Day 13: A Feast Fit For a Queen and Some Final Thoughts

A final hello to all! Today marks the end of my Moroccan blog-keeping as Anna and I are leaving the Fondouk tomorrow morning to spend a few days in some of the more southern parts of Morocco before heading home. There is still so much more I could say in this blog, but I am going to keep it short today as to not miss out on any of the eating opportunities that we scheduled for today. Jeremy, Anne, Anna and I already had an elaborate 5-course lunch on the rooftop of the Palais de Fes Dar Tazi, a combination hotel, rug store and top notch restaurant. This food was far superior than the previous 13 days worth of meals combined and the patio was a peaceful and luxurious oasis atop a bustling third world city. Our first course included about 10 little plates of different vegetable salads--a Moroccan anti pasto if you will. We feasted on mashed pumpkins, sweet potatoes, cauliflower salads, lentils and lots of other fun combinations of vegetables that I didn't recognize. Anne had sat us both down ahead of time and given us a serious lecture on the necessity to pace oneself at this meal. We headed her sage advice and were very happy to have enough stomach space for the traditional pigeon pastilla and the chicken tagine that followed. Dessert was a light fruit salad and the final course was coffees and Moroccan tea served with deceptively addicting cookies.
We returned to the Fondouk just a few hours ago to do a final load of laundry and pack our bags which are decidedly heavier than when we arrived. Tonight we're meeting up with the other students, Jeremy and Anne, Dr. Frappier and Houssine, and about 6 other Fondouk employees including several who speak no English or French. We're going out for a farewell dinner and I'm touched that even the maintenance guys want to come with us.
While I hope to have shared the inner workings of large animal veterinary care at the Fondouk, I would remiss not to at least mention the incredible work that is being done on the small animal side. For every two mules we saw, our small animal colleagues were seeing 7-8 small animals. The Fondouk treats everything from cats and dogs to pigeons and peacocks to rabbits and other pocket pets. I saw them do crop surgery on a dove one day and then splint a guinea pig's broken leg the next. 
The small animal side has seen a tremendous increase in the number of animals showing up for care. It has gotten to the point where the volume is just too high, largely because people have figured out that the Moroccan veterinarians can't compete with the level of care provided at the Fondouk, not to mention the fact that all care at the Fondouk is free. As you might imagine this hasn't sat well with the local Moroccan veterinarians. Also, the Fondouk was established in the late 1920s, specifically to serve the working animals of Morocco. It's hard to make a case that house cats and pet dogs fall under that category. 
The Fondouk has been successful in increasing the number of animals who get vaccinated, but convincing the Moroccan people that they need to spay and neuter their animals has proven to be a much more challenging task. The Fondouk has a policy that it does not treat pitbulls, but it's probably going to have to expand that policy to include German Shepherds as well. I can't tell you how many aggressive un-neutered German Shepherds entered the exam room with a muzzle on and left in the arms of their owners, having had to be completely sedated in order to be examined.
Before I wrap this up, I would like to comment on the incredible hospitality we've been shown since the day we stepped into the Fondouk. From Mohammed tracking down postcard stamps to Dr. Frappier driving us all over Morocco on his day off, we have been welcomed and treated like well-respected colleagues and friends. It makes us want to come back again real soon.
While I loved every moment of work we did here at the Fondouk, I am very much looking forward to coming home to see my family and friends (and "Hayden," of course) for the tail end of the holiday season. I've learned so much about the world, veterinary medicine, and about myself these last few weeks that I'm almost overwhelmed thinking about how I should express it here.
While I tried to mentally prepare myself for the emotional toll that this kind of work would have on me, in truth, basically nothing could have prepared me for the hardship and suffering that I witnessed. Every time someone brought in a half-dead sheep and we couldn't save it, it weighed on me that the animal owner would struggle that much more to make ends meet. There were so many times that I wanted to buy someone a sheep or replace their mule that had just fractured it's leg, but that's just not feasible. I didn't come to Morocco to throw money around buying livestock. I came to Morocco to save the livestock I could, relieve the pain and suffering of whatever animals passed through the Fondouk gates, and therefore improve the quality of the owners' life.
One of the things that completely surprised me was the incredible skill of the staff who worked as "technicians" alongside the veterinarians. Houssine was more competent than some American veterinarians I know and did all the impressive surgeries and procedures despite not having had any sort of formal education. He was clearly well-trained by Dr. Frappier but he taught me that you can do a lot of good for a lot of animals without a hundred-thousand dollar education.       
Working at the American Fondouk also put a lot of things in perspective for me and I realize now that good reality check is important once in awhile. Although I have high standards for practicing medicine thanks to my incredible education at Cornell, it turns out that if you practice in a place with sub-standard hygiene and sterility protocols that leave a lot to be desired, animals will survive and the world will go on turning. Although I cringed every time I watched someone reach into an open abdomen without gloves, those animals survived, despite us. Sure, using a new needle each time you stick a new patient is certainly the gold standard. However, it is generally more important to give a patient medication with a possibly-contaminated needle than to not give it at all.
One final thing I learned from my time here in Morocco is that I am cut out for third-world medicine. There were days I wanted to strangle the mule owners for waiting too long to bring in their animals and there were days that I wanted to crawl back into bed and have myself a good cry. However, more often than not, I went to bed knowing that I helped a lot of animals help their owners.
There's no doubt in my mind I'll be back.