Just after I posted this afternoon from the office space Claudia and I have been sharing with the 'volunteers' (4 young women who help out on the unit for a small amount of $$$), and have made it their purpose to keep us well fed, answer our questions and vice versa, and translate when needed. A nurse here only makes about $150.00/week.
I hear crying/screaming from down the hall. A parent has learned that her son is dying and being moved from the ward to a single room. This is what it's like; good news, bad news, quiet, crying, women talking, sometimes laughing, nurses talk. The hall fills with several women in their black abayas and they huddle on the floor around the grieving mother. The unit has an intense limbo feel to it; and the world keeps turning not noticing what occurs on the third floor.
And in a 180° turn-a-round, Mazin picks us up in his car and takes us for a sumptuous late lunch at his home that his wife has prepared. It’s been like this all week. Only 2 more days and I’ve become attached.