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