"Your assumption are your windows on the world. Scrub them off every once in a while, or the light wont come in." -Isaac Asimov
What a surprise, I find myself going back to Kenya. Just
kidding! Traveling to Africa has become such a normal part of my life I keep
forgetting I have a day and a half journey ahead of me.
This time I will be back for only a short period of time :( Unfortunately
I have this thing called work and school back in Baltimore. I can’t believe it,
but I find myself wishing I was moving back here. However, even if it’s for a
short period of time, I am overwhelmed with excitement to continue my global
health work, see my friends, and of course see Tyson.
I have seen this hashtag making its way around social media called #whatthemediadoesntshowyou. I am absolutely inspired by it! The point is to show all the beautiful sides of Africa. So my goal for these short weeks is to focus not on what you already know about this country, but, show you a glimpse of what the media doesn't show you.
A young man is walking along the ocean and sees a beach on
which thousands and thousands of starfish have washed ashore. Further along he
sees an old man, walking slowly and stooping often, picking up one starfish
after another and tossing each one gently into the ocean. “Why are you throwing
starfish into the ocean?,” he asks “Because the sun is up and the tide is going
out and if I don’t throw the further in they will die.” “But, old man, don’t
you realize there are miles and miles of beach and starfish all along it! You
can’t possibly save them all, you can’t even save one-tenth of them. In fact,
even if you work all day, your efforts won’t make any difference at all.” The
old man listened calmly and then bent down to pick up another starfish and
threw it into the sea. “It made a difference to that one.” - Loren Eiseley
I think of this quote often and how much it has applied to
my life. I didn’t think I would be writing a blog post any time soon, but, I constantly
find myself involved in my previous work abroad. With all the perspective I have
gained abroad, it is impossible for me to let it go. I am constantly thinking about the people I have
met, the issues I have faced and the lives I had the opportunity to be a part
of.
Leaving for Kenya I had ambitious goals. Frankly, I never
thought I would change the world but I wanted to impact as many people as I possibly could. However, after time you realize the issues many countries face are deep
rooted in history, ingrained in their culture, a perpetuated by complacency, lack of
education,or poverty.
I didn’t know what my mission was there. In fact, many times
I felt defeated, but, if you followed my story you probably knew before I did…
Tyson was my mission. He is my little starfish.
As all you know I am back in the states, but, Tyson
continues to be a huge part of my life. He still attends school at Maisha and
is now involved in their choir. He is thriving there and I can confidently say
if he stays at Maisha he is going to become such a brilliant and beautiful person.
God bless Maisha and everything they have done for him.
Since I have been back Tysons story has gained much attention
from CMMB as well as others across the United States. I think people tend to be
attracted to his story because it’s sparks the humanity within us. It gives us perspective
on health care, abandoned children and poverty within the developing world. I
can talk all day about topics such as this but I can hardly do it justice.
Recently, I found myself, like I always do, talking to a
good friend about Tysons story. She was very moved by his life. I think
people often wonder, how could so much fight, spunk and determination be wrapped
up in a little six year old? We got to discussing his life more in-depth and the
thing we realized is that Tysons story is not unique, inadequate health care
and child abandonment plague developing countries. As a film writer and movie producer she felt
moved and inspired to shed light on these issues.
Tysons story is a story that needs to be told, not because it’s
unique but because it’s not. Children all around the world are abandoned for
reasons such as war, poverty, or instability. Rebecca (my friend) has decided
to write and direct a film named TYSON to bring awareness and give us perspective
on health care, abandoned children and poverty within the developing world.
Please check out this short clip of the upcoming film above. In order for shooting
of this film to occur she is trying to raise $5,000 so please help. Please help
raise awareness on inadequate health care, child abandonment and poverty. Please consider joining the TYSON campaign. Tyson is just one starfish in a sea of children. Lets come together and help as many starfish as we can.
Photos promoting the TYSON campaign. Follow the film on instagram at #tysonthefilm
“Here there is any convenience you can imagine. Water
running from every tap, hot and cold as you wish; lights at the flick of a
switch, day and night, no need for oil lamps; ovens to cook on that don’t need anyone
to go fetch gas cylinders from the bazaar. Here everything is so modern one can
even find food ready cooked in packets.
When I stand in front of my window and look out, I see tall
buildings, long roads full of vehicles moving in orderly lines, neat green
hedges and lawns, and tidy pavements to walk on. I close my eyes and for a
moment I am back in my village—high snow topped mountains, green waving fields and
fresh blue rivers—and my heart smiles when it looks the people of swat.” –Malala
Yousafzai
I have been back home in the United States for three months
now, I have been meaning to write and publish this post for some time. However,
something in me couldn't get myself to write this post. In a way I feel like it
is my last goodbye and putting a close to this chapter of my life in Kenya.
The last photo I took in Kenya. A wall painted with
Obamas face.
Volunteers often say it is more difficult to adjust when
coming home then it is going into the field. I would have disagreed... at
first. Between my continued involvement in Maisha, job search, apartment search
and phone plans, my days went from the slow pace Tabaka lifestyle to earth
shattering speeds. Initially I was disoriented and lost in the world of
technology and convenience. I had little time to think. In a short 72 hours I went from being in a dusty
little village waking up to the sunrise, to my family’s home in Oklahoma City equipped
with everything I have missed over the past year and more.
Back in the United States working with my Maisha Boys.
I don't know if I'm giving a pep-talk or scolding someone.
Wecliff and Steven.
Maisha Banquet.
American food!!!!
Enough said!
Chipotle!
Once I got home it was great seeing friends. However, after some
time passed I began to realize how much a year can really change a person, both myself and friends included. As
for my family, they are amazingly supportive of my passion for global health
and for that I am incredible thankful.
Missed my friends.
Family American football game.
My Parents dressed up for Halloween.
Within a month of my return I was offered a position at The
University of Maryland Medical Center as a multi-trauma shock trauma nurse. So like
I said, at first I had very little time to think about the experience I just
had. I was lost in the land of multidisciplinary rounding, IV pumps and alarms .
Oh boy... it was reverse culture shock. UMMC being a nationally recognized
teaching hospital we get some of the sickest of the sick. In my few months here
I have NEVER had to make a decision based off of finances or lack of resources.
NEVER once have I had to take oxygen off of a patient to give it to another or deny apatients potential live saving medicine because
of their personal finances. UMMC you could say is the epitome of modern
medicine, with a bottomless pit of resources. Tabaka could sustain its self for
years if they received even a fraction of UMMCs funding. It’s incredible how
much money and manpower the health industry has in the United States. Expensive
medicines, repeat labs, drips, multidisciplinary teams, state of the art
facility, and the newest technology.
You may think I make these comparisons because I resent American
health care. However, I make these comparisons because I DO NOT! Often I
feel volunteers look at our system and compare it to developing countries and
end up resenting the United States. But I ask you, wouldn't you want this level
of care for your family? Wouldn't you want this level of care for people worldwide?
I don’t hate our PRIVLIAGED Health Care system, however, all I know after working
at Tabaka, UMMC is just a blatant reminder of the health disparities worldwide.
In addition to working in Baltimore City, I now live here. I
don’t know why I picked this god-awful city! As a die hard Steelers fan I now find
myself living right next to the Dirty Birds stadium. It’s a rough life being a Steelers
fan in Raven territory. Again, it’s completely
different than Tabaka. Instead of listening to chickens I hear car horns and
sirens. When I look up at the sky I no longer see stars but the city lights. I
can’t say I hate living in Baltimore but it’s defiantly an adjustment.
Go Steelers!
Finally as for Tyson. He is still at Maisha. No one, not
even children services has come looking for him. It’s a blessing in disguise!
He is in middle class (second year of kindergarten… they have three years of kindergarten…
don’t ask me why). At first I was very worried how he would adjust moving away
from his village and tribe, but time and time again Tyson continues to prove
his resilience. He is now fluent in Kisii, Luo and Kiswahili. He is currently
learning English. He still remains ornery and for a while we had some trouble
concerning obedience. When Tyson first started school his head teacher would
often call me saying “your boy is very naughty, what will I do about your boy”.
However, his behavior has improved immensely
now that he has structure and discipline. Living right on the lake Tyson has developed
a love for fish. He also has a group of friend (who he bosses around) and loves
football and painting. Tyson and I speak
about once a month. Our conversations usually consist of me telling him to behave,
and he interrogating me on when he can come to America. Our conversations
always end with tears, I love you’s and me threatening him to be a good boy!
I love our talks!
Tyson and his friends!
Whats not to love about this face? He looks happy and healthy.
My experience in Kenya was truly blessing on a personal
level. I met amazing people, fell in love with Tyson, and gained a better
understanding of world health. I vividly remember a fellow volunteering asking
me if I would be fulfilled after serving a year abroad. I know now the
answer, no! It was by far the hardest
experience I ever had but I’m already ready to do it again. My experience with
CMMB was truly amazing and has really made me consider a change in my career
path. Because of my love for global health I will be applying for Graduate Studies
in Public Health Global Health.
To everyone who read my blog, thank you! To everyone at home,
thank you! To my friends, thank you. To my parents thank you for your support
and willingness to grow a little more grey hair because of me! Most importantly
to my Kenyan friends, coworkers, brothers, sisters, fathers, and fellow CMMB
volunteers, thank you. I loved living, working, learning, laughing and crying
with you. Not a day goes by where I don’t think of you! Asanti, Nakupenda Sana!
*** Sorry I wrote this post a few months ago and never posted it***
"Love is like Malaria"
Ugh… im having such a difficult time writing this post! I
have started, deleted and restarted this post several times. How can I possibly sum of my experience in a few paragraphs? The answer is I cant! What can I possibly say to make my readers
understand how incredibly complex and multifaceted Kenya is. My experience was incredibly rewarding and challenging at times, exciting and repetitive at others and lastly frustrating and surreal. I guess a few mysterious and insightful words
I can leave you with is “Love is like Malaria”. Those are the words of a young
Kenyan child. “Love is like Malaria”, I have been pondering its meaning for long
time, and I think finally I have the insight to understand it.
Over the past year I have had so many experiences that not
only challenged me, but pushed me beyond anything I thought I was EVER capable
of.I didn’t realize a year ago when I
landed in Kenya the amount of courage and strength it would take to just step
off that plane and begin this new journey of my life. I was so scared and so
unsure of what was to come of my volunteer work. It was much harder than I ever
expected, however, once I finally opened my mind along with my heart I was able
to let myself go. I found courage, strength, inspiration and love in this
country, particularly in places I would never expected it. I have a million
stories, and could probably go on for hours but I will leave you with a few
photos to describe my final days here.
Unexpectedly I fell in love with this country, and the
people. When you love something its incredibly hard to let it go. Some would
even say I have caught the BUG for aid work. I agree completely, I LOVE it.
I have finally come to an understanding of the term "love is like malaria" because you never know when you are going to catch it.
I was in complete denial my last few days.
I tried to work as much as possible.
One of my last days at work .
Trying to get my last taste of e coli.
Just kidding... but not really!
I also attending several of our local church services
just to see the Tabaka children dancing.
Had about a million photo secession with everyone!!
More love from my friends.
Spending as much time with my little Tyson.
Please note we are in church! This ornery booger
refuses to look, watch, or listen to mass.
More Bre and Tyson love before we set off
to Kisumu. Time to get this boy enrolled in school!
My coworks had a going away party for me.
I was so flattered and embarrassed!
Its not a party in Kenya unless you have Crest
and Stoney Soda.
In Kenya, at a party it is tradition to have all the guest
stand up and say something nice about you.
There are gifts involved too! Please note my lovely Kanga.
Dr. John Ogot and I. One of my favorite
doctors to work with!
My bestfriend! Father Gabby. I would have
been completely lost without him, The kindest
man i have ever met in my life!
Big day is here! We are finally going to school!
On the ride up to school. Going to Kisumu! Tysons
first time in a car and out of his village.
Saying "see you next year" to my sponsor family
in Kisumu. My Kenyan family!
We too had a party. Complete with soda and cake!
Tysons first day of school! My little boys
in middle class. Naturally I cried... he did too
when he found out he had to stay in class and behave
all day.
My last day with Tyson! The
saddest and happiest moment of my time here.
I am leaving my boy who I love so much but leaving him
"Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart." -Winnie the Pooh
Woah woah woah, my days are flying by, or, as the Kenyans
would say, the days are really running. I’m leaving so soon and I can’t believe
it. Where has a year gone? I have been extremely busy so I will make this blog
post short. Before I write my goodbye post I need to fill my readers in on my little friend Tyson.
If you can’t remember, Tyson is a little boy who was
admitted into TMH January 1st of this year. He was comatose at the
time of admission and was suffering from Malaria, Meningitis and severe anemia.
This child almost died he was so sick. However, ten days later he recovered. After fully recovering he was discharged,
however, his family was unable to pay the hospital bill. A few days went by where
Tyson and his mother were staying in our pediatric ward as discharge ins. Then,
one day Tysons mother disappeared. With hope and reason to believe Tysons
mother would return, Tyson was kept in the ward. However, Tysons mother never
returned, still to this day.
Tyson in his hospital clothes.
Ten months later Tyson is still in our ward. Tyson has been
abandoned at my hospital after nearly dying. To make the situation worse he had
no relatives that were willing to take him. In addition, our hospital administration
didn’t seem to be concerned that an uneducated five year old was living within
our compound without anyone to care for him or anyone to take him to school. Frustrated
and saddened by the situation, I took it upon myself to look for a solution to
this horrific situation this innocent and sweet boy had been placed in. For the
last 6 months I have been trying to have his guardianship transferred to the
children’s office in S. Gucha county and have him sent to Maisha International Academy
(the other organization I work with) to live at and attend school.
Tyson (the little one) and some of the
Staff workers children.
Childrens office.
To say it was difficult working with the bureaucracy here is
an understatement! I don’t have enough words to describe the amount of
obstacles and challenges Tyson and I have been through. I feel like I know everyone
and all of Kisii County because of this child. I have met with his chiefs, the
country commissioner, several social workers, police departments, and the head
of the children’s office to make his case known. The only positive thing about
meeting so many people is I got a lot of soda and tea out of each meeting. I
have traveled by matatu, motor bike and foot visiting several villages looking
for his parents. Finally after six months Tyson has received permission to
leave TMH and go to school at Maisha International Academy.
I will be going with my sweet little boy this
week to Kisumu. For the first time in his life he will be going to school. It’s
going to be a difficult adjustment for the both of us, since I have literally
been his guardian for the last ten months, but, I know Tyson will be ok. Me on
the other hand, I will probably cry for his first night away from me, his first
day of school and all the way home. I seriously need to get ahold of myself, I’m
becoming motherly!
"There were all kinds of stories about war that made it sound as if it was happening in a faraway place and different land. It wasn't until the refugees started passing through our town that we began to see that it was actually taking place in our country. The children of these families wouldn't look at us, and they jumped at the sound of chopping wood or as stones landed on the tin roofs flung by children hunting birds with slingshots. The adults among these children from the war zones would be lost in their thoughts during conversations with the elders of my town. Apart from the fatigue and malnourishment it was evident they had seen something that plagued their minds, something that we would refuse to accept if they told us all of it." -Ishmael Beah
To think I have been here almost a year and I am
no closer to making sense of this place; especially when it comes to topics
such as life, love and war.
My work in the hospital continues, our pediatric
charge nurse just recently returned from annual leave. With time and now
adequate staffing on my side I requested to transfer wards to seek out an area
of nursing I typically would not have the opportunity to pursue… theater.
Needless to say, working in an operating room in a resource constrained
community poses some difficulties. However, the conditions most patients
present with are equally if not more challenging. It almost always makes for an
interesting day.
Being here so long I have found a common theme
among the wards. We have patients who suffer from needless tragedies as well as
patients who make improbable recoveries, theater is no exception. For example a
couple weeks ago I had a man admitted with urinary retention due to Benign prostatic hyperplasia, or, an enlarged prostate. The man was in his fifties, strong and healthy,
definitely not a patient you would expect to die. The next day on doctor rounds,
I learned this man had literally dropped dead the evening before. As a
nurse you ask yourself, “What the heck?!”. When talking to the family and
clearing his bed it was discovery that five liters, yes five liters, of a local
herbs was being stored under his bed. He was taking it in addition to the
medicine being prescribed in the hospital. These local herbs are literally
toxic to the body causing loss of consciousness, kidney and liver failure. For
some reason unbeknownst to me, the people here believe it can cure anything!!
There is a continuous struggle of traditional medicine verses modern medicine.
Again, I have another patient die a preventable and tragic death. Although
there are tragedies that cannot be foreseen there are also miracles that cannot
be foreseen as well. In the same week I had a patient who was literally gutted
like a fish with a “panga” (machete). The young man suffered from a collapsed
lung, fractured ribs, a rupture spleen, and a fractured arm. Did I mention this
injury happened about 24 hours prior to admission? I hate to say it, but I
wasn’t too optimistic about his prognosis. However, a couple chest tubes, and
three surgeries later he walked out of my hospital as good as you can be after
an ordeal like that. Miracles and improbable recoveries are literally happening
before my eyes.
Theater
In addition to the work I’ve been doing in
Tabaka, I recently had the opportunity to travel to Rwanda for a wedding. It
has been two years since I have been to Rwanda and I was so excited to go back.
It was a very special trip for me for several reasons. One, because my good
friend Angel was getting married, and two, because this was the country that
not only solidified my love for volunteer work, but was also the country that
made me fall in LOVE with the East African community. So away I went, but, like
always not without trouble from immigrations. I won’t dwell too much on my
immigrations issues, I’m sure you can imagine what it was like after my last
horrifying experience. However, I have concluded one thing! No one, including
the immigration officers seems to know the Kenyan immigration laws. It’s quite
irritating to say the least.
Once I arrived safely to Rwanda I was
immediately greeted by masked men and women at the airport. Ebola checkpoint. I
was required to fill out a form asking where I lived, my profession and if I
was sick in anyway. CRAP, if these people were more diligent I should have been
stopped for more questioning. Where do you live? Kenya, red flag number one.
What’s your profession? Nurse, big red flag number two. Have you been around
any sick people within the last 21 days? Duh, of course… red flag number three!
Have you been sick in the last 21 days? Shoot, when am I not sick here, red
flag number 4!!! But, somehow after shooting their temperature gun at me I was
allowed to pass, no questions asked. What a relief, Angel would have killed me
if I missed her wedding.
One of the many Ebola warning signs.
The following day was her wedding! Now weddings
are a very funny thing in Africa. To me weddings always seem like more of a
business arrangement than a celebration of love. I can’t speak for my friend
Angel, however, in order to marry a lady in Rwanda and Kenya the families must
first meet and discuss quite literally what the wife is worth. The dowry system
is still commonly practiced here. Therefore, the man’s family must give the
bride’s family a cow or money so the couple can be married. Traditionally it
was cows. Now the younger generations are giving money. My friend Angel was
worth three cows. I often joke with men by asking how many cows I am worth. I
once got that I am worth ten!!!
During the dowry ceremony I had the honor of
being one of the bridesmaids. Like everything else in Africa the dowry ceremony
was a very slow, but an exciting process. It started first with the bride’s
family arriving along with the wife and the bridesmaids. Immediately we were
ushered into a back room, were we could not leave until the husbands family
arrived and was settled. So the waiting began. Once the husband’s family had
finally arrived, the bride’s family greeted them with handshakes and small
talk. If you know anything about Africans you know they are VERY friendly and
small talk can last for hours. Once greetings were exchanged and everyone took
their seats, the bride’s family sat on one side and the groom’s family on the
other. That seems pretty normal; however, there was a distinct difference from
the American way. They were facing each other staring directly at one another.
Now we were allowed out of the room. Like a row of ducklings baring gifts we
followed each other outside. You might ask what the gifts were for. In the
African culture each of your bridesmaids gives a gift to the immediate family
members of the groom. As if we were playing pewee soccer we followed each other
around the venue looking for the family members that were randomly seated among
the crowd.
After the gifts were handed out, the husband and
wife took their seats on what looked like a small throne. The groomsmen had
seats on the stage and the bridesmaids sat on the floor…Oh Africa. We were
given Fanta soda and drank while the bride and grooms family awkwardly starred
at each other. Next, three “cowboys” came and did a traditional song and dance.
Each “cowboy” represented the cow that was given to bride’s family. They sang
and danced about the cow’s personalities and what good fortune the cow would bring
to the family. Although I didn’t understand a word of it (since it was in
Kinyarwanda) I still really enjoyed it. Finally, the ceremony concluded with a
traditional African meal and the bride and grooms family drinking milk from a
gorge. The milk was from the cows of the dowry. It was very special to watch
both families drinking the milk together, representing the union of two
families.
My friend Nicolas and I before the wedding
Angel and her husband
The happy couple
Presenting the gifts.
Groomsmen and bridesmaids
The remaining days in Rwanda I was able to meet
up and collaborate with the organization We Are Limitless founded by a friend
of mine Matt Leutwyler and helped managed by Rebbecca Ocampo. Do you
really think I could go to Rwanda and not work? Two years ago Matt and I met in
Rwanda. At the time we were both volunteers, he was volunteering at Noel
Orphanage and I was volunteering at both Noel and Murara Health Clinic. Most of
the children are orphans as a result of HIV/AIDs or the genocide in 1994.
Seeing a great need for these children he established We Are Limitless
(WAL); a foundation that focuses on providing education to orphaned children.
Since then WAL has expanded into the Democratic Republic of Congo.
During my two days collaborating with WAL we
greeted the children in their sponsorship program in Rwanda. It was great
seeing these children because all of them I know from two years prior. It is
truly incredible to see how education can transform a person. On our last day
we crossed over into the Democratic Republic of Congo. We had to once again
endure more Ebola screenings and deal with the corrupt boarder control. I have
had my fair share of poverty and working in violent areas but immediately
crossing into the DRC I was overcome with this dark and ominous feeling. It is
literally the most daunting and heartbreaking place I have ever walked into.
The sky was dark, the earth was black from volcanic rock, and trash littered the
roads. Unlike the other African countries I have been to the children of the
DRC ran from me. I was not greeted with friendly smiles or children screaming “muzungu”,
instead I was greeted by a look of sheer terror and children holding machetes. UN and USAID trucks were
everywhere, my friend Rebecca worded the experience perfectly when she said
“Their presence makes me feel safe and conversely unsafe at the same time.”
Some of the child in the WAL sponsorship program
Lillian, Mary, JP and Emmanuel
For those of you who don’t know about the
history of Rwanda or DRC at the very least I can say it’s extremely dark and
plagued with violence. In 1994 within the span of 100 days 800,000 Rwandans
were killed. 200,000 raped, and 2 million fled the country. This period in history
is labeled the Rwanda Genocide, but within the recent years the country has
gained a substantial amount of stability and is now considered one of the
safest countries to travel to in Africa. As for the DRC it’s still a very
unstable country known for warlords, mineral conflicts and rebel groups. Just
last year much of Eastern Congo was occupied by the M23 rebel group. However,
in December of 2013 they signed a peace agreement. It would be ignorant and
naïve for me to say The DRC is now safe, but let’s just say it is a little bit safer
than it has been in the previous years.
Goma
Get in and get out was my goal. However,
the real goal was to look at a plot of land and meet with another
organization called CENOVI (Centre d’Education a la Non Violence), to discuss
the potential of building an orphanage,school,
and health clinic. Like Noel almost all of their children are orphans as a
result of war or HIV/AIDs. Although the country is less than ideal, it was a
great experience to give my input on the logistics of building a health clinic.
Children in the DRC
Children showing off their lollypops
Once I was back in Rwanda and had time to
reflect on my experience. I found it very hard to wrap my mind around the topic
of war. As a young American what tangible experience, short of 911, do I have
with war? Nothing. What does ethnic violence mean to someone who knows nothing
about tribal conflict? Up until a year ago I would have said nothing. With
certainty I can say almost everyone I have met in Rwanda and The Democratic
Republic of the Congo has been affected by war somehow, whether that be as the
perpetrator or as the victim. It’s an overwhelming thought and in a way it
serves me better not think too much about the heinous acts that occurred/occurs
in both countries. It’s a very difficult concept to understand what war does to
people. But when you see hundreds of orphans sleeping on the dirt floor of a
church nearly starving you begin to comprehend the ramifications it holds. It
breaks families apart, kills civilians, nurtures poverty and robs children of
their innocence, and that is just the beginning of it. I still can’t even grasp
it. My hope, after experiencing the devastating climate in Rwanda and the DRC
is that We Are Limitless can accomplish their goals.
CENOVI (Centre d’Education a la Non Violence)
The children of CENOVI (Centre d’Education a la Non Violence)
With my trip an emotional, yet successful
experience I headed back to Kenya. Yet again I was stopped to be screened for
Ebola. I received the same form and went through the same process of having my
temperature taken. However, this time they took note of my profession and
country hopping. Kid you not I was isolated for more questions. I guess I
passed the test because I am now back in Kenya safe.
