Logistician from Sydney, working in Dadaab refugee camps

Don McCallum,36, is an engineer from Sydney, recently returned from Dadaab in Kenya, the site of the world’s largest refugee settlement. Don was working as a logistician in the Dagahaley camp, in his first field placement with Médecins Sans Frontières. In a letter written when he was in Dadaab, Don describes the challenges of working in this context.

Lima Four. That’s me. Logistician number four. I’m responsible for the upkeep of a 170 bed hospital and five little health posts that service the Dagahaley refugee camp in Dadaab in Kenya, 80km from the Somali border. I live in a compound about 100 by 70 metres. There are about 70 staff, 60 of whom are Kenyan nationals. My immediate boss, Jean-Pierre, is from Congo, while our big boss, Daoud, is Afghan. Janine is a bubbly, cheery midwife from Sydney. Franco is an Italian surgeon pushing 70, who fills what little  spare time he has doing maths problems. Nina is a great nurse from Minnesota. Nicolo is in charge of admin, a hilarious Italian of similar age to me, but vastly more experienced in aid work.

Dinner most nights: “Camel or goat?” “Not sure”, “maybe camel”, “I’m just having the rice”, “I think goat”, “Pass the salt.”

I manage three logistics supervisors, overseeing carpenters, masons, plumbers, electricians, and donkey cart drivers. In something brilliantly French, I also direct cleaners, sanitation workers and hygienists, about whom I haven’t yet worked out the difference. Worker numbers are fluid but near to 40.

Dagahaley refugee camp is ‘home’ to about 113,000 people. There are two others of similar size and a fourth  lies half-built and empty due to a breakdown in negotiations between the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugeees (UNHCR) and the Kenyan authorities. The camps have been around since 1991. They have a grid layout of roads, which turn to creeks in the wet season. There is usually water and electricity where needed. A lot of the houses are basic domes of sticks which the refugees try to wind and waterproof with mud, plastic bags or old sacks. Some of the houses have developed over time and have a tin roof. There is a lively market with shops, butchers, tailors, mechanics, carpenters and so on. There are goats and donkeys everywhere. There is a system of elected community leaders who have a level of control and influence, but much crime, particularly against women, and corruption goes unchecked.

Incidences of disease and malnutrition I guess come as no surprise, but mental health is something that, like the west, is often overlooked. Imagine what some of these people have been through. Not only the physical stress of disease, minimal food, little material comforts, but the terrors experienced in Somalia, and then being confined to a few square kilometres of land. Médecins Sans Frontières’ mental health program is aiming to address this issue.

The climate is pretty tough. The temperature is a pretty constant 37 degrees. In part, that is because the thermometer outside my office seems to be broken and stuck at 37 degrees. When sussing out a dodgy thermometer in temperate zones, my usual trick is to shove it under my armpit. If it says 37 degrees then it is probably working. That experiment doesn’t really work here. I guess 37 degrees is not too out of range for someone familiar enough with the outback or an Australian summer. But it is the dust that gets you. The never ending dust. The film of fine dust that settles on everything; things not designed for dust such as medical wards, computers, toothbrushes, food, books, bed sheets, underwear. All not made for dust. Whooshka! Rain. The wet season started. In half an hour the landscape was mud. Glastonbury style mud. The water does not permeate the dust it just sits on top. Then any movement, by foot or by tyre, just churns a glug of mud. And then straight out of a Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel, frogs appear. Not tadpoles, but three inch frogs. Dust plus rain equals frog. Frogs in the showers, frogs in the wards, frogs in the kitchen, frogs in the toilets, frogs under everything that a frog might ever be under.

For the moment I’m finding the work rewarding. I’m making mistakes and learning as with any new endeavour. The work is stressful, confusing and challenging. But I think I’ll see this out and give a few years of my life to Médecins Sans Frontières. I couldn’t possibly go back to anything else just yet.

Médecins Sans Frontières teams started work in Dagahaley camp in March 2009 providing medical care, including surgery and maternal health services, in a 170-bed hospital. The five Médecins Sans Frontières health centres offer vaccinations, antenatal care and mental healthcare with an average of 10,000 patient consultations every month.