I swallowed a bug the other day and I felt better than this.

Yesterday was a bit hectic. I spent the day out at an immunization clinic with Tia Patrick and Josh Roose. Before the babies arrived, I learned to drive stick shift (like the car gears) up a mountain. We spent most of the time in gear one because there simply was no road. We took a quick trip to see a hot spring. A hot spring is exactly that- a hot spring- but the water actually comes out of the ground really HOT!! And you can see it bubble up out of the dirt! I thought it was awesome. Yesterday feels like a year ago, so I’ll keep it short. We stopped at a grocery store on the way home and treated ourselves to some ice cream. As we walked in, a guy greeted us with “MZUNGUS WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” (The equivalent of, “WHITE PEOPLE, what are you doing here?) but in a very friendly way.

Today was a long day. Parts of it were awesome so I’ll start with those. The clinic was held at a health facility in Kanusin (in the Sotik District). The community built the health center and handed it over to the government to run, but every year the government stalls on opening it and providing services. There is one government staffed nurse but she is not equipped well. TCHD will continue to give out immunizations and encourage the people to live healthy until the government gets their act together. Playing with the babies is always fun, and I learned a lot about giving immunizations and even got to give a few (the oral polio ones- I just prepared the shots for tetanus, whooping cough, dypheria, hemophyillis, influenza B, and hepatitis B).

Playing with the babies is always fun. Apparently every mom complains about this, but I swear, these babies would smile and laugh and I’d take the camera out and they’d suddenly stop. It wasn’t that they were scared of it- I think they would just prefer to eat it. A mentally retarded girl who did not want to get her shots really hit me hard. Both physically and emotionally. Through Florence, I found out from her grandmother that her mother had died giving birth to her at Tenwek Hospital, and there had been a month period where no family members had been there to take care of her. As I helped hold her for her vaccines, I couldn’t help but think of the babies up in the nursery right now, and of Joseph. The doctors and nurses are incredible people- and they really do love the babies, but of course being motherless for those first few months will have an impact.

There was also a mother who brought in a boy with a deformed foot (the left foot was turned all the way in). I explained that we can fix that at Tenwek, and it’s a very simple operation although there are follow-up operations. She explained that would be too “expensive” and it would take away from her other children. It’s weird talking to moms here who look my age or younger, but have four children.

Jane, a woman at TCHD I’ve grown really close with and the leader for Maternal Child Health, came with us today. It was such a privilege getting to talk to her about all the cultural things and what it means to be a leader here. She clarified all the different tribes. I don’t know about the spelling and I don’t have enough of a connection to check, but the three main groups are the Bantus, Nylotes, and Cushites.

The Bantus include the Kukuyu’s and Kisi, while the Nylotes include the Kalenjin, Luo, and Maasai. The Cushites live along the coast. During all the violence a few months ago, the Nylotes (Kalenjin’s, Luo’s, Maasai) and Cushites came together to fight the majority- the Kukuyu’s. Now, fighting is going on between the Kipsigis (sub-tribe under Kalenjin) and the Maasai. Some of it’s political, but it’s also about land and cows. “Blood is thicker than water” is how Jane puts it.

Because of the funeral this weekend for the MP and assistant MP who died in the crash, the clinic was slow. We listened the whole day to songs and speeches and family members talking about Labosa- and it was really really interesting. On the drive back, we ended up at the funeral (just one day of it). We had seen a helicopter fly over while we were working and one of the guys told me that’s probably what it was, but I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. Thousands of people were out paying respects in the rain. Cameras weren’t allowed, but the nurses told me I would be safe as long as I took pictures in the car. We watched as they loaded the body back into the helicopter (we arrived at the end) and the people scattered as the helicopter took off. Everyone watched it disappear out of the valley. The amnesty issue definitely came up- people want youths arrested for the violence following the elections pardoned. They’ve been sitting in jail without trail for months now. I haven’t made up my mind yet, but I agree with both, “someone who cheated a whole country is still allowed to be president, but kids who protested that cheating are put in jail, that’s not right.” BUT, at the same time- this was violence that killed, that raped and looted and displaced 300,000 people. There’s no way that can go unpunished.

I really want to go to the funeral tomorrow, but there will be ten+ thousand people there, and I doubt I’ll see anything. Also, there’s a medical conference here and some of it is devoted to how the violence affected the hospital and the types of cases we saw then. So, I think I’m going to do that.

After the funeral, I don’t know what happened but I got into a really weird mood. We got stuck in Bomet as the thousands spread out. We kept letting more people get in the car for the ride back to Tenwek. In Kenya, even if you have 12 people crammed in the back, there’s “always room for one more.” It was stuffy, wet and cold, and it was difficult to breathe because some petroleum had spilled. I was wedged in between John, Gilbert, and Clement, and the bar had broken on the top of the truck that we used to hold on- so we were all going everywhere (my neck is VERY sore).

I knew my attitude was in serious trouble when I prayed that we wouldn’t pick up an elderly woman who was limping (and we didn’t). The “New Yorker” in me started showing through crystalized in the worst form. As we bumped down the road to Tenwek, I found myself thinking for the first time, “what am I DOING here?!” Waking up in the London airport, and the first morning here was a strange, “wait, who am I again?” experience because I was around the world totally alone. Waking up to the smell of Josh and his father cooking pancakes, eggs, and bacon made me think in my dream-like state that I was actually home in New York. But today’s feeling was something totally different. It was second thoughts about coming. I didn’t have second thoughts when I (lost my luggage, ate a bug, woke up almost choking entangled in a mosquito net, forgot toilet paper+hand sanitizer when using a latrine, saw a baby die, watched a hemophiliac all but bleed to death, etc., etc.,- pick any of those or any of the other million new experiences that might make me think twice). Now, I almost think it comical that it was the traffic that ticked me off.

I remained silent the whole trip and I think everyone just thought I was tired- but in my head I was reeling about personal space, and why we stopped for drinks when we could’ve driven out of the city before everyone reached us and created traffic. It just wasn’t good, and after an hour of stop and go “traffic” (traffic isn’t even a word here I think- but today it was). I came back and did everything I could to just re-focus. I showered, put on totally new clothes and socks, and sat down for some quality me time. I set my books down on my bed, grabbed some chocolate and turned on some good music until dinner.

I was flipping through my iPod today and the song God Bless America came on. It made me so mad- not the song itself, but America and how self-obsessed we are. What would we think if other country’s did what we do. What if France touted “God Bless France” everywhere. “God Bless EVERYONE” sounds better to me. I can be very patriotic and there’s something about an American Flag, and the values we stand for, and the people who have fought and died to make those values a reality that always brings tears to my eyes, but the American Dream as I’ve seen it lived out in Westchester is not any dream.
More on that another night though.

I’m feeling better now and I’m looking forward to tomorrow. A day like today reminds me that I cannot do this alone, but only with God’s strength.

Here’s an article from the paper today.