I don't have anything profound to share this evening, just a few reflections. I have really been blessed by my time at the hospital. It is just such a joy to be in the presence of mothers and their newborn babies. I was reminded that sometimes bringing new life into the world comes with added responsibility as I met a newborn baby with Down Syndrome in the nursery. Unlike in the United States, most people do not have the luxury of prenatal testing, so the diagnosis came as a surprise to the mother. Still a beautiful baby and I can only hope that it receives the resources it needs as it progresses through life. Another baby is fighting a high fever, while another lies in the incubator. But I am just so inspired by the mothers' and the strength they display.
I was talking to a lady who is a security guard at the hospital. I was asking about her children and who watches them during the day. She smiled and said very matter-of-factly, "Oh they look after themselves." I could not contain my shock as I said..."But they are only 4 and 6, right?" "Yeah, the 6-year-old takes care of the 4-year-old." I was just silent for a bit, as I tried to wrap my mind around this logic. I had so many questions...who feeds them? How do they get a hold of you if they need someone? What is one of them gets hurt? Do they feel abandoned? Are they scared? Yet I immediately scolded myself for my harsh judgment of her parenting. As a single mother, what other choice does she have? In her mind, the salary from working 7 days a week is worth more in terms of providing for her children than any other alternative. And sadly, her situation is one of the better ones in that she has a stable job with a steady income. As I rode in the van today, I just kept thinking how I do not understand how people survive here. I mean, I understand, a least on a basic level, how people arrive at their socioeconomic statuses in America. Even for those without a job or a home, there are some resources which are accessible...whether it be friends and family, a shelter, a welfare check, a soup kitchen... But as I was sitting in the car, I look out and in maybe a 300 foot stretch of road, I saw 5 different women selling charcoal. And I just couldn't help but wonder how they survive. Even if a lot of people need charcoal...even if they sell to maybe 5 customers a day, how in the world do they make enough to support themselves, much less their families? Yet they do. Somehow they do.
And it just brings me to tears thinking about how the choices people here have to make are so much harder than the ones I have to make. They have to choose between food and clothes...while I choose my major in school or which souvenirs I want to take home. They choose between buying medication and sending their children to school. I choose between what type of nursing I want to do or what kind of sandwich I want for lunch. I have to keep some sort of perspective though. As much as I want to understand, there is still a trench between us...I am white. I am American. I am "rich" by their standards. I have choices. And I cannot pretend I do know what their lives really are like. Just saying I like Kenya or I want to live here really means nothing. I can only hope my actions speak forth more than my words. That when I ask them a question, I wait long enough to hear the answer. And that love bridges all.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
Gaining Perspective
As I was journaling a couple nights ago, I had this thought that really spoke to me:
I know a lot about Kenya but not a lot about Kenyans.
It takes a long time to really get to know a people. It's like you take for granted that you really know your own culture because you have been raised in it to the point where it is completely natural. It is only when coming into contact with another's culture that you begin to realize things about your own culture. Of course, I recognize a month is not near enough time to get to know the Kenyan culture, but I do believe it is a good starting point. I can read books, perform Google searches, talk about Africa, support causes....but it is a completely different thing to get to know the people...to understand the way they think about things, to know what they value, what makes them happy and sad and upset and content, to hear their stories, to begin to share in their lives as a companion as opposed to an observer. It may be years before I have the chance to move here permanently, but for now I will relish in all the opportunities I have been provided to come to know Kenyans.
A couple examples to share. When I arrived at the baggage claim in the Nairobi airport, an African Impact driver named Bernard picked me up. Now I was exhausted from long travels, it was raining outside, and here I was with this complete stranger driving a good 2 hours to Limuru....but thanks be to God, we immediately connected. We shared about our families, our travels, our passions. We talked about our faith, hardships we had been through, and beauty of Kenya. We discussed our mutual love of reading and I showed him the book I was reading at the time, "Strength in What Remains" by Tracy Kidder. He nonchalantly asked if he could read it, and I said I would be happy to give it to him once I had finished. Well yesterday was the first time that I have seen him since, and this morning I presented him with the book. Oh, the look of joy in his face! Now this book cost me less than $5, but to him, this book was such a valuable gift.
Yesterday I was in the maternity ward and was quite happy to see Mary, a nursing student I had met a few days before. She graciously let me tag along and assist her with her daily routine. We were able to share some laughs and I began to pick up on her sense of humor. After we shared a cup of tea together (this is a very important part of a nurse's day), she told me that for lunch we would go to "the place where she likes to eat and fall asleep." I just smiled and happily followed her outside as she took me back behind the hospital buildings to a grassy area behind the surgical theatre. We took a seat and began to eat our lunch in the sun. We talked some, but mostly eat and sat in silence, just enjoying each other's company while resting both our body and mind. When our lunch time was over, we picked ourselves up and happily walked back into the ward, ready to get back to work.
It's amazing how quickly you end up adapting to a new place after just a short time. For instance, today on the ride home one of the volunteers said, "Hey look, there's a camel." Surprisingly, my initial reaction was just to casually look out the window and think to myself, "hmm that's a nice looking camel." I expect the roads to be uneven, bumpy, and at times cause you to hit your head on the roof of the van. I always bring hand sanitizer as I rarely have water, soap, AND something to dry my hands with. I'm not surprised that when children on the road see me they either smile and wave excitedly, or look completely frightened. Still, there are things I am NOT used to. First one being haggling. I absolutely hate it! Today the minute we walk into the Masai Market in Nairobi, you have every vendor yelling at you, trying to shake your hand, asking you to look at their merchandise, and reminding you that "looking is free." Yet the very second you even glance at something they are selling, it is as if you have committed to buy it! And you can never just tell them you want to buy just ONE, they want you to buy 2, 3, even 4. And you just want to say "I am sorry but I do not want four chessboards" or "The last thing I need is a carved elephant and zebra," but of course, you end up saying "I'll think about it." And then if you actually WANT something, the games begin. Sometimes they will not even give you a price to start at, they instead make YOU tell them a price. Although this sounds customer friendly, it is definitely not. You name a price too high and then you just got ripped off. You name a price too low and they feel completely insulted, and you feel guilty as you are fully aware you have more than that in your pocket. So you convince them to tell you a price. Someone told me to get a fair price (as they try to rip us off because we are white and are loaded with money), you need to take the price they offer, divide it in 1/2 and then subtract a couple 100 shillings. Of course, when you name this newly calculated price, they act like you have just shot them in the heart. So then you are faced with a dilemma...do you give in and increase your offer substantially? Or do you stand firm and walk away insisting that is your price? Do you attempt to increase your price a little bit and meet in the middle? Sometimes when I reach this crossroad, I realize I may not even want this painting or bowl or necklace at all! All this to say, I got some nice artwork today at a good price. And I am exhausted.
I know a lot about Kenya but not a lot about Kenyans.
It takes a long time to really get to know a people. It's like you take for granted that you really know your own culture because you have been raised in it to the point where it is completely natural. It is only when coming into contact with another's culture that you begin to realize things about your own culture. Of course, I recognize a month is not near enough time to get to know the Kenyan culture, but I do believe it is a good starting point. I can read books, perform Google searches, talk about Africa, support causes....but it is a completely different thing to get to know the people...to understand the way they think about things, to know what they value, what makes them happy and sad and upset and content, to hear their stories, to begin to share in their lives as a companion as opposed to an observer. It may be years before I have the chance to move here permanently, but for now I will relish in all the opportunities I have been provided to come to know Kenyans.
A couple examples to share. When I arrived at the baggage claim in the Nairobi airport, an African Impact driver named Bernard picked me up. Now I was exhausted from long travels, it was raining outside, and here I was with this complete stranger driving a good 2 hours to Limuru....but thanks be to God, we immediately connected. We shared about our families, our travels, our passions. We talked about our faith, hardships we had been through, and beauty of Kenya. We discussed our mutual love of reading and I showed him the book I was reading at the time, "Strength in What Remains" by Tracy Kidder. He nonchalantly asked if he could read it, and I said I would be happy to give it to him once I had finished. Well yesterday was the first time that I have seen him since, and this morning I presented him with the book. Oh, the look of joy in his face! Now this book cost me less than $5, but to him, this book was such a valuable gift.
Yesterday I was in the maternity ward and was quite happy to see Mary, a nursing student I had met a few days before. She graciously let me tag along and assist her with her daily routine. We were able to share some laughs and I began to pick up on her sense of humor. After we shared a cup of tea together (this is a very important part of a nurse's day), she told me that for lunch we would go to "the place where she likes to eat and fall asleep." I just smiled and happily followed her outside as she took me back behind the hospital buildings to a grassy area behind the surgical theatre. We took a seat and began to eat our lunch in the sun. We talked some, but mostly eat and sat in silence, just enjoying each other's company while resting both our body and mind. When our lunch time was over, we picked ourselves up and happily walked back into the ward, ready to get back to work.
It's amazing how quickly you end up adapting to a new place after just a short time. For instance, today on the ride home one of the volunteers said, "Hey look, there's a camel." Surprisingly, my initial reaction was just to casually look out the window and think to myself, "hmm that's a nice looking camel." I expect the roads to be uneven, bumpy, and at times cause you to hit your head on the roof of the van. I always bring hand sanitizer as I rarely have water, soap, AND something to dry my hands with. I'm not surprised that when children on the road see me they either smile and wave excitedly, or look completely frightened. Still, there are things I am NOT used to. First one being haggling. I absolutely hate it! Today the minute we walk into the Masai Market in Nairobi, you have every vendor yelling at you, trying to shake your hand, asking you to look at their merchandise, and reminding you that "looking is free." Yet the very second you even glance at something they are selling, it is as if you have committed to buy it! And you can never just tell them you want to buy just ONE, they want you to buy 2, 3, even 4. And you just want to say "I am sorry but I do not want four chessboards" or "The last thing I need is a carved elephant and zebra," but of course, you end up saying "I'll think about it." And then if you actually WANT something, the games begin. Sometimes they will not even give you a price to start at, they instead make YOU tell them a price. Although this sounds customer friendly, it is definitely not. You name a price too high and then you just got ripped off. You name a price too low and they feel completely insulted, and you feel guilty as you are fully aware you have more than that in your pocket. So you convince them to tell you a price. Someone told me to get a fair price (as they try to rip us off because we are white and are loaded with money), you need to take the price they offer, divide it in 1/2 and then subtract a couple 100 shillings. Of course, when you name this newly calculated price, they act like you have just shot them in the heart. So then you are faced with a dilemma...do you give in and increase your offer substantially? Or do you stand firm and walk away insisting that is your price? Do you attempt to increase your price a little bit and meet in the middle? Sometimes when I reach this crossroad, I realize I may not even want this painting or bowl or necklace at all! All this to say, I got some nice artwork today at a good price. And I am exhausted.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Circle of Life
In addition to being a very beautiful song from the Lion King, the "Circle of Life" relates to the stages of life I have witnessed thus far in Kenya...from birth to near death. I will elaborate on that shortly.
Days I have been in Kenya: 8
Pictures Taken: 249
Times I have had to squat & pee in a hole: 2
Days with sun: 2
Nights with a fire built: 8
Current number of volunteers: 16
Mosquito Bites [that I am aware of]: 0!
Let me attempt to quickly update you on the past several days. On Saturday, I got to go to the Imara Clinic that is located on the outskirts of the Mukuru slum. Despite a long drive thanks to Nairobi traffic, I absolutely loved my time spent there. It is not big or elaborate by any means, but the work that they do with very little space, resources, and staff is quite amazing. The nurse that I spoke to told me she normally works 24 hour shifts! Somehow they manage to keep the clinic open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. While I was there, they were doing baby immunizations, so I got to see a lot of adorable children. My job was to weigh the babies, record their weights on the chart, and administer the oral polio vaccine. Having seen a patient suffering from polio in the hospital, my appreciation for the vaccine has increased tremendously. Although children are vaccinated routinely at home in the States, as I watched these children receive their shots and the 2 drops I placed in their mouths, it really hit me that this makes a difference. These children coming in are the future and if they can be spared from some horrible preventable diseases, then that is one step closer that Kenya, and other impoverished countries, are to saving the next generation.
On Sunday, 5 of us volunteers went to Hell's Gate National Park. We rented bicycles at the entrance and cycled along bumpy, rocky paths through some amazing scenery. It is a fairly dry area, but has breath-taking rock formations and some wildlife...mostly zebras and gazelles. But still...to be biking along next to a zebra is pretty great. So we biked until we reached the place where you can go hiking/climbing down into a gorge. A guide took us on this hike...and it was a bit intense for me....at several points we had to climb rocks and there were just small notches upon which to put your feet...but we all survived. The views were lovely...parts of it were inspiration for some of the scenery in Lion King. Fun day out (and still a bit sore).
Yesterday and today I have been in maternity ward at the hospital. It has been quite amazing to be able to see some many newborn babies! I love being with the brand-new babies in the nursery. Today I was on rounds with the doctors as they consulted with a lady, then all of a sudden she was on a stretcher going to "theatre" so I got to go and watch her C-section! Then later baby Neema (which means Grace in Swahili) was brought to the nursery were we bathed her and put on her first outfit. It was quite neat to be able to welcome a child into the world in that way. I have learned a lot being in a new department. In comparison to the men's ward, the maternity ward is a bit nicer and a little better equipped. However, all the women who have given birth are all together in the ward with their beds just separated by some curtains. I have to give Kenyan (and probably all African) woman some major credit because despite the great pain they must be experiencing, they rarely cry out and do not receive medications for pain. I was told a good number of women still have their children in their homes, and that most of the women who come to the hospital either have some money or they have been advised to do so due to a secondary condition or possible birth complication. There was a women who gave birth sometime last night and I learned about her case while the doctors made rounds. Apparently she had some sort of cardiac surgery a few years ago because she has rheumatic heart disease (a complication of a strep infection). She has not been taking her heart medications since the surgery because she said she can't afford them. The doctors seemed quite concerned, and advised her not to have any more children so she "wouldn't risk leaving any more behind." One thing I have noticed is that a lot of the health care providers here do not easily sympathize with their patients. They seem to have a more matter-of-fact and tell-it-like-it-is attitude. I find myself wanting so badly to provide a reassuring word or somehow lighten the burden of the news the patients receive...yet with a language barrier and even my skin color, it is quite difficult to do.
It's kind of the age-old lesson of you think you are going somewhere to serve or to help others, but you find that really they are helping you, that everything you witness is teaching you and giving you a new perspective on pain, suffering, resiliency, health, resources. I do know one thing for certain- I want to move to Kenya and I want to start a clinic...a free clinic... It still seems like a distant dream...and quite a big project for a young nurse from the US, but that's what puts my heart at peace. I think a lesson God has been teaching me for awhile now is don't make too many plans...because life is happening now. And so for now, I am here in Kenya...having an amazing time, learning and seeing and experiencing so much.
As a Kenyan proverb says: Hurrying has no blessing.
Days I have been in Kenya: 8
Pictures Taken: 249
Times I have had to squat & pee in a hole: 2
Days with sun: 2
Nights with a fire built: 8
Current number of volunteers: 16
Mosquito Bites [that I am aware of]: 0!
Let me attempt to quickly update you on the past several days. On Saturday, I got to go to the Imara Clinic that is located on the outskirts of the Mukuru slum. Despite a long drive thanks to Nairobi traffic, I absolutely loved my time spent there. It is not big or elaborate by any means, but the work that they do with very little space, resources, and staff is quite amazing. The nurse that I spoke to told me she normally works 24 hour shifts! Somehow they manage to keep the clinic open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. While I was there, they were doing baby immunizations, so I got to see a lot of adorable children. My job was to weigh the babies, record their weights on the chart, and administer the oral polio vaccine. Having seen a patient suffering from polio in the hospital, my appreciation for the vaccine has increased tremendously. Although children are vaccinated routinely at home in the States, as I watched these children receive their shots and the 2 drops I placed in their mouths, it really hit me that this makes a difference. These children coming in are the future and if they can be spared from some horrible preventable diseases, then that is one step closer that Kenya, and other impoverished countries, are to saving the next generation.
On Sunday, 5 of us volunteers went to Hell's Gate National Park. We rented bicycles at the entrance and cycled along bumpy, rocky paths through some amazing scenery. It is a fairly dry area, but has breath-taking rock formations and some wildlife...mostly zebras and gazelles. But still...to be biking along next to a zebra is pretty great. So we biked until we reached the place where you can go hiking/climbing down into a gorge. A guide took us on this hike...and it was a bit intense for me....at several points we had to climb rocks and there were just small notches upon which to put your feet...but we all survived. The views were lovely...parts of it were inspiration for some of the scenery in Lion King. Fun day out (and still a bit sore).
Yesterday and today I have been in maternity ward at the hospital. It has been quite amazing to be able to see some many newborn babies! I love being with the brand-new babies in the nursery. Today I was on rounds with the doctors as they consulted with a lady, then all of a sudden she was on a stretcher going to "theatre" so I got to go and watch her C-section! Then later baby Neema (which means Grace in Swahili) was brought to the nursery were we bathed her and put on her first outfit. It was quite neat to be able to welcome a child into the world in that way. I have learned a lot being in a new department. In comparison to the men's ward, the maternity ward is a bit nicer and a little better equipped. However, all the women who have given birth are all together in the ward with their beds just separated by some curtains. I have to give Kenyan (and probably all African) woman some major credit because despite the great pain they must be experiencing, they rarely cry out and do not receive medications for pain. I was told a good number of women still have their children in their homes, and that most of the women who come to the hospital either have some money or they have been advised to do so due to a secondary condition or possible birth complication. There was a women who gave birth sometime last night and I learned about her case while the doctors made rounds. Apparently she had some sort of cardiac surgery a few years ago because she has rheumatic heart disease (a complication of a strep infection). She has not been taking her heart medications since the surgery because she said she can't afford them. The doctors seemed quite concerned, and advised her not to have any more children so she "wouldn't risk leaving any more behind." One thing I have noticed is that a lot of the health care providers here do not easily sympathize with their patients. They seem to have a more matter-of-fact and tell-it-like-it-is attitude. I find myself wanting so badly to provide a reassuring word or somehow lighten the burden of the news the patients receive...yet with a language barrier and even my skin color, it is quite difficult to do.
It's kind of the age-old lesson of you think you are going somewhere to serve or to help others, but you find that really they are helping you, that everything you witness is teaching you and giving you a new perspective on pain, suffering, resiliency, health, resources. I do know one thing for certain- I want to move to Kenya and I want to start a clinic...a free clinic... It still seems like a distant dream...and quite a big project for a young nurse from the US, but that's what puts my heart at peace. I think a lesson God has been teaching me for awhile now is don't make too many plans...because life is happening now. And so for now, I am here in Kenya...having an amazing time, learning and seeing and experiencing so much.
As a Kenyan proverb says: Hurrying has no blessing.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Hope
It's Friday night here in Kenya. Despite what you may be imagining, it is quite cold. In fact, I have worn a sweatshirt every day I have been here and currently there is a fire burning in the room I am in. I have to say that I am pretty spoiled in terms of my accommodations. But it is nice to have a place to relax at the end of the day.
Today we went to Hope School in Limuru, which was only a short drive from the volunteer house. School is not actually in session now, as it is "holiday," but that actually makes it a better time to haul in a bunch of volunteers to do some work. We had been told that the objective for the day was to "plant a hedge." When we arrived, it was discovered the "hedge" (the plants) had not arrived yet, so we decided to clear some debris and trash while we waited. Immediately, the kids began to come. Pretty much wherever the "mezungus" are, the kids follow. They were actually quite eager to help us, although seeing young children with machetes in their hands was quite alarming. The debris we were picking up and collecting in a pile contained all sorts of things. I found clothes, shoes, bottles, cassette tapes, wrappers, corn cobs, broken glass, among other things. Once we had a decent sized pile, it was doused in some lighter fluid and lit to burn. I guess when you do not have any waste removal system in place, this is the best option.
While the trash collecting was in process, some donkeys trotted by pulling a cart full of small green plants. We dug holes along the perimeter of the barbwire fence enclosing the school and planted probably around 50 or so plants. I got quite dirty, but had a great time. It is very satisfying to beautify a place that seems so thirsty for new life. I hope that the plants take root and grow big and strong, and are present for many children to see as they come to school.
Now the number of kids just exponentially increased as the morning wore on. All ages, from infant babies being held by their siblings, to 12 and 13 year olds. They were so happy to see us. They just wanted to hold my hand, touch my hair, be picked up. One little girl, Joyce, was mesmerized by my watch. She was probably only 5 or 6 years old. She just loved pushing the buttons on the side to make a short beeping noise. She did it over and over again. At one point she looked up at me and said "I want it." Now, I am not necessarily attached to my watch as a possession, but as it currently serves as my alarm clock and only way to keep time, it has become sort of a necessity. I shook my head, but man was she persistent. She eventually surrendered her efforts and seemed content holding my hand, even fighting other kids who tried to hold my hand as well. We did the Hokey Pokey with the kids, and then played some of their games. They were all smiles and having so much fun. In those moments it didn't matter that their clothes were falling apart or that they smelled of urine or their heads had patches of a fungal infection. It just mattered that we are share a common thread....we are human, we have a soul, we long to be touched, we need to be loved.
Even as I type this, it brings tears to my eyes. I find it so hard to know what the best way to help children like these is. They clearly lack some essential material goods, but does providing those things for them on a short-term basis really help? And who am I to say that I really know what things they need. And if you treat the fungal infection on their head, what about their lack of good nutrition, their high risk of developing other tropical diseases, and even compliance with treatment? Then a part of you thinks it must be best just to support the projects and organizations that work with these kids...but is that the easy way out?
I guess the two things I have come to learn thus far are 1) I need to learn Swahili if I am ever going to come back here. It is just a must. It is so difficult to have a language barrier and really know people's needs and 2) I will never be able to help everyone. There is no program, organization, project, hospital, etc. that can meet all people's needs. And that is really hard to come to terms with, but I think God just asks us to be faithful in the work we are given to do.
Today we went to Hope School in Limuru, which was only a short drive from the volunteer house. School is not actually in session now, as it is "holiday," but that actually makes it a better time to haul in a bunch of volunteers to do some work. We had been told that the objective for the day was to "plant a hedge." When we arrived, it was discovered the "hedge" (the plants) had not arrived yet, so we decided to clear some debris and trash while we waited. Immediately, the kids began to come. Pretty much wherever the "mezungus" are, the kids follow. They were actually quite eager to help us, although seeing young children with machetes in their hands was quite alarming. The debris we were picking up and collecting in a pile contained all sorts of things. I found clothes, shoes, bottles, cassette tapes, wrappers, corn cobs, broken glass, among other things. Once we had a decent sized pile, it was doused in some lighter fluid and lit to burn. I guess when you do not have any waste removal system in place, this is the best option.
While the trash collecting was in process, some donkeys trotted by pulling a cart full of small green plants. We dug holes along the perimeter of the barbwire fence enclosing the school and planted probably around 50 or so plants. I got quite dirty, but had a great time. It is very satisfying to beautify a place that seems so thirsty for new life. I hope that the plants take root and grow big and strong, and are present for many children to see as they come to school.
Now the number of kids just exponentially increased as the morning wore on. All ages, from infant babies being held by their siblings, to 12 and 13 year olds. They were so happy to see us. They just wanted to hold my hand, touch my hair, be picked up. One little girl, Joyce, was mesmerized by my watch. She was probably only 5 or 6 years old. She just loved pushing the buttons on the side to make a short beeping noise. She did it over and over again. At one point she looked up at me and said "I want it." Now, I am not necessarily attached to my watch as a possession, but as it currently serves as my alarm clock and only way to keep time, it has become sort of a necessity. I shook my head, but man was she persistent. She eventually surrendered her efforts and seemed content holding my hand, even fighting other kids who tried to hold my hand as well. We did the Hokey Pokey with the kids, and then played some of their games. They were all smiles and having so much fun. In those moments it didn't matter that their clothes were falling apart or that they smelled of urine or their heads had patches of a fungal infection. It just mattered that we are share a common thread....we are human, we have a soul, we long to be touched, we need to be loved.
Even as I type this, it brings tears to my eyes. I find it so hard to know what the best way to help children like these is. They clearly lack some essential material goods, but does providing those things for them on a short-term basis really help? And who am I to say that I really know what things they need. And if you treat the fungal infection on their head, what about their lack of good nutrition, their high risk of developing other tropical diseases, and even compliance with treatment? Then a part of you thinks it must be best just to support the projects and organizations that work with these kids...but is that the easy way out?
I guess the two things I have come to learn thus far are 1) I need to learn Swahili if I am ever going to come back here. It is just a must. It is so difficult to have a language barrier and really know people's needs and 2) I will never be able to help everyone. There is no program, organization, project, hospital, etc. that can meet all people's needs. And that is really hard to come to terms with, but I think God just asks us to be faithful in the work we are given to do.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Jambo tangu Kenya!
I'm here! I arrived exhausted but well on Monday evening with both of my bags! I can honestly say I really do enjoy the transportation part of traveling. I sat next to wonderful people on the plane...on my last flight I sat next to a nurse who was on her way to Tanzania to do a clinic there...so we had LOTS to talk about. It was raining when I arrived in Nairobi, and it was a 2-hour drive to Limuru, where the volunteer house is located. Let me just say Nairobi traffic is absolutely insane. I am not sure if I will ever be able to completely get use to that! But praise God we made it...there were definitely a few close calls!
I won't bore you with too many logistical details, but I began volunteering Tuesday. After discussing with the project managers, it was decided the best fit for me was going to be at Kikuyu Hospital. So slightly different than what I was anticipating, but I trusted their judgement and was just excited to be able to start so soon. I got to meet with the Matron of the hospital, which is essentially the Director of Kenya. She was extremely helpful and wonderful to talk to. (I even found out how I can become a nurse in Kenya after getting my license in the U.S.!)
I was taken to the male ward (they split their wards male and female), and I was given a quick tour. Now this hospital is fairly large and has a lot of resources (at least for those able to pay). All of the different departments are in separate one story buildings, so when you need to transfer a patient to a different area you simply just wheel the bed outside on the sidewalk and take them somewhere else! I have just been like a sponge taking everything in. I know anything I attempt to write at the moment will not come even close to the real experience, but I will try a paint somewhat of a picture.
There are 34 beds in the male ward...4 beds to a room. 2 of the beds are private. Aside from the private rooms, there are no bathrooms in the rooms. There are about 3-4 licensed nurses and 4-5 nursing students who do everything. Some of them were just in their second year of schooling, but they were very much competent at the tasks they were doing. The patients do not have call lights, so they basically just lay in bed until someone comes to them. I was amazed that I did not hear patients calling out, nor have I ever heard a patient ask for pain medication.
In terms of supplies and resources, they really just try and do the best with what they have. I was pleasantly surprised to find they had a good supply of gloves and seemed to use them at the appropriate times. On the other hand, today they had no clean bed sheets, so as we made the beds, we simply shook off the sheet on their bed and put it right back on. They also have no towels, so when we were giving a patient a bed bath, I just had to use a hospital gown to dry him off. They do have the ability to take xrays, ultrasounds, and CT scans. They have a small laboratory and send out anything they cannot do themselves.
One of the things that has really impacted me is some of the diagnoses of the patients on the floor. One man I helped to bathe today suffers from polio. The nurse asked me if I care for many polio patients, and I just shook my head...thinking to myself how polio has almost been eradicated around the world, thanks to vaccination. Another man has TB and HIV. Now in the States we probably would place this patient in an isolation room and be extra cautious in everything we did. But here....he was just in a room with other patients and the only different as care providers was that we wore masks along with our gloves when caring for him. He has an awful septic wound on his abdomen and it is so deep you can see his organs. I got to assist with changing the dressing. It was sad to me that they didn't have the nice sterile stuff with silver and other minerals that aid in wound healing. They just had some gauze pads and then we wrapped a roller bandage around that. I was also informed that he always needed a sputum cup near his bedside. I noted his teeth were an orange-ish color, which I remembered is a side-effect of a common TB medication. It almost doesn't seem real caring for patients with diseases that up until now, I really have only read about.
Thank you for all of your prayers. I am doing well and so happy to be here.
I won't bore you with too many logistical details, but I began volunteering Tuesday. After discussing with the project managers, it was decided the best fit for me was going to be at Kikuyu Hospital. So slightly different than what I was anticipating, but I trusted their judgement and was just excited to be able to start so soon. I got to meet with the Matron of the hospital, which is essentially the Director of Kenya. She was extremely helpful and wonderful to talk to. (I even found out how I can become a nurse in Kenya after getting my license in the U.S.!)
I was taken to the male ward (they split their wards male and female), and I was given a quick tour. Now this hospital is fairly large and has a lot of resources (at least for those able to pay). All of the different departments are in separate one story buildings, so when you need to transfer a patient to a different area you simply just wheel the bed outside on the sidewalk and take them somewhere else! I have just been like a sponge taking everything in. I know anything I attempt to write at the moment will not come even close to the real experience, but I will try a paint somewhat of a picture.
There are 34 beds in the male ward...4 beds to a room. 2 of the beds are private. Aside from the private rooms, there are no bathrooms in the rooms. There are about 3-4 licensed nurses and 4-5 nursing students who do everything. Some of them were just in their second year of schooling, but they were very much competent at the tasks they were doing. The patients do not have call lights, so they basically just lay in bed until someone comes to them. I was amazed that I did not hear patients calling out, nor have I ever heard a patient ask for pain medication.
In terms of supplies and resources, they really just try and do the best with what they have. I was pleasantly surprised to find they had a good supply of gloves and seemed to use them at the appropriate times. On the other hand, today they had no clean bed sheets, so as we made the beds, we simply shook off the sheet on their bed and put it right back on. They also have no towels, so when we were giving a patient a bed bath, I just had to use a hospital gown to dry him off. They do have the ability to take xrays, ultrasounds, and CT scans. They have a small laboratory and send out anything they cannot do themselves.
One of the things that has really impacted me is some of the diagnoses of the patients on the floor. One man I helped to bathe today suffers from polio. The nurse asked me if I care for many polio patients, and I just shook my head...thinking to myself how polio has almost been eradicated around the world, thanks to vaccination. Another man has TB and HIV. Now in the States we probably would place this patient in an isolation room and be extra cautious in everything we did. But here....he was just in a room with other patients and the only different as care providers was that we wore masks along with our gloves when caring for him. He has an awful septic wound on his abdomen and it is so deep you can see his organs. I got to assist with changing the dressing. It was sad to me that they didn't have the nice sterile stuff with silver and other minerals that aid in wound healing. They just had some gauze pads and then we wrapped a roller bandage around that. I was also informed that he always needed a sputum cup near his bedside. I noted his teeth were an orange-ish color, which I remembered is a side-effect of a common TB medication. It almost doesn't seem real caring for patients with diseases that up until now, I really have only read about.
Thank you for all of your prayers. I am doing well and so happy to be here.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Seasons
Tomorrow is my last day of my job at summer camp. As to be expected, this ending is bittersweet. I will not miss the long hours on my feet, losing my voice by days end, dragging kids to thinking corner, or constantly playing referee among feisty first graders. However, I will miss the times when a child would come up to me and say "Miss Alyssa, you look beautiful today." Or when a certain little boy would fall asleep while serving his time in the corner. I will miss the dozens of pictures that were created especially for me, and the moments when I could tell the kids were just absolutely delighted, full of smiles and innocent laughter. [The moment that immediately comes to mind was water day...the kids LOVED chasing and squirting me with water :) ] In Ecclesiastes, it says "to everything there is a season." And I would have to agree. I know it is time for this season to end. Now I must entrust these little ones to the Lord and ask that they grow up to be kind, honest, and hardworking men and women who love the Lord.
In just 2 days, I will be off on my adventure to Kenya. I have been so blessed by my friends and family. Thank you to every one of you who supported my efforts to raise funds to purchase much-needed medical supplies. I will purchase the supplies in country which allows me to not only support the local economy, but also to really obtain the items that the organization really needs as I see it firsthand. Thank you to all of my friends who have sent me letters, packages, and other forms of encouragement. You are such a blessing in my life.
The road to get to this point in time has not been easy. There have been some bumps and potholes along the way. Even yesterday it seems I strained my calf muscle, and in the process of me trying to ice it, I ended up causing freezer burn on my leg. Ha Ha. But I am doing well. Just a minor setback. Only now can I see the road that has led up to this trip really has taught me so much about myself, about God, and really how to really appreciate all that is good in my life. Without some hard times, it is easy to take the good ones for granted.
Today a co-worker asked me if I was scared to go. And I said no. And that was the honest answer. The way I see it....we have NO idea how many days we get in this life. All of our days are numbered. And as much as we try to protect ourselves from danger and suffering, ultimately it is God who dictates our lives. And if my last day is spent in a country that I dearly love doing what my heart is passionate about...then I can't think of a better way to leave this Earth. However, : ) please do pray for safety, for health, for protection, and for God's abundant love and mercy to radiate from my entire being.
Stay tuned...next post will be from Kenya!
Monday, August 1, 2011
Preparation
In 12 days, I will leave for Kenya. It will take me approximately 25 hours to travel from Fresno to Nairobi, and the time difference is 10 hours. I will spend 4 weeks (28 days) volunteering with African Impact on their projects related to medicine & health. I am so excited. I am ready to go forth on the adventure God has set out before me. I know it will not always be easy. In fact, I expect there to be times when I am completely broken by the things I see. Yet where there is pain and suffering, there is opportunity for healing, for God to come in and restore hearts and lives.
I will be the first person to tell you that you don't have to travel half-way around the world to find brokenness. I see it every day I go to work. I see it in the hospitals where I do practicum. I see it in myself. Yet God has called all of us to bring forth light and hope in different places. His still, soft voice has called me back to Kenya. For 4 weeks, I will serve with my hands and feet, offering nothing more than a physical presence that I beg the Lord to speak and shine through.
God does not call the equipped, but he equips those He calls.
Lord prepare my heart. Draw me close to you. Here I am, my hands, my feet, my ears, my eyes, my mouth..it's yours Father. Use it to bless your people. May I bring forth love and hope that comes only from you.
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