Extreme Home Makeover, Kenya Edition...Kenya Week 4: October 25-October 31

I once imagined poverty as the lack of necessary resources like a decent home, enough food, or good clothing. While this image of poverty rings true, a deeper reality of poverty exists: a poverty that affects not only your physical wellbeing, but also your emotional, mental, and social wellbeing. An abject poverty that prevents an individual from truly living. I recently encountered such a poverty...

Mary became a widow only one week after the birth of her second son. Left alone in the world with two baby boys, one mentally handicapped and one epileptic, she had almost no resources and few options.

Fast forward 16 years...

Mary and her sons Michael and Gaston now live in a mud hut with a thatch roof on a small piece of land graciosly given to them by a young fisherman. When it rains, water pours into the house through the large holes in thachting. Their clothes are literally threadbare, all three suffer from malnutrition and they rely on the generosity of well wishers for food and water. Gaston does is best to gather food, water and firewood, but his occasional seizures are a huge threat to his safety in their exposed environment. Michael’s mental disability prevents him from helping at all. Neither Michael nor Gaston attended school because of their illnesses and they have little to no social interaction with other people.

If this suffering weren’t enough, all three are now seriously infected with Jiggers. These flea-like bugs live in the soil and borrow into your skin. Once nestled in, they hatch their eggs which spread to surrounding tissue and continue to multiply. Jiggers are a common problem in rural, poor Kenyan communities. But the intensity of the itching of even one tiny jigger impels a healthy person to remove the jigger as soon as possible. But because of their already weak and vulnerable state, Mary and the boys struggled to keep the jiggers at bay and they quickly spread out of control. Mary can’t sleep at night because of the itching and Michael’s feet are so extremely covered by the bugs he can no longer walk.

I heard about “The Jiggers Family” my first week in Karungu. Irene, a Community Health Worker for the Maternal and Child Health Clinic happened to find the family while searching for pregnant mothers in the hills surrounding the hospital. When I heard the story, it struck a cord in my heart and I continued to ask about the family and their situation. Irene invited me to come with her to meet the family and I jumped at the opportunity. I knew something had to be done for them and I thought perhaps I could help.


The moment I met Mary, Michael, and Gaston, something in me knew this is why I had come to Karungu. They are the widow, the orphan, the poor, the hungry, and the sick that Christ talks about in the Gospels. How could I leave them in their abject poverty and go to sleep at night calling myself a Christian? Their neighbors can only do so much as they struggle within their own poverty. But I have all the resources necessary at my disposal and now a burning desire to act.

And so began the Extreme Home Makeover Kenya Edition plan. With the help of Irene, the nurses at the MCH, and Father Mario, we developed a two part program to get “The Jiggers Family” back on their feet (literally!).

1. We'll build them a brand new home: An iron-sheet roof will keep out the rain. A cemented floor and walls will keep out any possible jiggers in the soil.

2. We’ll bring them to the hospital to remove the jiggers and provide much needed medication, nourishment, rest, and love.

I made a few phone calls and quickly received an incredibly generous donation from a dearly loved one back home (Thank You!!!). With funding for the new home, Father Mario agreed to wave any hospital fees.

Feeling a bit like Ty Pennington from Extreme Home Makeover, we began coordinating construction of their new home last week. Irene (the Community Health Worker) has been working tirelessly to coordinate between me, John and Father Mario to keep construction going. Within a few days, the frame was complete and John the Builder was ready to nail down the roof.

On Tuesday, Duncan drove Irene and I to their home to bring all three to St. Camillus. Brother Stephen admitted them to the hospital and the amazing nurses Frank and Catherine helped them settle into their beds. As you can see, many many people have gone out of their way to help this family and I feel so blessed to be a part of it!

On Wednesday, Frank began the process of meticulously removing each and every jigger. Hospital staff, other patients, and visitors come to see us slowly work on our new patients. Although jiggers are relatively common in Kenya, such severe cases are rare. Some on lookers ask questions, some provide words of comfort or encouragement. Many just stare.

Words can’t describe and pictures can’t capture the extent of this slow, painful process. After soaking in a mixture of antiseptic and hydrogen peroxide for half an hour, the skin covering each jigger must be cut away and the little bug pulled out with forceps. Because they have been infected for so long, much of the skin surrounding the jiggers grew thick and calloused before dying. So the largest jiggers under the necrotic tissue grew to the size of a pencil eraser and became filled with tiny white eggs. Pus of all colors, blood, and eggs ooze out with each cut of the blade. After removing the jigger, a small open pit remains where the jigger had burrowed deep into the skin and tissue. But little by little, their hands and feet are freed of the bugs and begin to heal.

Multiple people have removed jiggers for countless hours over the past three days and still some remain. But Mary, Michael and Gaston silently suffer as we attempt to rid them of this horrible affliction. They are becoming more animated and cheerful, especially Gaston. He can’t read or even count to ten, but he constantly smiles and jokes with me whenever I come to visit them.

We hope to finish removing the jiggers soon and give them a few more days in the hospital to heal. Before returning to their new home, we will buy them new clothes, beds, food, and anything else they need as they begin their new life. They have a long, difficult road ahead of them. But with new friends, a new home, jigger-free hands and feet, full bellies, and a renewed sense of hope, I pray they are ready to continue on their journey.

Babies in Abundance...Kenya Week 3

Any visitor to Karungu will quickly notices the incredible number of children running through the streets, walking home from school, carrying water on their head, or herding cows, donkeys and goats through the streets. Any visitor to St. Camillus Mission Hospital will quickly notice the unbelievable number of children in the pediatric ward suffering from malaria, anemia, horrible burns or any number of childhood diseases. Don’t forget the newborns in the Maternity Ward blessed enough to be born in the hospital as opposed to the mud huts on their homestead. Likewise, an endless number of children shuffle through the Maternal and Child Health Clinic each week for vaccinations and weighing.

This week I witnessed everything from the tragic and unnecessary death of an infant to the miraculous birth of beautiful newborn and nearly everything in between. It began at lunch on Tuesday, when we heard about two more babies admitted to the pediatric ward with horrible burns. They were placed in the unofficial burn section of the pediatric ward next to the three babies that have already been there over a month, two of which have endured brutal amputations to save their lives. I went to visit the pediatric ward in the afternoon to find the nurses gathered together with somber looks shadowing their usually joyful smiles. They pointed to Bed 1 and told me one of the burned babies had passed away moments before. I watched the mother stoically wrap the small child in a blanket, cover his head and carry him out of the ward towards the morgue. Never before had I seen a dead child with my own eyes. There are some things you simply can’t prepare yourself for.

Thankfully Thursday morning offered me a slightly more hopeful outlook for the perilously young of Karungu. Every few months HIV Positive mothers bring their exposed children to the clinic to make sure the children haven’t become infected with the virus. So this Thursday morning consisted of 34 mothers holding their 34 crying babies as Irene and Helen pricked their tiny fingers and dripped their blood onto filter paper. Despite the risks, most of these babies are negative and I thank God the mothers are doing their best to make sure their children stay protected. And once again I thank God for St. Camillus and the priceless services it provides to the community.

The week of babies concluded Friday morning with a double whammy. First, I went on Rounds in the Pediatric Ward with Dr. Jimmy, Dr. David, and Medical School student Tony. Rounds consist of visiting each patient, checking their progress and deciding the next course of action. The lucky kids are patted on the back and told they’re ready to be discharged. The less lucky kids get comforting smiles and continue with their Malaria medication, antibiotics, fluids intake, etc. The unlucky ones get concerned looks between the doctors and lengthy discussions about what to do next.
After two and a half hours, twenty something sick kids, and a mix of heartbreaks and smiles, I was ready to head back to the Maternal and Child Health Clinic. I decided to stop by the Theater (the Operating Room in American English) to say hello to the nurses. As good (or bad) timing would have it, nurse Christy rolled a pregnant woman into the Theater for an emergency C-section. With a low fetal heart beat they decided to get the baby out before it was too late. I asked the doctors if I could stay to watch and they happily agreed. After helping the nurses set up then eagerly/anxiously watching the incredible procedure, I was blessed to witness my first birth. Despite all expectations of the nurses and doctors, the baby boy came out kicking and screaming. The tension in the operating room quickly transformed into a huge sigh of relief as the healthy baby took in its first lung full of air. I couldn’t stop the tears welling up in my eyes and allowed myself to fully appreciate the beauty of the moment. I find it hard to comprehend that the miracle of birth happens thousands of times every single day.

With the entire world stacked against them, it’s truly a miracle to see any baby survive to the age of five unscathed by the harsh realties of poverty. Sadly not all make it through. In my small way, I think I’m helping. By making sure babies get their vaccines on time or weigh enough according to their age, maybe I can help just one baby avoid a fatal disease or waste away from malnutrition. In the meantime, holding three year old John in my lap during Mass and spinning Reagan through the air as he squeals with joy reminds me that I’m not here to save the world. I’m here to love those around me with all my being and praise God for the incredible blessings He has lavished upon me.

This is Real Life...Kenya Week 2

I honestly believe I’ve seen, experienced, and learned more in the past two weeks than any other period of my life. Kenya is the real life version of the classes I’ve taken, the books I’ve read, and the prayers I’ve prayed. I’m seeing the devastation behind the data of HIV and AIDS I wrote about in essays. I’m administering the vaccinations and handing out the tuberculosis drugs I read about in medical and public health textbooks. I’m recording the very same monitoring and evaluation statistics I learned about in class. I’m holding in my arms the malnourished babies I saw on American television. I’m witnessing the power and immediacy of the prayer, “give us this day our daily bread” that I prayed a thousand times before. And I’m seeing the Beatitudes come alive every day in those that come to the clinics, the nurses, and all the Kenyans I meet.

This is no longer academic, artificial, or distant. This is Real Life.

Sunday morning I was blessed to attend my first Mass at St. Camillus Mission Hospital. Hundreds of kids, men, and women packed into the lobby between the Maternity Ward and the Surgical Ward for a beautiful celebration of the Eucharist. Complete with women singing, men drumming, and girls from Dala Kiye (the Orphanage next door) dancing in the aisles, I didn’t want Mass to end. Fr. Julius gave a powerful homily about the Gospel, which was about the rich man who went away sad when Jesus told him to sell all he owned and give the money away to the poor. In the context of the poverty surrounding us, this Gospel takes on a completely different meaning. I thank God for the opportunity to pray and grow in my faith in a completely different way.

In the afternoon Jimmy, Amanda and I visited Sori, the “town” 3 kilometers down the road. “Professor” Emma, the hilarious woman that cleans the MCH Clinic, invited us over to her house to show us “real Kenyan life”. She bought us sodas (a sacrifice for her and her family) and we sat in her tiny home discussing the various struggles and obstacles faced by Kenyans every single day. Just to mention a few: no running water which means fetching water from the lake every morning. No electricity or gas which means cooking all your food on a charcoal “giko” or a fire outside if you can’t afford the charcoal. No good paying jobs which means eating ugali and sukuma wiki every single day, if you can even afford that. No real “free” education which often means deciding between feeding your children and sending them to school. Needless to say, this is poverty at its worst. After an insightful and sobering discussion, Emma took us to the market to help us buy a few more odds and ends we need/want for our apartment. Sori’s market is the place to see and be seen on Sunday afternoons and another great “Kenyan” experience.

My work week was poignantly marked by one heartbreak after another. Irene, Helen, and Mary in the clinic constantly chuckle and shake their heads at me as I’m appalled by the stories we hear and suffering we see. They’ve seen this all their life. They know these realities. They cope by telling me calmly, “Well, this is Africa”. Meanwhile, I weep inside that children are born with HIV just because this is Africa. That mothers can’t afford to deliver their babies in a hospital just because this is Africa. That nurses draw blood of known HIV patients without gloves just because this is Africa. That orphaned children work to survive as maids, nannies, and farm hands instead of going to school just because this is Africa. I know this is real life. But we don’t have to resign ourselves to this suffering just because this is Africa.

To end on a slightly more positive note: With most of the horrible stories come heroic, compassionate, and loving action on behalf of the nurses, doctors, public health officials, and community members. I’ve seen people go above and beyond every single day to help this orphan, that pregnant mother, this sick old man. I’m honored and humbled to work with these incredible people. I pray that I can continue to learn from them and to serve with the same sacrificial love.

So Much To Tell...Kenya Week 1

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. In the case of Africa, no picture can capture what I’ve seen and experienced in just one week. And no words can describe the beauty, joy, suffering and pain any picture would attempt to capture. But nonetheless, I’ll do my best to share the Kenya I have experienced in the past 7 days:

Doctor Jimmy, Nurse Amanda, and I landed in Nairobi Saturday evening. After passing through customs and gathering all our luggage, we found Boniface, the tall skinny, Kenyan driver for St. Camillus. He eagerly greeted us with a hug and huge “Karibu!!” (“Welcome” in Kiswahili). We spent the night under our mosquito nets at the St. Camillus Seminary in Karen, the wealthier, safer area of Nairobi.

After Mass Sunday morning, we began the 8 hour journey to Karungu. Like I said, no pictures or words can describe the beautiful landscape and people of the Rift Valley. We saw Massai men herding their cattle, women carrying any variety of heavy objects on their heads, and children smiling and waving wildly as the “Mazungus” (White people in Kiswahili) drove by. We stopped in Kisii to buy cell phones and calling cards and were greeted by a huge and desperately needed thunderstorm. We drove the rest of the way to Karungu on unpaved roads through the storm while Boniface joyfully exclaimed that we were bringing Karungu the blessing of rain! The sun set majestically just beyond the cloud line and the perfectly arched rainbow welcomed us to our new home.

Lauren and Christy (the CMMB volunteers that have been here since February) helped Amanda and I move into our apartment when arrived in the darkness of the storm. They are both so excited to have more Americans here and have been incredibly helpful welcoming and orientating us. Dinner in the dining hall (a 3 course Italian/Kenyan cuisine!) was a multi-lingual meet and greet. Father Mario, Angela, and three other short-term volunteers (Andrew, Julia, and Christina) are all from Italy and speak varying degrees of English. Father Julius and Brother Stephen are Kenyan and both speak English quite well. Mix in a bit of Kiswahili and Duluo and you’ve got yourself four languages and 3 overwhelmed and exhausted new American volunteers!!

I spent the week getting a feel for St. Camillus and exploring the surrounding village of Karungu. Here are some highs and lows:

- Amanda and I got “stuck” in our new apartment Monday morning until a merciful neighbor came and unlocked the door for us. No worries now; we’ve figured it out now! You just have to pull hard!

-Started work at the Maternal and Child Health Clinic/Tuberculosis Clinic Tuesday.

- Wednesday afternoon Brother Stephen took Julia, Christina, Amanda, and I to climb Tigra. This huge hill overlooks all of Karungu and provides a perfect panorama of the villages, homesteads, and lake. The hike ended up becoming a five hour epic journey with multiple “I can’t believe I’m experiencing this right now” moments. Watch the video below for a glimpse of what I saw from the summit!

- Every evening when I come home from work, the children in the Staff Compound come running and smiling towards me. I through them each into the air and give them big hugs. They constantly yell, “Ciao!”, “Hello!”, or “OBAMA!” as I walk by!

I’m working at the Maternal and Child Health Clinic (a.k.a. MCH)/ Tuberculosis (a.k.a. TB) Clinic. My co-workers Irene, Helen, and Mary, have been incredibly patient, helpful, and thoughtful. I’ve learned so much in such a short time and I know I’m going to enjoy my work very much.

Highlights and Lowlights of working at MCH/TB:

- Yes, it is both a pregnant mothers and infant clinic AND a tuberculosis clinic. Everyone is well aware of the danger and stupidity of the situation, but there are honestly few other options right now. They are dong the best they can with the little they have. And it’s better than nothing.

-I saw a pregnant mother find out she was HIV Positive on my first day. Talk about a wake up call. I’m in Africa. The HIV prevalence surrounding Karungu is anywhere from 15% to 30%, depending on who you ask. This is serious. This is everyday life.

- I’ve seen more TB patients, HIV patients, pregnant mothers, and newborn infants in 4 days than I’ve seen in my entire life. It’s incredible.

- I’ve learned how to give vaccinations, take blood pressure, find a fetal heart beat, and find the fundal height and presentation of the baby. I’m getting pretty good at estimating the gestation period and I’m learning about all the possible complications of a pregnancy. The ultrasound technician loves Americans, which means I get a detailed explanation for any ultrasound (which are actually very few since they are only referred if there are possible complications)

- When there are no patients, I started organizing and consolidating their out of date filing/record keeping system The nurses are very appreciative and I enjoy/abhor seeing the extent of the data collection the nurses must do for the unending number of sponsors/donors (A short list includes CMMB, PEPFAR, The Kenyan Ministry of Health, MYAE (and Italian Mothers to Mothers NGO) and many more).

- I went on one of the MCH Mobile Clinics. So much to tell.

I think that’s enough for now. In short, this has been one of the most beautiful, heartbreaking, discouraging, inspiring, and thrilling weeks of my life. I constantly find myself completely overwhelmed. I’m doing my best to be patient with myself: I can only do small things with great love. It’s only been one week and I have many more to go. I can only imagine what is in store.

Please continue to keep me in your prayers. More importantly, pray for the mothers, children, and sick patients that come to St. Camillus. Pray that we can offer them the comfort and care they need and that Christ will bring them healing of body and spirit.

Feel free to send me mail at the address on the right. According to the other volunteers, it is best to send things in padded envelopes rather than boxes or packages. So if you can shove it in an envelope, send it my way!! Any music, movies, games, or treats will be much appreciated by all the volunteers and neighbors!!

Also feel free to call my Kenyan cell phone. Simply dial: +254714798157. It is free for me to receive incoming calls, so get an international calling card or Skype and call away!! Nobelcom.com has rates to call from the States to Kenya for as low as 11 cents a minute!

Halfway there and living on a prayer

Sitting in Heathrow's International Terminal as travelers from around the world hustle about to their various departure gates, the enormity of this globe and the experience I'm just beginning slowly sinks in. In a few short hours, Amanda, Jimmy, and I will board a plane to Nairobi. My emotions alternate between amazement, unbelief, shock, exhilaration, calm, and giddiness when I think about the journey I've begun. One of my life dreams is literally unfolding before my eyes.

I spent this past week at CMMB Orientation at the beautiful Stella Maris retreat house in Long Branch, New Jersey. The CMMB Volunteer Coordinators Richard and Lizzie organized an excellent 3 days where fellow volunteers heard discussions on essential topics ranging from travel safety, medical professional safety precautions, tropical health, maintaining communications, and the history, structure, and vision of CMMB. Most importantly, we met our fellow missionaries, both new missionaries like myself and veterans. Hearing their stories, seeing their passion, and feeding off their excitement only energized me more. We even spent a day in New York City at the CMMB Headquarters! We had a few free hours in the evening to explore the city. As a first timer, I soaked it all in. We walked from the CMMB Headquarters on 17th St. to Times Square, ate delicious NY pizza at John's Pizzeria, and took the train back to New Jersey. The short visit only made me want to return and explore the rest of the Big Apple.

On our last morning of Orientation, Lisette, Lisa, Liz and I woke up early to say Morning Prayers while the sun crawled its way over the Atlantic horizon. Cuddled under blankets in the picturesque gazebo, I couldn't help be thank God for the incredible blessings He has poured out upon me. My entire life has been one incredible grace after another. Leaving my family, friends, home, and first world way of life only reminds me the depth of God's blessings in my life. Saying goodbye proved much harder than I anticipated and the uncertainty of communication while in Kenya only make it harder. But I know my time away will only strength my love and appreciation for those at home who have shaped me and supported me through it all.

I'm half way to Kenya. In limbo between home and what will soon be my new home. Caught in the middle of the known and the unknown, the safe and the unsure, the comfortable and the challenging. At this point, all I have to live on is prayer. I repeated over and over during Orientation, "If God brings you to it, He'll bring you through it". With this thought, I lay my life in His hands. I pray that He uses me as His humble servant to heal the sick, bring comfort to the afflicted, visit the lonely, and feed the hungry.

My next post will come from St. Camillus Hospital in the tiny Karungu, Kenya. Bless the Lord, oh my soul!!