Adham's Blog - Travel diary and bad poetry

Reborn

Five weeks ago, in Zurich, Switzerland,

At the end of my workday on a Friday, I was unsure about the best way to get to Geneva for a weekend event. Should I take the train or drive there? The trip is between three and four hours, and I love driving, but the weather is bad, and the rain is heavy. The train ticket would cost around 90 Swiss francs, so I decided to drive.

On the highway, the cars in front of me were splashing water in my face. I had to keep my distance or overtake them. The rain was heavy, and the roads were filled with water. While overtaking one of the cars with a speed between 105 and 110 km/h, I felt that I lost control of the car. It started drifting, my eyes opened wide, and I automatically raised my guards and observed the world. The car was drifting to the left, heading towards the side barrier of the highway, and all I could think was “it is happening.” I hit the side rail, and then the car spun around itself counter-clockwise while also drifting to the left, hitting the side barrier with every half-turn. I pressed the brakes without help, and after two full rounds, I pulled the handbrakes, which brought the car to a complete stop. At that moment, I was facing the oncoming cars, three lanes that came to a halt, and I took a few seconds to assess what had happened. I was uninjured, the car motor seemed to be still working, but I saw parts of the car on the highway. A car passed by and asked me if I was fine, and I nodded “yes.” A French truck driver had already stopped on the service lane, wore his reflective vest, and came to me, saying “Monsieur, Monsieur, ça va?” I told him I was okay. He told me something in French, which means “if the car works, move it to the side of the road,” which I did, and thanked him.

I called the police number and told them I had a car accident. They connected me to the responsible emergency number, and they asked me where I was, which number was on the nearest sign, and if anyone was injured. After that, I told them that there were some parts of the car on the highway that needed to be cleaned to avoid other accidents, and the woman responded, “yes, we see it on the camera!” That impressed me.

The friendly police arrived, they cleaned the highway, started the investigation, asked me some questions for the report, and started examining the car’s tires. They told me the tires were legally fine, but not good enough for that speed-weather combination. They gave me a QR-Code with which I could check the report online and use it for different public service offices. The policeman gave me advice on how to drive in such weather in the future. In the end, they called a towing service, which took me and the car to park in a garage.

Despite the accident, I decided to go to my event in Geneva because I didn’t want to dwell on the negative. During the train journey, I reflected on how much had changed in just one hour. Things could have changed even more significantly, but thankfully I am fine.

I remembered that life can be unpredictable and that it’s important to live life to the fullest. Money in the bank wouldn’t matter if I were to die, so I resolved to experience more, love more, and spend more.

I discussed this with my colleague Miranda and she said “Die With Zero” referring the book with this name. I also discovered that I was not afraid to die. Not that I am eager to discover the afterlife, but I am fine with what I have lived so far. Maybe now is a good time to ask you for your pardon, if I was ever mean to you, and if you continued reading until this line.

Moving forward, I plan to continue traveling, driving on the highway, and writing. Most importantly, I will do all of these things with a smile on my face 🙂

Oud Scented Tears

Her fragrance of oud, a match for her majestic elegance
But her lower eyelid, beautifully lined with kohl, like a dam holding back her tears,
on the verge of overflow,
Her radiant smile remained intact, in denial

“Have you seen one smile and cry?” she asked

That smile, though weakened by her tears, still radiated a light that outshone the sun’s rays on today’s noon
Her irises, colored like the northern lights, floated above a river of tears
I felt her pain, but never could I understand

Love and despair, an unfair pair
I knew she struggled, burdened with care
I wished to ease her pain and take it away
But all I could do was fly

Photo by Anita SHEPPERD on Unsplash
Photo by Louis Galvez on Unsplash
Photo by Anton Khmelnitsky on Unsplash

P.S.: this poem was improved using ChatGPT. Neat, no?

The best Soup

So you have crossed oceans and thousands of kilometers, then navigated among the alleys and the old houses to that tiny restaurant. There, they follow an ancient recipe, and they make the best soup in the world.
Stop.. Before sipping that soup, remember.. It could be really the best..

You sipped the soup.. You closed your eye and smacked your tongue. You tightened your lips and smiled to your own self.. This was the best soup you have ever sipped.. The taste is now imprinted in your taste buds.. You will never forget these few seconds.. Suddenly everything around you becomes part of the moment.. The old half-finished walls.. The old wooden chairs.. the old lady cook.

Congratulations.. That was it.. The best soup in the world..
But then.. That was it.. The last soup.. The last moment..
Now every soup tastes “less”.. No soup succeeds to impress.. Your mom’s soup tastes like water and your wife’s soup tastes like “piss”..

Do we really want, to always have the best?

Photos: man: Photo by Hisu lee on Unsplash, Soup: Photo by Max Griss on Unsplash

Qatar World Cup 2022, #2: Culture and Friends

We like Qatar so far. It seems like that: they gave money to some people and said: “take that money and make us a nice place”.

It is Wednesday the 7th of December. Our first stop was the national museum of Doha, which was an architectural piece of art. See this photo I found on the internet:

and here are some photos taken by Morad:

The content of the museum was not really impressive. Some artifacts from here and there, and some information about the history of Qatar. I didn’t have a lot of interest and didn’t feel I learned much more. It was just nice moving between the halls and observing different modern technologies employed to present the basic contents. I imagined, if Egypt would have such a budget and determination to present things nicely…

***

After the visit we werde picked up by Assem. An old friend from Egypt that moved here more than a decade ago. He is a pharmacist, and we sat beside each other in Grade one when we were 7 years old. Last time we met was 5 years ago in Germany. He drove us to “Katara”, a cultural village that was also made to impress. A lot of beautiful architecture, art installations, luxury shops side by side with old traditional workshops where craftsmen worked with their hands and hammers to carve wood or create artifacts from local materials. Fishermen drying salted fish and women selling their home-cooked food in stalls. The place was buzzing with locals and fewer tourists. Such nice energy and vibes close to the seaside. We sat there and discussed different cultural topics about Qatar and living there. Assem works in the biggest hospital here and gave us insights about the health care system.
Here are some photos by Morad from Katara:

***

After Katara, Assem took us to Lusail, a new city built in the last 10 years to be part of this World Cup preparation. So, they built a gorgeous stadium, a shopping boulevard, and plenty of residential units. I don’t know what Qatar plans to do with all of this new infrastructure. I feel it can simply accommodate plenty of new residents and businesses.
At the end of the boulevard on the seaside stood 4 impressive, gigantic metal-looking towers. They cornered a plaza with stairs and hanging above it was a big shark model in the sky. On this boulevard, there was a festival with many people, many big speakers with loud music, and a program of shows and events. Street performers were around the clock and at the end, there was an impressive drone-light show in the sky above the sea combined with beautifully matching music employing fire and smoke. Unfortunately, the locals and residents didn’t seem to appreciate the festival with music and shows as I anticipated. I was dancing almost alone on the street. There was a good DJ on the stage. I felt, “what a waste”. Again, it was an example of how you can build great “things” with money, but you can simply put culture inside the society that fast.

After being impressed the whole day with all these experiences, we retreated to Papa Jones for a very non-italian pizza. We were joined later by an old friend of mine called Hassan. Hassan was originally from Sudan, but we met in elementary school in Saudi Arabia looooong time ago. The last time we saw each other was 26 years ago, and we found each other again thanks to Facebook! We had a lot of catching up and summarizing how we spent the years growing up and still staying the same. It was such a nice late evening meeting. I need to mention that Hassan joined us at 00:30 after midnight. Some shops were open and Papa Jones was full. After many more conversations about life in Qatar and about the situation of workers that built the stadiums, we went home and agreed to meet again and do more things on the following days.

At the end of the day, Morad and I agreed, this is a very liveable place.

Qatar World Cup 2022, #1: First Impressions

A few weeks before the World Cup in Qatar starts, I started hearing voices calling to boycott the world cup because of “many reasons”. When I started to talk to people, I found many of them forming strong opinions against Qatar and FIFA. We navigated these opinions in different conversations. I mainly wanted to understand how such a moral decision is formed since I had Zero moral conflicts knowing that I am traveling to Qatar to watch the World Cup. This essay, however, is not about morality but rather an account of my experiences on this trip, which has already introduced me to interesting encounters even in the first few hours. Regarding morality, I would probably write a dedicated opinion at the end of the trip.

The trip started with a lovely farewell from a lovely lady at Zürich airport. The first flight was to Istanbul, where I met my brother, Morad, who flew from Hamburg. We took the next flight together to Doha. The flight was packed with football fans, many of them were supporters of Morocco. My seat was between two Moroccan passengers, and we spent 4 hours talking. They are flying to Doha without having tickets for the match, but are full of emotions since Morocco made it to the round of 16. During the flight, fans started chanting, standing in the aisle, and cheering for morocco. The whole plane started clapping and singing. Even Spain supporters (the team that will face Morocco) joined the singing, and the atmosphere was already festive.

We landed in Doha. The customs and luggage-claim were extremely smooth and efficient. People who worked in the airport were of many different nationalities. I think only the customs officer was Qatari. Nevertheless, everyone welcomed us with smiling eyes. I asked Morad, why is everyone here so friendly and happy? Morad couldn’t answer, since he lives in Germany 😀

We drove to the fan village and checked-in in our container room. It had two single beds, a bathroom, a fridge, an air conditioner, and a water boiler. It is surely overpriced, but we were happy to be able to attend this event for the first time. Here is a video showing the fan village where we are staying. It is also full of food trucks that are open almost 24/7. We slept to get ready for the first day, Tuesday the 6th of December.

***

We woke up without much rest, went for a coffee, and decided to have one stop before heading to the stadium. We took the metro to “Souq Waqif” which translates to “standing market”. It is a traditional market with plenty of restaurants and traditional shops. On the way from the metro station, we passed by a modern quarter with many fancy modern buildings and businesses. The streets were full of art installations and things related to the world cup to interact with visitors. It was packed with supporters from all countries wearing different flags, hats etc. Music is everywhere and people are having random conversations with each other on the streets. A real festival. We strolled and explored the souq and kept being impressed by how modern, organized and lively this place was. We visited an art center where many artists were busy creating new pieces. Here are some photos taken by Morad.

Before going to Qatar, some German friends were complaining that the whole competition was organized in one city. I didn’t actually understand where was the problem back then. Well, here in Souq Waqif, I realized that this was a beautiful thing. We saw supporters from almost all the countries with their flags and tricots roaming around the city, a truly global festival. When the next versions of the world cup will be distributed in many cities, you will see in each city fans mainly from a couple of countries. Like this German tourist says about his experience in Doha:

https://youtube.com/shorts/kgwIz_jrY9w

We had traditional Qatari food for lunch and shared the table with a random Kuwaiti visitor who seemed not to be poor at all, as well as two guys from Columbia and Peru. Nice conversations and tips and tricks for where to visit when we are not world-cupping. The Kuwaiti rich guy offered to pay for our lunch, but we paid and thanked him. It was time to head to the stadium to watch the game. Morocco vs. Spain.

We took the metro to the stadium. From the moment you leave the stadium, the road is prepared and studded with helpers that tell you where to go. They are from different nationalities, men and women, and in general, all are smiling and joking. A great atmosphere. The ticket was installed on an App that detected our location and activated the ticket. We entered smoothly and enjoyed the perimeter of the beautiful stadium. Many stages with live music, food stalls, and places to take photos. Always with an abundance of helpers. Probably redundancy.

In the end, we were in the stadium to attend our first live world cup game. Big emotions and a nice coincidence that an Arab team was playing. The game itself was entertaining, except for the very loud Moroccan fans that started whistling every single time the Spaniards possessed the ball. This was tiring by the end of the game. I will spare you the football details. But Morocco won. A primer in football history that an Arab team makes it to the quarter-finals. Great emotions that were later dimmed by Switzerland losing to Portugal 6-1. We watched that second game in a hall of a hotel since we needed some quiet peace. At the end of the day, we went back to the fan village and lodged in our container, hoping to be shipped to dreamland preparing for tomorrow.

Love-hate affair with Egyptair

I flew today with my mom from Jeddah, Saudi Arabia to Cairo on Egyptair. The trip turned out to be eventful. Pretty much like everything that happens in Egypt, I was reminded.
When I mounted the airplane, I found the crew very polite and friendly. During the flight, I found them going the extra mile to help the passengers to an extent that surprised me. I also wondered how they are not pissed off by the actions of some passengers that defy logic and basic social conventions.

During the flight, I saw a passenger addressing a crew member with urgency. I understood that there is a medical emergency since I remember seeing this passenger with her mother and her mother didn’t look very well. However, I stayed in my seat and waited. The Chief of the cabin crew moved steadily and hastily prepared an oxygen cylinder to go to the back where the “patient” was sitting. A flight attendant went back and forth to the patient and to the front of the airplane, and they asked for doctors on board. Besides me, there was a general practitioner. We went to the lady and examined her “shortness of breath” assisted by the cabin crew. We asked for the medical equipment that they have and were provided with a stethoscope, an electric blood pressure measuring device and a non-functioning device to (not)measure blood sugar. No pulse oximeter, which is the first thing I needed in this case. We examined the lady with what we had, and we were relatively assured since she was alert and aware. Later we discovered that she is a retired doctor herself. We landed shortly and provided a short written report to the crew and thanked them for their professionalism. In my heart, I praised Egyptair. Well, the meal was also not bad 😀

However!

With so many old and sick passengers onboard (there were at least 10 passengers in wheelchair boarding the plane), we found only 3 wheelchairs waiting to pick up the passengers. Then it took a loooong time for them to organize more wheelchairs, they gave up and just drove us from the airplane to the terminal. Still, no wheelchairs there. We waited a bit, then the customs-officer asked to stamp our passports and was kind enough to personally ask a worker there to get us a wheelchair. Meanwhile, I picked up our luggage (including our own shipped wheelchair). Still, no one showed up. So, I had to push the wheelchair with one hand and the luggage with the other hand. I was fuming and started stopping anyone who looked like working in the airport in any rank. No one seemed to be able to help. Until I found the responsible guy at the exit door. Kind of too late.

I contemplated. So much time was lost because of a simple protocol that I witnessed in numerous other airlines/airports. 7 wheelchairs in = 7 wheelchairs out. Simple information that is spelled by the cabin crew once they open the door or even before they land. It is all noted in the system anyway. But in Egypt, nobody seems to care.

So, I guess my conclusion is, the people are nice. But there is no system. No efficiency and no protocol. I am sending this post to Egyptair. Maybe it changes something. Oh.. and please Egyptair get a pulse oximeter.

A Deadly Accident in Hamburg

Warning: this post describes a deadly accident that I have witnessed today. Please do not proceed with reading if you feel unsure if you can handle descriptions of violent deaths. I write here to cope with what, I hope, does not remain inside me as a trauma.

It is Hamburg, I left Morad’s apartment heading to the airport to fly to Zürich. Due to some construction work unaccounted for in Google Maps, I missed the direct Bus by 20 seconds. I had to take another route. A bus, a tram and then finally here I am waiting for the train that will take me to the airport. The sign showed a delay. The train didn’t show up. The next one is scheduled in 5 minutes. Meanwhile, another train arrived and unloaded many people. Its sign read “Bitte nicht einsteigen”, please do not mount the train. And it set going.

I heard a lot of screaming.. I turned my head to see a human body stuck between the moving train and the platform. It was the upper half of the body. The train kept on moving and led to more hits to the body. It seemed forever. In the first glance I had goosebumps. I turned my head away because I know two things. There is no way this person will survive this accident, and what I will see will remain with me forever. I kept looking away.. Wanting to shout: “please don’t look”. But then I was also looking back at the victim, wondering if there is anything to do. We shouted “STOP”! but in vain. There was no way the train driver would hear any of our shouts.

The train was gone. Some people approached the body on the tracks. They carried him to the platform. It took me a couple of seconds to remember that I am a doctor and the possibility that the poor victim might still be alive. I joined the people, identified myself, and thought I felt a pulse in his carotid artery. A passerby who seemed to be a Spanish nurse started reanimating. He was shouting that we have to respirate him. I saw a woman calling the emergency. I shouted that we needed a defibrillator and a woman came to me saying that she will fetch one from 100 meters away. We alternated the pressing, there was no chest wall because of the trauma.

Meanwhile, we were a big group of civilians that had rescue backgrounds, a nurse, a firefighter, and a first-aid worker. I checked his pupils, which were wide and not reactive. The defibrillator came, we put the electrodes on the chest, “no shock advised”. The defibrillator didn’t detect any pulse. We kept on CPR till the ambulance team came. After the body check, it was clear that it is too late. May he rest in peace.

I turned my head to find another collection of people. An Arabic lady seems to have collapsed and lost consciousness, affected by the whole scene. She was twitching with closed eyes. A strong pulse. A policeman was holding her legs up. I tried to contact her until she came back to her senses.

I looked around me, the station was full of people on duty. Policemen, first-aid workers, and other helpers. I gave my contacts to the police and asked for permission to catch my flight. I spent the rest of the day with a heavy sadness. As a doctor, we are used to injuries and death. But witnessing the whereabouts and the events is a heavy load. I wrote this here to clear my head and my heart, and as an attempt to cope with what happened today. I apologize if I made you sad.

Update: here is the news covering about the accident.

https://www.ndr.de/nachrichten/hamburg/Radfahrer-stirbt-am-S-Bahnhof-Ohlsdorf-Mordkommission-ermittelt,ohlsdorf214.html

and the person who pushed the victim was caught:

https://www.ndr.de/nachrichten/hamburg/Toter-Radfahrer-Polizei-verhaftet-mutmasslichen-Schubser,ohlsdorf220.html

Tulips and Cobblestones

In an early Saturday hour, it was just me and the cobblestones,
an empty old town.
One lonely goose in the river.

It is the farmers’ market today.
I bought tulips from the oldest woman.
I smelled them. I smiled. I quivered.

It was then, I thought of you.
I knew we won’t be two,
if you never show up,
if you keep on hiding in the future.

In case, we don’t fall in love forever,
and our hearts of petals keep on flying apart,
blown everywhere by the indecisive winds,
I will love the thought of you.

And while waiting for eternity,
let kindness prevail,
in our fragmented stories:
unique and unmatched
they pave our paths,
like Cobblestones!

Kenya 2022 | Day 13b: My First Flying Lesson

5 Yankee – November November Echo
This sweet code will remain in my memory for a long time.

I have been dreaming of flying for a long time. Probably like a big percentage of humans. Today, I took the first step. When I landed in Nairobi from Diani a couple of days ago, I found few flight schools around the airport. So I knocked on their doors and asked if they could organize a test flight for me. I wanted to know how I would feel on a plane before I invest the time and the thousands of dollars needed. 99Flying was the name of the school, and Presley was my contact person. He, himself, was a student pilot who works in the school to finance his learning costs. I liked Presley’s attitude. He kept saying: “Whatever it takes to get my dream. Money is just paper the government is printing. We will shake it, man”.

A student on a simulator
Looks like a more sophisticated simulator

I have already arranged the date and time. They were waiting for me. My instructor is a young, funny guy called Rodriguez! His father liked football so much and named him after some player in the 90s.
So, here we are. Rodriquez and I in the one-engine, 30 years old airplane called 5Y-NNE, 5 Yankee November November Echo. Each of us has a headset and is ready to flyyyy.

Before taking off

Rodriguez started by making a thorough check of the gear, communicating with the tower, and asking permission to take off. One of the most exciting things about today is listening to the whole thing in my headset. I felt like a badass going to save the world.
Rodriguez was sitting comfortably as if he were sitting in an old Mercedes. The take-off was smooth. The tower asked us to fly 6200 feet high. We headed in a straight line to the “visual landmark” which is a big building with a red roof. There we communicated again with the tower and turned to another visual landmark, a bridge, in each step, Rodrigue`z communicates with “someone” saying the sweet, 5 Yankee, November November Echo.

Taking off

The dashboard
Rodriguez explaining things
The view from my seat

He explained to me the dashboard, the steering of the airplane, how to use the GPS, and also the landscape that we saw. It was all surreal for me.
Our direction was the Kilimanjaro mountain. Some people like to climb mountains. I am too lazy for that. A few years ago, I flew around Mount Everest in a small touristic plane, and now I wanted to do the same with Kilimanjaro.
We were now out of the control zone. So we announced our progress on an “unmanned frequency”. We started to see the silhouette of the Kilimanjaro, but also the clouds that covered its peak. My initial agreement with Rodrigues was to fly till we see the mountain, then we head back. So, since we realized we will not see more of it because of the cloud, we turned and started heading back.

Kilimanjaro expectation
Kilimanjaro reality

Landing

There were some moments of pure happiness on this trip, and this was definitely one of them. Happiness, joy, excitement, or fulfillment, probably a mixture of all this. Sometimes I think languages are unfair and insufficient to describe the scope of human feelings and experiences.
I have decided to pursue this path in the near future.

Rodriguez with the “beast” of 180 horsepower

After my flying experience, I went to meet Theo in the afternoon for dinner. I waited for him in “Que Pasa bar”. He was more than half an hour late, but one thing I have practiced in Kenya is “No hurry in Africa”. His excuse was “Sorry, I was cooking. I slaughtered a rabbit yesterday and I wanted to try this Italian recipe while it is fresh”. I was entertained! We chatted for a couple of hours about my experience in Kenya and the contrasts with Europe. Theo’s family lives in London now, and he has been to a few parts of Europe before. What I noticed is that strangers could join tables even if they had other people, “This is how you make friends”, said Theo.

I retreated early to the hotel to relax and contemplate my trip. Tomorrow, Saturday, I fly back to Zürich full of renewed energy and new resolutions.

Kenya 2022 | Days 12 and 13a: In Kenya’s National Hospital

Theo, the psychiatrist my new friend, promised to take me to Kenyatta hospital for a tour. It is the biggest national and university hospital in Kenya. He is not on duty there, but he had a few errands to run. One of them was to see the MRI scans of a patient he saw two days ago. The patient was referred to him because of a speech disorder and walking difficulty. Theo noticed also some rigidity in his right arm, and therefore he sent him for an MRI. We met the daughter and Theo showed me the printed scans that showed clearly bilateral Subdural hematoma, a medical emergency. We took the scans to the radiologists and asked the daughter to bring the patient for further procedures.

Theo then took me to the neurology ward to see if I can join the morning round, but it was over already. They said I can join them tomorrow 8:30. I borrowed a lab coat from Theo, and we separated to meet tomorrow for dinner.

The rest of that day was relaxed. I went for the COVID-PCR test, which surprisingly came out negative, I spent a couple of hours wandering around the city and in the hotel gym.

The following day, I showed up on the ward at 8:30. I found the residents diving in the patients’ files, and I asked if I could join the rounds. I joined the “handover” where the night shift doctor was discussing the patients that were admitted to the ward at night with the ones on duty during the day. The first surprise for me was that the night shift was carried out by an intern alone! The intern looked at me with some sorrow in her eye and said, “I am just an intern”. Theo told me, later, that he had to perform multiple cesarean sections in one night as an intern in some rural hospitals. I listened to the handover. Thorough and competent. My impression, in general, was that the colleagues there were competent and well-educated.

After checking all the new patients and organizing the transfer to proper departments, we went to see the neurological patients. A wide scope of diseases, that I was surprised it could be diagnosed here given the scarce resources. Especially for my medical readers: half of the ward was occupied by HIV-positive patients that had cryptococcal meningitis or toxoplasmosis due to their immunosuppression. Some Strokes, some bleedings, a GBS, a PML with HIV. Tough cases. A few of the cases have refused further medical diagnostics and treatment because they can not afford them. We passed by a patient while having a generalized epileptic seizure. Unfortunately, the hospital does not have an EEG. They have to send the patients to another hospital for EEGs. There is one MRI in the hospital and is obviously completely booked. These conditions make it hard for doctors to do their job and also to advance their knowledge. Sometimes they would wish to know how the MRI of this or that patient looks like, but they can’t because the patient can’t afford it.

Needless to mention, the conditions of the hospital. I promised Theo that I won’t take pictures. However, what can I say? very sick patients beside each other, each bed has a plastic washtub underneath, that the patients use as a toilet. You can imagine the smell of the ward. I refer you to one link that has a photo of a ward here.

After discussing the cases, I thanked my colleagues and wished them all the best. In this place of hope and frustration, holding the post and doing this job is something I respected. I was also thankful for where I work in Switzerland. I think I will approach my daily routine differently when I go back to my daily life.

I left the hospital for my next adventure that day; to which I will dedicate the next post.