9/28/2007 Club Matoso – The saga continues

Our new mandate not only from the Kenyan Ministry of Health but also another NGO called FACES is for us to start doing pediatric anti-retroviral therapy. Currently, we are referring all of those patients out to the local hospitals (local being an hour away by a vehicle, assuming you can pay for the ride). Thus, they feel that kids are falling through the cracks and we should try to fill one of them. I’ve been working on it, and it’s going to be a monumental challenge. The main accomplishment has to be an easy to understand protocol. We’ll see if we can pull it off.

Normally, when I write in my journal, I sit on the porch of my lodge. It looks out onto the lake and since I face Northwest, I always have a good view of the sunsets. I just re-read a book called “Fup” and a character mentions in there “I have seen 10,000 sunsets in my life. Not one of them looked the same. What more can we ask for?” I can probably agree with that. The porch is a wonderful place to just sit and read or write or relax. The “sea breeze” blows pleasantly and the weather has been so far quite hospitable.

These past few days, we’ve been lucky to enjoy the full moon. There’s no ambient light or light pollution here because there are no power lines to the area, i.e. everything beyond Migori (the nearby “big” town) has neither electricity nor sanitation. Without the background brightness, we experience the full glow of the moon, and it is amazingly luminescent. From the front door of my dwelling, the moon casts shadows, and I could even read by its light. In fact, the night sort of appears to be a “Nuit Americaine” – almost like the day-time w/ a dampening filter. Nice.

Last weekend involved a lot of traveling and walking. On Friday, we went to Migori to get some business done. The ride on that bumpy-ass dirt road is a tiring experience unto itself. It lasts at least an hour in each direction, and the creative driving needed to navigate the track disallows any opportunity to rest in the car. Normally, I like long car rides, as I take the opportunity to doze. But on these trips, I cannot wait to get out of the car (and perhaps kiss the ground).

On Saturday, the plan was to take the “Big Fish” (seriously, that’s what it’s called – it’s a big green passenger shuttle; privately owned but serves as the public transportation in the area) to Migori and from there to go to Dollith’s house (one of the clinicians here) by Cockroach (a mode of transportation that involves piling 15 people (I am not exaggerating) into a hatchback; and so-called because they’re small, fast, and look like darting Cockroaches from above). Well, the Big Fish came earlier than normal and we missed it. Then we tried to walk to Otho, which I think is about 2 miles from us. It’s all uphill and Tami (the other volunteer) concluded that I was a wimpy walker because I couldn’t keep up with her 5’11’’ stried. Thankfully, Chacha (the Director of the Education Department) picked us up in a Lalmba Landcruiser because Jackson (Personnel Director) was also going to Otho.

Once in Otho, which serves as a sort of depot for the Cockroaches, we jumped into one, paid the 150 Kenyan Shillings (2 dollars), and rode the rest of the way to Migori. Once in Migori, we met up with Dollith and Wilkester (who I keep wanting to call Winchester even though she is not white, fat, balding, or fictional) and we piled into another Cockroach to Bondo. Then from Bondo we took the Kenyan equivalent of a cycle-rickshaw to Wilkester’s house. This mode of transport involves a single passenger sitting on the back of a bicycle and then gets escorted to his destination. The bicyclists are quite skilled and hardy for they must navigate the ruts and bumps in the road, ride uphill with an extra 150 pounds on the back (and no, I haven’t lost any weight, yet, despite the bad food), use only a single gear, and doing it all for only Ksh 50 for a 30 minute trip (80 cents). Jeez!

At Wilkester’s house, we enjoyed chai (it’s interesting how much Indian influence there is here). Tami understands far more Duoluo (the local language) than she speaks. Thus, when Wilkester’s mother-in-law greeted us, I was the only one left out of the loop since Tami could follow the entire conversation. I enjoyed myself in spite of being excluded from the conversation, for the grandma was quite fund and had a great sense of humor (when it was translated for me…). At one point, she noticed I was not drinking my chai. When I told her it was because it was too hot, she became very preoccupied with finding a way to cool it down. It was endearing. She sort of reminded me of Dadi (Dad’s Mom).

After Wilkester’s place, we headed to Dollith’s birth home where we had lunch. Before lunch, I expressed that I was a little tired. This comment prompted Dollith to insist that I go to sleep. It was unnecessary but it probably solidified my reputation as a wimp. For the most part, I just lay on the bed without sleeping.

On the way back, Tami and Dollith didn’t want to risk anything with me as far as the walk back, and they sent me again with a bike all the way back to Bondo. I’m glad, for the entire trek was uphill. Plus, the path we took gave me an excellent experience of the countryside. I saw a lot neat things and unfortunately a few malnourished kids also. Granted, Matoso is no huge metropolis but its rural-ness is much less than where we were visiting.

The Cockroach ride home from Migori to Matoso was punctuated, literally, by 3 flat tires. After the first, the spare got us to Otho. In Otho, we just hung around while they tried to repair the spare, as it went kaplooie also. Luckily, I had both signal on the cell and time, and Mom called at a perfect time so that we could talk.

Then, we resumed riding towards our destination crammed in like sardines, and the tired went flat yet again. However, the fact that I am writing this blog is proof that we made it home alive and I assure you, in one piece.

On Sunday, we walked a lot because we got lost finding Daniel’s (driver and registration dude) house. He had invited us for lunch. Lunch was actually quite good. We had fried fish. When I saw it, my stomach lurched. Hoever, it turns out I really enjoy the fish when it’s fried. Of course, I ignored the sacuma (spinach) and the Ogale (or Ugali – I don’t know how it’s spelled). A friend of Daniel’s was also there and he was quite conversational with us. For the most part, we discussed politics and a little about the rural Kenyan life and Luo culture. We ventured outside after lunch and we had a thoroughly enjoyable time under the shade of his trees and the continuous breeze off the lake. Man, it was a nice afternoon.

Well, there is actually more to write but I am tired. Therefore, I will sign-off for now. You, who decided to take time out of your busy day to read this, are probably sick of reading it now anyway. I’ll try to make the next one shorter.

Cheers!

arrival - first week

Entry #1 – 9/21/07

The plane ride was for the most part uneventful as was the overnight stay in Nairobi where I had a 12 hour lay-over and thus spent it in a hotel. The plane to Kisumu from Nairobi was uneventful except for the fact that the stupid baby in the row next to mine smelled like a port-o-potty. Not only did I have the last row on the plane that could not recline, but I also had to breathe through my mouth to avoid passing out from the fecal smell. Thankfully, the plane ride was only 1 hour. If it were any longer, I probably would have died.

The Kisumu airport reminds me of those “Bush” airports in the movies – single landing strip juxtaposed by a single building surrounded by lots of vegetation and no civilization. In this case, the town was a bit away but the first impression was still striking.

On the last stretch of the leg, we drove on a dirt road from Migori (the nearest real town near Matoso) to Matoso. It was an exciting drive to say the least. As is common in any underdeveloped country, road rules “are more like guidelines’ (what movie is that?), and we were frequently driving on the right side of the road (the wrong lane). Furthermore, the road was so full of potholes, ruts, and rocks that our main path was the very large rut, bordering on a ravine, on the sides of the road so that we could avoid the rocks and holes in the middle of the road proper. I’m glad I had my seat belt on (see, Amy, I told you I would).

The nights are alive with the noises of nature. I fall asleep to the rhythmic tide of Lake Victoria. The many animals at night that make noise include the snoring of cows, the hooting of owls, the cricketing of crickets, and some animal, perhaps a bug, that sort of beeps. On the first night, I thought something in my room was malfunctioning and was looking for what I needed to “turn off,” but eventually I concluded that this seemingly artificial noise was indeed coming from outside of my abode.

My first week was benign. I am orienting myself to the Patient Support Center which is the name they give for the sections that treat the HIV and TB patients. As I mentioned to some of you before, the goal was to bolster this part of Lalmba Kenya, set up a Directly Observed Therapy Program, and do whatever else is necessary. Now, our new mandate from the Ministry of Health and another NGO in the area, FACES, is to start doing pediatric antiretroviral therapy. It’s going to be a major challenge, but I think we can pull it off.

I have finally recovered from my cold. The stupid viruses that fly around in the ducts of airplanes… One day I had to rest and take the day off, because I really didn’t feel well.

Taking extremely cold showers and using the latrine have become regular and accepted activities. I still haven’t got used to the extremely big-ass spiders in the bathroom. They are scary looking but I am grateful for them because they eat bugs. I have a few geckos in my room, too, and I love them dearly as they keep down the bug population, also. Today I just saw a gecko eat a couple of moths and I was cheering him all the way. Stupid bugs; I hate bugs.

In fact, for some reason I sometimes have ants in my bed. I don’t know where they come from. I’ll see one or two or three crawling around looking lost. I squash them because once I was bitten by one and it hurt! I don’t feel bad about it because if I were lying on their ant hill, they would show no mercy. Plus, any animal venturing into abodes that aren’t theirs knows that it’s fair game…

The food has been only passable. Even the cereal tastes like it has been rolled in dirt. The best stuff that is cooked is the non-Kenyan food. One of the staples here is something called “Ogale.” It’s nasty (or at least I think so). It’s basically solid upma with none of the redeeming qualities of upma, knowing that there are very few. Plus, being on the lake in a fishing village, fish is a very common item on the menu. They are usually bony, fish-looking, and overall scary. I’m glad that they maintain ingredients for PB&J.

Well, I think that’s it for this entry. Hope you guys keep up! Write to you later.