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.

Reflection

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.

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.