I've been back from Uganda for a little more than a week now. After slacking off on my blog for quite a while, I decided to go back and fill you in on some of the major stories and pictures I skipped. Enjoy!
It is great to be back in the US. I celebrated my sisters beautiful wedding this past Saturday and now I'm scrambling to finish up my end-of-semester school work.
I don't know what is next, but I hope to soon find a job I can enjoy and one that will enable me to put down some more permanent roots.
Thanks for reading!
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
My People
In no particular order, here is the cast of characters who made my crazy three months in Masindi worthwhile...
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| Me with Amanda (my directors wife and a super supportive friend) and Alex (one of the clinic docs) |
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| My buddy Wilson. He was always super protective and concerned for me. He was a loyal friend from day one. Don't know what I would I have done without him. |
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| Christine, my brainy Quickbooks copilot. She taught me a lot about accounting. |
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| Mustafa my crazy boda driver, ambassador to all white people in Masindi, and more full of personality than any picture can capture. |
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| Gilbert, a clinic nurse, my most eager computer student, and a caring friend. |
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| Brian, a janitor at the clinic, another great student, and an overall sweetheart. |
Forms of Resistance
"Julie, something terrible has happened." Patrick told me. He
showed me his brand new, expensive phone. It had just fallen on the
ground and was looking worse for the wear.
"Do you know who is responsible for this?" He asked me very seriously.
"Museveni?" I asked.
"Yes." he nodded, as a chorus of giggles burst out all around the office.
Uganda has had the same president for decades. Many citizens are quite tired of him and do not believe he is an effective leader for their country anymore.
Some fear to speak out against him, others are just a bit too jaded about politics to complain openly about him. But they still find ways to undermine him.
A popular joke among the clinic staff was to blame him for any absurd thing that went wrong in their lives. Premature balding, a stolen bike, a missed bus, a cough. Who was to blame? Museveni. The explanations for how he arranged for these annoyances were quite creative and varied.
It may not be the most effective form of resistance. But an interesting coping mechanism all the same. And a fun way to let of steam, if nothing else.
"Do you know who is responsible for this?" He asked me very seriously.
"Museveni?" I asked.
"Yes." he nodded, as a chorus of giggles burst out all around the office.
Uganda has had the same president for decades. Many citizens are quite tired of him and do not believe he is an effective leader for their country anymore.
Some fear to speak out against him, others are just a bit too jaded about politics to complain openly about him. But they still find ways to undermine him.
A popular joke among the clinic staff was to blame him for any absurd thing that went wrong in their lives. Premature balding, a stolen bike, a missed bus, a cough. Who was to blame? Museveni. The explanations for how he arranged for these annoyances were quite creative and varied.
It may not be the most effective form of resistance. But an interesting coping mechanism all the same. And a fun way to let of steam, if nothing else.
Basket Making
This is Constance, my neighbor. I had to walk through her families compound every day on my way to and from the clinic so I was up in their business pretty much all the time. They were always kind and friendly to me.
I asked Constance to teach me how to weave a basket out of grass, and she did. I'm holding the completed basket in the top picture. I'll admit, I had a lot of help in finishing it...
Gulu Visit
About six weeks ago, I traveled to Gulu to visit Jocelyn. I forgot to take many pictures of my visit, but I did want to document it here. Better late than never?
My bus journey was complete with the typical set backs and break downs that characterize most of my travel in Africa. This is the "rest stop" in Kafu where I ended up chilling for about an hour and a half trying to transfer buses. Whenever a bus rolls through, the vendors race out to crowd around and hold up their food items for sale through the bus windows. It was fascinating to observe a slice of their life for a time. I met many prospective spouses here.
But it was all worth it to get to Gulu. Gulu is a fun little town with lots of great food and interesting stuff to do. I spent part of the first day helping Jocelyn out at Krochet Kids where she works.
On a quest to make chips and salsa, I went to the market in search of ingredients and got caught in a major downpour. Some of the market women invited me into their stall where I waited out the rain for about a half an hour.
We ate well! Good chips and salsa were had, along with some delicious pizza, omelets, Lebanese, and Ethiopian foods. We also strolled around town, went to church, got sun burned, played banana-grams, met her colleagues, hung out with her kittens, and I got to have an extended Swahili conversation with her guard. It was a splendid visit. :-) Thanks for being a great hostess, JC.
My bus journey was complete with the typical set backs and break downs that characterize most of my travel in Africa. This is the "rest stop" in Kafu where I ended up chilling for about an hour and a half trying to transfer buses. Whenever a bus rolls through, the vendors race out to crowd around and hold up their food items for sale through the bus windows. It was fascinating to observe a slice of their life for a time. I met many prospective spouses here.
But it was all worth it to get to Gulu. Gulu is a fun little town with lots of great food and interesting stuff to do. I spent part of the first day helping Jocelyn out at Krochet Kids where she works.
On a quest to make chips and salsa, I went to the market in search of ingredients and got caught in a major downpour. Some of the market women invited me into their stall where I waited out the rain for about a half an hour.
Traffic Jam
There were definitely some advantages of living in rural Uganda. Such as rarely having to deal with Kampala traffic like this.
Lizards
One of the less horrifying creatures which were part of my life in Masindi were wall lizards like this one, shown eating a cockroach.
Maddy was a big fan of these. She would spot them and draw them to my attention, and I enjoyed obliging her by knocking them down with a broom.
But those lizards mamas didn't raise no fools. As the lizards hit the ground, this crazy thing happened. Their tails fell off! And the tails went crazy, jumping around all over the ground, to Maddy's delight.
Meanwhile, the rest of the lizard would skitter away to safety. However, it was only a matter of time before Maddy spotted the stump-tailed lizards and pleaded with me to knock them down again. After that... the lizards were all out of tricks. Sorry dudes. Adios.
Maddy was a big fan of these. She would spot them and draw them to my attention, and I enjoyed obliging her by knocking them down with a broom.
But those lizards mamas didn't raise no fools. As the lizards hit the ground, this crazy thing happened. Their tails fell off! And the tails went crazy, jumping around all over the ground, to Maddy's delight.
Meanwhile, the rest of the lizard would skitter away to safety. However, it was only a matter of time before Maddy spotted the stump-tailed lizards and pleaded with me to knock them down again. After that... the lizards were all out of tricks. Sorry dudes. Adios.
Ants Part II
A few weeks after this first frightening ant near-miss, my guard woke me up yet again in the middle of the night, asking me to come quickly. There was no electricity that night, but in the darkness I perceived a great commotion coming from the neighbors house.
Their house had just been invaded by red ants. The ants had entered the small one-room house and attacked the family as they slept. My guard advised me that we needed to surround my house with kerosene in order to prevent the ants from visiting me too. So I prepared a basin with water, he stirred in some kerosene, and we used a tree branch to sweep a diluted kerosene trail around the house.
Now, the funny thing about working at a medical clinic is that everyone in the village decides that you are a doctor. Despite my continual insistence that I am not one, nobody ever really quite believed me. Many people approached me with various health problems and became very frustrated that I refused to give a medical opinion. So the neighbor appeared at my house with his young daughter of about six years. She was wearing only a shirt, presumably the rest of her clothes had been removed because they were covered in ants. The girl was whimpering.
Her father pleaded with me, please help her. "What is wrong?" I asked, frightened to even hear the answer. The ants were inside her ear.
Water in the ear ended up doing the trick.
I had a hard time getting back to sleep that night, too. Especially when a pouring rain came a few hours later and washed away all the kerosene.
This is the view of the neighbors house from my window. They live behind the white door on the left.
Their house had just been invaded by red ants. The ants had entered the small one-room house and attacked the family as they slept. My guard advised me that we needed to surround my house with kerosene in order to prevent the ants from visiting me too. So I prepared a basin with water, he stirred in some kerosene, and we used a tree branch to sweep a diluted kerosene trail around the house.
Now, the funny thing about working at a medical clinic is that everyone in the village decides that you are a doctor. Despite my continual insistence that I am not one, nobody ever really quite believed me. Many people approached me with various health problems and became very frustrated that I refused to give a medical opinion. So the neighbor appeared at my house with his young daughter of about six years. She was wearing only a shirt, presumably the rest of her clothes had been removed because they were covered in ants. The girl was whimpering.
Her father pleaded with me, please help her. "What is wrong?" I asked, frightened to even hear the answer. The ants were inside her ear.
Water in the ear ended up doing the trick.
I had a hard time getting back to sleep that night, too. Especially when a pouring rain came a few hours later and washed away all the kerosene.
Ants Part I
Uganda is home to more types of ants than I have ever seen before. They can be found crawling on nearly every possible surface, indoor and outdoor... tiny ones, big ones, red ones, white ones, black ones, multi-colored ones, harmless ones, evil ones.
They are industrious and organized, strategic and completely undaunted by any effort to barricade or contain them.
I hate them.
One night, my guard woke me up, urgently calling from outside my bedroom window. I stumbled outside in a confused haze and he alerted me to a column of fearsome ants which was marching up the wall of my house and pouring into my bathroom. Some of them were safari ants.
Safari ants travel around in large groups. It is best not to interfere with them, but just stay out of their way. Legend has it that they can even consume a goat if it is tied up.
My first interaction with safari ants was in Naivasha, Kenya when we camped with Core Group. The ants gave us no rest... all you need to do is stand in one spot for a few seconds and they skitter up your ankles. They do not bite right away, but they take their time, get in position, and then seem to signal each other. Then they all chomp down at once. And it hurts a lot.
After further inspection, I found that some ants were in fact entering through my shower and circling the periphery of the bedroom. But their little line made it as far as my cats litter box and then all the ants seemed to be turning around to go back where they came from. I called everyone I knew, but nobody answered their phone. What could I do, it was the middle of the night? My guard had no advice. The best I could do was shift my bedding and kitty into the guest room and try to go back to sleep. It is not easy to sleep when you fear an ant invasion. Every itch becomes suspicious and it is hard to talk yourself out of the sensation that things are crawling all over you...
The ant attack never escalated beyond that. A few of them bit my ankles and a few of them bit my kitty in between her toes. But overall, we emerged triumphant.
They are industrious and organized, strategic and completely undaunted by any effort to barricade or contain them.
I hate them.
One night, my guard woke me up, urgently calling from outside my bedroom window. I stumbled outside in a confused haze and he alerted me to a column of fearsome ants which was marching up the wall of my house and pouring into my bathroom. Some of them were safari ants.
Safari ants travel around in large groups. It is best not to interfere with them, but just stay out of their way. Legend has it that they can even consume a goat if it is tied up.
My first interaction with safari ants was in Naivasha, Kenya when we camped with Core Group. The ants gave us no rest... all you need to do is stand in one spot for a few seconds and they skitter up your ankles. They do not bite right away, but they take their time, get in position, and then seem to signal each other. Then they all chomp down at once. And it hurts a lot.
After further inspection, I found that some ants were in fact entering through my shower and circling the periphery of the bedroom. But their little line made it as far as my cats litter box and then all the ants seemed to be turning around to go back where they came from. I called everyone I knew, but nobody answered their phone. What could I do, it was the middle of the night? My guard had no advice. The best I could do was shift my bedding and kitty into the guest room and try to go back to sleep. It is not easy to sleep when you fear an ant invasion. Every itch becomes suspicious and it is hard to talk yourself out of the sensation that things are crawling all over you...
The ant attack never escalated beyond that. A few of them bit my ankles and a few of them bit my kitty in between her toes. But overall, we emerged triumphant.
It was a regular occurrence to come across ant columns crossing foot paths like this. You just have to leap over and hope for the best. Yet, on a few occasions, they still found their way into my shoes, which led to some very ungraceful and frantic dancing on my part.
I hate them.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Kedra's Cooking
This is Kedra.
She came to my house to clean and do laundry once a week.
She has a difficult life. She is a single mother of two young boys and work is scarce. Yet, she is an extremely joyful and fun loving person. She inspires me in many ways.
Each week I asked her to cook dinner and let her choose what to make. One day I came home to find this live chicken inside the house. This startled me.
This is what Maddy thought of the chicken.
But we both came around later that day... it was delicious!
Getting Around
Everyone uses bodas in Masindi... even chickens. This one is being transported live, tied upside down to a handlebar.
Giant Spider
An unwanted house guest who appeared in my kitchen sink.
I think it was probably poisonous.
It was so big I was afraid to smash it so I trapped it in a jar. Wilson killed it for me.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
How to Avoid Death on The Nile
My friend Emily's summary of our rafting adventure...
The Newlin Weds: how to avoid death on The Nile: Somehow we did it...I'm not really sure how...but I can tell you the things not to do in order to stay alive while white water rafting The ...
The Newlin Weds: how to avoid death on The Nile: Somehow we did it...I'm not really sure how...but I can tell you the things not to do in order to stay alive while white water rafting The ...
Souvenir
I busted my face open rafting the Nile on Saturday.
That crease above the bruise is super glued together
I also lost my shorts in the rapids.
I am not making this up.
Bringing Up Maddy
Now that I've been getting to know her for two months, I thought I should give my kitten a more proper introduction to the blogosphere.
Full Name: Madeline "Maddy" Aboli
Nicknames: Ladybug, Monster
Age: About 3 months
Favorite things: shoes, crinkly plastic things, ribbons, talapia, chicken
Favorite activities: Biting, pouncing, running sideways, climbing mosquito nets, jumping straight into the air for no reason, hitting keys on the laptop, sleeping, snuggling on shoulders, keeping her white socks clean, riding on my flip flops like scooters.
Vices: Fearless, stubborn, has been known to chase after frightened children
Hidden Talent: Can burrow underneath a heavy blanket and sleep for hours with no need for oxygen
Greatest struggle: Possible gender confusion. I'm not totally convinced she's a girl!
What she wants to be when she grows up: the fattest cat in Masindi
Full Name: Madeline "Maddy" Aboli
Nicknames: Ladybug, Monster
Age: About 3 months
Favorite things: shoes, crinkly plastic things, ribbons, talapia, chicken
Favorite activities: Biting, pouncing, running sideways, climbing mosquito nets, jumping straight into the air for no reason, hitting keys on the laptop, sleeping, snuggling on shoulders, keeping her white socks clean, riding on my flip flops like scooters.
Vices: Fearless, stubborn, has been known to chase after frightened children
Hidden Talent: Can burrow underneath a heavy blanket and sleep for hours with no need for oxygen
Greatest struggle: Possible gender confusion. I'm not totally convinced she's a girl!
What she wants to be when she grows up: the fattest cat in Masindi
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Good Day
I had a sweet birthday.
Training the staff and making sure they are complying with the appropriate procedures in the computer system has been a real bear for the last few weeks, but today there was definite progress which was a big encouragement.
Then Amanda, my director's wife, cooked a delicious meal in my honor and we had a little party. Thai food, legit salad and brownies for dessert. :-) We had a small gathering with the two of them, Wilson, and Mustafa. Those guys are a riot when they get together. A recurring topic of the evening was Wilson and Mustafa trying to learn how to pronounce the name "Arnold Schwarzenegger." It was the cause of much animation and laughter.
The dinner went kind of late, so Mustafa gave Wilson and I a ride home on his boda. The whole way to my house, the two of them competed over serenading me in strange, falsetto versions of the Happy Birthday song. It was so absolutely ridiculous; I couldn't help but be touched and embarrassed all at the same time.
I really enjoy the unselfconscious and silly style of humor here sometimes. Something about it is so endearingly innocent and simple. At the same time, to me it demonstrates an underlying wisdom born of a rather hard life. Life is difficult, times are tough, and there isn't always much hope of things improving. Yet people find reasons to rejoice anyway, in the midst of all of it.
Training the staff and making sure they are complying with the appropriate procedures in the computer system has been a real bear for the last few weeks, but today there was definite progress which was a big encouragement.
Then Amanda, my director's wife, cooked a delicious meal in my honor and we had a little party. Thai food, legit salad and brownies for dessert. :-) We had a small gathering with the two of them, Wilson, and Mustafa. Those guys are a riot when they get together. A recurring topic of the evening was Wilson and Mustafa trying to learn how to pronounce the name "Arnold Schwarzenegger." It was the cause of much animation and laughter.
The dinner went kind of late, so Mustafa gave Wilson and I a ride home on his boda. The whole way to my house, the two of them competed over serenading me in strange, falsetto versions of the Happy Birthday song. It was so absolutely ridiculous; I couldn't help but be touched and embarrassed all at the same time.
I really enjoy the unselfconscious and silly style of humor here sometimes. Something about it is so endearingly innocent and simple. At the same time, to me it demonstrates an underlying wisdom born of a rather hard life. Life is difficult, times are tough, and there isn't always much hope of things improving. Yet people find reasons to rejoice anyway, in the midst of all of it.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Create Your Own Adventure
This morning I walked out to my trash pit as usual to empty my kitty's litter box. My trash pit is about 10 feet deep, smelly, and home to a lot of happy creepy crawlies. I'm content to just hold my breath and dispose of my waste everyday and not give the pit much thought. Until today. The litter box slipped out of my hands as I dumped it and fell in. Oh no. I was dressed in my office clothes and ready to go to work. And my cat needed her potty!
In hopes of stimulating some more commentary on here, I would like to invite the audience to guess what I did. Wild guesses are encouraged.
In hopes of stimulating some more commentary on here, I would like to invite the audience to guess what I did. Wild guesses are encouraged.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Computers and Numbers
I haven't posted in a week or so. I did not have much internet access or electricity all of last week. This week things have just been madness. I am in charge of implementing a new inventory system for the clinic pharmacy, which started on October 1. It's rough going, but I see the light at the end of the tunnel. Most days I see it, anyway.
Some encouraging things have been happening. My computer lessons with the staff are going well. So far we've worked on learning Word, Excel, and general computer knowledge. Last week I started giving typing classes. I wonder if this was partly from selfish motives because I get so impatient watching them slowly peck out one letter at a time? Anyway, I see my students bragging about their newly acquired typing skills or hidden in some corner of the clinic practicing regularly. So I think they are appreciating the classes quite a bit.
In the class where I taught Excel, the task I gave them was to each create a budget for their personal finances. The three guys who went through the exercise were completely amazed... not so much by the functions of Excel, but to see what they were spending their money on. They immediately started making plans for saving money, finding alternative sources of income, and cutting costs. It gave me a lot of ideas for future classes touching on different aspects of financial management and personal development.
Computers and numbers... two things I have always tried to NOT make my life about, have somehow caught up with me anyway. Sneaky sneaky.
Some encouraging things have been happening. My computer lessons with the staff are going well. So far we've worked on learning Word, Excel, and general computer knowledge. Last week I started giving typing classes. I wonder if this was partly from selfish motives because I get so impatient watching them slowly peck out one letter at a time? Anyway, I see my students bragging about their newly acquired typing skills or hidden in some corner of the clinic practicing regularly. So I think they are appreciating the classes quite a bit.
In the class where I taught Excel, the task I gave them was to each create a budget for their personal finances. The three guys who went through the exercise were completely amazed... not so much by the functions of Excel, but to see what they were spending their money on. They immediately started making plans for saving money, finding alternative sources of income, and cutting costs. It gave me a lot of ideas for future classes touching on different aspects of financial management and personal development.
Computers and numbers... two things I have always tried to NOT make my life about, have somehow caught up with me anyway. Sneaky sneaky.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Posters
There is a brucellosis outbreak here in Uganda. It is spread through drinking unpasteurized milk or handling raw meat of infected animals. We've been treating a lot of people for it at the clinic, so I was asked to make some educational signs to hang around the office.
I did. I even included cheesy clip art (one of a guy milking a cow, another of a butcher chopping meat). Then someone else translated the sign into Runyoro, and we will hang both posters around the office. That's public health. That's cool.
But as I walked home last night it dawned on me- I will probably never know if those signs have any effect. A medical doctor can quantify exactly how many people they have cured and assisted. But a public health practitioner will rarely (if ever) know the real impact of their preventative initiatives. That stinks.
I did. I even included cheesy clip art (one of a guy milking a cow, another of a butcher chopping meat). Then someone else translated the sign into Runyoro, and we will hang both posters around the office. That's public health. That's cool.
But as I walked home last night it dawned on me- I will probably never know if those signs have any effect. A medical doctor can quantify exactly how many people they have cured and assisted. But a public health practitioner will rarely (if ever) know the real impact of their preventative initiatives. That stinks.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
I Love Maps
It took me a while, but I finally found some decent maps of Uganda. Can you spot Masindi?
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Intervention
Today started out like a normal day. But it soon had me caught up in a rather compelling story, with many twists and turns.
10:30am: A young girl appeared out of nowhere and cornered me in the corridor of the clinic, shook my hand and refused to let go as she made a plea for her family. With a trembling voice, she explained to me that she was an orphan. She is being raised by her aunt, but her aunt traveled to a nearby town two weeks ago and the food she left had run out. The family was hungry and needed charcoal. She said she saw me around town and came to find me to ask for help. Her name is Sunny Asinye and she is a seventh grader.
I told her to have a seat and went to ask Joseph what I should do.
11am-11:45: Various staff interviewed her. By all appearances, her story was true. She is one of the Compassion children that we had screened this past Saturday.
12pm: Joseph and I discussed the situation and agreed we would send Wilson with her into town to buy charcoal and other needed goods.
12:15: We called her into Joseph's office to tell her the plan. As we spoke to her, all of a sudden the Head Teacher from her school happened to walk up to the door. Coincidentally, she was there at the clinic being treated.
The head teacher came in, saw Sunny there, and immediately started fussing. Sunny had not been in school for about two months, always claiming to be ill. Suddenly all eyes were on Sunny and she was visibly upset. She couldn't make eye contact with anyone and she looked like she wanted to die. Joseph spoke to her sternly about how important school is and how she must go, she cannot throw her future away. The head teacher left. We checked out her past clinic medical records and they did not reveal any serious illnesses. Sunny surely felt pretty trapped.
12:45 We agreed that we would follow through on the plan to buy the groceries. Sunny asked if we would pray for her. Joseph summoned Beatrice, another clinic staff who has been very involved with the Compassion children. The five of us stood and held hands and Beatrice began praying fervently in Runyoro for quite a while. After a few minutes, Sunny started weeping and choking. She partially collapsed and would not get up. Her life is pretty hard and she was surely overwhelmed. But it definitely appeared to be more than that, almost like she was in pain. Presbyterians like me don't know much about these things, but it looked like a manifestation of something or other.
1:00 Beatrice took the girl aside and they talked for a long time. The girl decided to seek treatment from the doctor, so she went and got a few medications.
1:45 Finally we were ready to be on our way. It was decided that with the girl acting as emotional as she was, it wouldn't be good to send her out with Wilson alone. Joseph and I accompanied them.
2:00 We stopped by Compassion headquarters to let them know about the situation. At Compassion they verified her story, yes she was an orphan and had been receiving a lot of assistance. Her Compassion sponsor had cancelled a while ago and so she actually didn't have anyone supporting her financially anymore. Still, the local Compassion workers were doing what they could for her and paying her school fees somehow.
The Compassion guy also explained that the reason she hadn't been going to school was because the Head Teacher had been beating her so severely. They said there was some sort of animosity between the two. They said they would accompany her to school tomorrow and try to work out whatever the issue was between her and the teacher.
2:30 We went to the market and Wilson went to buy the groceries while the rest of us stayed in the car. I asked Sunny what the situation was with her and the head teacher. She said the head teacher beats her and tells her in front of the other students how her parents died of AIDS, even though they did not die of AIDS. As soon as she mentioned her parents she started crying huge tears.
We asked her how her parents died. She said she doesn't even remember her mom, she died when she was very young. She said there was some jealousy between her father and his half brothers, some kind of witchcraft occurred, and her father got a disease where he swelled up and died.
3:00 We arrived at Sunny's house. Her aunt had gotten home from her journey. There were three other small children there (Sunny's cousins), all of whom had visible burn marks on their bodies and kwashiorkor bellies. Their house was a dark, one room dwelling. The aunt was appreciative of the groceries. Joseph talked to her at length, re verified all the stories from earlier in the day, and exhorted her to take Sunny's education seriously and follow up with the Head Teacher at school. If they couldn't work something out, he advised sending Sunny to a different school.
Seventh grade is a really crucial year in the school system here, Sunny is going to be taking her tests to qualify for high school in just a few months. According to the people we interviewed today, she is a really keen student. But right now she is very behind. She really needs to be in school.
3:45pm Joseph, Wilson, and I returned to the clinic tired, sun-scorched and wondering what exactly had happened in the last five hours.
No less than 8 people were involved in trying to get meaningful help for Sunny today, and it consumed a huge chunk of the work day. But there is the potential that our interventions today could impact her for the rest of her life.
I feel words can't even do justice to all I felt as this was going on and the incredible sorrow I felt for Sunny. I have no idea what it means to live a life of such desperation that she would go to the other side of town to seek out a mzungu she saw in passing a few days ago, just in hopes of getting some cooking fuel. I tell her story here and hope that it can speak for itself.
One thing I know is that I love my fellow clinic staff more than ever today. I love working for an organization that cares so much for the population they serve that they would give up an entire work day to get involved in the life of one needy girl. The fact that the staff are members of this community is so important. I never could have gotten to the bottom of any of these issues on my own.
If any of my readers out there feel inclined to get involved with Sunny, contact me. Compassion is still seeking a new sponsor for her. It would also be ideal to find sponsorship for her to go to a boarding high school next year.
Peace, friends. Cherish life.
10:30am: A young girl appeared out of nowhere and cornered me in the corridor of the clinic, shook my hand and refused to let go as she made a plea for her family. With a trembling voice, she explained to me that she was an orphan. She is being raised by her aunt, but her aunt traveled to a nearby town two weeks ago and the food she left had run out. The family was hungry and needed charcoal. She said she saw me around town and came to find me to ask for help. Her name is Sunny Asinye and she is a seventh grader.
I told her to have a seat and went to ask Joseph what I should do.
11am-11:45: Various staff interviewed her. By all appearances, her story was true. She is one of the Compassion children that we had screened this past Saturday.
12pm: Joseph and I discussed the situation and agreed we would send Wilson with her into town to buy charcoal and other needed goods.
12:15: We called her into Joseph's office to tell her the plan. As we spoke to her, all of a sudden the Head Teacher from her school happened to walk up to the door. Coincidentally, she was there at the clinic being treated.
The head teacher came in, saw Sunny there, and immediately started fussing. Sunny had not been in school for about two months, always claiming to be ill. Suddenly all eyes were on Sunny and she was visibly upset. She couldn't make eye contact with anyone and she looked like she wanted to die. Joseph spoke to her sternly about how important school is and how she must go, she cannot throw her future away. The head teacher left. We checked out her past clinic medical records and they did not reveal any serious illnesses. Sunny surely felt pretty trapped.
12:45 We agreed that we would follow through on the plan to buy the groceries. Sunny asked if we would pray for her. Joseph summoned Beatrice, another clinic staff who has been very involved with the Compassion children. The five of us stood and held hands and Beatrice began praying fervently in Runyoro for quite a while. After a few minutes, Sunny started weeping and choking. She partially collapsed and would not get up. Her life is pretty hard and she was surely overwhelmed. But it definitely appeared to be more than that, almost like she was in pain. Presbyterians like me don't know much about these things, but it looked like a manifestation of something or other.
1:00 Beatrice took the girl aside and they talked for a long time. The girl decided to seek treatment from the doctor, so she went and got a few medications.
1:45 Finally we were ready to be on our way. It was decided that with the girl acting as emotional as she was, it wouldn't be good to send her out with Wilson alone. Joseph and I accompanied them.
2:00 We stopped by Compassion headquarters to let them know about the situation. At Compassion they verified her story, yes she was an orphan and had been receiving a lot of assistance. Her Compassion sponsor had cancelled a while ago and so she actually didn't have anyone supporting her financially anymore. Still, the local Compassion workers were doing what they could for her and paying her school fees somehow.
The Compassion guy also explained that the reason she hadn't been going to school was because the Head Teacher had been beating her so severely. They said there was some sort of animosity between the two. They said they would accompany her to school tomorrow and try to work out whatever the issue was between her and the teacher.
2:30 We went to the market and Wilson went to buy the groceries while the rest of us stayed in the car. I asked Sunny what the situation was with her and the head teacher. She said the head teacher beats her and tells her in front of the other students how her parents died of AIDS, even though they did not die of AIDS. As soon as she mentioned her parents she started crying huge tears.
We asked her how her parents died. She said she doesn't even remember her mom, she died when she was very young. She said there was some jealousy between her father and his half brothers, some kind of witchcraft occurred, and her father got a disease where he swelled up and died.
3:00 We arrived at Sunny's house. Her aunt had gotten home from her journey. There were three other small children there (Sunny's cousins), all of whom had visible burn marks on their bodies and kwashiorkor bellies. Their house was a dark, one room dwelling. The aunt was appreciative of the groceries. Joseph talked to her at length, re verified all the stories from earlier in the day, and exhorted her to take Sunny's education seriously and follow up with the Head Teacher at school. If they couldn't work something out, he advised sending Sunny to a different school.
Seventh grade is a really crucial year in the school system here, Sunny is going to be taking her tests to qualify for high school in just a few months. According to the people we interviewed today, she is a really keen student. But right now she is very behind. She really needs to be in school.
3:45pm Joseph, Wilson, and I returned to the clinic tired, sun-scorched and wondering what exactly had happened in the last five hours.
No less than 8 people were involved in trying to get meaningful help for Sunny today, and it consumed a huge chunk of the work day. But there is the potential that our interventions today could impact her for the rest of her life.
I feel words can't even do justice to all I felt as this was going on and the incredible sorrow I felt for Sunny. I have no idea what it means to live a life of such desperation that she would go to the other side of town to seek out a mzungu she saw in passing a few days ago, just in hopes of getting some cooking fuel. I tell her story here and hope that it can speak for itself.
One thing I know is that I love my fellow clinic staff more than ever today. I love working for an organization that cares so much for the population they serve that they would give up an entire work day to get involved in the life of one needy girl. The fact that the staff are members of this community is so important. I never could have gotten to the bottom of any of these issues on my own.
If any of my readers out there feel inclined to get involved with Sunny, contact me. Compassion is still seeking a new sponsor for her. It would also be ideal to find sponsorship for her to go to a boarding high school next year.
Peace, friends. Cherish life.
I've Got Skills
There are some things that are such a central part of my life and culture that I have no idea they are there. I have recently realized that I actually have a lot of computer skills. Who knew?
I was doing some work on the computer one day last week and one of the young staff, Brian, stopped everything he was doing, stood beside me and watched for about ten minutes. It seems that nobody around here has ever seen someone type without looking at the keys before. Huh. Yesterday Gilbert did the same. These guys are both in their twenties, so I expected most people of my generation would have some working knowledge of computers. Sadly, not in Masindi.
So great was Gilbert's fascination with my computer usage, that I offered to teach him. He was thrilled. So we made a list of things he wants to learn. The first thing on the list is turning the computer off and on. The last thing is learning how to use Facebook. I suggested Facebook because it will give him a way to keep practicing what we learn.
I'm excited at the opportunity to demystify computers for him. It is such a valuable skill to learn. If all goes well with Gilbert the guinea pig, perhaps others will also wish to participate.
I was doing some work on the computer one day last week and one of the young staff, Brian, stopped everything he was doing, stood beside me and watched for about ten minutes. It seems that nobody around here has ever seen someone type without looking at the keys before. Huh. Yesterday Gilbert did the same. These guys are both in their twenties, so I expected most people of my generation would have some working knowledge of computers. Sadly, not in Masindi.
So great was Gilbert's fascination with my computer usage, that I offered to teach him. He was thrilled. So we made a list of things he wants to learn. The first thing on the list is turning the computer off and on. The last thing is learning how to use Facebook. I suggested Facebook because it will give him a way to keep practicing what we learn.
I'm excited at the opportunity to demystify computers for him. It is such a valuable skill to learn. If all goes well with Gilbert the guinea pig, perhaps others will also wish to participate.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Football Match
Tonight my buddy Wilson took me to watch a football match in town- Manchester United vs Chelsea. There was no electricity (as usual), but the TVs at the bar were running on a generator.
I discovered that I enjoy watching soccer last year during the World Cup. But last night took it to a whole new level. The bar was dark except for the few TV screens and the room was packed with chairs and about a hundred people staring intently at the game. There was such a great energy in the room, a breathless anticipation every time the players neared the goal, communal sighs and cheers and protests. Language barriers were gone, nobody in there seemed to care that I was white. It was great.
Man U won 3-1. Technically I don't support them, but I dared not cheer for Chelsea in that crowd.
It was a pretty boring weekend apart from that. Electricity has been extra bad lately, we've only been getting it for about an hour per day. Hanging out in the dark with the cat is not my ideal way to spend an evening, but it seems to happen more often than not. So needless to say, it was great to get out and do something social and non-clinic related last night.
I discovered that I enjoy watching soccer last year during the World Cup. But last night took it to a whole new level. The bar was dark except for the few TV screens and the room was packed with chairs and about a hundred people staring intently at the game. There was such a great energy in the room, a breathless anticipation every time the players neared the goal, communal sighs and cheers and protests. Language barriers were gone, nobody in there seemed to care that I was white. It was great.
Man U won 3-1. Technically I don't support them, but I dared not cheer for Chelsea in that crowd.
It was a pretty boring weekend apart from that. Electricity has been extra bad lately, we've only been getting it for about an hour per day. Hanging out in the dark with the cat is not my ideal way to spend an evening, but it seems to happen more often than not. So needless to say, it was great to get out and do something social and non-clinic related last night.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Compassion Outreach
Yesterday the clinic did an outreach to help some of the local kids who are sponsored by Compassion International. We measured height and weight and did general health evaluations for 205 children. Since I have a Compassion child in Ethiopia, I was really eager to participate and see how Compassion does things. It was an overwhelming but gratifying day.
There was an army of children. And they were all dressed in matching uniforms. It was a bit disconcerting to walk into the church yard and just see so many hundreds of matching children. The clinic was surprisingly orderly though, the kids were incredibly cooperative and patient. Some waited from 9am until 3pm to be seen and they just sat quietly on benches for most of that time.
Christine and I were in charge of measuring height and weight. After
measuring all the children, we calculated all the relevant ratios and
percentiles according to their age. Most of them were very, very thin,
so it did not come as a surprise that few of them were above the 20th
percentile for their age. Several of them had
HIV.The children who had identified health issues (underweight, skin issues, coughs, etc) will now be scheduled for appointments at the clinic in coming weeks. So it benefits both Compassion and PMI.
As usual, it poured. So we had to quickly move our operations under an overhang after lunch and then make our way home on muddy roads which had turned into rivers. Overall, though, it was a great day. The day was exactly the sort of event that gets my Public Health energies flowing.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Government Hospital
Today my director set up a visit for me to tour the local district hospital in town. Its useful for me to compare our facility to other medical facilities that the poor in this area have access to. I was expecting to see difficult conditions, but I didn't realize it would hit me as hard as it did.
The government run hospitals are all supposedly free. But in actuality, when you show up they have practically no supplies or drugs. They may ask patients to pay for everything starting from the latex exam gloves. Then the pharmacy is typically poorly stocked so patients will have to go elsewhere to buy drugs. So it ends up being more expensive than private clinics (like ours).
I started by meeting the head doctor and the community health specialist, Dr. George and Dr. John, who were both incredibly smiley and almost giddy. Odd. Then another worker took me on a tour from ward to ward.
HIV/AIDS center: This one was run by a private health organization and was bustling with activity. It seemed productive and helpful. 6.7% of the Masindi population is infected.
Men's Ward: The building was constructed in 1922 and has obviously not had much renovation since then. Dozens of beds stretched out in a long hall, all of them full of staring eyes. The ceiling looked like it was crumbling.
Maternity Ward: It was designed to accommodate 16 beds. It now holds 40. And there were women on the floor. Some give birth on the floor. Some women in the ward had that glowy new-mother look on their faces as they held their newborns. Others looked sad and serious. The tour guide allowed me to walk into the labor room, where I beheld a birth which had just finished. Yikes! I congratulated the mother and hurried on. For more about conditions in Ugandan maternity wards, read here.
Operating Room (the "theatre"): This was the smallest ward, there is only one OR for the entire district. The floors and windows were filthy in the prep area, paint peeled from the walls, all the supplies I could see sitting around were ancient. I asked the attending nurse if I could go in the OR and she said no, a patient was undergoing a C-section. As we turned to go, the door opened. The surgery was over and I saw them wheeling a woman out on a stretcher. A sheet was pulled over her face but she was writhing under it, waking up from the surgery. I didn't hear any baby cries. I held my breath. I asked if I could look inside the theatre. For some reason I had to look. "Are you sure?" the orderlies asked me. Yes. They let me in. The floor was covered in blood. The wooden operating table was too. The entire room was grimy and dark. I looked toward the corner and there was the baby, unattended, wrapped up and quietly waving its arms. Thank God. I could finally breathe. The doctor approached me warmly, introducing himself and asking me many questions, but I could not stop myself from backing out of the room as he spoke. I had to get out of there.
Later, Gilbert, one of the workers at our clinic, told me he used to work at the district hospital. Dryly, he informed me that "All women who undergo Caesarians at that place get sepsis. Its compulsory."
Children's Ward: I declined, told the tour guide we could skip that part. I knew I would never be able to hold it together.
Dental Office: As we entered, a little boy was just walking out with a wad of cotton under his lip. He was in a dress suit. I wonder if going to the dentist for a tooth extraction is a special occasion? The dentist greeted me and bluntly said: "We do tooth extractions only. We would do dental cleanings if we had the supplies, but we don't." At first I was very put off by this comment. Since I'm white, I'm used to everyone thinking I will have a monetary solution for their problems, and I resented him verbalizing the need so bluntly. But later I thought about it, and I think I respect him for it. He was advocating for his patients. Somehow, in the midst of such horrendous and unjust conditions, he had enough hope to fight for his patients and speak to someone who might perhaps be able to do good.
Bitter End: As I concluded my tour, I was pretty much speechless. I passed by Dr. George's office. He was still there at his desk with his wide grin and twinkling Santa Claus eyes. He and some of his cronies were talking but I was only half listening to the pleasantries they were directing at me. Then I became aware that they, too, were soliciting donations from me.
"You need to help us build a VIP ward. We have plans for it, it will be a marvelous structure. It will be for people like us." they swept their hands to include themselves and me. "You can't treat people like us in these wards." People like us.
They continued about this for several minutes, reiterating over and over how these wards are not fit for everyone in Masindi district and there are no suitable medical facilities for "people like us."
I think my deadpan face in response to these remarks curbed their enthusiasm a bit. But only a bit. I was too disturbed by the whole experience to even speak. I remained quiet and civil, but my blood boiled at the arrogance. Its as though they have shut themselves off to the suffering of the poor so much that they no longer regard these patients as human. So they believe the poor don't need access to the things that well-off "people like us" deserve.
Out of everything that I encountered today, nothing disgusted me more than that comments of those men.
The government run hospitals are all supposedly free. But in actuality, when you show up they have practically no supplies or drugs. They may ask patients to pay for everything starting from the latex exam gloves. Then the pharmacy is typically poorly stocked so patients will have to go elsewhere to buy drugs. So it ends up being more expensive than private clinics (like ours).
I started by meeting the head doctor and the community health specialist, Dr. George and Dr. John, who were both incredibly smiley and almost giddy. Odd. Then another worker took me on a tour from ward to ward.
HIV/AIDS center: This one was run by a private health organization and was bustling with activity. It seemed productive and helpful. 6.7% of the Masindi population is infected.
Men's Ward: The building was constructed in 1922 and has obviously not had much renovation since then. Dozens of beds stretched out in a long hall, all of them full of staring eyes. The ceiling looked like it was crumbling.
Maternity Ward: It was designed to accommodate 16 beds. It now holds 40. And there were women on the floor. Some give birth on the floor. Some women in the ward had that glowy new-mother look on their faces as they held their newborns. Others looked sad and serious. The tour guide allowed me to walk into the labor room, where I beheld a birth which had just finished. Yikes! I congratulated the mother and hurried on. For more about conditions in Ugandan maternity wards, read here.
Operating Room (the "theatre"): This was the smallest ward, there is only one OR for the entire district. The floors and windows were filthy in the prep area, paint peeled from the walls, all the supplies I could see sitting around were ancient. I asked the attending nurse if I could go in the OR and she said no, a patient was undergoing a C-section. As we turned to go, the door opened. The surgery was over and I saw them wheeling a woman out on a stretcher. A sheet was pulled over her face but she was writhing under it, waking up from the surgery. I didn't hear any baby cries. I held my breath. I asked if I could look inside the theatre. For some reason I had to look. "Are you sure?" the orderlies asked me. Yes. They let me in. The floor was covered in blood. The wooden operating table was too. The entire room was grimy and dark. I looked toward the corner and there was the baby, unattended, wrapped up and quietly waving its arms. Thank God. I could finally breathe. The doctor approached me warmly, introducing himself and asking me many questions, but I could not stop myself from backing out of the room as he spoke. I had to get out of there.
Later, Gilbert, one of the workers at our clinic, told me he used to work at the district hospital. Dryly, he informed me that "All women who undergo Caesarians at that place get sepsis. Its compulsory."
Children's Ward: I declined, told the tour guide we could skip that part. I knew I would never be able to hold it together.
Dental Office: As we entered, a little boy was just walking out with a wad of cotton under his lip. He was in a dress suit. I wonder if going to the dentist for a tooth extraction is a special occasion? The dentist greeted me and bluntly said: "We do tooth extractions only. We would do dental cleanings if we had the supplies, but we don't." At first I was very put off by this comment. Since I'm white, I'm used to everyone thinking I will have a monetary solution for their problems, and I resented him verbalizing the need so bluntly. But later I thought about it, and I think I respect him for it. He was advocating for his patients. Somehow, in the midst of such horrendous and unjust conditions, he had enough hope to fight for his patients and speak to someone who might perhaps be able to do good.
Bitter End: As I concluded my tour, I was pretty much speechless. I passed by Dr. George's office. He was still there at his desk with his wide grin and twinkling Santa Claus eyes. He and some of his cronies were talking but I was only half listening to the pleasantries they were directing at me. Then I became aware that they, too, were soliciting donations from me.
"You need to help us build a VIP ward. We have plans for it, it will be a marvelous structure. It will be for people like us." they swept their hands to include themselves and me. "You can't treat people like us in these wards." People like us.
They continued about this for several minutes, reiterating over and over how these wards are not fit for everyone in Masindi district and there are no suitable medical facilities for "people like us."
I think my deadpan face in response to these remarks curbed their enthusiasm a bit. But only a bit. I was too disturbed by the whole experience to even speak. I remained quiet and civil, but my blood boiled at the arrogance. Its as though they have shut themselves off to the suffering of the poor so much that they no longer regard these patients as human. So they believe the poor don't need access to the things that well-off "people like us" deserve.
Out of everything that I encountered today, nothing disgusted me more than that comments of those men.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Weekend Visitor
My dear friend Jocelyn decided to come visit me this weekend in Masindi. Hurray! She took the 4 hour trip down from Gulu, where she is working for a different development organization called Krochet Kids. We had a great time catching up, playing with the kitty, relaxing, and seeing the sights of Masindi. It was my first real opportunity to go out exploring and I feel like I have a better grasp of the area now.
The only bummer of the weekend was that we were without electricity for about 30 hours of the visit. We are both getting pretty acclimated to that, though, so cooking and hanging out by candlelight didn't phase us much.
This was my first true weekend in Masindi and I'm really glad I had someone to share it with.
The only bummer of the weekend was that we were without electricity for about 30 hours of the visit. We are both getting pretty acclimated to that, though, so cooking and hanging out by candlelight didn't phase us much.
This was my first true weekend in Masindi and I'm really glad I had someone to share it with.
Jocelyn and I
Picture we took with all the kids who were following and staring at us.
Hanging out with Diane and Todd last weekend.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Fiesta in Uganda
My directors have had a crazy schedule ever since I arrived here and they've been in Kampala most of the time. So tonight, after much car trouble and other obstacles, they finally arrived back in Masindi.
They had me over for dinner and prepared a Mexican themed feast at my request. It was awesome! Yes, chips and salsa were present! It was a really pleasant meal with pleasant people, I really appreciated the belated welcome.
However, dinner conversation focused on some of the darker aspects of local culture. Revenge, witchcraft, child sacrifice, poisoning, and abuse. It is very difficult to understand how such things can become cultural norms. I'm wondering how I would handle a situation where I encountered something like this. Despite all my training... I'm not sure where I'd even begin.
Then I arrived home to find a very sick kitty, soiling most surfaces of my room with vomit, etc. Oh no! She seems to be doing better now. I'm keeping her hydrated. But you'll notice that I'm posting this well past midnight. Its been a long few hours.
My best guess is that she drank some spoiled milk. It is so difficult to keep food from going bad here. The moist climate coupled with the long periods of time without electricity (lack of refrigeration) is a bad combination. I buy tiny quantities of stuff and I still end up throwing much of it away.
They had me over for dinner and prepared a Mexican themed feast at my request. It was awesome! Yes, chips and salsa were present! It was a really pleasant meal with pleasant people, I really appreciated the belated welcome.
However, dinner conversation focused on some of the darker aspects of local culture. Revenge, witchcraft, child sacrifice, poisoning, and abuse. It is very difficult to understand how such things can become cultural norms. I'm wondering how I would handle a situation where I encountered something like this. Despite all my training... I'm not sure where I'd even begin.
Then I arrived home to find a very sick kitty, soiling most surfaces of my room with vomit, etc. Oh no! She seems to be doing better now. I'm keeping her hydrated. But you'll notice that I'm posting this well past midnight. Its been a long few hours.
My best guess is that she drank some spoiled milk. It is so difficult to keep food from going bad here. The moist climate coupled with the long periods of time without electricity (lack of refrigeration) is a bad combination. I buy tiny quantities of stuff and I still end up throwing much of it away.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Jack Fruit
Today I tried Jack Fruit for the first time. The whole fruit is the size of a small watermelon. Quite intimidating. It smelled funky and I was very unsure about it. But once someone showed me how to eat it, it turned out to be quite tasty.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Monday, Week 2
After a weekend away, I was back to my usual hours at the clinic today. I don't have a set schedule so things have been a little unstructured. I'm hoping we can change that soon.
Honestly, I wasn't looking forward to going in at all today, but I pushed through it and the day sort of surprised me. We had a pretty significant break through with the Quickbooks set up (if feels like we are making it up as we go along, which can be stressful), and I also helped get a lot of filing done, which was boring but helped me gain respect from some of the staff, I think.
I'm reunited with my kitty after the weekend away, so that's fun. She's growing up before my eyes. And the crying has stopped, thankfully! She's getting more playful and rascally every day, so I'm preparing for her to start destroying my possessions very soon.
I talked to a doctor at the clinic today about adjusting my malaria drugs. I've been having very strange, intense negative moods lately and very little appetite. He changed me to a pill which has 'vivid dreams' as a side effect, so that could be interesting.
Overall, my outlook on Masindi seems to change drastically from moment to moment. Hopefully I can start feeling more settled soon.
Honestly, I wasn't looking forward to going in at all today, but I pushed through it and the day sort of surprised me. We had a pretty significant break through with the Quickbooks set up (if feels like we are making it up as we go along, which can be stressful), and I also helped get a lot of filing done, which was boring but helped me gain respect from some of the staff, I think.
I'm reunited with my kitty after the weekend away, so that's fun. She's growing up before my eyes. And the crying has stopped, thankfully! She's getting more playful and rascally every day, so I'm preparing for her to start destroying my possessions very soon.
I talked to a doctor at the clinic today about adjusting my malaria drugs. I've been having very strange, intense negative moods lately and very little appetite. He changed me to a pill which has 'vivid dreams' as a side effect, so that could be interesting.
Overall, my outlook on Masindi seems to change drastically from moment to moment. Hopefully I can start feeling more settled soon.
Weekend in the City
This weekend I journeyed to Kampala to see my dear Lady Diane and celebrate her birthday. Diane is my roommate from last year. I hadn't seen her in two months, but it felt like much longer. We had so much to share. It was so refreshing to see a familiar face after my very stressful first week in Masindi. We met up with Todd, another guy from our cohort, and had a nice long dinner (something my stomach could recognize as normal food) and good conversation. It was great fun staying with Diane at the Samaritan's Purse guest house and catching up on everything that has been going on. It was great to be able to have adventures with her on a new continent. :-)
The bus rides to and from the city were grueling and long. I tend to think of myself as immune to culture shock in this part of the world after all I've seen and done. But no, this bus thing still really gets to me. Yesterday, a 3 hour journey ended up taking six and a half. The bus was so, so hot. And at some point the driver tried to take a detour through a Kampala slum and got stuck in the mud, so that set us back by at least an hour. Drama drama.
And then there was the bus park. I can compare the Kampala bus park to nothing else... except some Kenyan bus parks. But there is such a degree of frenzied, chaotic activity that is at the same time fascinating and horrifying. Buses trying to park and pull out, honking at people as they mill everywhere, vendors pushing merchandise in your face, heat, dust, fumes, confusion.
Kampala is smaller than Nairobi, but the presence of motorbikes ("bodas") everywhere gives rise to a whole new level of stress and confusion on the road. I saw another boda get into an accident while I was riding one. Thankfully, I had no incidents.
I was so relieved to get back to Masindi and meet up with my boda driver, Mustafa, who has also become a friend. I was so relieved to be almost home when... the boda ran out of gas. It just was not my day for traveling!
The bus rides to and from the city were grueling and long. I tend to think of myself as immune to culture shock in this part of the world after all I've seen and done. But no, this bus thing still really gets to me. Yesterday, a 3 hour journey ended up taking six and a half. The bus was so, so hot. And at some point the driver tried to take a detour through a Kampala slum and got stuck in the mud, so that set us back by at least an hour. Drama drama.
And then there was the bus park. I can compare the Kampala bus park to nothing else... except some Kenyan bus parks. But there is such a degree of frenzied, chaotic activity that is at the same time fascinating and horrifying. Buses trying to park and pull out, honking at people as they mill everywhere, vendors pushing merchandise in your face, heat, dust, fumes, confusion.
Kampala is smaller than Nairobi, but the presence of motorbikes ("bodas") everywhere gives rise to a whole new level of stress and confusion on the road. I saw another boda get into an accident while I was riding one. Thankfully, I had no incidents.
I was so relieved to get back to Masindi and meet up with my boda driver, Mustafa, who has also become a friend. I was so relieved to be almost home when... the boda ran out of gas. It just was not my day for traveling!
Friday, September 2, 2011
Pictures
My big house.
Sparse furnishings
Couldn't get a very good angle on the bedroom.
My morning commute
The clinic triage area
Clinic waiting and meeting area
The sunset from my porch.
I don't know many local people well enough yet to take their photos, so these are just images of "stuff" so far. I also added some pictures to the posts below, so be sure to scroll down.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
New Friend
I have a kitten. Its really cute. Its really tiny. Apparently its mother had too many kittens so she started rejecting some of them. So it has come to be mine.
This is a lot more work than I anticipated, since the kitten is actually too young to be away from its mother. It has to be bottle fed and it cries a lot. A lot! But I'm hoping that in a few weeks things will settle down.
I'm pleasantly surprised to see that people do keep cats as pets here. They are looked at more favorably than in Nairobi. I don't think it'll be too hard to find a good home for the little guy when I leave.
And it has already served as a connecting point with some of the neighbors. With all of our cultural and language barriers, easy conversation starters are a bonus.
And who doesn't love someone that talks about their cat constantly? I think that's got to be universal.
This is a lot more work than I anticipated, since the kitten is actually too young to be away from its mother. It has to be bottle fed and it cries a lot. A lot! But I'm hoping that in a few weeks things will settle down.
I'm pleasantly surprised to see that people do keep cats as pets here. They are looked at more favorably than in Nairobi. I don't think it'll be too hard to find a good home for the little guy when I leave.
And it has already served as a connecting point with some of the neighbors. With all of our cultural and language barriers, easy conversation starters are a bonus.
And who doesn't love someone that talks about their cat constantly? I think that's got to be universal.
She still has baby blue eyes.
She looks so much like the cat I had growing up.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Farm Tour
Since there are so few white people around here, the ones who are here all kind of befriend each other. Today, Janine, a US missionary who has been here for three years doing public health interventions, stopped by the clinic and invited me over to her house.
Kooky is a good word to describe her. She is very friendly. But different.
When I arrived at her place after work, she came out with blood all over her arms. I pointed it out and she was assured me "Don't worry, its not mine. I've been slaughtering ducks." Oh.
She took me around her little farm and introduced me to all of her sheep and goats by name, including babies! Some who know me well will understand that this made me VERY happy. She also breeds ducks and rabbits. She had a sweet rescued beagle with rickets... its forelegs were completely bowed to the point that it could barely walk. She also has a German Shepherd.
She has an extensive garden with tons of yummy cooking herbs and veggies. Her little farm was pretty impressive, I must say. And she was so at home there.
She served me some sweet tea and delicious home made donuts and then excused herself to go deal with an employee. I was enjoying these refreshments until I nearly stepped in some duck intestines. Then they didn't go down so smoothly anymore.
There are so many different kinds of people in this world it simply amazes me.
Kooky is a good word to describe her. She is very friendly. But different.
When I arrived at her place after work, she came out with blood all over her arms. I pointed it out and she was assured me "Don't worry, its not mine. I've been slaughtering ducks." Oh.
She took me around her little farm and introduced me to all of her sheep and goats by name, including babies! Some who know me well will understand that this made me VERY happy. She also breeds ducks and rabbits. She had a sweet rescued beagle with rickets... its forelegs were completely bowed to the point that it could barely walk. She also has a German Shepherd.
She has an extensive garden with tons of yummy cooking herbs and veggies. Her little farm was pretty impressive, I must say. And she was so at home there.
She served me some sweet tea and delicious home made donuts and then excused herself to go deal with an employee. I was enjoying these refreshments until I nearly stepped in some duck intestines. Then they didn't go down so smoothly anymore.
There are so many different kinds of people in this world it simply amazes me.
Medical Conversations
In the afternoon, I talked at length with Alex, the closest thing the clinic has to a full time doctor. My seventh grade nerd-self could not resist. I asked him about ebola (I read the book Outbreak in 7th grade). Yes, he said, ebola outbreaks are a problem in Uganda. He told me the story of how he had been exposed to a patient with ebola once during his medical training, and had to be quarantined for 21 days. It was fascinating. And scary, of course, to know that that's a possibility at any clinic at any time. But it is rare. And at least ebola isn't spread through the air. At least it isn't believed to be...
Alex and I also talked at more length about the struggles and difficulties he has as a doctor in a context where many cases are too severe for the clinic to handle, but patients cannot afford to go elsewhere. One little boy came in today with a serious problem with the bone in his leg. Alex said the problem will most likely turn into cancer if it goes untreated. The boys options are an amputation in Kampala, or a bone transplant. I'm pretty sure the nearest place he could go for a bone transplant is South Africa, which is clearly out of reach for the family. And the idea of amputation terrifies them, let alone the expense and the fact that the idea of traveling to Kampala is intimidating to these villagers to begin with. So the boy may die in a few years if nothing changes. Alex was very frustrated by the case, understandably. So sad.
Alex and I also talked at more length about the struggles and difficulties he has as a doctor in a context where many cases are too severe for the clinic to handle, but patients cannot afford to go elsewhere. One little boy came in today with a serious problem with the bone in his leg. Alex said the problem will most likely turn into cancer if it goes untreated. The boys options are an amputation in Kampala, or a bone transplant. I'm pretty sure the nearest place he could go for a bone transplant is South Africa, which is clearly out of reach for the family. And the idea of amputation terrifies them, let alone the expense and the fact that the idea of traveling to Kampala is intimidating to these villagers to begin with. So the boy may die in a few years if nothing changes. Alex was very frustrated by the case, understandably. So sad.
Ahem... let's pretend you didn't just say that
Today, my first day of work, there were so many funny little blog-worthy anecdotes occurring on an hour by hour basis, I don't even know where to begin.
Let me start by saying I'M EXCITED. Which is a great thing after the drama of the last few days. I really enjoyed my interactions with the staff today. I'm still just observing and asking tons of questions.
I started my morning with Joseph, the clinic administrator. He is incredibly helpful and thorough in all that he does. He told me I could ask him anything. So I did. I asked him if I could get a pig. He was confused. I explained that the neighbors (whose yard I walk through every day to get to the clinic) have little piglets. I heard that some people keep them as pets, and so I was wondering if I could take one on as a pet for a few months. He was visibly upset by this suggestion. He said I could take one but it could absolutely not come in the house. He explained that people would think that was very strange to have a pig in the house. "But they think I'm strange anyway." I countered. No, he insisted, there could be no pigs in the house. Finally I gave in. I asked if I could have a cat. He said yes, a cat would be fine. He was very relieved by that suggestion. He went on to tell me, don't worry, he will not tell anyone else that I requested a piglet. Apparently this is very shameful. Thank goodness he will hold onto my secret!
Let me start by saying I'M EXCITED. Which is a great thing after the drama of the last few days. I really enjoyed my interactions with the staff today. I'm still just observing and asking tons of questions.
I started my morning with Joseph, the clinic administrator. He is incredibly helpful and thorough in all that he does. He told me I could ask him anything. So I did. I asked him if I could get a pig. He was confused. I explained that the neighbors (whose yard I walk through every day to get to the clinic) have little piglets. I heard that some people keep them as pets, and so I was wondering if I could take one on as a pet for a few months. He was visibly upset by this suggestion. He said I could take one but it could absolutely not come in the house. He explained that people would think that was very strange to have a pig in the house. "But they think I'm strange anyway." I countered. No, he insisted, there could be no pigs in the house. Finally I gave in. I asked if I could have a cat. He said yes, a cat would be fine. He was very relieved by that suggestion. He went on to tell me, don't worry, he will not tell anyone else that I requested a piglet. Apparently this is very shameful. Thank goodness he will hold onto my secret!
Monday, August 29, 2011
Repairs
Well, after two full days in Masindi, my living space is starting to feel less like camping and more like a house.
Hot water- check
Fridge- check
Gas- hooked up to stove
Shady electrical switches- fixed
Unkempt lawn- weed whacked
Windows-washed
Shower extension- attached
Floors- swept and mopped
Murderous ants and wasps- dead
Suitcases- unpacked
Bedroom-arranged and comfy
Electricity- going strong for the last 36 hours
My house has been full of strange men and loud noises in the midst of all of these repairs. I don't have enough food to offer them, and I feel rude eating in front of them. So I sometimes sneak things out of the kitchen into my room. Or starve.
I am fascinated by this blow torch the repair guy used to fix my fridge. How old do you think it is?
I'm supposed to be starting my online classes this week too. Our first paper is due at the end of the week. But surely, how? With all these changes and interruptions, I don't see how any of this reading is going to get done.
On the bright side- tomorrow will be my first full day at the clinic!
Hot water- check
Fridge- check
Gas- hooked up to stove
Shady electrical switches- fixed
Unkempt lawn- weed whacked
Windows-washed
Shower extension- attached
Floors- swept and mopped
Murderous ants and wasps- dead
Suitcases- unpacked
Bedroom-arranged and comfy
Electricity- going strong for the last 36 hours
My house has been full of strange men and loud noises in the midst of all of these repairs. I don't have enough food to offer them, and I feel rude eating in front of them. So I sometimes sneak things out of the kitchen into my room. Or starve.
I am fascinated by this blow torch the repair guy used to fix my fridge. How old do you think it is?
I'm supposed to be starting my online classes this week too. Our first paper is due at the end of the week. But surely, how? With all these changes and interruptions, I don't see how any of this reading is going to get done.
On the bright side- tomorrow will be my first full day at the clinic!
Sunday, August 28, 2011
My House
Joseph took me along the long, winding dirt roads of Masindi to get to my house and dropped me off. I stepped out of the car with great trepidation and just took it all in for a few minutes.
The place is huge. It has a large sitting room, large kitchen, three bedrooms, three bathrooms, and many closets. However, the furnishing is very sparse. There is only one bed with a mattress and a mosquito net. A few tables of various sizes. Curtains. And two plastic chairs.
No pots, pans, plates, or kitchen utensils. No usable linens, few buckets or bins for laundry. No toilet seats. The hot water isn’t working, even if it were we only get electricity about 60% of the time, according to Michael. The kitchen sink also isn’t functional. There is no gas for cooking. The fridge looks brand new, but the motor was stolen so it does not work.
To add to this, everything is grimy and covered in dust from months of nobody living here. Cleaners were supposed to have come, but they obviously did not.
My supervisors were furious to hear of all this, by the way. I think they've made several angry phone calls to the landlords already.
Fortunately, there is one very friendly and helpful guy named Wilson, whose sole job for the next two days is to help me make this house livable. Last night we went into town on a motorbike to pick up a few items and dinner. There was no electricity so many of the shops were lit with candlelight. The air was a bit cool and it was fantastic riding under the moonlight like that.
My first night going to bed, with no electricity, alone in this strange, dark place was surreal. Outside there was a vicious thunderstorm, which seemed only fitting.
I know I will adapt, as I always have. But these are definitely the roughest conditions I’ve had to contend with in Africa so far.
The place is huge. It has a large sitting room, large kitchen, three bedrooms, three bathrooms, and many closets. However, the furnishing is very sparse. There is only one bed with a mattress and a mosquito net. A few tables of various sizes. Curtains. And two plastic chairs.
No pots, pans, plates, or kitchen utensils. No usable linens, few buckets or bins for laundry. No toilet seats. The hot water isn’t working, even if it were we only get electricity about 60% of the time, according to Michael. The kitchen sink also isn’t functional. There is no gas for cooking. The fridge looks brand new, but the motor was stolen so it does not work.
To add to this, everything is grimy and covered in dust from months of nobody living here. Cleaners were supposed to have come, but they obviously did not.
My supervisors were furious to hear of all this, by the way. I think they've made several angry phone calls to the landlords already.
Fortunately, there is one very friendly and helpful guy named Wilson, whose sole job for the next two days is to help me make this house livable. Last night we went into town on a motorbike to pick up a few items and dinner. There was no electricity so many of the shops were lit with candlelight. The air was a bit cool and it was fantastic riding under the moonlight like that.
My first night going to bed, with no electricity, alone in this strange, dark place was surreal. Outside there was a vicious thunderstorm, which seemed only fitting.
I know I will adapt, as I always have. But these are definitely the roughest conditions I’ve had to contend with in Africa so far.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
The Road to Masindi
I met my supervisor, Michael and his wife Amanda yesterday in Kampala. They bought me lunch and we had a pleasant first meeting. Then we went shopping at Nakumatt to stock up on food supplies.
They needed to remain in Kampala for three more days, so I was then sent off with Joseph, the clinic administrator, on the long journey to Masindi. The roads were good, and we made it there in three hours. Along the way I was perplexed by the elaborate signaling that drivers do as they pass one another on the road, warning each other of police checks so that they know when to speed and when to slow down.
As we got farther and farther from Kampala, driving through vast expanses of nothing but wilderness, a strange reverse agora-phobia started rising in me. Masindi is so remote and isolated. I’ve never felt like that before-- I experienced a real dread of what was to come.
I’m now comfortable in the dusty, chaotic bustle of East African capital cities. I can deal with the honking, the smells, the anonymity, the crime, and the invasion of personal space. But the quiet, isolated, slow poverty of a rural village is another thing altogether. I’m not excited about the idea of being so, so alone.
They needed to remain in Kampala for three more days, so I was then sent off with Joseph, the clinic administrator, on the long journey to Masindi. The roads were good, and we made it there in three hours. Along the way I was perplexed by the elaborate signaling that drivers do as they pass one another on the road, warning each other of police checks so that they know when to speed and when to slow down.
As we got farther and farther from Kampala, driving through vast expanses of nothing but wilderness, a strange reverse agora-phobia started rising in me. Masindi is so remote and isolated. I’ve never felt like that before-- I experienced a real dread of what was to come.
I’m now comfortable in the dusty, chaotic bustle of East African capital cities. I can deal with the honking, the smells, the anonymity, the crime, and the invasion of personal space. But the quiet, isolated, slow poverty of a rural village is another thing altogether. I’m not excited about the idea of being so, so alone.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Bus Adventures
I inquired with many people before booking a bus to Kampala. It was agreed that Queens Coach is the best option. It was certainly the most expensive option. So I confidently bought a ticket to leave Nairobi on Friday morning, fully expecting a smooth ride to Kampala.
On Thursday morning, I got a phone call, informing me that our bus for the following day had broken down. We would need to squeeze onto either the Thursday night or Friday night bus. I opted to go for the Thursday night bus, which left me with only a few hours to pack and rearrange my plans.
Thursday night I showed up at 8:30pm, the designated check in time. No bus. Hours passed, with all of us would-be passengers shuffling restlessly around at the bus station in a sketchy part of downtown. Drunk men stumbled out of bars nearby, while we sat shivering. Finally the bus showed up at 11, we were on the road within 30 minutes.
The night passed slowly. The seats were not terrible, but not comfortable enough to sleep in. Some of the passengers near me passed around a bottle of vodka and got pretty rowdy. We reached the border around 7am and made our way through the immigration lines. I paid 50 bucks for my three month Uganda visa while my East African counterparts passed through for free. A kind Kenyan lady from our bus started chatting with me, which was pleasant.
As we continued our journey into Uganda, the sun was up so the scenery preoccupied me. Uganda is so hilly, green and fertile compared to Kenya. Banana trees grow everywhere. It was beautiful.
All was going according to plan until about 10am. The bus stopped and pulled over. We saw smoke billowing from underneath us. We were still at least two hours from our destination. Customers started panicking and abandoning ship. They stood by the side of the road and hailed taxis (in Uganda, a taxi is like a Kenyan matatu, not a cab).
I, on the other hand, had no Ugandan currency, no Ugandan phone line, and no clue what to do. I remained on the bus as everyone else filed off. Finally, I talked to my Kenyan lady about my situation. She pressed some Ugandan shillings in my hand, which was very kind. Then she disappeared. Still I didn’t know what to do.
Ultimately, the bus company found some taxis (picture dilapidated vans) and paid them to take us the rest of the way to Kampala. So they crammed the remaining passengers along with our luggage into the vehicle. I could not move my legs, and there was a baby breathing on me. But I was grateful to be headed to my destination.
The taxi driver was insane, I couldn’t believe how he was driving. They even stopped by the side of the road and crammed in more passengers, although the vehicle was clearly full already. The drive past Jinja and to Kampala was congested and headache inducing. I somehow slept for a while. I woke up in time to see a naked madman walking solemnly on the side of the busy road. I don’t know a more sensitive title for such a person—but that’s what madmen do here. They walk naked on roadsides. Seriously.
I was so tired when I reached Kampala after the 17 hour journey. But victorious!
On Thursday morning, I got a phone call, informing me that our bus for the following day had broken down. We would need to squeeze onto either the Thursday night or Friday night bus. I opted to go for the Thursday night bus, which left me with only a few hours to pack and rearrange my plans.
Thursday night I showed up at 8:30pm, the designated check in time. No bus. Hours passed, with all of us would-be passengers shuffling restlessly around at the bus station in a sketchy part of downtown. Drunk men stumbled out of bars nearby, while we sat shivering. Finally the bus showed up at 11, we were on the road within 30 minutes.
The night passed slowly. The seats were not terrible, but not comfortable enough to sleep in. Some of the passengers near me passed around a bottle of vodka and got pretty rowdy. We reached the border around 7am and made our way through the immigration lines. I paid 50 bucks for my three month Uganda visa while my East African counterparts passed through for free. A kind Kenyan lady from our bus started chatting with me, which was pleasant.
As we continued our journey into Uganda, the sun was up so the scenery preoccupied me. Uganda is so hilly, green and fertile compared to Kenya. Banana trees grow everywhere. It was beautiful.
All was going according to plan until about 10am. The bus stopped and pulled over. We saw smoke billowing from underneath us. We were still at least two hours from our destination. Customers started panicking and abandoning ship. They stood by the side of the road and hailed taxis (in Uganda, a taxi is like a Kenyan matatu, not a cab).
I, on the other hand, had no Ugandan currency, no Ugandan phone line, and no clue what to do. I remained on the bus as everyone else filed off. Finally, I talked to my Kenyan lady about my situation. She pressed some Ugandan shillings in my hand, which was very kind. Then she disappeared. Still I didn’t know what to do.
Ultimately, the bus company found some taxis (picture dilapidated vans) and paid them to take us the rest of the way to Kampala. So they crammed the remaining passengers along with our luggage into the vehicle. I could not move my legs, and there was a baby breathing on me. But I was grateful to be headed to my destination.
The taxi driver was insane, I couldn’t believe how he was driving. They even stopped by the side of the road and crammed in more passengers, although the vehicle was clearly full already. The drive past Jinja and to Kampala was congested and headache inducing. I somehow slept for a while. I woke up in time to see a naked madman walking solemnly on the side of the busy road. I don’t know a more sensitive title for such a person—but that’s what madmen do here. They walk naked on roadsides. Seriously.
I was so tired when I reached Kampala after the 17 hour journey. But victorious!
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Listening
My time in Kenya was wonderful. I did a remarkable amount of listening. It seems when people saw me, their instinct was just to pour out their hearts. I seem to represent a safe place, I am removed from their context and they are assured of confidentiality since I am leaving soon. But I heard a lot of stories.
Its amazing how many people in this world just long to be listened to and understood. It is such a simple gift that anyone can offer another.
I was touched to hear some people recall whole conversations we had years ago, word for word. Some people described very specific ways I had changed their thinking.
“I love the way you love my country.” said Jay, “You once told me you think it’s so silly how Kenyans idolize Western culture; and you are right. I’ve become much more proud of our culture ever since.”
I also got to do some meddling in peoples dating lives, look through photo albums, hold babies, cry, laugh, reminisce, and share. I tried to be as honest as possible about the highs and lows of the last few years and the struggles I have had in pursuing this dream of mine.
Overall, it was such a good time for my heart. I feel bolstered and refreshed and reassured of my calling.
Its amazing how many people in this world just long to be listened to and understood. It is such a simple gift that anyone can offer another.
I was touched to hear some people recall whole conversations we had years ago, word for word. Some people described very specific ways I had changed their thinking.
“I love the way you love my country.” said Jay, “You once told me you think it’s so silly how Kenyans idolize Western culture; and you are right. I’ve become much more proud of our culture ever since.”
I also got to do some meddling in peoples dating lives, look through photo albums, hold babies, cry, laugh, reminisce, and share. I tried to be as honest as possible about the highs and lows of the last few years and the struggles I have had in pursuing this dream of mine.
Overall, it was such a good time for my heart. I feel bolstered and refreshed and reassured of my calling.
Pikipiki
My friend Nina made me lunch at her place in Kerarapon.
To get to Kerarapon, you have to take a matatu, and then a tuk tuk on a VERY bumpy road. The drive is exhausting. On the way back, she persuaded me to take a motorbike (pikipiki) instead of a tuk tuk, since they are faster and less bumpy. I was scared at first, but it was glorious. Kerarapon is picturesque... the scenery is that classic Kenyan savannah with acacia trees and livestock and maroon dirt roads. The highlight of the ride was when we encountered a herd of cattle walking toward us, taking up the whole road. They parted slightly and we zipped right through the middle of them.
Let's see if I'll still be talking this glowingly of motorbikes once they are my main mode of transportation in Masindi.
To get to Kerarapon, you have to take a matatu, and then a tuk tuk on a VERY bumpy road. The drive is exhausting. On the way back, she persuaded me to take a motorbike (pikipiki) instead of a tuk tuk, since they are faster and less bumpy. I was scared at first, but it was glorious. Kerarapon is picturesque... the scenery is that classic Kenyan savannah with acacia trees and livestock and maroon dirt roads. The highlight of the ride was when we encountered a herd of cattle walking toward us, taking up the whole road. They parted slightly and we zipped right through the middle of them.
Let's see if I'll still be talking this glowingly of motorbikes once they are my main mode of transportation in Masindi.
Javin'
One highlight of this trip to Nairobi has been that I've gotten to use public transportation much more than ever before in Kenya. I know that sounds like a strange highlight, but seriously I have enjoyed it.
I have been able to borrow Jemima's car a few times to give myself more freedom for night visits, but for most of my day time appointments, the crazy old 111s served me well. Okay, that might be an overstatement. Let's just say they served me.
When I ride a matatu (or "jav," as some say), I feel more in touch with Kenya. It helps me, somehow, to feel more relevant and connected with the place. Surviving the reckless driving, blaring music, tv screens with perverse videos, humorous slogans written on the windows, and crammed conditions on these vehicles makes me feel accomplished and connected with the city.
Yet my privilege still follows me, like it or not. Once I was standing at stage waiting for a vehicle when one of my older Nav friends passed by in a car, and stopped to give me a lift. I appreciated it. But its funny how even when I make an effort to live so simply, I am still given favors that many Kenyans would not dream of.
I have been able to borrow Jemima's car a few times to give myself more freedom for night visits, but for most of my day time appointments, the crazy old 111s served me well. Okay, that might be an overstatement. Let's just say they served me.
When I ride a matatu (or "jav," as some say), I feel more in touch with Kenya. It helps me, somehow, to feel more relevant and connected with the place. Surviving the reckless driving, blaring music, tv screens with perverse videos, humorous slogans written on the windows, and crammed conditions on these vehicles makes me feel accomplished and connected with the city.
Yet my privilege still follows me, like it or not. Once I was standing at stage waiting for a vehicle when one of my older Nav friends passed by in a car, and stopped to give me a lift. I appreciated it. But its funny how even when I make an effort to live so simply, I am still given favors that many Kenyans would not dream of.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Unwanted House Guests
A posse of rats have decided to descend on Jemima's house. I saw three in the house just this morning. Two of them brazenly skittered across the floor of my room while I was lying in bed. Gross! We are brainstorming ways to destroy them and/or strike fear in their hearts.
Meanwhile a herd of stray cats has taken up residence in her backyard. The cats and kittens lay in the sun in snuggly piles all day. Why do they let the rats roam free?
I had a meeting scheduled for lunch at my place today, but I asked my friend if we could go out instead. I can't deal with the rodents!
Meanwhile a herd of stray cats has taken up residence in her backyard. The cats and kittens lay in the sun in snuggly piles all day. Why do they let the rats roam free?
I had a meeting scheduled for lunch at my place today, but I asked my friend if we could go out instead. I can't deal with the rodents!
Meetings
I've had some more very rich times of sharing the last few days. That old relational fatigue I used to know so well in ministry is back, but I don't mind so much. I feel like I'm downloading two years worth of stories into my brain with each person I meet... which is a lot of information and emotion to take in.
Last night I had a really encouraging time with one of "my girls". I met her in town after work. She took me out to dinner and insisted on paying for me and even giving me bus fare home. Maybe this doesn't sound like such a big deal... but the point of maturity and understanding this indicates for a Kenyan to desire to pay for and take care of her American friend is quite remarkable. Its a very counter-cultural attitude here. She went on to tell me about the impact she has made in her workplace, simply by living a life of exceptional integrity.
I feel so content and encouraged.
Last night I had a really encouraging time with one of "my girls". I met her in town after work. She took me out to dinner and insisted on paying for me and even giving me bus fare home. Maybe this doesn't sound like such a big deal... but the point of maturity and understanding this indicates for a Kenyan to desire to pay for and take care of her American friend is quite remarkable. Its a very counter-cultural attitude here. She went on to tell me about the impact she has made in her workplace, simply by living a life of exceptional integrity.
I feel so content and encouraged.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
CFK Visit
On Monday I departed from Mary's house in a rush to meet my darling Nina. She had agreed to accompany me into Kibera to visit Carolina for Kibera (CFK), one of the slum development organizations I most admire.
We had a really pleasant time talking to the current director, who appeared to have all the time in the world for us. Then a volunteer took us deep into the heart of the slum to visit the Tabitha Clinic that CFK runs. It had rained two days earlier, and every path and alley was still slick and gooey with mud. I normally get pretty emotional when I visit the slum, but this time it was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other without slipping and landing in rivers of sewage, so I hardly even got to think about it.
But the suffering there is so in your face, you really can't miss it. In the children and animals it is especially apparent, somehow.
The clinic is fantastic! They have a lab, X-ray facility, doctors, nutritionists, lots of clean and efficient services. I was most impressed to learn about their wireless record keeping system. I know these are common in the States, but I hardly expected to find something like that in the midst of some of the worst poverty in the world. Not only does the system save time and hassle, but it has additional functions. The CDC is able to more easily track the diseases in the area, things like cholera outbreaks can be quickly spotted and isolated, and all kinds of other useful statistical things.
Overall, it was a great visit and I was glad to connect a bit with the work, after reading "It Happened On the Way to War" by Rye Barcott, the organizations founder.
Afterward I bought Nina lunch at the Nakumatt food court and we bonded quite a bit. I was feeling sick again so I didn't eat.
Everywhere we went in the upscale shopping center, clumps of caked mud from the slum fell off of our shoes. I was uncomfortable with this juxtaposition, with how easily we left Kibera behind us and returned to our privileged lives.
My desire to really understand and make a difference in Kibera remains just out of arms reach, it seems. Maybe some day.
We had a really pleasant time talking to the current director, who appeared to have all the time in the world for us. Then a volunteer took us deep into the heart of the slum to visit the Tabitha Clinic that CFK runs. It had rained two days earlier, and every path and alley was still slick and gooey with mud. I normally get pretty emotional when I visit the slum, but this time it was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other without slipping and landing in rivers of sewage, so I hardly even got to think about it.
But the suffering there is so in your face, you really can't miss it. In the children and animals it is especially apparent, somehow.
The clinic is fantastic! They have a lab, X-ray facility, doctors, nutritionists, lots of clean and efficient services. I was most impressed to learn about their wireless record keeping system. I know these are common in the States, but I hardly expected to find something like that in the midst of some of the worst poverty in the world. Not only does the system save time and hassle, but it has additional functions. The CDC is able to more easily track the diseases in the area, things like cholera outbreaks can be quickly spotted and isolated, and all kinds of other useful statistical things.
Overall, it was a great visit and I was glad to connect a bit with the work, after reading "It Happened On the Way to War" by Rye Barcott, the organizations founder.
Afterward I bought Nina lunch at the Nakumatt food court and we bonded quite a bit. I was feeling sick again so I didn't eat.
Everywhere we went in the upscale shopping center, clumps of caked mud from the slum fell off of our shoes. I was uncomfortable with this juxtaposition, with how easily we left Kibera behind us and returned to our privileged lives.
My desire to really understand and make a difference in Kibera remains just out of arms reach, it seems. Maybe some day.
Joyful Reunion
On Sunday night I spent the night at Mary and Naftali's house. I walked up to the familiar apartment and stopped at the doorway in shock. The apartment was brimming over with people. About twenty of Mary's cousins and siblings were there, seated on all the couches and every part of the floor. Whoa!
They were having a "cousins meeting." I wasn't able to discern exactly what the purpose of that is, but I know they have a secretary and a treasurer and all kinds of other officers among the cousins. Considering that Mary is involved, this level of structure and organization doesn't come as too big of a surprise. :-)
They were singing, dancing, and having a great time-- all in Kikuyu. I hugged Mary as soon as I spotted her, and met their new 8 month old son David. He instantly greeted me by yanking on my shirt and pulling it way down in front of all of her cousins. Nice!
Once all the cousins left, the sitting room was swept, tea was made, David was fed and put to bed, and dinner was served, I was able to sit down and catch up with them for a loooooong time.
I could see Mary was exhausted, and expected that with her being a mom now we'd be headed to bed earlier than our usual. But no! We even outdid ourselves. We stayed up talking and praying together until 4:30am. It was amazing to reconnect and hear about all that has been happening in the ministry and in their lives. It was such a beautiful visit.
They were having a "cousins meeting." I wasn't able to discern exactly what the purpose of that is, but I know they have a secretary and a treasurer and all kinds of other officers among the cousins. Considering that Mary is involved, this level of structure and organization doesn't come as too big of a surprise. :-)
They were singing, dancing, and having a great time-- all in Kikuyu. I hugged Mary as soon as I spotted her, and met their new 8 month old son David. He instantly greeted me by yanking on my shirt and pulling it way down in front of all of her cousins. Nice!
Once all the cousins left, the sitting room was swept, tea was made, David was fed and put to bed, and dinner was served, I was able to sit down and catch up with them for a loooooong time.
I could see Mary was exhausted, and expected that with her being a mom now we'd be headed to bed earlier than our usual. But no! We even outdid ourselves. We stayed up talking and praying together until 4:30am. It was amazing to reconnect and hear about all that has been happening in the ministry and in their lives. It was such a beautiful visit.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Quiet Weekend
Yesterday it poured all day. All my plans got canceled, which was just as well since I was feeling sick. I ended up watching movies with Jemima all night. I think I needed a day off. But today I was stir crazy and ready to go out again.
After four days of adjustment, I was ready to brave driving again today. I didn't know that it was possible for traffic to increase compared to what it used to be, but it really has. Driving went well, but I'm still timid. I'm sure it'll take me a few more days to get back my old matatu-like courage and assertiveness behind the wheel. But when I do, look out!
After four days of adjustment, I was ready to brave driving again today. I didn't know that it was possible for traffic to increase compared to what it used to be, but it really has. Driving went well, but I'm still timid. I'm sure it'll take me a few more days to get back my old matatu-like courage and assertiveness behind the wheel. But when I do, look out!
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Visions
Last night I had a really nice dinner with Mike and Jo Mutungi. They used to be with Navs, but now have transitioned out. Mike started an organization called I Choose Life, to raise awareness and prevent HIV among university students. The organization has grown like crazy and is now taking a leadership role in the fight against HIV in Kenya. They have expanded their scope and vision exponentially as well- now their objectives include economic empowerment, leadership training, etc. And they no longer just reach out to University students but secondary schools and other populations at high risk such as commercial sex workers. The work has branched out in so many different directions its difficult to keep track of it.
Mike is such a visionary and a recruiter. As he was explaining to me about his visions and goals, how they fit with the Kenya 2030 Strategic plan, and the potential impact it could have on African development, I found myself getting very caught up. The possibilities for Kenya in the next two decades are really very exciting.
He says now that the government has a sound Constitution and coherent strategic plan in place, it has set the wheels in motion for unprecedented progress. He says the universities are now the factor slowing things down. He believes the role of Universities should be to observe the problems happening on the ground in Kenya- for example, ineffective agricultural practices. The universities should then research these problems, develop solutions, and then turn them over to the corporate sector to market them. These three entities (society, academia, and corporate) should ideally be highly interactive and responsive to one another. This is known as the "triple helix" approach to development.
Mike has started an initiative encouraging different universities in Kenya to adopt a county and focus on promoting development in that region. The initial reports are quite exciting.
I have concerns about the rate of growth of the organization and the extent to which they’ve deviated from their original purpose and focus. But Mike can’t be confined to small, safe ideas. He has the audacity to dream bigger and bigger all the time and it is great to watch those dreams take shape. I admit I normally tend to be a wet blanket when I hear wild dreams like this. But when I hear Mike talk it just gets me so excited! And I really start to believe its possible. The world needs more people like him.
Mike is such a visionary and a recruiter. As he was explaining to me about his visions and goals, how they fit with the Kenya 2030 Strategic plan, and the potential impact it could have on African development, I found myself getting very caught up. The possibilities for Kenya in the next two decades are really very exciting.
He says now that the government has a sound Constitution and coherent strategic plan in place, it has set the wheels in motion for unprecedented progress. He says the universities are now the factor slowing things down. He believes the role of Universities should be to observe the problems happening on the ground in Kenya- for example, ineffective agricultural practices. The universities should then research these problems, develop solutions, and then turn them over to the corporate sector to market them. These three entities (society, academia, and corporate) should ideally be highly interactive and responsive to one another. This is known as the "triple helix" approach to development.
Mike has started an initiative encouraging different universities in Kenya to adopt a county and focus on promoting development in that region. The initial reports are quite exciting.
I have concerns about the rate of growth of the organization and the extent to which they’ve deviated from their original purpose and focus. But Mike can’t be confined to small, safe ideas. He has the audacity to dream bigger and bigger all the time and it is great to watch those dreams take shape. I admit I normally tend to be a wet blanket when I hear wild dreams like this. But when I hear Mike talk it just gets me so excited! And I really start to believe its possible. The world needs more people like him.
Adjusting
I was daring last night. Reckless. I ate some salad I shouldn’t have. My stomach has forgotten what it used to know, back when I lived here. It no longer knows how to handle raw vegetables washed in tap water. So I’ve just had my first restless and fitful night of illness. I’m sure it won’t be the last.
It’s very chilly here. I’ve hardly seen the sun since I arrived; it has been overcast and threatening to rain every day. The house isn’t heated at all, so I find myself just burrowed in bed whenever I have the chance. It’s almost lunchtime here and I’m still burrowing. My stomach is hostile to the idea of food right now.
When my Kenyan friends see me, they all exclaim “You look the same! But you’ve lost weight!” with faint disapproval. They don’t believe America has been feeding me well enough. Shame, shame, America.
My stay is still going very pleasantly. My jet lag has been pretty minimal, which is surprising and wonderful. Two nights ago I slept for 12 hours. Twelve! I think I’m still recovering from the crazy travels.
It’s very chilly here. I’ve hardly seen the sun since I arrived; it has been overcast and threatening to rain every day. The house isn’t heated at all, so I find myself just burrowed in bed whenever I have the chance. It’s almost lunchtime here and I’m still burrowing. My stomach is hostile to the idea of food right now.
When my Kenyan friends see me, they all exclaim “You look the same! But you’ve lost weight!” with faint disapproval. They don’t believe America has been feeding me well enough. Shame, shame, America.
My stay is still going very pleasantly. My jet lag has been pretty minimal, which is surprising and wonderful. Two nights ago I slept for 12 hours. Twelve! I think I’m still recovering from the crazy travels.
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