Although not so at Bingham, teachers in Ethiopian schools usually wear white coats. This is ostensibly due to the amount of chalk dust they need to fend off, as blackboards and chalk are often their only teaching aid. As I wrote last year, medical students at the Myungsung Christian College where I mentor a small group all go through a “white coat ceremony” as a sort of rite of passage into clinical medicine.

Doctors from the USA and South Korea often have a personalised white coat with their name and qualifications proudly embroidered above the breast pocket. A consultant from the USA was doing the talk at the medical school “chapel” a few weeks ago and as he was introduced as the speaker he donned his white coat as he walked towards the lectern. There’s something symbolic going on, it would appear.

In my 24 years in British general practice I never wore a white coat. As students we had to wear a short white jacket; only after we qualified were we entitled to wear a long one. But no longer; since 2007 the white coat has disappeared from healthcare in the UK, reputedly because of health and safety concerns. Ties too – which, as ties are the most ridiculous article of male clothing ever invented, is an extremely Good Thing.

But I now live and work in a different culture. I have maintained my tie-free “smart casual” appearance at work here, but I’ve slowly been made aware that this may not be the best way to dress. When I went to Tigist’s father’s funeral I dressed smartly, including a black jacket (which, it turned out, was entirely unnecessary) and a female SIM employee I know fairly well who has a slightly cheeky approach to life commented that I looked “cute”. (This was, I later discovered, a compliment and a means of encouraging me to dress like this more often. I doubt she fully grasped how to use the English word “cute” though, and it’s perhaps a good thing I’m not American!)

On our twice-yearly visits to the UK we always order things to be delivered to our family members for us to bring back here. We were in the UK last week, and on this occasion amongst the school books, medical equipment, medications (yes I’ve found a way of buying prescription medications without incurring the wrath of the GMC), cheese, bacon, chocolate, football boots (not for me) and spare propellers for my quadcopter, was a white coat. I resisted the temptation to have my name embroidered on it, but now I sit in my consulting room resplendent in my new coat, and according to Sister Aster I will engender a modicum more respect from my Ethiopian patients as I now not only behave like a doctor, I actually look like one. And as this article from the Northampton Chronicle and Echo last July says, the NHS is about to follow my lead.

After a relatively uneventful return from Zanzibar we headed off south down the splendid new “Expressway” to Sodere for the SIM “Spiritual Life Conference”. Hurtling down a motorway at 80mph and coming across a herd of goats wandering around in the road (on the way down) and a huge bull strolling up the outside lane (on the way back) makes for very careful driving. The conference went off well, despite our accommodation having only ice-cold water to shower with. (Which was slightly ironic, given that the place is built on a hot spring and the swimming pool is as hot as a bath.)

Our week in an unusually sodden and muddy Norfolk gave us a wonderful few days with the family and the grandchildren. What a joy it is to be able to brush your teeth in tap water, not get bitten by insects, and to be able to go to the cinema with the kids and see “Star Wars” on an IMAX screen in 3D. Roll on June – our next trip is all booked.