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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

Dirty Feet

Yesterday during circle time, I was teaching my first grade class about Jesus and the 12 Disciples. The book I was reading mentioned that one way that Jesus showed His love to his disciples (& his closest friends) was to wash their feet. Now, growing up in the "Christian circle," foot washing is familiar to me, thanks to multiple sermons on serving others, readings of the New Testament, and even a time on a missions trip where we were instructed to wash the feet of another. Yet, as I shared the story of Jesus' washing His disciples feet to my five and six year olds, I realized they had no idea of the significance. So I got a bit preachy and tried explaining how during Jesus' time, people wore sandals, walked long distances, and lived in an environment similar to a dusty desert. Although it was a nice history lesson for myself, the point I was trying to get across had yet to read the kids. I moved on to Plan B.

"Okay. This is what it would be like today. You know when your parents come home from work and they are really tired? They have had a long day and worked really hard, and at that moment they would just love a back massage."

BINGO! Their eyes lit up. "Or a bubble bath!" one girl shouted out. "In a big bathtub with jets!" another exclaimed. "A jacuzzi!" "With an ice cream sundae!" Now we were making progress...

I share this for 2 reasons. First, I just love children and the way their minds work. I love that they really do remember pretty much word for word what you say to them [this is also something I sometimes dislike]. Their hearts are so malleable, their minds so open to new ideas and hungry for knowledge. Every day I laugh and smile a lot, and want to take every single child into my arms and hold them tight, while simultaneously pulling my hair out. Second, there's a lot to be learned from the way Jesus served His disciples by washing their feet.

Living in America, we cling to our rights and celebrate freedom. From a young age, we began to exhibit our ability to say "yes" and more frequently, to proclaim "no." Although I cannot speak for an entire country, with such freedom comes an inherited sense of entitlement and expectation. We hold positions, we have titles, we earn degrees, we occupy a specific space, and we are hesitant to relinquishment any of it. Yet Jesus, the King of Kings, the Son of God, the Prince of Peace, washed dirty feet. And he didn't do it because he had to. He had no agenda to keep, no resume to build, no community service hours to complete. He loved those guys. In fact, he gave His life for those guys. Even the one who would betray Him. He washed the feet of the man partially responsible for His physical death. Amazing.

In three weeks, I go to Kenya. After five years of yearning and seeking, I will return to a place that holds a large portion of my heart. I expect the unexpected. I'm prepared to be unprepared. I know not what lies before me; I only know that the same Christ who washed his friends feet resides within me and has gone before me. I just pray and ask that my entire being will be used to love people and to bring God glory....my hands, my mind, my voice, my eyes and ears, my heart and soul, and my feet.

Jesus knew the feet he was washing would travel to many nations to tell of the good news. Lord, I pray these words over my time spent in Kenya:

1. Take my hands and let them move
   At the impulse of Thy love.
   Take my feet and let them be
   Swift and beautiful for Thee.
2. Take my voice and let me sing,
   Always, only for my King.
   Take my lips and let them be
   Filled with messages from Thee.

Shooting Stars

Did you know that when we gaze up at the night sky we only see approximately .005% of the total area of the sky?? That's pretty incredible.

Last week, I had the privilege of spending a week up at Lake Tahoe. I savored each and every moment, and constantly marveled at the beauty of God's creation. My friend Janie mentioned she had never seen a shooting star, something I just found to be unacceptable and I prayed that she would get to see one at some point during the week. One night, Janie, myself, and her friend Hunter canoed out towards the center of the lake so we could watch the stars. It was absolutely breath-taking to be lying flat in a canoe, gazing up at the vast night sky just sprinkled with stars. Stars, stars, and more stars. Beautiful.

So the mission to see a shooting star begins. I was hoping we could see one. And if we were lucky, perhaps we could all see the same one. I tried to prepare myself to really be patient and to not get discouraged if I didn't see one. I was prepared to stare into the sky for a fair amount of time. Well, it had been maybe a total of five minutes and then...a flash of light shooting through the sky. Big and bright enough to cause the three of us to cheer and attempt to contain our excitement. Magical. But that was only the beginning...in the matter of the next thirty minutes...between the three of us, we easily spotted another dozen.

I mentioned all of this star stuff because it really parallels some life lessons God has been teaching me. In my stargazing experience (which is not extensive by any means, but something I do really enjoy), most nights are just not ideal for seeing shooting stars. Growing up in a city with some of the worst air quality in the country doesn't really help, nor does living in a very cloudy and rainy city. But there are those few nights...the ones where you are away from the city, up at a higher elevation, when there's not a cloud in the sky- and presto...a beautiful canvas of the galaxy. Even still, to catch that mere glimpse of the shooting star, you must be patient. You must be content to stare up at hundreds and hundreds of white shimmering specks and just hope you are looking in the right place at the right time. Perhaps that's why seeing a shooting star is so memorable, so special and magical and breath-taking.

A friend shared a devotion with me recently entitled "Wisdom in Waiting." It talked about how inpatient we, as humans, are in waiting for the Lord to speak into our lives, specifically regarding decision-making. We may pray a time or two (if even that) asking God to lead and guide us, yet when we don't hear an answer or sense God's presence, we get frustrated. Or we decide that means God is leaving it up to us. Yet do we consider that this apparent no answer from God might mean be patient? To keep waiting? To "be still and know that I am God"?

I like to know things. I fear the unknown. I want to hear God speak. I struggle to be still. But do I really want to give up on God and settle for a cloudy, mediocre view? Or do I have the patience and the discipline to wait for clear sky and the shooting star? Aka God's still, soft voice. In the seasons of life full of storms and trials, will I have faith and hold on for the clouds to roll back? Can I trust that I will be able to see that shooting star? Will I find peace in the unknown, in the mysteries and beauty and majesty that is our Heavenly Father?

Yes. Because I have seen, heard, and experienced the Lord's faithfulness in my life. I have seen shooting stars.