You can ask my mother: I’ve always hated goodbyes. As a child I preferred crying in bed buried under my covers rather than saying goodbye to family and friends on their way to the airport. Unfortunately such behavior is frowned upon for 22 year old Public Health Officers. But believe it or not, the long, heartbreaking ordeal of saying goodbye has begun. I’m still trying to piece together where exactly the last 8 months disappeared to. As I went to visit and say goodbye to each of the homes and families I’ve been worked with over the past months, I’m witnessing firsthand the fruits of my labor and that of all the donors and supporters of the project.
So I have to pull myself together and search for the right words to express as I hug each person goodbye. Those words usually include praise for their hard work, encouragement to continue preventing the jiggers, and finally a promise to return as soon as possible.
As I look ahead to my last week in Karungu, I can’t help but think about how much more work there is to do. Right now I’m out of time and out of money. But that doesn’t mean I intend to stop working with the Public Health Officers and Community Health Volunteers. I might not be here in person, but with modern technology and a lot of love, I’ll definitely be here in spirit. I plan on continuing to raise money to help the families that were left behind and complete the projects we placed on the “Wish List”.
Next week I’ll give the final count for the project. How many people we treated for jiggers, how many homes we cemented or smeared or roofed, how many classrooms we cemented, etc. etc. But for now, I want to focus on the people. Yeah, the numbers are nice and easy to process. But they reflect the very real struggles, hopes, joys, and dreams of the people I’ve come to know and love.
Last Friday I said a tearful goodbye to my friends in Otati (a small village in Karungu) and promised to return as soon as I find a sponsor to pay my transport. They promised to keep working hard to help those affected by jiggers.
And they once again reminded me and made me promise to never forget:
“Nying’a Kayla Adhiambo na Otati”.
My name is Kayla Adhiambo from Otati.
p.s. Speaking of names: Check it out! My blog made its way onto another blog! http://nameberry.com/blog/2010/05/05/african-names-a-report-from-kenya/
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
The OTHER Kenya…Kenya Week 31: May 2 - May 8
Some experiences defy description. Being surrounded by over 200 grazing elephants slowly migrating their way across East Africa is exactly one of those experiences.
This week I bid a quick goodbye to Karungu to experience the other side of Kenya: the breathtaking landscapes and abundant wildlife that most people only watch on the Discovery Channel or read about in National Geographic.
Monday was a whirlwind, two wheeled tour of Hell’s Gate National Park. I shared the sights and the soreness with Guilia Martelli, an Italian medical student who had just completed two months of research for her thesis on HIV and secondary infections (what better place that St. Camillus Hospital in Karungu?!?) We spent the day riding rented bicycles, dividing our awe between the spectacular rock formations, the magnificent gorge that gives the park its name and its eerie resemblance of many people’s imagine of the less preferred afterlife, and the countless wildlife grazing only feet away from the bike path. Don’t worry, there aren’t any predators in Hell’s Gate; the zebras, antelopes, and warthogs were much more afraid of us than we were of them.
Let me just say this about the Hell’s Gate National Park: if you only have one day to spend in Kenya, this is where to spend it.
After 8 hours of hard cycling on rough terrain my rear end slowly recovered over the next few days while I ran errands in Nairobi. Then I completed “The Other Kenya” experience with a two day Safari of the world famous Maasai Mara, accompanied by a dear friend visiting from home. Between the family of lions lounging only feet away, the awkward wildebeests scrambling to their feet to get out of the way of our vehicle, and the countless elephants encircling our comparatively tiny vehicle, I found myself constantly speechless and close to tears. It was truly an unbelievable, unforgettable, “I’m going to tell my grandchildren about this” experience.
Let me just say this about Maasai Mara: if you only have two days in Kenya, this is where to spend them.
After this week, I now see why tourists from around the world spend thousands of dollars to visit Kenya and its indescribable beauty. While I wasn’t exactly thrilled to end my safari and begin the long trek back to Karungu on public transportation, I know that I wouldn’t trade the up close and personal experiences I’ve had a REAL Kenyan life here in Karungu. The scenery and wildlife keep the tourists pouring in and the Kenyan economy stronger than many of its East African neighbors. But the Kenya that I know: the heartbreaking, breathtaking, rural Kenya is the Kenya I will always and forever consider home.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Something of a Silver Lining...Kenya Week 30: April 25- May 1
The rains throughout Kenya continue pouring. I'm continually frustrated by the dark clouds and muddy roads. I cringe everytime we have to change our plans and postpone our activities. Yet the clouds that frustrate me bring joy to most Kenyans: the farmers rejoice as their crops - the well being of their families- grow and green.
As I reflect on this past week, I realize that every dark cloud really does have something of a silver lining...
Wednesday morning, I sat comfortably in the big Land Crusier on the way to Otati for a Jigger Removal Day at the Dispensary. The few other volunteers and health workers also in the vehicle eagerly discussed the events of last night: thugs broke in and robbed one of the biggest business men in the Karungu division, stealing anywhere between $650 and $6,500 depending on which rumor you believe. As they swapped gossip, we came upon a huge crowd gathered in the road. Apparently one of the robbers had been caught and killed during a shoot out with the police in the field only a few hundered meters from the road. As the police proudly walked back to their vehicles, the crowd rushed to see the murdered body, declaring happily that justice has been served.
While I spent the day trying to hold back the nausea I felt each time I saw the image of the murdered robber in my mind, I found out that I had also been the victim of a crime. On Wednesday afternoon, not a small chunk of change of the Jigger Project money was stolen within hours of being withdrawn from the ATM.
My already nauseuos stomach swelled into my chest. My first thought was not anger towards the robbers but rather an overwhelming saddness. How can I continue helping the families plagued by these parasites? My time in Kenya along with the project budget is already running low. Now there's almost nothing left. Do I have to cancel the projects we've already begun? Will we have enough funds to buy the cement we promised for Not Primary School, after the community has worked so hard to raise the funds to prepare the floors for the cementing? And what about the families that we promised to help smear their homes? Do I have to tell them nevermind- we don't have any more money?
And what about the donors that trusted me with their money? What kind of missionary am I to allow such a thing to happen? Can I face them and tell them I used every penny of their money to the best of my ability?
Thankfully there's a silverlining in ever cloud. A sympathetic volunteer doctor at St. Camillus donated $194 to help refund some of the stolen money. And the Catholic Medical Mission Board is giving me an "emergency stipend" this month that I can apply back towards the project. Even with the extra help, I'm still "in the red" when it comes to the stolen money. But since I'm personally responsible for the project funds, I'll make up for the loss from my meager savings. At least that way I don't have to say no to the families we've already promised to help.
Despite the rather traumatic day on Wednesday, I'm still incredibly optimistic about the Project and my reminaing few weeks in Karungu. Its been such a blessing seeing the Before and Afters of each of the families we've assisted. Whether they stand in front of their newly roofed and smeared homes or admire the miraculous healing of previously jigger infested hands and feet, the look of hope and gratitude on their faces is undeniable. So yeah, I'm out a few hundred dollars. But I'm not doing any more that what I've asked my donors to do. At least I get to see the Before and After's first hand.
I still have sympathy for the robbers. They would probably choose to work and earn a living if they had the option. But in a country with almost no jobs and staggering poverty, many people feel forced into theft for survival. Meanwhile, I pray for the family of the murdered man. I hope that someday a reliable justice system will be in place to negate the need for Mob Justice. And I hope that the men that stolen our money use it well.
May they all find some small silver lining in their dark clouds, especially during this Kenyan rainy season.
As I reflect on this past week, I realize that every dark cloud really does have something of a silver lining...
Wednesday morning, I sat comfortably in the big Land Crusier on the way to Otati for a Jigger Removal Day at the Dispensary. The few other volunteers and health workers also in the vehicle eagerly discussed the events of last night: thugs broke in and robbed one of the biggest business men in the Karungu division, stealing anywhere between $650 and $6,500 depending on which rumor you believe. As they swapped gossip, we came upon a huge crowd gathered in the road. Apparently one of the robbers had been caught and killed during a shoot out with the police in the field only a few hundered meters from the road. As the police proudly walked back to their vehicles, the crowd rushed to see the murdered body, declaring happily that justice has been served.
While I spent the day trying to hold back the nausea I felt each time I saw the image of the murdered robber in my mind, I found out that I had also been the victim of a crime. On Wednesday afternoon, not a small chunk of change of the Jigger Project money was stolen within hours of being withdrawn from the ATM.
My already nauseuos stomach swelled into my chest. My first thought was not anger towards the robbers but rather an overwhelming saddness. How can I continue helping the families plagued by these parasites? My time in Kenya along with the project budget is already running low. Now there's almost nothing left. Do I have to cancel the projects we've already begun? Will we have enough funds to buy the cement we promised for Not Primary School, after the community has worked so hard to raise the funds to prepare the floors for the cementing? And what about the families that we promised to help smear their homes? Do I have to tell them nevermind- we don't have any more money?
And what about the donors that trusted me with their money? What kind of missionary am I to allow such a thing to happen? Can I face them and tell them I used every penny of their money to the best of my ability?
Thankfully there's a silverlining in ever cloud. A sympathetic volunteer doctor at St. Camillus donated $194 to help refund some of the stolen money. And the Catholic Medical Mission Board is giving me an "emergency stipend" this month that I can apply back towards the project. Even with the extra help, I'm still "in the red" when it comes to the stolen money. But since I'm personally responsible for the project funds, I'll make up for the loss from my meager savings. At least that way I don't have to say no to the families we've already promised to help.
Despite the rather traumatic day on Wednesday, I'm still incredibly optimistic about the Project and my reminaing few weeks in Karungu. Its been such a blessing seeing the Before and Afters of each of the families we've assisted. Whether they stand in front of their newly roofed and smeared homes or admire the miraculous healing of previously jigger infested hands and feet, the look of hope and gratitude on their faces is undeniable. So yeah, I'm out a few hundred dollars. But I'm not doing any more that what I've asked my donors to do. At least I get to see the Before and After's first hand.
I still have sympathy for the robbers. They would probably choose to work and earn a living if they had the option. But in a country with almost no jobs and staggering poverty, many people feel forced into theft for survival. Meanwhile, I pray for the family of the murdered man. I hope that someday a reliable justice system will be in place to negate the need for Mob Justice. And I hope that the men that stolen our money use it well.
May they all find some small silver lining in their dark clouds, especially during this Kenyan rainy season.
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