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.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
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.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Nimefika
It’s kind of nice how waking up early due to jet lag gives me the opportunity to write more blog entries.
Yesterday was a beautiful reunion with my beloved Nairobi, blemished only by my extreme fatigue. As I waited in the long visa line at the airport in Nairobi, the guys in front of me struck up small talk. “Where are you from? What organization are you with?” Amazingly, we discovered we were all there visiting the Kenya Navigators. There had been hundreds of people on our flight, about 8 different visa lines, and out of all of them we ended up right next to each other. It turned out that their flight had been delayed and they weren’t sure they had anyone there to pick them up.
When we finally got out of the airport, Erastus (my ride) was not there. This would have really worried me if I had been by myself. But it worked out really nicely that I was able to borrow their phone to call him (turned out he was desperately searching for parking), and then Erastus was able to pick us up without parking and drive us all to where we needed to go. One of the guys, who was visiting Kenya for the first time, told me he was their “first God sighting.” I think they were mine too.
Traffic was unusually terrible on the way from the airport and it took us about two and a half hours to get to Erastus’ house. All the while we were crammed into his vehicle with a million bags, breathing noxious highway fumes. I had hardly slept in 40 some hours. I’m sure I smelled wonderful.
Steve, one of the guys we picked up, was actually in charge of Navigator “Africa partners” which is the branch of the Navigators I should be under now, technically, since I’m no longer on staff but I have a history with the Navs Africa. After hearing my story, he told me he was very grieved that I felt there was no place for my heart for the poor within the Navs Africa. He wished the Navs hadn’t lost me and encouraged me to think about whether there might be a way to integrate those things. But he acknowledged that he himself had seen the many struggles of other people trying to integrate discipleship and development and that there is no straightforward answer. It was a very interesting conversation. I’m so glad for the very Providential “coincidence” of running into them.
At Erastus’ house it was wonderful to see Susan and the girls (who have grown like crazy). I had breakfast with them and we all caught up. They had a lot to share about all that has happened for them in the last two years. I was amazed that I was functioning at all, after neglecting pretty much every need of my body for so long. I had to practice the discipline of sitting in uncomfortable positions in order to stay awake.
Then Erastus brought me to Jemima’s house, where I will be staying these two weeks. The drive down Ngong Road, my old stomping grounds, was so incredible. The flood of memories alone was so sweet, but then to see how much it has been built up in just two years was amazing. It has been really transformed. I rejoice because these are signs of economic progress in Kenya.
Then Jemima and I talked the whole entire day! It was so great hearing from her, sitting in our old house just like old times. I wish I’d been more alert, of course, but it was just a perfect day. We visited the neighborhood shopkeeper, who still remembered me. I faked my way through our Swahili conversation and she believed I had even improved. I forced myself to stay awake until about 7:30pm, and then crashed for the first time in 54 hours. Sweet, sweet sleep.
I’m reminded of the incredible hospitality here, the beautiful gift of TIME and rich relationship that people share with one another so generously. I’m reminded of the simplest provisions of God expressed in chance airport encounters. The unseen realities of my faith are seen here.
It really feels like coming home.
Yesterday was a beautiful reunion with my beloved Nairobi, blemished only by my extreme fatigue. As I waited in the long visa line at the airport in Nairobi, the guys in front of me struck up small talk. “Where are you from? What organization are you with?” Amazingly, we discovered we were all there visiting the Kenya Navigators. There had been hundreds of people on our flight, about 8 different visa lines, and out of all of them we ended up right next to each other. It turned out that their flight had been delayed and they weren’t sure they had anyone there to pick them up.
When we finally got out of the airport, Erastus (my ride) was not there. This would have really worried me if I had been by myself. But it worked out really nicely that I was able to borrow their phone to call him (turned out he was desperately searching for parking), and then Erastus was able to pick us up without parking and drive us all to where we needed to go. One of the guys, who was visiting Kenya for the first time, told me he was their “first God sighting.” I think they were mine too.
Traffic was unusually terrible on the way from the airport and it took us about two and a half hours to get to Erastus’ house. All the while we were crammed into his vehicle with a million bags, breathing noxious highway fumes. I had hardly slept in 40 some hours. I’m sure I smelled wonderful.
Steve, one of the guys we picked up, was actually in charge of Navigator “Africa partners” which is the branch of the Navigators I should be under now, technically, since I’m no longer on staff but I have a history with the Navs Africa. After hearing my story, he told me he was very grieved that I felt there was no place for my heart for the poor within the Navs Africa. He wished the Navs hadn’t lost me and encouraged me to think about whether there might be a way to integrate those things. But he acknowledged that he himself had seen the many struggles of other people trying to integrate discipleship and development and that there is no straightforward answer. It was a very interesting conversation. I’m so glad for the very Providential “coincidence” of running into them.
At Erastus’ house it was wonderful to see Susan and the girls (who have grown like crazy). I had breakfast with them and we all caught up. They had a lot to share about all that has happened for them in the last two years. I was amazed that I was functioning at all, after neglecting pretty much every need of my body for so long. I had to practice the discipline of sitting in uncomfortable positions in order to stay awake.
Then Erastus brought me to Jemima’s house, where I will be staying these two weeks. The drive down Ngong Road, my old stomping grounds, was so incredible. The flood of memories alone was so sweet, but then to see how much it has been built up in just two years was amazing. It has been really transformed. I rejoice because these are signs of economic progress in Kenya.
Then Jemima and I talked the whole entire day! It was so great hearing from her, sitting in our old house just like old times. I wish I’d been more alert, of course, but it was just a perfect day. We visited the neighborhood shopkeeper, who still remembered me. I faked my way through our Swahili conversation and she believed I had even improved. I forced myself to stay awake until about 7:30pm, and then crashed for the first time in 54 hours. Sweet, sweet sleep.
I’m reminded of the incredible hospitality here, the beautiful gift of TIME and rich relationship that people share with one another so generously. I’m reminded of the simplest provisions of God expressed in chance airport encounters. The unseen realities of my faith are seen here.
It really feels like coming home.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Lay Over
I’m currently en route to Nairobi. Its been so long since I’ve been there and I just can’t wait to finally arrive.
I’ve been in the Amsterdam airport for what feels like an eternity. I guess it’s been six hours so far. Three to go. I’m so tired and there is no place to lay down in this entire airport. I have looked.
My flight from Detroit to Amsterdam went smoothly. I sat next to this nice German guy who was just coming back from a scientific conference. His English was good, but not great. It was his first trip ever to the US so I had a fun time hearing his impressions. He was deeply horrified that a Muslim cab driver tried to talk to him about the Koran, and thought American buildings were far too air conditioned.
He tried to order this somewhat complicated mixture of juices from the flight attendant, who was clearly in a hurry. She didn’t mix them quite right, which displeased him. As she moved on, he leaned over to me and whispered knowingly “She was quite hectic-al.”
This made me so happy. These are the perks of international flights.
I’ve been in the Amsterdam airport for what feels like an eternity. I guess it’s been six hours so far. Three to go. I’m so tired and there is no place to lay down in this entire airport. I have looked.
My flight from Detroit to Amsterdam went smoothly. I sat next to this nice German guy who was just coming back from a scientific conference. His English was good, but not great. It was his first trip ever to the US so I had a fun time hearing his impressions. He was deeply horrified that a Muslim cab driver tried to talk to him about the Koran, and thought American buildings were far too air conditioned.
He tried to order this somewhat complicated mixture of juices from the flight attendant, who was clearly in a hurry. She didn’t mix them quite right, which displeased him. As she moved on, he leaned over to me and whispered knowingly “She was quite hectic-al.”
This made me so happy. These are the perks of international flights.
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