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Seeing my confusion, he added, “I’m just here as a temporary doctor. Just like Amy.” He pointed in the direction of one of the other rooms. “We’re both here on twelve-month stints, although Amy started a few weeks ahead of me.”

“So how come you’re still here?”

“Well, did you see an Internet café on your way through town?”

I shook my head idiotically.

“I’m just kidding, Zara. There is obviously no Internet café here. I’m still here because I realized I need to be. When I first arrived, I looked down on this place and at these people. But I forgot the most important thing about being a doctor: my humanity. If you give this place a chance, I promise you won’t regret it. We’ve got the opportunity to really make a difference to people’s lives here…”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Man, I sound preachy, don’t I? Anyway, all I’m saying is, stick around for a month or so and see how you feel. If you still want to leave then, at least you’ve tried. Also—and here’s where the selfish part kicks in—we could do with your help right now. Both the clinic and the school are really understaffed at the moment. So what do you say: a one-month trial?”

Perhaps it was the cool drink and the refreshing towel or simply the thought of getting back on a really long flight, but I was now feeling much calmer and more rational. If they needed me, of course I could handle a month. Smiling at Ismail, I held out my hand, “Deal. But if things don’t work out in a month, it’s the Internet café for me.”

Ismail solemnly took my hand. “Deal. I’ll even drive you to Windhoek myself. Now let’s get you settled in. Usually all the volunteers live down at the volunteer camp, but because the school is so understaffed at the moment, we need you to supervise the girls’ dorm.”

My face must have completely dropped at this suggestion. Teasingly Ismail said, “They’re girls, not monsters, and it’s just temporary. The school is looking for a replacement teacher as we speak.”

He picked up my things and we started walking through the clinic toward the exit.

“Well, where is the school? I didn’t see it on the way in.” I was trying to buy some thinking time.

“Not far from here. It’s about 250 meters from the clinic, so if you really can’t handle sixty little girls, all you need to do is scream and I’ll come and get you.”

I blanched at this, “Sixty girls? Are you crazy? I’ve never been in charge of any kids before. There’s no way I can handle sixty of them!”

Ismail halted in his tracks and put my bag on the clinic floor. He earnestly studied my face for a moment. “Zara, I know it’s a lot to ask of you. But if you don’t stay in the dorm, it will be shut down. The kids live in villages miles away from here. It’s too far and too dangerous for them to walk to school every day. It’s only because the school is free and provides them with a roof over their head and meals that they’re even allowed to attend. Many of the locals don’t value education, especially not for girls. Girls around here get married as young as thirteen or fourteen and start having babies straight away. What kind of a life is that?”

I stood there pondering what Ismail had said. Outside the fly-wire door of the clinic, I could see some very young-looking mothers cradling babies on their laps.

“Well, aren’t there some women from the village who can sleep in the dorm with the girls, or even some fathers who can help out?”

“Zara, these are overworked poor women. They do everything—the cooking, the cleaning, the child-rearing—they even help build their own houses. Like I told you, most of them don’t even value education, so it’s not like we’re inundated with offers.”

“But what about the men?” I said hopefully.

Ismail rolled his eyes. “Zara, do you think it’s a good idea putting a man in charge of a girls’ dorm? It wouldn’t happen back home, would it? Plus, bushmen are typically nomads. They’re often away from the village for long stretches of time herding cattle.”

Clearly, I’d reached a dead end.

“Ismail, I’m not saying I won’t do it; I’m just not sure if I can do it.”

Ismail put his hands on his hips. “So tell me, what do you do back home, Zara?”

Ah, my opportunity. “Well, I’m a lawyer actually, an M&A lawyer, so as you can see I’m very ill equipped to deal with sixty children!”

“Lawyers are smart, tenacious, resourceful and work long hours. You’ll be perfect!”

Exasperatedly I threw my hands up into the air. “Fine, a month. And if anything goes wrong I’m holding you responsible.”

Grinning, Ismail picked up my bags again and led the way out of the clinic.

By now there was only a small group of people waiting outside the clinic. Ismail smiled at all of them and said, “This is Zara, our new schoolteacher.” No one looked remotely enthusiastic except for Gabi, who was still hanging about. She clapped her hands excitedly.

I snorted to myself,
From dorm mistress to schoolteacher in less than thirty seconds—what next?

“Okay, everyone, I’m taking Zara over to the school, but I’ll be back in just a few minutes and will attend to all of you then.”

At this, the small crowd seemed to perk up a bit.

“What do you mean? Are all of these people waiting to see you?”

“Well, me or Amy.”

“But why are they all here?” I wondered aloud.

“Oh, various ailments. At the moment it’s mainly stomach upsets. As you no doubt noticed on your way in, the drought has been very severe. What little water is left is often contaminated. People, cattle, dogs, and wild animals are all drinking from the same source.”

“What happens if they drink the water?”

“Usually diarrhea, vomiting, stomach cramps…but in extreme cases death can result.”

Guiltily I thought back to my recent iced water. “But what else can they drink if they can’t drink the water?”

“The school, the clinic, and the volunteer camp have very large water tanks. We’ve been getting them filled every month or so. It’s enough for most people, but not for all. There are plans to start building a few dams around here next year.”

In order to keep up with Ismail’s long strides, I basically had to jog. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Gabi tagging along behind us.

“By the way, Ismail, you were wrong about me.”

“Let me guess: you’re not smart?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“You’re not tenacious or resourceful?”

“Wrong again. Earlier you called me American, but I’m actually Australian. I just happen to live in New York and have picked up a bit of an accent.”

“So tell me, what brings a young, attractive, Australian-born but American-living lawyer here?” Ismail waved his free hand about.

“It’s complicated…”

“It generally is.”

“Maybe another time, Ismail; you need to get back to the clinic, remember.” I changed the subject. “What about you? Why are you here?”

Ismail stopped for a moment and peered down at me. “Tell you what: if you make it through the first day I’ll cook you dinner and we can exchange war stories.”

By now Gabi had caught up to us and had latched on to Ismail’s leg. Effortlessly he picked her up and spun her around. “How’s my favorite terror today?”

Gabi squealed delightedly. Popping Gabi back on the red dirt, Ismail turned to me and said with mock solemnity, “Gabi, I’d like to formally introduce you to Miss Zara. Miss Zara has come all the way from America to be your teacher, so no monkey business from you.” He gave her hair a ruffle.

Gabi shyly pushed her messy plaits behind her ears. She was covered from head to toe in grime, and her faded pink dress hung off her tiny frame. She stood awkwardly squinting up at me, hopping from foot to foot.

Sighing internally, I extended my now-clean hand out to her, “I’m pleased to meet you, Gabi.”

Gingerly, she shook my hand. Then, grinning up at Ismail, she raced off toward some buildings.

“What are you going to be when you grow up, Gabi?” Ismail called after her.

“A doctor,” she shouted back over her shoulder.

“That’s right,” Ismail yelled after her.

“I see you’ve been busy indoctrinating the locals. Maybe Gabi might prefer to be a lawyer?”

Ismail chuckled. “No indoctrination necessary. Since day one, Gabi has followed me around. Whenever she’s not at school, she’s at the clinic. And she’s a natural; she’s already quite a good bandager.”

“You let her treat patients?” I asked incredulously.

“No, of course not; she just helps out—don’t tell Amy, though. She’ll go nuts.”

“Well, let’s see,” I pretended to be thoughtful. “What say I promise not to tell Amy if you promise never, ever to call me ‘Miss’ Zara again! Zara will do just fine.”

Ismail smiled his assent.

“So what’s Gabi’s story?” I could see that she was waiting for us ahead at what appeared to be the school.

For the first time since I’d met him, a cloud passed over Ismail’s handsome face. “Well, it’s a fairly typical story, really. For all intents and purposes Gabi is an orphan. Her mother contracted HIV a few years ago, no doubt from her father, and when she was diagnosed he abandoned the family. After being sick for about a year, the mother died. Gabi was left supporting her two younger sisters and a brother. Sadly, two of the younger children died, one from malnutrition and the other from diarrhea. Gabi first came to the clinic’s attention when she turned up with the other little girl. She too was very malnourished, but the staff were able to save her. She’s now living with relatives about a hundred kilometers from here.”

“So why is Gabi still here and not living with relatives too?”

Ismail shrugged his shoulders in exasperation. “They couldn’t take her.” Seeing the look on my face, he added, “They’re poor people with kids of their own. They could only afford to feed one more mouth. Gabi got left behind to fend for herself until the girls’ dormitory opened about eighteen months ago.”

Gabi was now skipping in the dust waiting for us to catch up. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the life she’d led.

“Does she really have any chance of becoming a doctor?”

“Absolutely,” Ismail said resolutely. “She’s a very bright little thing and determined as all hell. She’s going to make it.”

“But realistically, who will support her when she leaves this school? She can’t study medicine here.”

“I will,” Ismail fiercely responded. “The kid needs a break, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make that happen. I’ll pay for her school fees, and I’ll find a family to look after her when it’s time for her to leave here.”

By now we’d reached the school. It was bigger than I’d imagined. A number of buildings were clustered around a square. In the center of the square, raggedy-looking children of all ages were playing a variety of games, including soccer and marbles.

“How come these kids aren’t in class?” I inquired, raising my eyebrows disapprovingly.

Ismail smirked. “Do children in Australia or America attend classes on a Sunday?’

“Oh, stupid question. I’d forgotten it was a Sunday. So why are they all still here?”

“These are the boarders. Most of them stay for the weekends because their homes are too far away.”

“Or they want to eat,” Gabi added, looking up at me seriously. Funnily, I hadn’t noticed her by my side.

“Now, Zara, it has been a pleasure meeting you, but I really need to be heading back to the clinic. Gabi, will you take Zara’s hand and show her to the girls’ dormitory? Then take her to meet the principal, okay?”

Gabi beamed up at him before tugging on his pants. Ismail bent down and she stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

Ismail started chuckling and in a whisper loud enough for me to hear responded, “Yes, she is very pretty. I think her hair is real, but you’ll have to ask her yourself.”

Embarrassingly, I found myself blushing. Gabi clapped her hand over her mouth and started giggling.

For a few moments we stood together watching Ismail’s retreating figure. He turned around once to wave at Gabi. It looked like he was still laughing.

Chapter 14

F

or the second time that day, Gabi put her tiny, grubby hand in mine. Tugging, she led me toward a long, low building which I presumed was the girls’ dormitory.

It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the dim light in the dorm. When they did, I could see row after row of flimsy-looking bunk beds. Hooks dotted the wall next to each set of bunk beds, with clothes haphazardly hanging off them.

Gabi led me down toward the end of the dorm. As we went she pointed to clusters of beds—“for big girls,” “for middle girls,” “for little girls.” We stopped in the area for little girls and she proudly showed me her bed and her meager possessions. Two tattered old dresses hung limply on the hooks. A very old stethoscope hung off the wire bed frame. Ducking down, Gabi scrambled under the bed. When she emerged, she was cradling a brand-new-looking woolen doll and the first two Harry Potter books.

“That’s such a nice doll, Gabi; where did you get her?”

She beamed up at me. “Ismail gave it to me for being a good helper. He also gave me this”—she waved at the stethoscope—“ for when I’m a doctor.”

“But why do you keep your doll under the bed, Gabi; wouldn’t she be more comfortable sleeping in your bed?”

Gabi shook her head sadly. “If she’s sleeping in my bed when I’m not there, the other girls take her.”

“Ah, I see.” I nodded sagely. “So what’s her name?”

Gabi looked at me, perplexed. A small furrow creased her brows.

“Doesn’t your doll have a name?”

She shook her head slowly as if naming a doll was a very weird thing to do.

“Maybe you need to think of a name for her?”

Gabi looked at me uncertainly and shrugged her little shoulders as if to say, “This fake-haired lady has some awfully funny ideas.”

Just up from Gabi’s bed, a wooden screen half-hid a sagging single bed. “This is where the teacher sleeps.” Gabi looked up at me anxiously to see how I would react.

I inwardly sighed and repeated to myself:
this is only for a month, this is only for a month.
Faking a smile, I said, “Thank you, Gabi; this is lovely.” Gabi looked very pleased.