This Tuesday was the second time I went to the town of Turbo to spend the day at a hospice facility called "Living Room." (check out livingroominternational.org if you get the chance...) It's about an hour and a half drive from Eldoret, and I've been going with an awesome physical therapist, Chrissy. The first week we went it was pretty difficult. Spending the day with individuals who are actively dying from AIDS or other life threatening illnesses really forces you to check your own reality. This place provides dignity and quality of life to the forgotten, abused, and neglected. There are mainly older adults there, but currently two children who are 5 and 8 years old, and one teenage-ish girl. All three of these young people were found abandoned in terrible, unspeakable conditions. One of the kidos has cerebral palsy, and both are cognitively impaired. I worked mostly with these youngsters the first week I was there, which was a challenge. The language barrier was prominent. I've been spoiled at Sally Test because most of the children there have had some english, and welcome me with open arms when I lead music interventions in english. There is always some translating, but all in all Sally Test kids benefit from learning english songs and the like. At Living Room though, swahili is the primary language, and especially since the children have some degree of developmental delay, I struggled to connect with them. I also sang at the bedside with several adults, but again, I spoke little swahili, and they spoke little english.
This week I decided to ask if I could sing hymns in the common room. (THANK YOU, Mamabear, for making me throw in a binder of adult-ish music at the last minute!) All the adults were up and in the common room when we arrived. I greeted people, gathered my courage, and said, "Nina itwa Kathleen. Ninatoka nchi ya America. Ninaimba?" Roughly: "My name is Kathleen. I'm from the country of America. Can I sing?" So I sang hymns for probably 45 minutes or so. People were responsive, some smiled, some closed their eyes. I'd pause after a couple and say, "Mzuri sana? Hapana? Ndiyo?" Meaning, "It's good? Yes, no, keep going? Shut the heck up?!" They always nodded, so I kept singing. I suppose that's progress. Javan was kind enough to take me into town today to a music store where we found a CD of swahili hymns. Some are traditional, and some are familiar tunes with translated words. So now I just need to learn to sing in swahili, no biggie. I also worked with all three kids providing developmental support. I plopped them on my lap and sang counting songs and parts of the body songs, along with several general hello type ditties. Those 4 songs represent the whole of my knowledge of memorized swahili songs! But hey, I'd say I'm learning at least a song or two a week, so I'll continue to build repertoire. The staff at Living Room are incredible. They are so nurturing and supportive. On the way home it started pouring rain, not an unlikely event. One of the staff members has been giving us a ride from the middle of the village back to our car which is parked off the main dirt road. Once you turn to go into the village, you're on the BUMPIEST dirt roads I've ever encountered. There are absolutely no street signs, and it's a complete maze of roads and fields that all look the same. I don't know what we'd do if we got lost. You don't call AAA. You probably can't call anyone, and I don't know what you'd say if you did, "I'm by a field...at the corner of two dirt roads...there's a goat..." That describes the corner of every two dirt roads. So anyway, they're wise to let Chrissy park the car and then take us the last 30 minutes or so into the village. During the rainy season the dirt roads are ridiculous. I mean, pot holes galore, practically a river of flowing water that you try to straddle, it's a wild ride. As we were slipping and slidding all over the roads (a similar experience to losing control of your car on a patch of ice or snow...) Juli says, "This is why we don't have adventure parks in Kenya! It's enough adventure to drive on the dirt roads in the rain!"
Some of you know that I'm a stickler for time. There are few things that urke me more than people who are constantly late. I've always thought tardiness is rude, and frankly, a form of arrogance. When you make someone wait for you, you're implying that your time is more valuable than theirs, and whatever you've got going on is more important than them. WELL, that mindset needs to fly right out the window. In Kenya things don't start on time. They don't start anywhere near to on time. Kenyans have a completely different sense of time than Americans (or at least this American). I mean holy cow, it's nutso!! In the three weeks that I've been here I've spent hoooooours waiting for people for various things: meeting someone for a morning run, waiting to get a tour of a facility, waiting to walk somewhere, etc. etc. I'm learning that when a Kenyan says they'll meet you at 7am, they mean 7-something. 7:35am, 7:45am, 7:59am....all fair game. I'm not the first to have gotten frustrated...the Americans just learn that time is incredibly flexible, and you should probably tack on at least 45 minutes to whatever the original time was. Ha. I was joking with Michael, one of the guards about my experiences thus far and he said, "Ah yes....you mzungus keep good time. Good, good time. It is good to keep time. Africans don't keep time, you'll learn, my American daughter." This will be good for me.
This morning was one of my many waiting game days. I was supposed to meet Alice, a nice Kenyan woman I met last week, to run at 6:30am. I showed up to our meeting place at 6:25 (I can't help it...) and paced a bit. I started walking up and down the dirt road that she lives on, knowing that when she surfaced I'd see her. I waited until 7:05 with no sign of Alice. So I finally just ran by myself. She called me in the afternoon and apologized--the problem is she doesn't have an alarm clock, and today her body decided to wake her up at 7:30 instead of 6:30. Fair enough. So she invited me to stop by her place in the evening. When I got there, she had fresh avocado, sweet potatoes, carrots, onions and cabbage. I asked if she'd teach me how to make chapati, my favorite food so far, and she said of course. Chapati is flour, warm water, a pinch of salt, and vegetable oil mixed together, then rolled out into tortilla sized pieces. Then it's fried and delicious. She set me up outside on a tree stump over a small fire with her only frying pan and spoon for flipping. We made each chapati one by one. I'd flip the one that was frying while she rolled out the next one and brought it to me. Then we mixed together the sweet potatoes and avocado and spread that on the warm chapati. We mixed the cabbage, carrot and onion with sugar and vinegar and also had a salad. Her home is only big enough for a bed, a cabinet, a chair and a make shift wooden bench. There's no running water or electricity, no bathroom, it's just one room. Actually, her entire home is the size of our upstairs bathroom at 7215 Steinmeier Drive. When it started getting dark she lit a kerosine lamp, and we laughed and sang songs and ate by far the best meal I've had in Kenya. What a great evening. I'm so moved by friendly people who will share everything they have, no matter how much or little it is.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Neema and Tumaini: Grace and Hope
Man, so much has gone on in one week. The Sally Test center is absolutely amazing, I love getting to know the kids. The other day we were playing outside on the teeter totter. One of the kids wanted me to get on, so of course I did. Pretty soon we had a stack of kids on one end of it, and me on the other. It got to be a game to see how many kids I could hold up...crutches and wheelchairs flew, hilarity ensued. It's amazing to see what these kids know about the hard facts of life. We read the story of Sadako, the little Japanese girl that got leukemia from the atomic bombing by the US. It's a sad story: she's told that if she folds 1,000 paper cranes, she'll be granted a wish. Her wish was just to live. Sadly, she only folded 600 and some before she died of leukemia. One of the teachers asked me to follow up with some processing-ish questions and try to facilitate a discussion after we read the story. I could hardly believe the things these kids came up with, they have seen so much death in their short lives. I was explaining how lifetimes can be different lengths. I started with a mayfly, that only lives a day, then worked up through different plants and animals that live various amounts of time. I explained very frankly, that there are certain things that happen and not everyone gets to live as long as others. There comes a time when your body stops working and that's when you die. One of the kids raised his hand and said in kiswahili: You don't know when your time will come, noone knows. Some kids die, and some old people die, but everyone dies, so it's okay. Needless to say, it was really an eye-opening experience to discuss death with these kids.
I also went to Neema house and the Tumaini children's drop-in center this week. Tumaini means "hope" and neema means "grace". The Tumaini center is a place for street kids to come during the day. They provide some meals, and also do some schooling. They have activities and play games. It's a place for these kids who have noone and nothing. They can go and meet other people and have some security in their lives. They have a social worker that tries to connect them with family and get them back into homes and off the streets some how. These kids are mostly teenagers, and the world has been so cruel to them. They definitely didn't warm up to me the way the punkins at Sally Test did. They're very hardened, and rightfully so, skeptical. I'm sure I just look like another privileged white woman that's coming in to look at the poverty they live in and say, "Wow, that's bad. I had no idea." So it was definitely a long day. In one of the back rooms, they have beading projects for some of the teenagers to do. They were making Purdue colored pins to ship to the states before Purdue's homecoming game. Man. I sat down at the table, very aware of my differences. I introduced myself with the little swahili I know, and that of course, was greeted by some chuckles. There was one volunteer in the room that could help me translate, so that was really nice. I told them where I'm from, how I'm volunteering at the hospital, and how I use music. One of the girls said something in swahili, and the volunteer said, "They're asking that you sing something." Now, one thing I've learned, when trying to explain what music therapy is, is that it is helpful to just do something. Sing something. Anything. So I did. I just sang one of the kids songs in swahili, and butchered all the words, I'm sure, but it actually got me somewhere. I got a few smiles and some laughter. It was as if I was showing them my flawed, human side, and all the sudden we could all relate to one another. After that there was a lot of fast talking in swahili, and I could pick out words like, "America" and "mzungu," but that's about it. I asked one of the girls to show me how to work on the pin, and she did, hesitantly. It was an experience. I hope that if I keep showing up and taking interest in their lives they'll learn to trust me. I'll keep going back, it can only get easier!
Neema house is a home for kids that are HIV positive. The couple that started it began with a shelter for a few abandoned kids to go, and then realized that they needed teachers as well. These kids that are HIV positive were getting cast aside in the schools...there is such a stigma. So they've built this program up, and now there are over 40 kids, some that live there, some that come for the day. They deal with so many doses of medicine, food, clothing, schooling, everything. They're really giving these kids a chance. They were giving me a tour and I started to say hi to some of the kids. Once I said hi to one, they all started lining up to properly introduce themselves to me. I got hi-fives, hugs, hair touching (What IS it with the hair?!) They were just so sweet. Just normal little kids running around in uniforms, but sadly their lives will be so stunted and different than other kids'. We were walking around and all the sudden I was crying so hard. I took a minute to myself and the woman who owns it (terrible that I can't remember her name right now) came over and hugged me. She just held me like her own child while I sobbed uncontrollably. I just can't believe what they go through. How could someone abandon them? They're just left in dumpsters or on the street to die. I think all the emotion from everything that I've seen in the past week just came pouring out.
Moving on...I have lots of workout partners! This is exciting. Javan, who drives around Sarah Ellen and basically holds together lots of things having to do with AMPATH and the Referral Hospital, mentioned something about a gym when we were in the car. I decided to ask if I could go with him and he said of course. Now, Javan is huge. Billy Banks huge. He was Mr. Kenya a few years ago, I kid you not. He's such a nice guy, and obviously a good one to have on your team. He has this smile that lights up a room, you can tell he's a big teddy bear under all them muscles! So I went with him to this gym, expecting to just do my own thing with weights and whatever was available. This is not like a gym in the US, it's one small room, with several machines, free weights, and a common room. But it gets the job done. So I was starting to use the weights, and Javan tells me that he teaches a kickboxing class in the common room, starting in a few minutes. Of course I said I'd go!! It was GREAT. Imagine 20 Kenyans and me smushed into a tiny space doing freaking military jumping, kicking, punching, and plyometric drills. I kept thinking, "Kick?! You want us to kick? There's no ROOM to kick!" But somehow it worked, and I got a great workout. Sign me up, I'm there every Tuesday and Thursday, baby. I've also gone running with one of the guards, Joseph. He's great, he always greets everyone with a warm smile and asks how their day has been. To my surprise, I could actually keep up with him. Me?! Running with a Kenyan?! It maaaaaay have something to do with the fact that he's nursing a knee injury and has to go slow, but hey, I'll take it. Four miles with the elevation in Eldoret feels like 7 miles in the US, but my body and lungs are getting used to it. Maybe that's why Kenyans always win marathons...they train at an altitude and then they don't have to deal with the same elevation when they go and compete elsewhere.
This weekend I went with a group of med students to Hell's Gate and Lake Naivasha. It was about a 4 hour drive, in an IU-approved matatu (matatus are crazy, 10-12 person vans that are notorious for driving so so so badly around town. I signed a form stating that I will never get in one without an approved driver...probably so that I don't die.) We rented mountain bikes, with Javan as our guide, and hiked around these beautiful gorges. We went out in a boat on Lake Naivasha and saw hippos and tons of birds, then took a walking tour on Crescent Island and saw giraffes, zebras, and wildabeasts! I realized that this is the first time that I've taken out my camera, probably because it costs the same amount of money that a lot of people around Eldoret make in a handful of months. Anyway, below are a few pictures of my adventures this weekend:
We stopped at the equator!
Some friends we met while in the gorge.
Hiking in Africa....look at that view.
We were so freakin close to them!
Making new friends...
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
This is a different world
There's a great deal of adjusting going on over here. Somehow I thought I was ready to see all of this, but I now know that there's nothing that could have prepared me for the conditions here, and especially the conditions in the hospital. This is an absolutely different world, and one full of so much hurting and yet so much hope. As we went up and down the halls checking with nurses about kids that were allowed to leave their bed and come play at the Sally Test Center, I just had a huge lump in my throat at all that I saw. There are multiple people and children sharing the same hospital bed, and there are rows and rows of beds in each ward, about 3 or 4 feet away from each other. There's no such thing as private rooms, there are curtains here and there, but everyone is in a very limited amount of space. When you go in each private room at Riley, you're likely to see patients hooked up to numerous machines: ones that monitor their vitals, ones giving them fluids, feeding tubes, etc. Here, there's none of that. No one is hooked up to anything, they're just lying there suffering, waiting to be seen. The physicians and med students, both Kenyan and American, are working extremely hard and doing the best they can, but wow. I was so shocked. I have never seen more than one person in a hospital bed, and more than two people sharing a room. The amount of space that's equivalent to one individual patient's room at Riley holds at least 6 or 7 beds, and 10+ people. There is obviously no fancy schmancy room service either, people eat ugali, a traditional dish made of corn flour and water, and beans. And visiting hours are limited to an hour and a half twice a day. In that time the chaos and amount of bodies is just unbelievable. It's kind of set up like a college campus in that numerous buildings are connected by a dirt path that's sheltered by a tin kind of roof. But because of the dirt path and all the rain in the rainy season (NOW) there is so much dirt and dust that gets swept in, making it really unsanitary.
The Sally Test Center is such a safe haven for these kids. It's a play room with toys, chairs, desks etc. that kids can come to and just be KIDS. There are no white coats allowed, no one can poke or hurt them when they're at Sally Test. There are full time staff that function as teachers, nurses, care-givers, everything. They are absolutely incredible. They bring so much joy into these kids' lives. You can just see them light up when one of the teachers goes to get them and gives them a high five. The kids have taken to me really well in the three days that I've been there. Some are shy at first because I look so different, but then they warm up to me. So far they've loved "Down By the Bay," "Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes," and "The Hokey Pokey." They especially love to put their backsides in, put their backsides out, put their backsides in, and shake it all about....or maybe they just laugh hysterically when they see a mzungu do it. It's different leading session in front of all swahili speaking kids and adults, but when it comes down to it, kids are kids. And they all love music. They giggle when I try to speak swahili, but then they help me. Man, kids are such good teachers. I can count to 10 in swahili, all because I just start counting and then have them help me. They request for me to read stories when we go sit in a circle on the carpet, I think they like my accent. The other day I was reading a story and one of the teachers was helping to translate into swahili, and I looked over and one of the boys was wearing my crocs. He's probably 7 or 8, and since I have small feet they fit him perfectly. Patricia, one of the teachers, smiled and said to me later, "Ahhh yes. He wanted to see what it feels like to be in your shoes." Man, I will never forget that moment. I just wish I brought more than one pair of washable shoes (everything gets super dusty) so that I could give him those crocs right now! We played a board game that involved cards, so naturally I grabbed them and shuffled them, and they thought that was the COOLEST thing!! I kept shuffling over and over and over again...that was way better than the game itself. The kids also love my watch- it's just an Ironman stopwatch that I got mainly for running, but now have been wearing daily. They love to push the light button--they push it and then I cup my hand around the watch so that the letters glow in the dark. Pretty soon I had like 10 little cuties huddled around me and waiting their turn to push the button and see my watch glow in the dark!!
The kids here are so different than kids in America. Kids in America have so many choices...they're used to picking what activity they want to do. And when they don't get their way, well you know. Kids here don't have those kinds of choices. They don't have iPads and video games with a choice of 50 different games. They barely have puzzles and blocks. And they're THRILLED to play anything with someone, so they never say, "No I don't want to play that, let's play this!" These kids have the most amazing spirits. They have so little to hold on to, but they hold on for dear life. We take the kids outside to play in the afternoon, and they've taught me the coolest games with just a couple of sticks and blocks. This one kid, Joseph, has his foot wrapped up in a make shift kind of cast thing, but he hops around on his other good leg. The bandage/cast is so filthy, and it's barely covering whatever wound is going on on the bottom of his foot. He bent down to pick something up and his casted leg swung up behind him, and I could see this gapping, oozing wound that was partially exposed and so infected. Yet we just play and walk around in the dust and dirt anyway, he doesn't complain. So much for infection control. We were playing with a basketball and he thought it was so cool that I could dribble the ball in a figure 8 around my legs. (Hey now, I have a few tricks up my sleeve from my athletic days!) The first time I did it he fell on the ground in a fit of giggles. It made me so warm and fuzzy. This other sweet girl, Claire, has been glued to my side since my second day. She has this beautiful, wide smile that she flashes when I say, "Jambo, Claire!!" Probably because she's half laughing at me for being a crazy "mzungu" (white person, or foreigner.) When I ventured into town so many people stared at me and said "Mzungu! Hi!" I haven't yet figured out if it's derogatory in nature, or if they're just stating the obvious. The very, very, very obvious.
Last night I finally rented a cell phone, and I decided to call the woman that I met on the plane ride from Nairobi to Eldoret. (The one that smushed me into her armpit to see the Somalian plane.) When I called she was so happy to hear from me. I called her as I was walking into town to find a Swahili/English pocket dictionary. She told me to stay where I was and that she'd come meet me and show me around. She picked me up and introduced me to some family members, then we went and had chai tea. After that she said she needed to pick up a few things for me at the grocery store. A few things turned into a cart full of groceries!! I kept saying, "Really, I don't need anything, they provide most of our meals." But she insisted that I have all of her favorite brands of bread, tea, wafers, juice, etc. She spent over 6,ooo shillings on me! That's somewhere around $60, which is a big honkin deal. So much money. I kept offering to help pay and she said, "No, no I am your Mama Chichi, you will not help." After that we met her family for dinner at a local restaurant. She started to order liver for me, and then remembered that I'd told her I don't eat meat when she'd offered to buy me meat at the store. So she said, "And for this one, the best vegetarian platter." Alllllll this food came out and it was so good! Beans, rice, a cole slaw kind of thing, a traditional kenyan food that's a mixture between a crepe and a pancake, I can't remember what it's called, and a ton of avocados. Avocados are sooooo cheap here, they grow everywhere. Chichi and her family couldn't believe it when I told them avocados are expensive in the US. During our meal the power went out, that happens a lot, and life just goes on. When the waitress brought out two candles and set them on our table, I said, "Oh, dinner by candle light, how romantic!" They all laughed. My Kenyan family is wonderful.
One more quick thing before I go to bed, I'm taking swahili lessons from a kookie Kenyan named Wyclef. So far I've had two lessons and I've learned greetings and some numbers. I remember at our first lesson he asked how I was adjusting and if I felt at home. He said it usually takes time for peoples' sleeping schedules to really sink in, and asked if I'd been sleeping well. Since he asked, I told him honestly that, no I really hadn't slept well yet. I've been doing sudoku at 4 in the morning when I still can't fall asleep, and all I can hear are the dogs barking. He replied, "Yes, yes, you can't sleep because the dogs are trying to sing in swahili. It's common, my dear." I like Wyclef, he's a keeper.
I have a running date with one of the guards from Eldoret tomorrow. He's hilarious and very warm and friendly to everyone. Let's see if I hold true to my blog name. I have a feeling I'm gonna be in for a rude awakening....
Kathleen
The Sally Test Center is such a safe haven for these kids. It's a play room with toys, chairs, desks etc. that kids can come to and just be KIDS. There are no white coats allowed, no one can poke or hurt them when they're at Sally Test. There are full time staff that function as teachers, nurses, care-givers, everything. They are absolutely incredible. They bring so much joy into these kids' lives. You can just see them light up when one of the teachers goes to get them and gives them a high five. The kids have taken to me really well in the three days that I've been there. Some are shy at first because I look so different, but then they warm up to me. So far they've loved "Down By the Bay," "Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes," and "The Hokey Pokey." They especially love to put their backsides in, put their backsides out, put their backsides in, and shake it all about....or maybe they just laugh hysterically when they see a mzungu do it. It's different leading session in front of all swahili speaking kids and adults, but when it comes down to it, kids are kids. And they all love music. They giggle when I try to speak swahili, but then they help me. Man, kids are such good teachers. I can count to 10 in swahili, all because I just start counting and then have them help me. They request for me to read stories when we go sit in a circle on the carpet, I think they like my accent. The other day I was reading a story and one of the teachers was helping to translate into swahili, and I looked over and one of the boys was wearing my crocs. He's probably 7 or 8, and since I have small feet they fit him perfectly. Patricia, one of the teachers, smiled and said to me later, "Ahhh yes. He wanted to see what it feels like to be in your shoes." Man, I will never forget that moment. I just wish I brought more than one pair of washable shoes (everything gets super dusty) so that I could give him those crocs right now! We played a board game that involved cards, so naturally I grabbed them and shuffled them, and they thought that was the COOLEST thing!! I kept shuffling over and over and over again...that was way better than the game itself. The kids also love my watch- it's just an Ironman stopwatch that I got mainly for running, but now have been wearing daily. They love to push the light button--they push it and then I cup my hand around the watch so that the letters glow in the dark. Pretty soon I had like 10 little cuties huddled around me and waiting their turn to push the button and see my watch glow in the dark!!
The kids here are so different than kids in America. Kids in America have so many choices...they're used to picking what activity they want to do. And when they don't get their way, well you know. Kids here don't have those kinds of choices. They don't have iPads and video games with a choice of 50 different games. They barely have puzzles and blocks. And they're THRILLED to play anything with someone, so they never say, "No I don't want to play that, let's play this!" These kids have the most amazing spirits. They have so little to hold on to, but they hold on for dear life. We take the kids outside to play in the afternoon, and they've taught me the coolest games with just a couple of sticks and blocks. This one kid, Joseph, has his foot wrapped up in a make shift kind of cast thing, but he hops around on his other good leg. The bandage/cast is so filthy, and it's barely covering whatever wound is going on on the bottom of his foot. He bent down to pick something up and his casted leg swung up behind him, and I could see this gapping, oozing wound that was partially exposed and so infected. Yet we just play and walk around in the dust and dirt anyway, he doesn't complain. So much for infection control. We were playing with a basketball and he thought it was so cool that I could dribble the ball in a figure 8 around my legs. (Hey now, I have a few tricks up my sleeve from my athletic days!) The first time I did it he fell on the ground in a fit of giggles. It made me so warm and fuzzy. This other sweet girl, Claire, has been glued to my side since my second day. She has this beautiful, wide smile that she flashes when I say, "Jambo, Claire!!" Probably because she's half laughing at me for being a crazy "mzungu" (white person, or foreigner.) When I ventured into town so many people stared at me and said "Mzungu! Hi!" I haven't yet figured out if it's derogatory in nature, or if they're just stating the obvious. The very, very, very obvious.
Last night I finally rented a cell phone, and I decided to call the woman that I met on the plane ride from Nairobi to Eldoret. (The one that smushed me into her armpit to see the Somalian plane.) When I called she was so happy to hear from me. I called her as I was walking into town to find a Swahili/English pocket dictionary. She told me to stay where I was and that she'd come meet me and show me around. She picked me up and introduced me to some family members, then we went and had chai tea. After that she said she needed to pick up a few things for me at the grocery store. A few things turned into a cart full of groceries!! I kept saying, "Really, I don't need anything, they provide most of our meals." But she insisted that I have all of her favorite brands of bread, tea, wafers, juice, etc. She spent over 6,ooo shillings on me! That's somewhere around $60, which is a big honkin deal. So much money. I kept offering to help pay and she said, "No, no I am your Mama Chichi, you will not help." After that we met her family for dinner at a local restaurant. She started to order liver for me, and then remembered that I'd told her I don't eat meat when she'd offered to buy me meat at the store. So she said, "And for this one, the best vegetarian platter." Alllllll this food came out and it was so good! Beans, rice, a cole slaw kind of thing, a traditional kenyan food that's a mixture between a crepe and a pancake, I can't remember what it's called, and a ton of avocados. Avocados are sooooo cheap here, they grow everywhere. Chichi and her family couldn't believe it when I told them avocados are expensive in the US. During our meal the power went out, that happens a lot, and life just goes on. When the waitress brought out two candles and set them on our table, I said, "Oh, dinner by candle light, how romantic!" They all laughed. My Kenyan family is wonderful.
One more quick thing before I go to bed, I'm taking swahili lessons from a kookie Kenyan named Wyclef. So far I've had two lessons and I've learned greetings and some numbers. I remember at our first lesson he asked how I was adjusting and if I felt at home. He said it usually takes time for peoples' sleeping schedules to really sink in, and asked if I'd been sleeping well. Since he asked, I told him honestly that, no I really hadn't slept well yet. I've been doing sudoku at 4 in the morning when I still can't fall asleep, and all I can hear are the dogs barking. He replied, "Yes, yes, you can't sleep because the dogs are trying to sing in swahili. It's common, my dear." I like Wyclef, he's a keeper.
I have a running date with one of the guards from Eldoret tomorrow. He's hilarious and very warm and friendly to everyone. Let's see if I hold true to my blog name. I have a feeling I'm gonna be in for a rude awakening....
Kathleen
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Safe and sound in Eldoret
Well, after 3 days and over 30 hours of traveling, I finally made it here to Eldoret. I thought my knees might never straighten out again after being bent in 90 degree angles for so long. I met such interesting people on the planes. From Detroit to Amsterdam, I sat next to this crazy middle-aged women's studies professor from University of Washington. She's from India, and was heading back to Delhi to see family. She was a handful, and a seatful, let's be honest. I've never understood how some people are comfortable just spreading out and overflowing into someone else's space. There's so little room on a plane to begin with, at least TRY to stay in your own bubble! Her entire arm was literally resting on mine for the duration of the flight. And if I'd move around or anything, she'd just wait patiently with her arm suspended in midair until I settled back in, then she'd settle back in, right on top of me. She rambled about women's rights, the economy in Africa, and all kinds of feminist scholars that I need to get into contact with. I kept saying, "Yes, but will these people be interested in music therapy?" The answer was usually a long-winded, round about way of saying, No, not really, well maybe, but they're famous scholars so you should know about them anyway. She was entertaining, that's for sure. She was racing to beat the clock and hopefully see her mother who was dying. I really hope she made it in time to see her.
The Amsterdam airport is really neat. Gunta told me it's one of her favorite airports and that I needed to look around no matter how tired I was. So I putzed here and there a bit during my lay over. There are tons of shops and stores, and you can even rent a hotel room right there in the airport. They have these fancy massage chairs that are completely enclosed. They kind of look like one of those kids' virtual video game booths at museums. I didn't have any euros, and didn't want to exchange money to actually get a massage, I just really wanted to sit in this comfy-looking chair for a hot minute. I plopped down, leaned my head back to relax, then a few seconds later the machine started yelling at me. "PLEASE INSERT COINS OR VACATE THE CHAIR IMMEDIATELY." over and over and over again. This recorded voice was loud enough that people started looking. Jeez. So much for takin a load off in a comfy chair. During my flight to Nairobi I met this couple--he was from Sri Lanka and she was from the Philippines. They both live and work in Dallas, TX. I told them about my adventures and they were very supportive and encouraging. The guy said that when he was a young kid, volunteers came over to Sri Lanka and taught English and other vocational skills. He said that if they hadn't help to prepare him, he never would have left Sri Lanka and lived the life he's now thankful for in the states.
Customs, the visa process and all those shenanigans were actually not bad at all once I got to Nairobi. I was preparing to have my suitcase opened and underwear strewn (strone? strewed?) everywhere. But when I gave the man my form and started to lift my bag onto the table, he just waved me through and said, "Karibu," which means "Welcome" in Swahili. I spent the night in a hotel in Nairobi, it was nice to finally get a good night's sleep. The cab driver I met, Eddie, was wonderful. My first friend in Kenya. We were laughing and joking the whole way to the hotel. I was practicing some of the children's songs in Swahili that I've been working on (BUTCHERING them, of course) and he was laughing hysterically at me. He also gave me lots of practical tips about which cabs to avoid (so don't get into the one with the shady looking "TaXi" sign on a piece of wood duct taped to the roof of the run down, three-doored car?...ahhhh good to know.) He's also in a choir in Nairobi, and he said he'd love to have me join it! I'm finna sing in an African choir!! Who knew my audition would consist of singing kid songs in Swahili, terribly? Anyway, he said he could work out a way to pick me up in Eldoret for Saturday rehearsals and take me to Nairobi. Sounds awesome.
On the dinky plane from Nairobi to Eldoret, I sat next to this woman, Chichi. She was so kind. She's from Eldoret and has been there practically all her life. She was sitting at the window seat and I was in the aisle seat. We were talking and waiting for the plane to take off, and all the sudden she grabbed me around the neck and shmushed my face practically into her chest/armpit to have me look out the window. I didn't know what I was supposed to look at, and then I saw a small, extravagant plane with something to the effect of Somalia-Air or the like on the side of it. Behind the plane were lines of big jeeps and other protective cars. She told me that the President of Somalia was in that plane, and that's why we were having to wait so long to take off. Whoa. Anyway, she showed me pictures of her children and told me all the places I have to see in Eldoret. Then she gave me her contact info and said she plans to take her 3 children on a safari soon, and that I should come as her 4th child. So nice. She helped me with my bags, and then waited with me outside to make sure I had a safe ride into town. (Side note, it was pretty sweet being one of those people who has a cab driver waiting with a sign with my name on it...I felt like a baller. Shot caller. )
So now I'm in Eldoret!! The IU House-the dormish/hostelish place where I'm staying- is really, really nice. It's in a gated community with Kenyan guards. So far I've met Michael, he's hilarious and tells me not to go running too far, (I don't, MOM, don't worry :) ) and Philip. They both look like badass, mean guards, but then as soon as you say hi they crack this big smile and are super welcoming. And they have dogs!! Four of them at the gate, although, they're scrawny and ill fed, and I think they'd make terrible guard dogs if they were ever actually called to duty. BUT they gladly accept my affection every time I come in. There are four dogs, Chai, Toscar, and I can't remember the other two names yet, they're difficult to pronounce. I can only remember those two because one is tea, and one sounds like an opera. My roommate, Noffar, is an Internal medicine resident from Mt. Sinai in New York. I think we'll get along really well, she said she's glad to have some company. The first night I was here I met a group of med students. They were in the common room drinking beer and playing cards. Ahhhh, sweet familiarity! I hung out with them for awhile and played cards and "Apples to Apples." Pretty soon, guess who walked in to greet me...Sarah Ellen Mamlin!!! She welcomed me with open arms and brought me leftover Chinese food! It was so good to finally meet her. I've heard nothing but amazing things about the Mamlins. I think she'll be my main mentor here-she runs the Sally Test Pediatric Center that's located between the two peds units of the hospital. She's all about the emotional needs of hospitalized kids, and letting them play and just be KIDS. And her husband, Dr. Joe Mamlin is like, THEE man responsible for the entirety of this partnership that started back in the late 80's. The boss. The head honcho. The "it" guy. The live within the IU compound in a house just down the road. Sarah Ellen told me to show up at her house the next day, so I did. We sat on her couch and talked and talked, then they took me out to lunch at a local place in town (and out to dinner several hours later?! Shiesh, I'm lucky.) When we went into town Dr. Mamlin saw a patient of his sitting in a beat up wheelchair on the dusty road outside the restaurant we were going to. With one swift move he greeted her and invited her in to eat with us. Pretty soon, he saw another woman and her 12 year old daughter, so they came and ate with us too. I'm starting to understand why everyone says the Mamlins are amazing people. So far there have been lots of options for vegetarian food--curry type dishes with lentils and rice. Good by me!
Alright all, I think I better wrap this up. Man, I'm a newbie at blogging, I've written for the past 45 minutes and I haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet! I'll hopefully be able to make future blogs more concise and less rambly. Just know that I'm HERE, and I'm happy and getting adjusted, and meeting lots and lots of people, both Kenyans and Americans that are connected with the IU-Moi partnership. Woot woot!
That's all for now,
Kathleen
The Amsterdam airport is really neat. Gunta told me it's one of her favorite airports and that I needed to look around no matter how tired I was. So I putzed here and there a bit during my lay over. There are tons of shops and stores, and you can even rent a hotel room right there in the airport. They have these fancy massage chairs that are completely enclosed. They kind of look like one of those kids' virtual video game booths at museums. I didn't have any euros, and didn't want to exchange money to actually get a massage, I just really wanted to sit in this comfy-looking chair for a hot minute. I plopped down, leaned my head back to relax, then a few seconds later the machine started yelling at me. "PLEASE INSERT COINS OR VACATE THE CHAIR IMMEDIATELY." over and over and over again. This recorded voice was loud enough that people started looking. Jeez. So much for takin a load off in a comfy chair. During my flight to Nairobi I met this couple--he was from Sri Lanka and she was from the Philippines. They both live and work in Dallas, TX. I told them about my adventures and they were very supportive and encouraging. The guy said that when he was a young kid, volunteers came over to Sri Lanka and taught English and other vocational skills. He said that if they hadn't help to prepare him, he never would have left Sri Lanka and lived the life he's now thankful for in the states.
Customs, the visa process and all those shenanigans were actually not bad at all once I got to Nairobi. I was preparing to have my suitcase opened and underwear strewn (strone? strewed?) everywhere. But when I gave the man my form and started to lift my bag onto the table, he just waved me through and said, "Karibu," which means "Welcome" in Swahili. I spent the night in a hotel in Nairobi, it was nice to finally get a good night's sleep. The cab driver I met, Eddie, was wonderful. My first friend in Kenya. We were laughing and joking the whole way to the hotel. I was practicing some of the children's songs in Swahili that I've been working on (BUTCHERING them, of course) and he was laughing hysterically at me. He also gave me lots of practical tips about which cabs to avoid (so don't get into the one with the shady looking "TaXi" sign on a piece of wood duct taped to the roof of the run down, three-doored car?...ahhhh good to know.) He's also in a choir in Nairobi, and he said he'd love to have me join it! I'm finna sing in an African choir!! Who knew my audition would consist of singing kid songs in Swahili, terribly? Anyway, he said he could work out a way to pick me up in Eldoret for Saturday rehearsals and take me to Nairobi. Sounds awesome.
On the dinky plane from Nairobi to Eldoret, I sat next to this woman, Chichi. She was so kind. She's from Eldoret and has been there practically all her life. She was sitting at the window seat and I was in the aisle seat. We were talking and waiting for the plane to take off, and all the sudden she grabbed me around the neck and shmushed my face practically into her chest/armpit to have me look out the window. I didn't know what I was supposed to look at, and then I saw a small, extravagant plane with something to the effect of Somalia-Air or the like on the side of it. Behind the plane were lines of big jeeps and other protective cars. She told me that the President of Somalia was in that plane, and that's why we were having to wait so long to take off. Whoa. Anyway, she showed me pictures of her children and told me all the places I have to see in Eldoret. Then she gave me her contact info and said she plans to take her 3 children on a safari soon, and that I should come as her 4th child. So nice. She helped me with my bags, and then waited with me outside to make sure I had a safe ride into town. (Side note, it was pretty sweet being one of those people who has a cab driver waiting with a sign with my name on it...I felt like a baller. Shot caller. )
So now I'm in Eldoret!! The IU House-the dormish/hostelish place where I'm staying- is really, really nice. It's in a gated community with Kenyan guards. So far I've met Michael, he's hilarious and tells me not to go running too far, (I don't, MOM, don't worry :) ) and Philip. They both look like badass, mean guards, but then as soon as you say hi they crack this big smile and are super welcoming. And they have dogs!! Four of them at the gate, although, they're scrawny and ill fed, and I think they'd make terrible guard dogs if they were ever actually called to duty. BUT they gladly accept my affection every time I come in. There are four dogs, Chai, Toscar, and I can't remember the other two names yet, they're difficult to pronounce. I can only remember those two because one is tea, and one sounds like an opera. My roommate, Noffar, is an Internal medicine resident from Mt. Sinai in New York. I think we'll get along really well, she said she's glad to have some company. The first night I was here I met a group of med students. They were in the common room drinking beer and playing cards. Ahhhh, sweet familiarity! I hung out with them for awhile and played cards and "Apples to Apples." Pretty soon, guess who walked in to greet me...Sarah Ellen Mamlin!!! She welcomed me with open arms and brought me leftover Chinese food! It was so good to finally meet her. I've heard nothing but amazing things about the Mamlins. I think she'll be my main mentor here-she runs the Sally Test Pediatric Center that's located between the two peds units of the hospital. She's all about the emotional needs of hospitalized kids, and letting them play and just be KIDS. And her husband, Dr. Joe Mamlin is like, THEE man responsible for the entirety of this partnership that started back in the late 80's. The boss. The head honcho. The "it" guy. The live within the IU compound in a house just down the road. Sarah Ellen told me to show up at her house the next day, so I did. We sat on her couch and talked and talked, then they took me out to lunch at a local place in town (and out to dinner several hours later?! Shiesh, I'm lucky.) When we went into town Dr. Mamlin saw a patient of his sitting in a beat up wheelchair on the dusty road outside the restaurant we were going to. With one swift move he greeted her and invited her in to eat with us. Pretty soon, he saw another woman and her 12 year old daughter, so they came and ate with us too. I'm starting to understand why everyone says the Mamlins are amazing people. So far there have been lots of options for vegetarian food--curry type dishes with lentils and rice. Good by me!
Alright all, I think I better wrap this up. Man, I'm a newbie at blogging, I've written for the past 45 minutes and I haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet! I'll hopefully be able to make future blogs more concise and less rambly. Just know that I'm HERE, and I'm happy and getting adjusted, and meeting lots and lots of people, both Kenyans and Americans that are connected with the IU-Moi partnership. Woot woot!
That's all for now,
Kathleen
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Testing, 1, 2, 3? Is this thing on?
Hello, all!
My new adventures with a blog have now begun. My new adventures in Kenya are soon to begin. I fly out this Wednesday: Indy to Detroit to Amsterdam to Nairobi to Eldoret...whoa. Two full days of travel. Right now we have tons of family in town- I'm so honored people would spend their time and energy traveling to Indy to spend some quality time as a family before I go. Highlights have included: lots and lots of play time with Caroline (my niece) and Garrett (my nephew), a family photoshoot by the fabulous Caitlin Morgan, walks and talks, a Kenyan Carnival at 2nd Pres for the Umoja Project fundraiser, and a 4 mile race in Broad Ripple (mandatory for my mental health, thank you very much). All of this, of course, was punctuated by periods of panicked list-making, packing and re-packing.
The official countdown to Kenya is 3 days!
My new adventures with a blog have now begun. My new adventures in Kenya are soon to begin. I fly out this Wednesday: Indy to Detroit to Amsterdam to Nairobi to Eldoret...whoa. Two full days of travel. Right now we have tons of family in town- I'm so honored people would spend their time and energy traveling to Indy to spend some quality time as a family before I go. Highlights have included: lots and lots of play time with Caroline (my niece) and Garrett (my nephew), a family photoshoot by the fabulous Caitlin Morgan, walks and talks, a Kenyan Carnival at 2nd Pres for the Umoja Project fundraiser, and a 4 mile race in Broad Ripple (mandatory for my mental health, thank you very much). All of this, of course, was punctuated by periods of panicked list-making, packing and re-packing.
The official countdown to Kenya is 3 days!
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