computer seances

We have been trying to modernize the outpatient records system here at
Mukinge this week with the help of a visiting Yale graduate (class of
96) who lives in Denver. Currently, our files consist of a series of
colored index cards with frayed edges stapled together in haphazard ways
and stuffed into dilapidated filing cabinets; some of them date back 50
years. So, in an effort to locate records more quickly, we decided to
make a computer database that was searchable by various identifying
characteristics to help us cull through some of the records that don't
get used anymore.
Yesterday was our first day of on the job training. Our start was
hampered by the fact that we don't actually have a power outlet in the
reception room of the outpatient department; after several visits to the
workshop, a failed work order, and an pilfered extension cord, we're
back in business. We have two clerks, neither of whom has ever worked
on a computer before this. We have about 10,000 cards that need to be
put into the system. Edson (like the car) sits down in front of the
computer and begins his typing ritual -- he gradually sways from side to
side, staring at the keyboard, not looking at the screen, humming to
himself, until with a grunt of delight he finds the letter he's looking
for, which he pounces on like a mouse and begins the same ritual again.
He'll do all this without looking at the screen, until the whole name is
entered in; then he'll inspect his work. He bites his knuckle and has a
childlike expression of horror and surprise that the computer would have
screwed up his best intentions if there's a mistake, then proceeds to
erase the whole thing and begin again.
Needless to say, it may be a while before we get all 10,000 put in the
database.