

After passing us once, the rescue car finally found us. We were about to drive away, when broken car #1 (the one being fixed in Mosquito River) pulls over next to us. The driver approached the back window of our car, and happy proclaimed that he had “fixed” the car and that we should all get in now. Thing was, he reeked of alcohol from 5 ft away. No way are we getting in the car with this dude. He also had three mysterious men in the back. The situation just kept getting weirder….

Meanwhile, I called the dala dala car to let them know what was going on and to tell them to keep heading home. They informed me that their car was currently stopped by a policeman. Their driver didn’t have a license.

Is this story getting confusing yet?

This is starting to get long, so I will end it here by saying we eventually did make it home safely, and learned many valuable lessons about Tanzanian culture along the way.

Lesson #1: as mentioned before, you get exactly what you pay for.

Lesson #2: people here live on “Tanzanian Time,” meaning nothing gets done when it’s supposed to. If someone says “be there soon” it really means be there in 2-3 hours. This can be frustrating for us fast-paced Americans. It has its good sides: people here are generally relaxed and friendly and low stress.

Lesson #3: Things that would be considered absolutely unacceptable in America (like drunk tour guides and cab drivers without a license) aren’t really a big deal here. Both are technically illegal, but the law enforcement is so corrupt it usually results in simply paying off the police officer and heading on your merry way. They don’t have the money to regulate things like this, and suing people is unheard of.

Lesson #4: sometimes, even in the worst situations, you just have to go with the flow and be like the Tanzanians—relaxed and laid back. Freaking out is so American. “Don’t worry! It is OK!”

Yes, it was certainly an adventure.

P.S. Mom & Dad: In case you read part 2 despite my warning, please don’t freak out. I promise you it was all worth it.