"Courage dear heart"

We have seen quite a lot of good in Kenya. The land is beautiful. The people are warm and eager to welcome visitors. The sunsets are so unbelievably beautiful they defy description!

Last week, we were immersed in some of the bad.

Thursday, we went to Dandora, the dump site. Acres and acres of trash towers above the humble roof tops, putrifying the air and poisoning the people. The mountain of garbage used to spill into a school playground, making kids sick, until a German NGO built a wall to protect them. Now, the students don't play right in the trash, just in it's shadow.

We watched the kids play and returned their greetings as the stench of the rotting garbage turned our stomachs. Another example of the juxtaposition in Kenya; cheerful kids playing feet from such a mess.

Thursday was bad, but my heart was truly broken Friday. We went into Kibera, the largest slum in East Africa (maybe the world). About 1.3 million people are squeezed into an area of 5 miles. There is no plumbing and very little electricity. People can live their whole lives, birth, work, marriage, raising kids without ever leaving the slum, without ever seeing a tree or breathing fresh air.

We drove maybe a mile into Kibera through a sea of corrugated metal buildings before the streets became too narrow to pass. Then we (including our 3 armed guards - the slum is not a safe place) walked down narrow, twisting alleys to a little school to conduct a health camp. Each new alley brought new, terrible sights and smells. The filth, the garbage, the senseless poverty were almost paralysing. At one point, I just stopped in the middle of the path fighting back tears. How can people survive this? How do you get up and fight another day, when you make $1 a day and your slum lord charges you $25 a month for rent? 

We saw about 200 patients in a tiny school room. Almost every child had respiratory symptoms from the awful, close, smokey air they breathe. (Our lungs hurt after just a couple hours there.) Many, many patients had communicable skin conditions, like scabies and ring worm. Most also had intestinal parasites.

Like the last health camps, it was sweaty and exhausting work. Like the last health camps, it was worth it. We are here to light a candle, instead of just cursing the dark. We are here to love and serve, and I feel so honored to be able to come alongside those who serve in these terrible circumstances every day. It's awful and life changing and can only be faced with great courage, but there is hope...

The school that hosted our camp is an amazing example of fortitude and service. It started when a Kibera pastor's wife, Mary, saw all the young children home alone all day with no food while their parents worked. Mary couldn't stand to see them waste away, so she began wheeling a wheelbarrow full of beans and rice through the streets, feeding children as she went. Eventually, she began gathering the children in one place and teaching them songs and Bible stories. Now, they have a school building and feed and teach 125 preschoolers to first graders! Mary and all the teachers are volunteers. They don't make any money; they are just there as an act of service to the community. And it is an amazing, joyful oasis in the middle of the worst place I've ever seen.

Way Out West

Our trip to Western Kenya continued Saturday with a visit to a Shikusa Boys' Prison, home to about 300 boys aged 16-18. Shikusa is a surprisingly cheerful place. Although, I may not have an accurate picture of things because seeing a van full of cute, American nurses may have contributed to the smiles on the boys' faces; we did get a few wolf whistles when we entered. The superintendent, Chacha, is clearly deeply invested in the boys and really wants prison to be a chance for rehabilitation. The boys can go to school, learn furniture making, farming, and a variety of other trades. Some of them may actually end up in better situations after prison than before!

After introductions, we did a medical camp for the prisoners. While we triaged and treated a variety of infections (including one super awkward moment involving genital warts), a group of boys volunteered to wash our van. This small act of service really touched me. I think it is indicative of the positive tone of the prison and a true testament to the leadership there!

Saturday afternoon, we visited a school for the deaf. The kids were so excited to receive us that they started jumping up and done as soon as the van turned into their driveway. They were so sweet and so grateful. It was such a joy to see their smiles! My favorite part was that they all wanted to pose for pictures and then see them. They were total hams!

Sunday morning might have been one of my favorite parts of the weekend. We went to a local church in Kakamega, and let me tell you, Kenyans know how to worship. At one point during the music, a whole bunch of people made a conga line and started waving their chairs over their heads. It was pandemonium, in a good way!  Church was great people watching! Especially great was the tenderness of men with the children! Many Kenyan men are distant fathers, both geographically and emotionally. The men in this church are loving daddies. As a total daddy's girl myself, I know how important a father's love is! Again, I attribute this small, but great, thing to good leadership. Respect for the family is ingrained in this church. It felt so nice and homey.

On the way home, we made our driver stop at the Equator for a few pictures and even a dance.  It was such a fun, touristy thing to do! 

We got back to Nairobi late Monday night so tired and so changed. Spending a weekend giving so much was draining, but so refreshing! Bringing hope to the desperate and coming alongside the needy is true religion and comes with great rewards!

Down the Rabbit Hole

It's hard to know where to begin with this post. I feel like I've lived a lifetime since I left Seattle and like I came back to Nairobi a totally different person than I was five days ago. I feel like Alice when the catipillar asks who she is. I thought I knew who I was last week; now I'm not so sure.

Last Thursday, we drove a LONG way west from Nairobi to Majengo.  We saw all the archetypical African images, zebras, gazelle, people selling things on the side of the road,women carrying loads on their heads.... We even passed the Rift Valley! It is beautiful and green outside the city. The air is fresh and just humid enough to fill your lungs with sweetness.

Friday, we did a medical camp with World COMP at the local widows' center. Life for a Kenyan widow is very difficult because her husband's family often claims all his property and may even cast the widow out. She is left with no assets, very little skill, and children to feed. The widows ministry in Majengo is a group of about 700 widows who have banded together to improve their lives and their positions. They hosted our medical camp at their soon-to-be complete three story building that will host a number of money making enterprises for this desperately needy group of women and their children. 

The World COMP mini medical camp was staffed by Kenyan clinicians, nurses and pharmacists, who graciously let us participate. We triaged, treated and dispensed medications for at least 450 needy people in about 7 hours. It was a hot, busy, and deeply fulfilling day! I earned every drop of spear that rolled down my back and made my shirt smell like a REALLY filthy athletic sock! (The shower Friday night, despite oscillating between glacially cold and scalding hot and having the water pressure of a leaky faucet, was the very best of my life!)

Interacting with desperate people and, in some small way, making their lives better is why I got into nursing! Every twinge of back pain, every drop of sweat, every moment of feeling overwhelmed by neediness was repaid a thousand fold by the smiles and gratitude as I measured vital signs, looked deep into  beautiful, brown eyes and prayed to my God for intervention in their lives. This is why I'm here; this is what I want to do! How do I go home and live a normal, suburban life after this?

Kiswahili for Mzungus

Today, Wednesday, was our first day in the hospital. We are working at Kenyatta National Hospital, which is a 2000 bed, high acuity facility. It is the biggest hospital in East Africa, and they receive all the patients too sick for other hospitals in the region. I got placed on the pediatric floor today! It was so inspiring to see how the nurses innovate and adapt and provide care, despite their limited resources. I asked a nurse about a procedure and her response was "Honey, this is Africa." All the nurses I met today were incredibly dedicated and hard working and eager to improve health care in Kenyatta.

The patients were pretty adorable and reminded me that all over the world, kids are kids. Chloe and I quickly made friends of a crowd of boys who followed us all over the ward, playing with our stethoscopes and hand sanitizer. 

One of the nurses I met today told me to go mingle with patients while she charted. "Just go say hello," she said. "Some of them might speak English." It was kind of a surprise to me how few children speak English. The official national languages of Kenya are Kiswahili and English. Most people speak Kiswahili at home. Luckily, our awesome driver, Mesh, has been working hard to ensure that by the time we leave Kenya we all have a basic understanding of Kiswahili. 

Every morning he greets us "Habari Yasabui (how are you this morning)?" And expects us to reply "missuri (good)."  He gives us lists of words while we're stuck in the jam, and is super good at answering all our Kenya related questions. Despite his best efforts, I know just enough Kiswahili to respond when people shout "Mzungu (white person, literally aimless wanderer)" with a "jambo" and a cheerful smile.

Tuesday, we visited an orphanage and a workshop where women make jewkery and clothing. The clothing company, Judith and James, is run by a group of widows and supervised by our host, Nikki Hyodo. The jewelry company is run by a Texan, who gives a group of poor women a good wage and a lot of skills. The orphanage, or children's home, was super clean and nice and it was clear how deeply the staff and volunteers cared for the kids. It was fun to play with babies and school agers there!

We're heading out to the bush to do a medical camp tomorrow morning. We will be assisting Kenyan doctors and nurses with all sorts of screenings and interventions. It should definitely be an experience! Pray that the 8 hour car ride doesn't do me in though!

Nairobi + Diesel = love

As soon as we walked thru customs in Nairobi and out of the airport, I noticed the smell of diesel. The air in the city is heavy with exhaust fumes. And there is a reason for all this smog...

 The Nairobi traffic is incredible! Sunday, we spent two hours in "the jam." I thought after battling traffic on 405 every day I knew what congestion was. I was wrong! Rush hour here is much longer than an hour. Cars clog every street, following no traffic laws that I can discern. It's survival of the aggressive! I've always considered myself a competent driver, but there is NO WAY I would drive in Nairobi!

The weather is warm, but rainy and so muggy. The warm rain feels tropical and the smell on the warm pavement is nice, but we're hoping it dries out a little before we leave. February is usually the dry season, people we have met here are thrilled we have brought this little piece of Seattle with us - sorry to those Seattlites whose rain we stole, which left a hole for the snow to fill!

Monday we met with the amazing Dr. Saldera, who OWNS two hospitals in Kenya. He is our connection to Kenyatta International Hospital, where we will be working. He is taking Monday and Tuesday off work to connect us with people at the hospital and make sure we get oriented. 

It is incredibly humbling that so many people here in Kenya are investing time and energy into our success! People are lining up to help us get where we need to go and do what we need to do to succeed in our experience. We have been told many times that since this is the first time Northwest University has come to Kenya, we are the guinea pigs. But beyond that, we are the ambassadors. I feel a lot of pressure to be worthy of the trust given to us and the time and treasure invested in us. Like I blogged before, I don't know that I really have that much to give the people of Kenya, but I want so badly to live up to the hopes of the Kenyans investing in us!

In the beginning....

Our first full day in Kenya. We started with a visit to Huruma, a small slum, where we were a big hit with the scores of cheerful kids. They followed us up and down the muddy alleys shouting "Mzungu, how are you?" I've always been impressed by pictures of missionaries surrounded by crowds of African kids. Turns out, those pictures are not that difficult to procure. Any white person walking around the slums is likely to attract all kinds of childish attention. As long as you have a camera handy, it's a perfect, easy photo op.

There was an awesome secondary school in the slum build out of shipping containers. The house dad showed us around, pointing out the pretty advanced science lab and computer lab filled with laptops. New Dawn Secondary School has about 200 high school students, mostly from Huruma and other nearby  slums. Due to both questionable politics and heavy Western support, the fees at this private school are much less than public school fees. The school was a good example of donor money helping to educate and empower Kenyans. The only way to make a lasting impact here is to help them help themselves.

From the slum, we went to a shopping mall. What a juxtaposition! The mall, located just minutes from Huruma, was so fancy I felt out place. Sitting in the food court, surrounded by wealthy people from all over the world felt like I could have been on Rodeo Drive. It even had the palm trees!

It was a good day, busy enough to stave off jet lag and a glimpse of where we're headed on this trip. We breezed in and out of the slum before we could really absorb the poverty and the tragedy. This was a warm up. I'm sure the darkness will come. I will feel overwhelmed by the senselessness and feel powerless in the face of suffering, but today I got to just fall in love with a crowd of running, laughing children who wanted to shake my hand.

It's the Final Countdown!

Hooray! My suitcase is packed. My second suitcase is filled with medical supplies (thanks to some amazingly generous friends and family, and random community members)! We have confirmed a safe and cozy place to stay that reportedly involves cute kids and WiFi, so I'm on board. Only a really long flight, with a layover in Amsterdam, separates me from Nairobi!

Now, I am free to think about the really important things:
1) I bought a pair of pants that zip into capris. I'm uncertain whether this is an acceptable fashion choice, even in Africa. Does the fact that they're super flattering change the debate any?
2) There is an extremely remote possibility that I might be kidnapped by Somali militants. If that should happen, please don't let my parents give the news an unattractive picture of me. If I make it out of captivity, I'll be seriously displeased to find an ugly picture of me plastered all over Seattle.
3) I didn't pack eyeliner. Can I really go to another continent without eyeliner? What if there's an eyeliner emergency?
4) When did I become so focused on appearances? Pretty sure I will benefit from the healthy dose of reality in Kenya! Fashion choices, bad pictures, and even eyeliner are really so peripheral to who and what I want to be. I want to encourage the hurting and to love the marginalized. I want to serve, and give, and be a force for good. Those things are a lot less apt to happen when I'm worried about how my pants look.

"Disturb us, Lord, when we are too well pleased with ourselves, when our dreams come true because we have dreamed too little, when we arrive safely because we have sailed too close to the shore. Disturb us, Lord." - Sir Frances Drake (via an amazing nurse I shadowed in my community health clinical rotation)