Half way there, ooooh oh livin’ on a prayer…

I am halfway through my stay here in Kenya. Some days I feel I left home years ago, and other days it seems just like yesterday. I have a feeling the next six months are going to fly by. Here is a random sampling of things I've learned the past six months. ( In no particular order)

1. Nobody is ever in a hurry. It doesn't matter if someone is dying or you're an hour late for a meeting. Nobody rushes to do anything.
2. Human life is less valued compared to home. When somebody dies, the common consenus is,
" It was her time." My reaction, "She was six months old! I think she deserved to live a bit longer!"
3. Kenyans are terrified of chameleons ( which are harmless). They would rather see a poisonous snake.
4. Words have different meanings. The word 'sweet' is synonymous with 'delicious'. People describe everything from meat, to carrots, to beans as being 'sweet'. The word 'smart' is synonymous with 'beautiful'. When I wear a dress people comment, "Oh, you look so smart today!"
5. People believe all Americans carry a gun, have two children, are rich, and are tall.
6. Television and the the internet are overrated. Yes, when you're on the other side of the world internet makes communication easier, but other than that it's a time waster. I now have so much more time to do other things since I'm not on Facebook or watching TV shows.
7. Less is more.
8. Life isn't fair.
9. The most beautiful sunsets occur in Karungu.
10. I'll answer to any of the following names: Loreeeeeen, Christine ( I'm often confused with the other volunteer), Obama, Akinyi (Luo word meaning woman born in the morning), Muzungu ( Swahili for white man), Ciao ( due to the large number of Italian volunteers)

Kevin, Collince, and Sharon

“Eat your dinner. There’s starving children in Africa.” We’ve all heard that line. We’ll let me put a name and a face with those children. Their names are Kevin, Collince, and Sharon. They are some of those starving kids and there are millions more just like them.
These siblings were brought to the hospital by a social worker. She filled me on their story. Apparently they were living with an alcoholic father who neglected them. Dad kicked the mother out of the house so she now lives in a different part of the country. All they had been eating was maize from neighbors’ farms. And Kevin, the 8 year old, stopped going to school so he could take care of his two younger siblings. Can you imagine a second grader in America dropping out of school to take care of his family?!
They came from the Children’s Ward for chest x-rays one morning. They patiently waited while their x-rays were taken. None of them made a sound. They just sat in a daze, too weak to really do exert any energy. I looked at these kids and wondered when the last time they had eaten. They were wasting away with distended bellies and stick thin arms and legs. Chigger bites covered their legs, the result of sleeping on a dirt floor every night with no covers. These are the faces of the starving children in Africa! All they need is some food and some love!
So for the next week they stayed at the hospital receiving food, medicine, and some TLC. Sharon, the tiny 3 year old, and I became pretty good friends during her stay. She just wanted to be held, something that she’s probably never experienced in her life. The first day she arrived she threw up all over me because her stomach didn’t know what to do with all the food it was receiving. I’ve never seen so much vomit come out of somebody so little. And by the end the week she referred to me as her, ‘Obama Mama.’ (Obama is synonymous with American here in Kenya.)
Collince, was the most malnourished out of the three kids, and he also started treatment for TB. He’s the most selfless 5 year old I have ever seen. One morning I was sitting with them as they ate breakfast. They each had a chuck of bread and some tea. Every tiny crumb that fell into their lap was scooped up and eaten. There was one remaining chuck of bread. Collince took is and split it in half and gave a piece to both of his siblings. This child is literally starving, and he’s giving the little food he has to his siblings! Wow.
By the end of their stay all three of them were bouncing off the walls, causing trouble around the hospital. A welcomed site compared to the condition they were brought to the hospital in. It’s amazing what a little food and love can do. They left with the social worker and hopefully were placed with a relative or foster family.

The Fishermen

Every night Lake Victoria is illuminated from the lanterns of the fishing boats. The fisherman use the light to attract bugs to the water's surface which subsequently attracts fish that are then caught in a net. Hundreds of white lights flicker like Christmas lights. It's gorgeous; but that is the only beautiful thing about the fishing industry here in Karungu.
Here is the "dark side." The fishing industry draws men from all over the country to the lake to try to earn a living. They leave their homes, wives, and children to come here. In order to stay awake for a full night of fishing they often take illegal drugs to keep them going. This leads to addiction. Along with the drugs they are also involved in immoral sexual behaviors, since most of these men stay away from their families for long periods of time they look for casual sexual relationships with prostitutes. This only contributes to the spread of HIV/AIDS in the region.
Fishing is dangerous. The boats that are used are old and leaky. Every boat has one man it whose sole responsibility is to bail water out of the boat all night long! Most of them don't know how to swim. They go out every night even during the rainy season where big storms with thunder and lightening last all night long.
The fish caught from the lake are exported to other parts of the country. Big companies buy the fish at rock bottom prices from the fisherman, just to turn around and jack up the price and sell it to people in other parts of the country that have money. These prices are too high for the majority of people here. It's insane that the people closest to the lake cant afford to buy the fish.
Those twinkling lights on the lake don't look so pretty anymore.

I Love Orphans!

I love orphans! Well, it stinks that they are orphans in the first place but these kids are amazing. The 60 kids at Dala Kiye (Luo words meaning ‘orphan home’) are the most resilient kids I have ever met. All of them are HIV positive, and have horrendous stories of what their life was like before coming to the orphanage. Some of them were ‘half orphans’, and lived with the surviving parent who was also infected and too sick to care for the child. Others are ‘complete orphans’ and lived with a grandmother who was too old to care for them. Most of them were neglected, malnourished and not on ARVs (antiretrovirals). Most of them came to the orphanage after being treated at the hospital. The reality is that if these kids were not at Dala Kiye they would probably be dead. Since coming to the home their lives have changed completely. They eat, receive medications, go to school, and now have 59 other brothers and sisters. I often forget they are HIV positive because they are so healthy and active, but every evening at 7pm I am reminded of it when all playing comes to a halt and they go take their meds.
Here are some of my favorite photos of the kids.

Tony and Mercy



Sunday afternoon at the lake

Simion and his soccer ball.

Not all of Africa looks like this...

What comes to your mind when you think of Africa? Mud huts with thatched roofs? Naked children with distended bellies? Nala and Simba? Elephants, zebras, and giraffes? Women with babies on their backs, carrying a load on their head? Nelson Mandela? Oprah? Angelna Jolie? HIV/AIDS? Malnourished kids picking through the trash dump?
Many of these descriptions are a part of my life here in Karungu. A typical home is made of mud. Children do have big bellies. Women carry everything imaginable on their heads. HIV/AIDS effects about 75% of the patients at the hospital. Here, kids die of starvation. My mother always told me to finish my dinner because there are “starving children in Africa.” I see those starving kids die.
But this in no way represents Africa as a whole. This is my own personal experience, in one small part of Africa. I don’t people to think that all of Africa looks like Disney’s The Lion King. In an eight hour drive I can make it to Nairobi where people live in mansions, work in high-rise office buildings, and drive Mercedes. All of America doesn’t look like New York City, just like all of Africa doesn’t look like Karungu.
One of my favorite conversations to have with people is about homelessness. Sounds kind of strange but its true. People here have a hard time believing that there are homeless people in America. They have a hard time believing people sleep on the streets and go hungry. They think all of America looks like the movies. It's a common belief here that everyone in America is fat, rich, and has two kids and a dog.
Don't believe the stereotypes.

Aging in Kenya

It’s tough getting old. If you think its tough aging in America listen to this story.
A few days ago we had a patient named Dorcus Atieno. (Yes, her name was Dorcus! …that is really the only funny part of the story) She claims to be born in 1911, meaning she is 98 years old. I find this extremely hard to believe, most people don’t know their exact date of birth so they just make up a random year. Considering the average life expectancy in Kenya is 47, I have seen very few patients over the age of 70. Dorcus looked old, wrinkled, and feeble but not 98 years old.
She had fallen at her home on Rusinga Island, in Lake Victoria and was brought to the hospital by her daughter, also very old looking. She came to the x-ray department sitting in a wheelchair. The doctor ordered a hip x-ray on her. She was unable to stand so I scooped her up, all 70 pounds of her, and laid her on the table. She didn’t complain once as I positioned her for the x-ray, not a peep. The x-ray showed a fractured right hip and a fractured left ischium, the bone you sit on. I’ve never see somebody with a crushed hip joint and ischium sitting upright in a chair! Ouch!
Anyway, I inquired more about how she got the hospital. They certainly don’t have “911” in Kenya! How does somebody living on an island get to the hospital with two pelvic fractures!? She took a boat to the mainland and from there she took a taxi, at least a 3 hour drive, to the hospital. I can’t imagine being tossed around in a car with a broken hip for hours! At least she didn’t come via motorbike!
Her story doesn’t have a “happily ever after” ending. An orthopedic surgeon didn’t come and put her back together like Humpty Dumpty. There was little that could be done for her no matter where in the world she was. Ideally, she needed an operation but with somebody her age (whatever age that is!) it’s too risky to give her anesthesia. I don’t think her heart could have handled it, and her bones were so demineralized they would have never healed properly. Dorcus, was given some pain medications and sent on her way after a few days.

Can I have your....

“Muzungu(white man), give me money!” I hear this phrase on a regular basis. Most of the time little children yell it as I walk down the street. Most likely it’s the only words of English they know. That is just one thing people have asked me for. Here is a short list of other requests I have received since arriving in Kenya:
-Will you pay for my school fees?
-Give me some sweets
-Will you sponsor me to get to the US?
-Will you ask your friends in the US if they want me to be their house maid?
-Will you marry my son? He’s HIV negative and has a college education.
-Can I have your shoes, watch, shirt, skirt, earrings, hair band, pen, camera, etc.?
-Can you donate blood for me?
-Will you give money to my church?
-Can I use your phone to call home?
-Will you pay my hospital bill?
Pretty much anything I have people want. Usually when people ask me for something they tell me a sad story to go along with it. Their husband died and they are left to raise six kids on their own. Their wife died in the postelection violence last January. They had to sell some of their belongings just to transport their family member to the hospital. Their father was killed in the Kenyan army. Some of the time I believe their story but other times I can tell they are making it up.
It’s a sticky situation to be in. Yes, I come from a wealthy country, but just because my skin is white doesn’t mean I am Donald Trump or Bill Gates. I try to explain that I am volunteering for the year and not an employee of the hospital. On the other hand, I have more money than these people will earn in a lifetime. Some people I really would like to help out. They legitimately need the money and would put it to good use. But the principle of the matter is, if I give money to one person I have to give it to everyone. How do I be fair without being stingy? Do I give and not count the cost?