I met her in Ugunja on a sunny day, May 18th, sitting at a desk
We had only met once, but I knew her already
I mean I really believed I knew her
She showed me things, and told me to drop any expectations right away
It was the best advice I have received so far
We slept under mosquito nets and dipped our feet in basins when it was hot
For one week the moon shone so bright it illuminated everything, and it was amazing to look at. A few times we ate dinner outside - Wren & I loved it
At night after dinner we would brush our teeth outside and look up at the stars, which were burning so bright you could almost see the gas around them
Walking to town we would say the same things,
“I’m fine, how are you?” , “Look how gross my feet are today” , “I wonder if the internet is working today”, “I can’t walk, there is too much mud on my shoes”
We talked of making inter-continental shoes, which will happen one day
At night I would sing to her, and sometimes, she would grace me with a song as well
We would laugh about funny things, mainly having to do with people stereotyping us
“You people, buy tomatoes!”
“I would like to marry a white woman one day”
When I was sick she took care of me,
And she bought me chocolate when I was feeling sad one day
Sometimes we would talk in Southern accents, and it brought us much laughter
When it rained on our tin roof it was so loud you couldn’t hear anything
So we just lay on our beds looking up at the roof
We washed our hair in the rain, with the children staring at us in amazement from the opposite hut
We awoke to the same noises – either blasting reggae music, that crazy rooster, a lot of banging, or the children singing
We would dream about food, and when we weren’t dreaming, we were thinking about it, and when we weren’t thinking about it, we were talking about it
Days to Camunya were grand – real washrooms!
And our trips to Kisumu always brought forth challenges (gawkers, mud splashed on her skirt, crazy matatu people) and rewards (burgers, fries and scones!)
To everyone else she was known as Rain, or Ronnie (haha)
But to me she was little buddy and Wren Naomi Laing
She was a great friend
But more importantly she was my hut-mate, the only one I will ever have
And that is something I do, and will cherish forever
Oriti Wren, till next time…
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
What I am actually doing?
Lately this question has come up, so I will do my best to describe what nursing related things I am doing here in Kenya.
So the centre I volunteer at is a community centre that has an outpatient clinic, nutrition counseling, VCT, antenatal clinic, child welfare clinic, pharmacy and ... I think that's it.
I mainly work in the antenatal and child welfare clinics, which run on Monday and Thursday (lack of resources prevent these clinics from running everyday). Here, mothers will come in to get essential medicines like folic acid and ferrous sulphate (iron), along with malaria prophylaxis pills, deworming and tetanus toxoid injections (only when they are available, which isn't that often). The children come in to get weighed and given immunizations at the appropriate times.
What has fascinated me the most at the antenatal clinic is that all new expectant mothers who come in must get tested for HIV for the purposes of the prevention of mother to child transmission (PMTCT). This kind of transmission of HIV from mother to baby is the leading cause of pediatric HIV cases in Kenya, and perhaps in other parts of Africa as well. With most of the new mothers coming in falling between the ages of 17-24, the issue is very complex. Most women at this age have left school because they are pregnant, and are married because of their pregnancy. The issue lies in a lack of education, fear of stigma and discrimination, belief in misconceptions, and general lack of awareness of PMTCT.
What I am working on for my assignment (learning plan) is how to increase awareness about PMTCT for women of child bearing age, and especially those falling between the ages of 15-24. So far I have learned a lot about PMTCT, but the issue is so culturally embedded that it is hard for me to fully understand and make sense of. In additon, the nursing role is so different here that is it hard for my preceptor to fully understand where I am coming from and guide me in what I want to learn.
It is frustrating to not know what to do about something, or to feel that you can't really do anything about something because it is so heavily accepted as the way it is, or the way of life. But I am trying to stay true to who I am and what I have learned so far.
Anyways just wanted to give everyone an update. I'm sure if you come to the September international/outpost presentations you will hear more about what I learned/am still learning about PMTCT.
So the centre I volunteer at is a community centre that has an outpatient clinic, nutrition counseling, VCT, antenatal clinic, child welfare clinic, pharmacy and ... I think that's it.
I mainly work in the antenatal and child welfare clinics, which run on Monday and Thursday (lack of resources prevent these clinics from running everyday). Here, mothers will come in to get essential medicines like folic acid and ferrous sulphate (iron), along with malaria prophylaxis pills, deworming and tetanus toxoid injections (only when they are available, which isn't that often). The children come in to get weighed and given immunizations at the appropriate times.
What has fascinated me the most at the antenatal clinic is that all new expectant mothers who come in must get tested for HIV for the purposes of the prevention of mother to child transmission (PMTCT). This kind of transmission of HIV from mother to baby is the leading cause of pediatric HIV cases in Kenya, and perhaps in other parts of Africa as well. With most of the new mothers coming in falling between the ages of 17-24, the issue is very complex. Most women at this age have left school because they are pregnant, and are married because of their pregnancy. The issue lies in a lack of education, fear of stigma and discrimination, belief in misconceptions, and general lack of awareness of PMTCT.
What I am working on for my assignment (learning plan) is how to increase awareness about PMTCT for women of child bearing age, and especially those falling between the ages of 15-24. So far I have learned a lot about PMTCT, but the issue is so culturally embedded that it is hard for me to fully understand and make sense of. In additon, the nursing role is so different here that is it hard for my preceptor to fully understand where I am coming from and guide me in what I want to learn.
It is frustrating to not know what to do about something, or to feel that you can't really do anything about something because it is so heavily accepted as the way it is, or the way of life. But I am trying to stay true to who I am and what I have learned so far.
Anyways just wanted to give everyone an update. I'm sure if you come to the September international/outpost presentations you will hear more about what I learned/am still learning about PMTCT.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Freedom and Choice
So I was thinking about freedom and choice a few days ago, and here are my new perspectives from being in Kenya.
First of all I need to point out that I am the kind of person who loves to make food, and who obviously loves eating food. I don’t like eating the same thing twice in a day, simply for the fact that I like getting the most variety in my diet as possible. I don’t like eating leftovers, which my housemates from last year can verify. If I had a leftover of a meal I would often try to give it to someone else so I could make something different for myself. So I love variety of food.
Before leaving I would often go into supermarkets like Sobeys and Fortinos and think, “These places are huge, we don’t need this much food, why do we have all this food and some people have none?, no wonder obesity is so prevalent, etc”. I thought of how people in other parts of the world, like Africa I assumed, definitely didn’t have this much access to food. The consumerism of food is just so high in Canada, it is a little ridiculous.
Maybe you can pick up on my hypocrisy already…
My first week in Ugunja I had a drastic change in diet. I had ugali (corn flour mixture) kale (stringy green vegetable) and oily meat (chicken or beef) twice a day for 7 days. I ate it because it was the only thing available. I had no choice. For breakfast I would eat plain white bread with margarine, or fried dough called mandazi, or chipati. All of which are not that healthy, and food I would never choose to eat on my own at home. Again, I had no choice in this, it was what was given to me.
I began to miss food like brown bread, milk and general complex carbs (oats, flax, nuts, etc). I thought, “This really stinks, I love eating those healthy foods and now I don’t have access to them”. Eventually I did find that there was brown bread here, one loaf in the whole supermarket (which is as big as maybe half a regular sized Shoppers). I also found there was milk, however it only comes in flavours – like banana and strawberry, which contain a lot of sugar – but still it is milk.
Anyways, here is the crux of the matter:
1. I love variety in food
2. In Ugunja, there is little to no variety in food.
Hence my internal dilemma
So I began to think about freedom and choice. Why do I love variety of food so much? Because I was raised in an environment that allowed me to eat a wide variety of foods, I grew up in a house where my dad made different meals every day, therefore that became part of who I was, and who I am. I love baking – and this is because I have access to food, money to buy food, and a natural love for variety of food.
So then I thought about Kenya. Here, there is little variety, because variety means money, and most people do not have a lot of money. Food that is cheap is flour, kale, rice and small pieces of meat. There is fruit available, but it costs money, and if you need to choose between fruit and protein, obviously you will choose protein. So people in this environment are used to eating the same thing everyday, maybe twice everyday, and they don’t complain. That is how they were raised, and that is part of who they are here.
So then I began to feel bad – am I being selfish by not being able to adapt or fully accept the diet here? How can I make the transition from having full choice and full freedom in accessing a wide variety of foods to having no choice and no freedom in deciding what kind of food goes in my body?
What is freedom? Is freedom defined only by choice? It reminds me of the book 1984, where there is one word for everything. Can a human be happy with only one choice? I guess if they didn’t know of anything else, if they didn’t know there COULD be more choices, then yes you could be happy. But if you know, and you have experienced full freedom in choice, then is it even possible to fully adapt or fully accept an environment that gives you one choice?
Then there is the money. I was thinking that if the people in this community had more money, would they really spend it on having more variety of food? Would they buy fruit more often, or chocolate bars from the supermarket? Would they eat a different meal every night? I highly doubt it. Food isn’t a huge deal here. It is what gives your body energy, but that is it. Money is important for school, or health, or clothing, and some food.
I would say the people here are happy, because they have been living this kind of lifestyle for their whole lives. They don’t know of Sobeys and Fortinos, and frankly, I think most of them don’t really care.
I am trying my best to be accepting and not think about food so much. But I do realize that my love of food, in ways of cooking and baking, is a part of who I am. I know my stay here in Kenya is only temporary, and that thought it what makes it easier. I know I will return to Canada and enjoy a large variety of foods, because that inclination is just part of me, being raised in the environment I was raised in.
So those were my thoughts. What do you think?
First of all I need to point out that I am the kind of person who loves to make food, and who obviously loves eating food. I don’t like eating the same thing twice in a day, simply for the fact that I like getting the most variety in my diet as possible. I don’t like eating leftovers, which my housemates from last year can verify. If I had a leftover of a meal I would often try to give it to someone else so I could make something different for myself. So I love variety of food.
Before leaving I would often go into supermarkets like Sobeys and Fortinos and think, “These places are huge, we don’t need this much food, why do we have all this food and some people have none?, no wonder obesity is so prevalent, etc”. I thought of how people in other parts of the world, like Africa I assumed, definitely didn’t have this much access to food. The consumerism of food is just so high in Canada, it is a little ridiculous.
Maybe you can pick up on my hypocrisy already…
My first week in Ugunja I had a drastic change in diet. I had ugali (corn flour mixture) kale (stringy green vegetable) and oily meat (chicken or beef) twice a day for 7 days. I ate it because it was the only thing available. I had no choice. For breakfast I would eat plain white bread with margarine, or fried dough called mandazi, or chipati. All of which are not that healthy, and food I would never choose to eat on my own at home. Again, I had no choice in this, it was what was given to me.
I began to miss food like brown bread, milk and general complex carbs (oats, flax, nuts, etc). I thought, “This really stinks, I love eating those healthy foods and now I don’t have access to them”. Eventually I did find that there was brown bread here, one loaf in the whole supermarket (which is as big as maybe half a regular sized Shoppers). I also found there was milk, however it only comes in flavours – like banana and strawberry, which contain a lot of sugar – but still it is milk.
Anyways, here is the crux of the matter:
1. I love variety in food
2. In Ugunja, there is little to no variety in food.
Hence my internal dilemma
So I began to think about freedom and choice. Why do I love variety of food so much? Because I was raised in an environment that allowed me to eat a wide variety of foods, I grew up in a house where my dad made different meals every day, therefore that became part of who I was, and who I am. I love baking – and this is because I have access to food, money to buy food, and a natural love for variety of food.
So then I thought about Kenya. Here, there is little variety, because variety means money, and most people do not have a lot of money. Food that is cheap is flour, kale, rice and small pieces of meat. There is fruit available, but it costs money, and if you need to choose between fruit and protein, obviously you will choose protein. So people in this environment are used to eating the same thing everyday, maybe twice everyday, and they don’t complain. That is how they were raised, and that is part of who they are here.
So then I began to feel bad – am I being selfish by not being able to adapt or fully accept the diet here? How can I make the transition from having full choice and full freedom in accessing a wide variety of foods to having no choice and no freedom in deciding what kind of food goes in my body?
What is freedom? Is freedom defined only by choice? It reminds me of the book 1984, where there is one word for everything. Can a human be happy with only one choice? I guess if they didn’t know of anything else, if they didn’t know there COULD be more choices, then yes you could be happy. But if you know, and you have experienced full freedom in choice, then is it even possible to fully adapt or fully accept an environment that gives you one choice?
Then there is the money. I was thinking that if the people in this community had more money, would they really spend it on having more variety of food? Would they buy fruit more often, or chocolate bars from the supermarket? Would they eat a different meal every night? I highly doubt it. Food isn’t a huge deal here. It is what gives your body energy, but that is it. Money is important for school, or health, or clothing, and some food.
I would say the people here are happy, because they have been living this kind of lifestyle for their whole lives. They don’t know of Sobeys and Fortinos, and frankly, I think most of them don’t really care.
I am trying my best to be accepting and not think about food so much. But I do realize that my love of food, in ways of cooking and baking, is a part of who I am. I know my stay here in Kenya is only temporary, and that thought it what makes it easier. I know I will return to Canada and enjoy a large variety of foods, because that inclination is just part of me, being raised in the environment I was raised in.
So those were my thoughts. What do you think?
Monday, June 15, 2009
Kakamega Forest
Hello all! So do I have some stories for you...
On Friday morning (africa time) my hut-mate Wren and I ventured into the unknown. Destination: Kakamega Forest Reserve. So we left at 9:30am in a matatu (cube van converted to taxi service that transports a minimum of 20 people in a space meant for 14 : i'll leave you to imagine that). We went first to this junction place right before Busia (about an hour from Ugunja). Then we headed East to a town called Mumuias (known for it's sugar production). Then we went to Kakamega town. While we were waiting there Wren and I were approached by a few men who said "you're beautiful...I appreciate it". It is probably one of the best pick up lines I have ever heard. Nonetheless, it was creepy.
Then from Kakamega town we went to Shinyalu. While waiting for transportation another man started talking to us. He started with "I have feelings for you", and then progressed to "I would like to marry a white woman", to which I replied "Good luck with that" (I was proud of my witty comeback). Then, after more of his talking Wren jumps in with, "you know she is married", to which I replied "Yes, I am married". We then begun a fascinating story of how Wren and I were sisters who were both married, who had traveled here from Kampala, Uganda. My name was Melody, and hers was Stephanie. After travelling from Shinyalu to the forest via boda boda (aka riding on the back of a bicycle) we finally made it to our destination!
We stayed in these beautiful bandas, which are circular mud huts, with a really high thatched roof and a nice veranda. Very high class to us!
Around 430 we departed the bandas with our guide, Benjamin. He pretty much knows everything about the forest, it was amazing. We asked to go on a sunset walk, and he said that we would get to go to this viewpoint to look out on the forest as the sunset. That sounded great! Little did we know by "viewpoint" he actually meant small mountain. Definitely the hardest physical thing I have done in awhile. After climbing about 1200 feet, we rested on a platform and got to look out onto the forest. I can't really describe it in words except to say it was so beautiful. And that wasn't even the top! Benjamin led the way to the actual top of the mountain, another 500 feet. At some points the incline was so steep my knee was in my face.
But again, once we reached the top, it was breathtaking.
The next day we went for a river walk, which was about 5 hours. It was pretty nice, we saw some monkeys, cool birds, butterflies, and a plant that only blooms once every 13 years (weird!). Walking through the forest reminded me a lot of Canada, and walking through the forests in Hamilton. It was a nice flashback. For food we had bought peanut butter, jelly and bread, so we pretty much lived off that for the 2 days.
On the way back on Sunday we stopped off in Kisumu to get some money and other stuff. At the supermarket called Tuskie's I found the amazing thing - muesli! I have missed oats, bran, granola and overall complex carbs so much, so you can imagine my excitement! It was a great purchase. I also found the closest thing I could to granola bars, which also excites me greatly. Then Wren and I went to a nice restaurant for lunch where we both got chicken sandwiches and fries (for only $4 Canadian dollars). It was the perfect end to the weekend.
When we got back to Ugunja I found out that Beryl (one of the teens living on the compound) and her choir had advanced to the provincial finals! So I am going to see them next week and I am really excited. The music is so beautiful. I will take video to show you all!
Well that is all for me, I am just sitting in the UCRC library catching up on some school related work and listening to music. It has been a great day! Oh and also, this morning I met Obama's grandmother, the one that was flown in for the inauguration. It's okay to be jealous. Haha, no I'm kidding. She was very welcoming, but quiet at the same time - she gets so many visitors I am sure she is sick of it by now. But it was interesting nonetheless. She has massive security, 3 army tents worth! Definitely not living like an average Kenyan woman.
Oriti for now.
On Friday morning (africa time) my hut-mate Wren and I ventured into the unknown. Destination: Kakamega Forest Reserve. So we left at 9:30am in a matatu (cube van converted to taxi service that transports a minimum of 20 people in a space meant for 14 : i'll leave you to imagine that). We went first to this junction place right before Busia (about an hour from Ugunja). Then we headed East to a town called Mumuias (known for it's sugar production). Then we went to Kakamega town. While we were waiting there Wren and I were approached by a few men who said "you're beautiful...I appreciate it". It is probably one of the best pick up lines I have ever heard. Nonetheless, it was creepy.
Then from Kakamega town we went to Shinyalu. While waiting for transportation another man started talking to us. He started with "I have feelings for you", and then progressed to "I would like to marry a white woman", to which I replied "Good luck with that" (I was proud of my witty comeback). Then, after more of his talking Wren jumps in with, "you know she is married", to which I replied "Yes, I am married". We then begun a fascinating story of how Wren and I were sisters who were both married, who had traveled here from Kampala, Uganda. My name was Melody, and hers was Stephanie. After travelling from Shinyalu to the forest via boda boda (aka riding on the back of a bicycle) we finally made it to our destination!
We stayed in these beautiful bandas, which are circular mud huts, with a really high thatched roof and a nice veranda. Very high class to us!
Around 430 we departed the bandas with our guide, Benjamin. He pretty much knows everything about the forest, it was amazing. We asked to go on a sunset walk, and he said that we would get to go to this viewpoint to look out on the forest as the sunset. That sounded great! Little did we know by "viewpoint" he actually meant small mountain. Definitely the hardest physical thing I have done in awhile. After climbing about 1200 feet, we rested on a platform and got to look out onto the forest. I can't really describe it in words except to say it was so beautiful. And that wasn't even the top! Benjamin led the way to the actual top of the mountain, another 500 feet. At some points the incline was so steep my knee was in my face.
But again, once we reached the top, it was breathtaking.
The next day we went for a river walk, which was about 5 hours. It was pretty nice, we saw some monkeys, cool birds, butterflies, and a plant that only blooms once every 13 years (weird!). Walking through the forest reminded me a lot of Canada, and walking through the forests in Hamilton. It was a nice flashback. For food we had bought peanut butter, jelly and bread, so we pretty much lived off that for the 2 days.
On the way back on Sunday we stopped off in Kisumu to get some money and other stuff. At the supermarket called Tuskie's I found the amazing thing - muesli! I have missed oats, bran, granola and overall complex carbs so much, so you can imagine my excitement! It was a great purchase. I also found the closest thing I could to granola bars, which also excites me greatly. Then Wren and I went to a nice restaurant for lunch where we both got chicken sandwiches and fries (for only $4 Canadian dollars). It was the perfect end to the weekend.
When we got back to Ugunja I found out that Beryl (one of the teens living on the compound) and her choir had advanced to the provincial finals! So I am going to see them next week and I am really excited. The music is so beautiful. I will take video to show you all!
Well that is all for me, I am just sitting in the UCRC library catching up on some school related work and listening to music. It has been a great day! Oh and also, this morning I met Obama's grandmother, the one that was flown in for the inauguration. It's okay to be jealous. Haha, no I'm kidding. She was very welcoming, but quiet at the same time - she gets so many visitors I am sure she is sick of it by now. But it was interesting nonetheless. She has massive security, 3 army tents worth! Definitely not living like an average Kenyan woman.
Oriti for now.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
The circle of life....for serious
Hello all! So...it's been pretty hot here lately. I have no sense of what the actual temperature is, but it feels like 30, or maybe a little higher. Every day. It is a little crazy. I miss the Canadian climate. Actually, I just miss Canada a lot. What a great place. I don't think I could ever stand to live anywhere else for a longer period of time. 3 months, though it is short, still feels like too long to be away from Canada, my precious home. Right now I am craving pancakes for some reason. I would love some right now, with a large glass of cold milk. If I were on Survivor, and they played that game where you bargain for food - or give away things (not really sure how it works) - anyways I would give pretty much anything for a glass of cold milk. I am surprised at myself for missing healthy food more than I miss sweet things. But it is true, I really value eating really healthy foods and a balanced diet - and here where things are lacking, I get frustrated.
Also, I would like to stress the genius of washing machines. Never have I truly appreciated a washing machine until now. My clothes are filthy, which I am somewhat embarrassed to admit, but it is the truth. Washing takes so much energy and time, and I am always so tired at the end of the day from the hot sun and a probable lack of complex carbohydrates. A washing machine would be fantastic right now.
Anyways, the real point of my post was to talk about the circle of life. I know you all want to burst out into song, but I am actually serious. Yesterday a patient passed away at the health centre, and it was the first time I have been around when someone passes away. It was such a strange experience. I had not seen the patient, who was a woman, the whole day but I knew she was lying in a bed in the recovery room, and I knew she was sick because I could hear her moaning. However, at the end of the day around 420 she died. I was so stricken by the moment. She lay there lifeless and limp, like she was sleeping, but she wasn't sleeping. She had no life left in her, no oxygen. Her mother was there with her the whole time, and I watched her very carefully from afar. I watched her face, and at first she didn't cry. She was so strong. And then once, for a brief moment, I saw her put her hands over her eyes. Then later, she went to sit under a tree. I was overcome with the feeling to say something to her, to try to convey how much this had an impact of me, a total stranger. I approached her under the tree and said "pole" (po-lay) which is sorry in Luo. Her eyes were so sad, and it made me cry on the way back to the compound.
Later, after reflecting a bit on the event, I thought of how a nurse at the health centre, who had been my preceptor for 2 weeks before going on maternity leave, was in labour at that very moment. She had been in labour since Monday (over 30 hours) and should be giving birth any time now. So one had passed, and one was coming into the world. Never have I seen it so clearly. It was really interesting.
That is all I have to report for now. Tomorrow Wren and I are going to Kakamega forest reserve, which is a huge park area with different animals and trails to walk on. It should be exciting. Next week it is her birthday so I plan on baking her a chocolate chip cake...apparently it is possible! Anyways, hope you all are enjoying yourselves and the summer. June is flying by and soon it will be July. Enjoy :)
Also, I would like to stress the genius of washing machines. Never have I truly appreciated a washing machine until now. My clothes are filthy, which I am somewhat embarrassed to admit, but it is the truth. Washing takes so much energy and time, and I am always so tired at the end of the day from the hot sun and a probable lack of complex carbohydrates. A washing machine would be fantastic right now.
Anyways, the real point of my post was to talk about the circle of life. I know you all want to burst out into song, but I am actually serious. Yesterday a patient passed away at the health centre, and it was the first time I have been around when someone passes away. It was such a strange experience. I had not seen the patient, who was a woman, the whole day but I knew she was lying in a bed in the recovery room, and I knew she was sick because I could hear her moaning. However, at the end of the day around 420 she died. I was so stricken by the moment. She lay there lifeless and limp, like she was sleeping, but she wasn't sleeping. She had no life left in her, no oxygen. Her mother was there with her the whole time, and I watched her very carefully from afar. I watched her face, and at first she didn't cry. She was so strong. And then once, for a brief moment, I saw her put her hands over her eyes. Then later, she went to sit under a tree. I was overcome with the feeling to say something to her, to try to convey how much this had an impact of me, a total stranger. I approached her under the tree and said "pole" (po-lay) which is sorry in Luo. Her eyes were so sad, and it made me cry on the way back to the compound.
Later, after reflecting a bit on the event, I thought of how a nurse at the health centre, who had been my preceptor for 2 weeks before going on maternity leave, was in labour at that very moment. She had been in labour since Monday (over 30 hours) and should be giving birth any time now. So one had passed, and one was coming into the world. Never have I seen it so clearly. It was really interesting.
That is all I have to report for now. Tomorrow Wren and I are going to Kakamega forest reserve, which is a huge park area with different animals and trails to walk on. It should be exciting. Next week it is her birthday so I plan on baking her a chocolate chip cake...apparently it is possible! Anyways, hope you all are enjoying yourselves and the summer. June is flying by and soon it will be July. Enjoy :)
Monday, June 8, 2009
The Happy and the Sad
People have asked me what the most challenging thing has been since I came here. It is hard to say. I am constantly in a state of over-stimulation that it is hard for me to sort through my experiences and reflect on the day’s events. In three weeks I have seen so much, I have seen so many differences and many similarities. I will get back to this.
Personally, I don’t feel like I have changed that much. Perhaps I have grown a bit in patience and understanding, I have gained knowledge in certain areas – but who I am, the characteristics I had before I left – have not changed. I have realized that I have much to do with my life. A verse from the Bible says – to he has been given much, much will be asked. I think about that a lot. I think about how I can change parts of health care that I don’t agree with, or that I feel need improvement.
The hardest thing for me so far happened on Friday June 5. A woman, 21, found out she was HIV +. I was in the room sitting across the desk from her. I didn’t know what she was saying after she found out, but I didn’t have to know. I could empathize with how she was feeling, and it made me feel a little sick. She is my age. This could be me if I grew up here. How ridiculous. How unfair. How scary. I can see how easy it is to lose hope and faith for these women newly diagnosed. How can they ever face the fact they are positive? How does anyone live happily again? I don’t know. When I put myself in that position all I feel is fear and anger.
I am more interested in the counseling of HIV + people. Before I left for Kenya I met with two public health nurses working in the STI department in Waterloo Public Health. I think this is something I would like to do. It seems like we are so desensitized to HIV in Canada now, since we know about it and hear about it so much. But unless you have a face to put on HIV, you can’t really know or feel what it might be like.
However, to balance the sadness is also one of the happiest things that I have experienced thus far, and it comes in the form of a small girl named Filigona. She lives on the compound I am at, but her parents live elsewhere. I don’t know how to describe her other than the cutest girl I have ever seen. She has such a beautiful face and such a cute little laugh. I try to play with her as often as possible. She enjoys piggy back rides and the “airplane” (when you lift a child up with your two feet and hold their hands). She likes to play with my hair, or I should say put my hair in front of my face until I can’t see. She thinks the freckles on my arms are dirt so she picks at them, which is actually kind of painful, but still really cute. She rolls the “r” when she says “Kath-rine”, which is adorable, and she likes to touch my face. She makes me very happy, and she really makes me want to have a child of my own (don’t worry mom and dad, I know now is not the right time).
Anyways, that has been some highlights and lowlights. Many more to come…
Personally, I don’t feel like I have changed that much. Perhaps I have grown a bit in patience and understanding, I have gained knowledge in certain areas – but who I am, the characteristics I had before I left – have not changed. I have realized that I have much to do with my life. A verse from the Bible says – to he has been given much, much will be asked. I think about that a lot. I think about how I can change parts of health care that I don’t agree with, or that I feel need improvement.
The hardest thing for me so far happened on Friday June 5. A woman, 21, found out she was HIV +. I was in the room sitting across the desk from her. I didn’t know what she was saying after she found out, but I didn’t have to know. I could empathize with how she was feeling, and it made me feel a little sick. She is my age. This could be me if I grew up here. How ridiculous. How unfair. How scary. I can see how easy it is to lose hope and faith for these women newly diagnosed. How can they ever face the fact they are positive? How does anyone live happily again? I don’t know. When I put myself in that position all I feel is fear and anger.
I am more interested in the counseling of HIV + people. Before I left for Kenya I met with two public health nurses working in the STI department in Waterloo Public Health. I think this is something I would like to do. It seems like we are so desensitized to HIV in Canada now, since we know about it and hear about it so much. But unless you have a face to put on HIV, you can’t really know or feel what it might be like.
However, to balance the sadness is also one of the happiest things that I have experienced thus far, and it comes in the form of a small girl named Filigona. She lives on the compound I am at, but her parents live elsewhere. I don’t know how to describe her other than the cutest girl I have ever seen. She has such a beautiful face and such a cute little laugh. I try to play with her as often as possible. She enjoys piggy back rides and the “airplane” (when you lift a child up with your two feet and hold their hands). She likes to play with my hair, or I should say put my hair in front of my face until I can’t see. She thinks the freckles on my arms are dirt so she picks at them, which is actually kind of painful, but still really cute. She rolls the “r” when she says “Kath-rine”, which is adorable, and she likes to touch my face. She makes me very happy, and she really makes me want to have a child of my own (don’t worry mom and dad, I know now is not the right time).
Anyways, that has been some highlights and lowlights. Many more to come…
Thursday, June 4, 2009
I am different
Wow, so sorry I haven't written in a long time...life here has been crazy and hectic and frustrating and happy. First of all: my frustrations. Apart from the usual weirdness of using a hole in the ground as my toilet and being woken by the sounds of a crack-addict rooster and various other animal noises...is the internet and nutrition. Never have I apprecited high-speed, accesible internet like I do now. It is important for me to use email as a source of communicating with family and friends, but also to my clinical tutor back in Hamilton. This is essential so he knows what I am doing. However, the last week has been beyond frustrating with the internet. On Tuesday night I walked from the health centre to the internet place (20 minutes in the hot sun) only to find the network was down. So I decided to wake up early on Wednesday morning to walk into town to use the internet. When I arrived at 8am the internet was slow as mollases, then the computer froze, so I couldn't check anything. Then today, Thursday, I thankfully got a drive into town and finally I could use the internet. Though it may not seem like a huge deal, "suck it up katy, you spent 3 days without the internet when you really really needed it" - it is so frustrating. Add that to the fact that my cell phone died and my charger is broken so I couldn't contact anyone and no one could contact me. In a place so foreign contact with home is the only thing you want. I can deal with pretty much everything else, but not being able to contact people is one of the worst feelings.
Other than that rant, life here has been challenging and rewarding as always. On Monday Wren and I and two of the teens living on the director's compound (they aren't his kids, they just live there) went to the village of Rang'ala to visit an orphanage. I have never been to an orphanage before so this was totally new to me. The orphanage housed 40 children aged 0-4 years old. It is run by one of the most inspiring people I have ever met - Sister Henrietta. We were shown around and then got a chance to play with the children. It was such a great experience, and it is so clear to see how God is working through the staff at the orphanage. One of the most interesting peices of information Sister Henrietta told us was that most of the orphans were there because their mother died - however most of their fathers were still around. In this culture the role of the man as single father is non-existant. The men don't know how to take care of the children. It is upsetting. Nevertheless, Wren and I have decided to volunteer there once a week. The kids need so much love and attention which the small staff cannot provide all the time. It is sad to think they may not recieve such attention at all once they are discharged from the orphanage - but that is something huge to be tackled.
The title of my blog, I am different, is what I really wanted to write about. I never thought I would be discriminated against in my life. Living in Hamilton all my life I always felt like I fit in and that I had the same rights as everyone. No one ever tried to deny me those rights, and I never felt like people made false assumptions about me based on my skin colour. But now, being here 3 weeks, the discrimination has really started to settle in. To the kids it's like I am famous- they run from afar, sometimes through mud, to shake my hand. Once one kid yells "how are you" all the kids in the surrounding area yell it as well, even if you can't see them. It is so strange, their intense curiosity with me - I have never thought of myself as that different - but in this environment the contrast is literally black and white. To the women here I am just a foreign figure. Most women will just stare and not say anything - they are probably thinking "why are you here, or I wonder why she is here". All the women at the health centre I get along with really well, but in town it is different. They don't know why I am here so some make assumptions.
To the men I am fascinating - mostly in a bad way. I don't know how many times I have been called at in their native language or gotten "hey baby". It is really annoying. Sometimes it just may be curiosity as well - but for the most part in town it seems to be rude, and that is something I can't get used to.
One story I will share in relation to discrimination happened on Tuesday. I was sitting in pharmacy with Sarah - who is one of my best friends here. She is 28. The pharmacy is set up like a booth, with patients coming to an open window and Sarah dispensing the drugs. The door to get in is right beside the window and it is often open because it gets so hot. One woman came with two children, both of whom were standing sheepishly at the door. They were speaking in Luo so I was bascially tuned out. Sarah said they wanted to come in an greet me. So they both walked in and shook my hand. They didn't say anything - but the mom at the window said "say how are you!" to the little boy. He said nothing. So I said "how are you?" to him. He was very shy - so the mom said "respond with I am fine!" - which he then wispered. Then Sarah and the mom continued spekaing in Luo while she was getting the drugs ready. The mom kept speaking to the kids, who were non-responsive. The little boy who was next to me was moving around a bit and I noticed some patches on his head that were discoloured. I wondered if they were wounds, or some kind of skin infection. I assume that is why the mom was getting medication. Anyways they stayed for about 2 minutes, and then they left. As soon as they left Sarah started breaking out in laughter. I asked her what was so funny. She said that in Luo the mom was telling the boy to get closer to me and bow his head in my direction so that I may see the wounds and give her money. It was kind of funny - but at the same time it hurt my feelings. These are the kind of assumptions people make - this is what they think of me. It is weird to be discriminated against.
Anyways I need to salvage this internet time so that is all I will write for today.
The list of things I miss in Canada include: whole grain flax bread, oatmeal muffins, cold milk, the roads, the police and swimming! I think of these things often and will love them so much more when I return.
Goodbye for now dear friends and family!
Other than that rant, life here has been challenging and rewarding as always. On Monday Wren and I and two of the teens living on the director's compound (they aren't his kids, they just live there) went to the village of Rang'ala to visit an orphanage. I have never been to an orphanage before so this was totally new to me. The orphanage housed 40 children aged 0-4 years old. It is run by one of the most inspiring people I have ever met - Sister Henrietta. We were shown around and then got a chance to play with the children. It was such a great experience, and it is so clear to see how God is working through the staff at the orphanage. One of the most interesting peices of information Sister Henrietta told us was that most of the orphans were there because their mother died - however most of their fathers were still around. In this culture the role of the man as single father is non-existant. The men don't know how to take care of the children. It is upsetting. Nevertheless, Wren and I have decided to volunteer there once a week. The kids need so much love and attention which the small staff cannot provide all the time. It is sad to think they may not recieve such attention at all once they are discharged from the orphanage - but that is something huge to be tackled.
The title of my blog, I am different, is what I really wanted to write about. I never thought I would be discriminated against in my life. Living in Hamilton all my life I always felt like I fit in and that I had the same rights as everyone. No one ever tried to deny me those rights, and I never felt like people made false assumptions about me based on my skin colour. But now, being here 3 weeks, the discrimination has really started to settle in. To the kids it's like I am famous- they run from afar, sometimes through mud, to shake my hand. Once one kid yells "how are you" all the kids in the surrounding area yell it as well, even if you can't see them. It is so strange, their intense curiosity with me - I have never thought of myself as that different - but in this environment the contrast is literally black and white. To the women here I am just a foreign figure. Most women will just stare and not say anything - they are probably thinking "why are you here, or I wonder why she is here". All the women at the health centre I get along with really well, but in town it is different. They don't know why I am here so some make assumptions.
To the men I am fascinating - mostly in a bad way. I don't know how many times I have been called at in their native language or gotten "hey baby". It is really annoying. Sometimes it just may be curiosity as well - but for the most part in town it seems to be rude, and that is something I can't get used to.
One story I will share in relation to discrimination happened on Tuesday. I was sitting in pharmacy with Sarah - who is one of my best friends here. She is 28. The pharmacy is set up like a booth, with patients coming to an open window and Sarah dispensing the drugs. The door to get in is right beside the window and it is often open because it gets so hot. One woman came with two children, both of whom were standing sheepishly at the door. They were speaking in Luo so I was bascially tuned out. Sarah said they wanted to come in an greet me. So they both walked in and shook my hand. They didn't say anything - but the mom at the window said "say how are you!" to the little boy. He said nothing. So I said "how are you?" to him. He was very shy - so the mom said "respond with I am fine!" - which he then wispered. Then Sarah and the mom continued spekaing in Luo while she was getting the drugs ready. The mom kept speaking to the kids, who were non-responsive. The little boy who was next to me was moving around a bit and I noticed some patches on his head that were discoloured. I wondered if they were wounds, or some kind of skin infection. I assume that is why the mom was getting medication. Anyways they stayed for about 2 minutes, and then they left. As soon as they left Sarah started breaking out in laughter. I asked her what was so funny. She said that in Luo the mom was telling the boy to get closer to me and bow his head in my direction so that I may see the wounds and give her money. It was kind of funny - but at the same time it hurt my feelings. These are the kind of assumptions people make - this is what they think of me. It is weird to be discriminated against.
Anyways I need to salvage this internet time so that is all I will write for today.
The list of things I miss in Canada include: whole grain flax bread, oatmeal muffins, cold milk, the roads, the police and swimming! I think of these things often and will love them so much more when I return.
Goodbye for now dear friends and family!
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