Body & Soul

I have avoided blogging up until this point because I was afraid the things I had to say would be too sad. However, I now realize if I wait until I am not heart-broken any longer, I may never write again.

After 10 days back in the States, in some ways life has completely gone "back to normal." I drive my car to get places. I have dozens of clothing choices, in fact I have so many clothes that they barely fit in my closet. I have moved into my Seattle apartment, and spent the past several days cleaning, cooking, and running errands. School resumes on Monday, so my relaxed days of my own agenda are quickly coming to an end. Soon my schedule will be dictated by my class syllabus; my nights filled with textbooks, notecards, and coffee.

In other ways, my physical body is here, but my soul is in Kenya. I made a slideshow of my favorite Kenya pictures, and I watch it every chance I get. I have been making greeting cards, as it is my new effort to raise funds for the slum clinic. I wonder how the people I met are doing. I think about the kids, the moms, the nurses, the doctors, the teachers, the drivers, and my fellow volunteers. I wonder how life can so quickly move on and I desperately cling to the hope that I won't lose the ability to feel connected to Kenya, even if it is painful. I guess I don't know why I am here. I mean, logically and rationally, yes I know. I have to finish school. I need to get a real job. My "life" is here. I guess I am just supposed to accept that and be okay with it.

I feel like I am mourning the loss of a part of me...a part of me that I cannot seem to fully find and embrace here. Maybe it will come...maybe it just got a bit delayed and has to catch a later flight. But what is that part of me decides to reside in Kenya just waiting for me to come back. And I don't know when I can go back. I just have to tell myself it is going to be soon, because that is the only answer I can live with right now.

In the meantime, I just beg God to give me peace and the strength to get up in the morning. I pray for even a small glimpse as to why I am suppose to be here right now.

Stolen Heart

I don't think you can ever really prepare yourself for a goodbye. I haven't let myself cry since I have been here but the tears are currently welling up in my eyes as the end of my time in Kenya is here. The only thing that makes it okay is that Lord willing I will be back. Hopefully soon. Kenya stole my heart.

I am happy to report that all donations were hand delivered to the slum clinic on Saturday. They were so gracious and grateful, and it was a joy and privilege to get to be the messenger. One day I will go back there, but in the meantime, I will keep in touch with all the wonderful people who work there.

I will come home the same physical body, but my soul, my mind, my heart have all been changed. I fear it will be all too easy to transition back into my comfortable life in the US, where the biggest stress of the day is studying for a nursing test or getting stuck in traffic. I can only hope that I can find meaning in both worlds. In a lot of ways, life seems more real here in Kenya. You cannot shy away from suffering, from sickness, from death. Based on circumstances, new life, a plentiful harvest, another day to live are all things to be celebrated.

Kenya...thank you. From the bottom of my heart. To all the wonderful, gracious people I have met over the past month, it has been a pleasure. I wish I could stay longer. I wish I had the ability and the resources to ease your burdens. Thank you for taking me in like a member of your family. Thank you for your willingness to teach and to share part of your lives. I'll be back. It's not goodbye. I'll see you soon.

Blessings

Normally I don't blog two days in a row, but today was quite meaningful and really had an impact on me. Today was the first time I spent a significant amount of time in the slums. I wouldn't say I was surprised necessarily by anything I saw; to some extent I expected the trash covering the street, the plethora of smells, the haphazardness of the makeshift buildings. Rather, I think I was taken aback by how "normal" the people were. If I had seen most of them anywhere other than the slum, I probably would have never guessed where they resided. We went to a school....a very tiny place for around 60 students, ages 2-10 I would say. The teachers were absolutely lovely. Like the workers at the health clinic, I have the upmost respect for the work they do. The kids are supposed to pay a small fee for their schooling, but many are unable to do so, causing the teachers to receive minimal salary. Yet these woman absolutely LOVE what they do...it was so apparent, even in just the several hours we spent with them.

And the children. Where to begin. They were so well-mannered, full of laughter and joy. The older ones naturally kept an eye on the younger ones. They took turns playing games. They were just so happy to play a simple game in a circle or run a relay or just hold hands with one of us. I immediately fell in love with a little girl, who I would guess to be about 2. She did not say a single word to me, but that did not stop me from talking to her. She was just completely content holding my hand or being held in my arms. I couldn't get her to tell me her name, so I asked one of the teachers and she told me her name was "Blessings." I thought that was quite fitting. Now I am sure I could have fallen for any one of those precious kids....but I think this little girl was just another way that God is reminding me of his faithfulness and all of the "blessings" that he has given to me.

I may be physically leaving Kenya in three days, but my heart has been completely taken and broken for these beautiful people.

Reluctant Goodbyes

I can hardly believe this adventure is almost over. In four days, I will be boarding an airplane and begin my journey back to California. I fear that once I arrive home, my previous life will resume quickly and easily, despite my attempts to keep that from happening. I always dread the transition period of returning to the culture and the life in which I was born and raised. Don't get me wrong- I will be very happy to see my family and friends, and to have the opportunity to tell them of all I have experienced over the past month. However, it is hard to know you are leaving behind a country so in need with so many people suffering. I hate that I have such a comfortable life to return to, and that as much as I might like to think I have sacrificed, I quickly am convicted that no matter what conditions I have seen here in Kenya, I still have one thing that so many people don't: security. Lots to think about.

So today was my last day at the hospital. I have to say that it was a pretty darn good day, as far as last days are concerned. It began with most of the typical tasks that nurses in Kenya do....bed making, dusting, 10 am observations. Things got a bit exciting when I realized one of the mothers in the labor area was in labor, and what appeared to be quite close to a delivery. Sure enough, the head nurse came over to check to see how dilated she was, and in the process of gathering the supplies, I looked and could see the baby's head starting to come out! So I got the privilege of being present for another birth- this one occurred quite quickly and it was so amazing to be able to assist delivering a baby! As soon as the baby came out, the nurse handed the baby boy to me and I took him to the nursery and welcomed him into the world. Let me just say, the second time was just as good as the first. And it was really the perfect ending to my time spent on the maternity ward.

And then it was time for goodbye....as I was taking vital signs in the afternoon, I began the process of saying goodbye to some of the patients that I had grown close to. The women are so amazing....one lady who has been there for 2 weeks wanted to add me on Facebook so she could tell me when she had her baby...and right then and there we scrolled through a lot of "Alyssa Singh's" on her cell phone until we found me. Another mom told me that she thought maybe I should get a boyfriend so that "Kenya could be my home forever." She even offered up her brother. I said goodbye to the nurses and a couple of the medical students. I had written them a short thank you note and had bought 1 oz bottles of hand sanitizer as a small gift, as they have been so mesmerized by mine. They were so grateful. My final goodbye was to the security guard, Josephine. We took a picture and she told me if she ever gets a Visa from the Embassy, she will come and visit. Bless her heart.

I have been holding back tears most of the afternoon. The thought of leaving Kenya is starting to sink in and really breaking my heart. I think the thing that makes it okay is that I know when I do come back next time I will be more equipped and more able to help people and learn more. I just have to hold on that this isn't goodbye, just a see you later....maybe even a see you soon. Only God knows that.

Slum Clinic & Tea Fields

It has been a wonderful weekend here in Kenya. Currently, it is pouring rain and the sound of the rain on the roof is one of my favorite sounds. Today my friend Elena and I decided to take a day off (weekend volunteering is optional) and take a walk to the tea fields. We had been told by previous volunteers that "there is this place where you can go have lunch and a tour and buy tea." We had attempted to get directions, but as we left mid-morning, we had very little concrete information to go off of. So we walked through the tea fields near where we are staying, took pictures, and figured we would just ask for more specific directions along the way. Well, everyone we attempted to talk to either seemed to have no idea about this place we were asking about, or they were convinced we actually wanted to go to this waterfall picnic area. So after a long walk following wrong directions, we finally came across a security guard at a school who knew what we were talking about and pointed us in the right direction. I was very happy when we finally saw the sign for Kiambethu Tea Farm.

It is a lovely place. The tea farm has been owned by the same family for four generations, a white couple that have lived in Kenya their whole lives, Fiona & Marcus. We were treated like royalty...served a cup of tea in the main house and given some information about how tea is grown and manufactured, and a bit of family history. Then we had a little tour of the surrounding forest and tea fields by this Kenyan gentleman who was quite funny. This was followed by drinks on the veranda and then a scrumptious lunch at a table set for 2 on the main lawn (there were other visitors there as well, but we had a separate table)...so much delicious food: soup, bread rolls, beef, potatoes, vegetables, green salad, fruit salad, cheese & crackers, homemade ice cream, and souffle. Such good food and a beautiful place to enjoy it. We purchased some of the tea that they grow, and signed the guestbook. As we walked outside to head back, we could hear a storm brewing, and Marcus graciously offered to drive us home.

Yesterday, I got to go back to the slum clinic, which I was completely stoked about. When I arrived, a woman had just given birth and although the baby was fine, it has been a struggle to get the baby out. The mom was still bleeding significantly and had multiple tears that really needed serious repair. The electricity was out, so the nurse had me hold a flashlight so she could see where to stitch. I handed her supplies as she attempted to stop the bleeding with cotton and stitches. I asked this nurse if she had ever been taught how to do this type of work, and she just smiled and said, I just have had to teach myself. And that really sums up how these dedicated nurses are. They just go above and beyond the call of duty...doing everything from delivering babies to immunizing children to treating malaria, measles, HIV/AIDs, to cleaning the place to counseling. I am just so inspired and amazed by the work they do. They work often for 24 hour shifts or longer, and most of them have a second job in order to bring in enough income (as the clinic is so underfunded that they essentially are volunteering there time). After spending awhile assisting the nurse, I spent an hour talking to the director of the clinic. This was a very beneficial conversation as I learned about how the clinic came to be, their mission, how they manage to fund themselves, their policy for treating everyone regardless of ability to pay, and their hopes for the future.

I was happy to tell him, Peter is his name, about the generous donations I have received from family, friends, and classmates in the States. The most pressing supply needs are gloves and cotton wool. He also said they have limited supplies of some vital medications. So next week, I will bring the donation and it will be put into an account from which they buy supplies. We discussed how it is better for them to buy things on an as needed basis, as if they get too many items in stock they may expire or be a target for theft. He mentioned that 2 things they would LOVE to eventually have were a wheelchair and a stretcher. I can assure you that this clinic is very worthwhile and a respected place in the area. The work they are doing is vital to improving the quality of life for the people living in the slums. At multiple points in the conversation I was holding back tears, because it really is something so near to my heart.

Logistically I don't know how this will work out, but I want to move to Kenya and work in that clinic. And I want to raise more funds. So my mind is already spinning with passion and ideas and new projects I probably don't have time for, but I can assure you this will NOT be the last time you will hear about the slum clinic.

Thank you to EVERYONE who donated money. I am so honored to be able to share it with such a deserving project. I pray God will continue to bless you all for your generosity.

Bathrooms, Babies, & Bumpy Roads

Bathrooms: On Wednesday, while all the rest of the volunteers decided to observe the Muslim holiday celebrating the end of Ramadan by skipping project, Elena and I went to Hope School to build a bathroom. Yes, we assisted in the reconstruction of the bathrooms at the school. Our primary task was to saw pieces of wood with this prehistoric looking saw. Needless to say, it took a lot of energy, time, and willpower to saw even one piece of wood. Luckily, some of the African impact staff, Desmond, Richard, and Moses, were there to both supervise and take over when needed. I do have to say that the framing turned out to be structurally strong and well-built, despite the most basic of supplies. I unfortunately made the mistake of mentioning that my grandpa was a carpenter...just because I have used a saw before in my life does not by any means qualify me as a professional builder. We had a lot of laughs and an enjoyable time. It is exciting to think that the kids will have a new bathroom to use when school begins for the first time on Monday.

Babies: Since beginning my time volunteering on the maternity ward, I have been praying that someone will give birth during my time there. I have come close multiple times...but yesterday was my lucky day. Mid-morning, I heard a woman screaming about every five minutes. Of course, I do not enjoy hearing anyone in pain, but I realized this meant she most likely was well on her way to being fully dilated. Awhile later I asked one of the nurses when she thought the baby would be born, and she assured me it would be within the hour. I could barely contain my excitement. Luckily, I was busy, as the ward was completely full and there had already been 2 C-sections that morning. And then the time came. I will spare you the graphic details (although I forced some of the volunteers to visit to them last night at dinner), but it was completely amazing to watch. Bloody, yes. And nothing sophisticated about it. But a new life, a new baby entered the world. The mother was a champion in my mind, no painkillers and a 3.8 kg baby (that is a big baby by Kenyan standards). After watching the events that occur after the birth, I got to go see the baby in the nursery, hold it, and a short time after, bring the baby back to the morning. I definitely will not forget that experience.

Bumpy Roads: This morning, as we awaited our ride to project, we were greeted, and a bit startled by a rather large vehicle. The best way I can describe it is a garbage dump truck with certain elements of a bulldozer that is equipped in the back with 20 seats and 2 tables. I recognize the image in your head right now might seem a little odd...you are on the right track if this is the case. We had a laugh about it...then realized it would be our form of transportation for the day. Well, it was quite the ride. Possibly better than Indiana Jones. At one point, Alexia got whacked with a huge tree branch as we had rolled up the plastic windows...that gives you some idea as to how high up we were...tree-branch level. So in addition to our whiteness, we were parading around Kenyan villages in this massive thing...causing much attention and excessive waving and screaming by kids and adults alike. It was fun for about 5 minutes...then I was just wishing that I could be invisible for awhile...instead of being looked at like a celebrity, or a circus show. There were a few moments when I felt like the entire vehicle was going to tip over and one time flew out of my seat and smacked into the one in front of me. The day ended with a rendition of all the patriotic American songs (after driving by the U.S. Embassy) Alexia and I could think of....sang especially loud for the Canadians with us. Another great day in Kenya.