I applied for a job in Samoa which had a very wide range of facets.  Some things would be fairly easy, others might justify the guzzling of expensive duty-free whisky purchases.  Then, within weeks of arriving, I got news that the job would expand in responsibility massively and all national animal health decisions would pass my desk.  I would either survive or run whimpering home every night to lick my wounds.   Hopefully the former.  But this anticipated role expansion got delayed.  And then delayed.  And then got discussed no more.  My mention of the topic was unwelcome.  Now eight months on I still have no idea whether this role will kick in tomorrow, or never.  Literally.

In addition, or, as it turns out, subtraction, my role has drastically shrunk from the original.

In Samoa, Samoan veterinarians are more rare than wearehamlin@blogspot blogs.  To fill the gap, someone clever invented “para-vets”.  Para-vets are technicians with basic skills in treating animals.  Certainly someone needs to hand out penicillin and grazing advice.  One of my many original responsibilities was to up-skill these para-vets so they might give the right injection to the right cow.  Etc.  But the subtraction comes in when my superiors become determined that all roles disappear except farm visits, as well as training the paravets.  Which is kinda double dipping really.  Either Samoa needs a vet, or Samoa can’t get a vet and needs para-vets.  But actually they want both.

So I’ve come from expecting quite the challenge, to preparing for ultimate responsibility, and then down to a single (double?) role.

But you play the hand you’re dealt though eh?

Ok I think, I quite like these para-vets, they’ve become my friends by now.  But they’re pretty lazy when it comes to work.  How can I play my part in giving some amphetamines to the rather stagnant agriculture sector in Samoa?  The Fijians have a theory based Para-vet teaching manual, but I create a Treatment Guide which is far more practical.  Before getting starting pushing the manual on unsuspecting staff, I construct the baseline test.  Let’s at least get some baseline data so we can see what happens over the next wee while.  I’m nervous about setting this test.  Some of the para-vets don’t read and write very well and I’m sure they’ll think I’m being an unfaithful friend who will show up their weaknesses to the boss.  I promise them that the test is just for us.  The only people who will see it are me and another friend who will translate from Samoan to English.  I set up the driver to be the scribe and we get it stated.  I figure it will take half an hour, but there are delays, and sniggers, and hushed suspicious conversations which go on for some time.  I reiterate that cheating sharing answers is of no value because they are being tested against themselves over time.  Maybe some of them will improve a whole lot in the next few months; or maybe they will be too lazy I will need to change my teaching (sooo diplomatic).

Two and a half hours late they have all finished.  But there is a big surprise.  They LOVE it.  They are asking when the next test will be.  They are all talking about colostrum and water intake and whether ivomec is an antibiotic.  They are bubbling with enthusiasm about their job.  They want to know everything!  I’ve got a confused look on my face wondering where the laziness went. This was just meant to be data collection right?  Maybe I’m the one who has been lazy.  Maybe it was the competition.  I don’t know, but that was a sweet turning point.  One para-vet has recently been promoted and I retested him.  Doubled his score.  Nice.