The Long Journey Up and the Long Journey Home… Kenya Week 35: May 30- June 5

There’s something magical about watching the morning sun tiptoe its way over the horizon from the top of a 15,000 foot mountain. It had taken us three days of grueling climbing to reach the summit of Mt. Kenya. Despite the fact that Van and I started the climb in less than perfect health and despite the fact that there’s pretty much ZERO oxygen over 14,000 feet above sea level, and despite the fact that freezing winds nearly knocked my hiking boots right off, I’ve never felt more alive standing on top of the second tallest mountain in Africa at sunrise.

In a powerful way, climbing Mt. Kenya is a perfect metaphor for my eight months in this crazy country. I’d heard climbing the second tallest mountain in Africa was an experience of a lifetime. Something not to be missed. A challenge worth the struggle. An adventure few could claim. So I read everything there was to read. I made sure I had all the right equipment and supplies. I found a guide to show the way, a porter to carry the heavy stuff, and a much more experienced mountain climbing friend to accompany me.

Coming to Africa was nearly identical. An experience of a lifetime. A world full of challenges waiting to be discovered. An adventure. Something not to be missed. So I read everything I could about Kenyan culture, politics, and health care. I found a great NGO to set everything up. I found sponsors, friends, and donors to make it possible. And I had a few other Americans to go with to help along the way.

But just like coming to Kenya, I started climbing Mt. Kenya not really having any idea what I was getting into. Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning before we started the climb, the mountain was covered in clouds. So when Joseph our guide pointed in the general direction of the mountain, I could only imagine what exactly the monster I was hoping to conquer really looked like. Just like any movie or book or map of Africa can try to point out what exactly Africa is all about, I only had a cloudy, vague idea of what that really meant.

Ready for the adventure despite the lingering cough and looming clouds, we started hiking. By Tuesday at sunrise, we reached Point Lenana- exhausted, freezing, and wheezing. Suddenly the hours of hiking, the sore legs, the cold nights were totally worth it. We’d signed up to climb a mountain. This is what we were looking for. This is what we got. And so much more.

As I looked out over what seemed like all of East Africa from my heavenly view point, I realized that I had done much more than climb a mountain. I had done much more than survived a four day hike. I had survived eight months in Africa. I had built wonderful relationships that gave me new view points. I’d overcome challenges that lifted me to new heights. I’d seen things few others in my world back home had ever seen. And just when I thought I couldn’t go another step, I did. And another. And another. And before I knew it, I’d reached the summit.

While I can claim that I conquered Mount Kenya, I know that in no way can I claim that I conquered Kenya. But I conquered myself in Kenya. I proved to myself that I could take another step. That I could overcome the lack of oxygen, the absence of creature comforts, the familiarity of the known.

As we hiked back to basecamp Wednesday morning, I constantly turned around to look back at the clear blue sky and enormous mountain we had just climbed. “You mean to tell me I just came from THERE?” “I walked all that way?”

The saying is true- ignorance really is bliss. Because honestly, had I seen the mountain Sunday morning, I don’t know if I would have made it all the way to the top. Looking back at the mass of rock I had just ascended and descended, I wondered why I ever thought it was a good idea to climb that mountain and how the heck I managed to make it to the top.

And maybe that’s the greatest metaphor. Had I really known what the heck I was getting myself into when I signed up to come to Kenya, I don’t know if I could have made it. Looking back now, I am amazed at where I started and where I reached. “I really came all that way?”

So just like climbing Mt. Kenya and just like my eight months in Kenya, I started and ended in the exact same place. The base of the mountain. And the airport. But the places I ventured between here and there defy explanation. Incredibly difficult. Surprisingly painful. But worth every moment.

And just like climbing Mt. Kenya and just like my eight months in Kenya, I can’t wait to do it again. Not right away. I need some time to recover. But someday I’ll be back. Maybe not in the exact same place or with the exact same route. But I’ll climb another mountain. And I’ll come back to Africa. It’s too good to miss out.

Adventures of a Lifetime …Kenya (and Uganda) Week 34: May 23-May 29

After spending eight months in tiny little Karungu, I wanted to travel a bit through East Africa before heading home. There’s too much beauty in this part of the world to miss! So Van and I spent the week heading from one adventure to the next on wonderful Kenyan and Ugandan public transportation. Below are my High’s and Low’s for Week 34- my second to last week in Kenya. The High’s were super high and the Low’s were a bit too low. But that’s Africa right? What a great way to end my time in Kenya!

Sunday, May 23

High: Spending the afternoon with Emma and Calmax. Calmax is attending Nursing School in Kendu Bay thanks to a wonderful donation from friends back home. Van and I got to see his school, meet his teachers and roommates, and visit the hospital where Calmax is learning the wonderful art of nursing. What a blessing to be a part of that experience!

Low: Leaving Karungu. Enough said.

Monday, May 24

High: Crossing the border into Uganda. Uganda is clean, organized, and well paved (the roads that is!).

Low: Watching Van turn white, then green, after our delicious Indian food lunch. For some reason it didn’t sit well with him. Poor guy.

Tuesday, May 25

High: Flipping the raft TWICE while white water rafting down the Nile on some of the wildest Class 5 rapids in the world. There’s no feeling like being swept down a raging river hoping the safety kayaks are nearby to come pick you up. Don’t worry Mom, it was all perfectly safe!!

Low: Inhaling half the Nile the second time we flipped the raft. The racking cough the rest of the afternoon was a bit annoying, but it was totally worth it.

Wednesday, May 26

High: Eating dinner at Carnivore, the world famous unlimited grilled meat restaurant in Nairobi after getting off the bus after the ten hour trip from Jinja, Uganda to Nairobi, Kenya.

Low: The sinking “you’re getting sick” feeling I got halfway between Jinja and Nairobi. It didn’t help that Van was feeling nauseous again sitting next to me.

Thursday, May 27

Low 1: Spending the whole day in bed after being diagnosed with a bacterial respiratory infection. Turns out it’s not a good idea to inhale half the Nile. You will get sick. So my 100 degree fever and earthshaking coughing made for a long, painful, “this really sucks” day.

Low 2: Realizing that starting to climb Mount Kenya tomorrow with this fever and infection might not be a good idea. So Van and I decided to push back the climb two days so I could recover. Unfortunately that means we only have 4 days instead of 5 days on the mountain.

Friday, May 28

Low: Despite all the Coartem (Malaria medication- just in case I have malaria), Amoxicillin, Ibuprofen, and anti-histamines prescribed by the doctor in Nairobi, my fever still didn’t break and my coughing hadn’t subsided. So again, I spent the whole day in bed.

High: Having Van and the priests at the St. Camillus Seminary take good care of me. And feeling my fever break late in the evening.

Saturday, May 29

High: Waking up and knowing that the worst of the infection was over and that we could start our Mount Kenya climb tomorrow as we’d planned. We met up with Joseph the mountain guide and his younger brother Paul the porter in Nanyuki, the small town at the base of Mt. Kenya, to prepare everything so we could start the 4 day adventure first thing the next morning!

Low: Although I was finally feeling much better, poor Van had yet another bout of…something. So between my coughing and his barfing, we made for a well prepared, super-healthy, mountain climbing duo!

It’s Not Goodbye, It’s See You Soon… Kenya Week 33: May 16-22

"Wait, you’re going home? America home?”

“You mean you aren’t coming back to Karungu?”

“How long will you be in America before coming back to Kenya?”

Question after question flooded me this week as I wrapped up my work here in Karungu. The week was packed with home visits, follow ups, and sneaking in two more school cementing projects with the remaining budget. Meanwhile, head teachers and community health volunteers from around Karungu called, visited, and pleaded that I not leave yet. “There’s still so much work to be done…how can you go now?”

I heartbreakingly responded to each of my new friends and co-workers with more or less the same answer…

“I’m going home for more schooling. But the Jiggers Project is still going on. I won’t be here in person, but I’ll be in America raising money and working with the volunteers here in Kenya. And don’t worry, I’ll come back to Kenya as soon as I can.”

Although I realize the difficulty of that promise -to continue raising money and working with the project while a medical student and promising to come back to Kenya as soon as I can- I know that I’ve worked too hard, invested too much, and began something too great to let it end when I leave Karungu.

The greatest blessing of the week was visiting many of the homes and families we’ve worked with. Almost everyone is jigger free and full of hope. Because of the heavy rains lately, many of the newly constructed homes remain unsmeared. But each of the families promised that as soon as the soil is dry enough to begin smearing, they’ll complete the work. And everyone seemed to understand how to prevent the jiggers from returning. So my unofficial evaluation of the project so far:

SUCCESS!!

While the greatest blessing was visiting all the families, the greatest heartbreak by far was saying goodbye to the neighborhood kids. As I gathered my last few things from the house, the kids drew pictures and wrote “Goodbye Kayla” notes. I managed to hold back my tears just long enough to hug them all goodbye. Of course kissing little Davis on the cheek and realizing I wasn’t going to be around to see them all grow into beautiful adults was too much. As I walked away from my little Kenyan house in the staff compound for the last time, eight months of tears poured down my suntanned cheeks.

Those tears instantly resurface when I think of the life I’ve left behind in Karungu. By far the most difficult, frustrating, overwhelming, lonely, eight months of my life. And yet simultaneously the most transformative, eye-opening, encouraging, unbelievable, indescribable eight months of my life.

So I have to keep reminding myself: Yes I’m going back to America. But it’s not goodbye, it’s see you soon.

Kenya: I’m not through with you yet.