Part II... Mzungu in Kenya

OK, so this should have been before my last post, but oh well. Slight chronological impairment.

So, the punch buggy factor is in full force here in Kuria, Kenya. (See my very first post for the meaning of this reference.)

But the funny thing is, i think they have seen so few of us that it's really just "punch buggy" (no description to follow)! Everywhere I went today - the market, the streets, the shops -- I heard whispers or cries of "Mzungu!" Announcing to anyone in earshot that they had 'seen one'. But it's usually cute and funny (we'll see if I feel this way in 2 weeks) -- but I don't find it to be annoying. Especially when it's the little kids who see you. And they SMILE huge and wave and sometimes run up to you and grab your hand, and they are just so happy when you greet them. It is truly heartwarming. Crystal, my partner who has been all over Africa, has this wonderful way of reaching out to all the people we meet... and I can see why she wants to. It seems to make people so happy. I heard almost (well not quite) as many "Karibu"s as "Mzungu"s. "Karibu" translates to "you are welcome here". Most people that I have met in my 2 days here have certainly made me feel that way. It helps that Nuru has such a positive perception from many of the people in this district. But it also helps that the people are (mostly) warm and inviting and non-judgmental at the core.

The Bus Ride: Nairobi to Isibania

We arrived at the Nairobi bus depot at about 5:55am for a 6am bus to Isibania (the city near the Kuria district, where Nuru is working). The depot is this crazy mess of buses, cars, people, and bags - with no apparent signage or directions. Our translator left to get us tickets (*note: unclear if they were ever actually purchased or given to the bus driver*) and then we took off at as fast a sprint as our large bags and packs would allow - through a tight maze of buses. We found one that - to me - looked exactly like all others in the mess, and were told to push our way on board. Steph and Gaby threw their bags up and climbed the precarious steps into the bus (you wouldn't think of getting into a bus as an ascension ... but really, this one was. Then it was my turn. I got one foot and one bag into the bus as the driver - apparently running on a tight schedule - decided that it was time to go though, and the bus started moving. Crystal was still outside. Our "helpers" started yelling and pounding on the bus. We finally got in, only to find a totally packed bus that basically couldn't fit more than half of us.... therefore, we found ourselves and our bags stacked precariously in the aisle ways as the bus bounced its way down the Nairobi streets.

I eventually squeezed in besides a Tanzanian woman who was in the animal feed business. Namely, she sold Tanzanian animal feed in Nairobi. Upon finding out that I was American, she wanted ot know what products she could go buy in NYC that she could resell in Kenya. Having been to HBS, this little intuition told me that, well, her Kenyan/Tanzanian purchasing power wouldn't exactly go too far on the streets of Manhattan. I hope I talked her out of that idea. She still wants to come visit me in New York though. She was a rather large woman, which basically meant that I had about half the seat, and ours was conveniently the seat closest to the exit. Good side: fresh air (mixed with road dust, but still. Not bus air). Bad side: every time someone needed to exit, they would basically toss their suitcase onto my feet, grab my shoulder or hair or jacket for balance, and stumble off the bus (sometimes while it was still moving).

Crystal and Julius sat amidst many small children. Crystal held, like, three babies or something. Julius held one ... who proceeded to yack all over him. Sign of true character -- he kept holding the baby the whole trip.

It was a rough 6 hours... on 2 hours of sleep... welcome to Kenya, muzungus!

Do They Hear You When You Cry

I am currently reading this wonderful, extremely well-written book called "Do they hear you when you cry", by Fauziya Kassindja. A true story centered around some really scary stuff that West African Muslim females endure. BUT, scary stuff aside, I came upon this cute and funny passage at the beginning of the book that I just HAD to post because it is SO in keeping with my blog's theme. Here goes:

"When I was a child, we almost never saw white people in Kpalime, and it was really uncommon to see them walking. My friends and I would run behind any white person we did see, calling out to everybody along the way, 'Come look, come look'. Sometimes we tried to touch him, because we thought if we touched a white person we would turn white too. Or we'd pretend to speak English: 'Arisha arisha kotombray' and other such nonsense words that to us sounded just like English." --Fauziya Kassindja

Hotel Gorillas

Before I forget, I absolutely have to write about the Hotel Gorillas / Gorillas Hotel (not sure which is right), located on the hillside in lovely Kigali. Now despite my initial misgivings about staying at a place with such a name, Gorillas turned out to be just fine... though CERTAINLY not without humor. Interestingly enough, in the past week, the Gorillas redid their website and it's now quite a Java/HTML masterpiece (Gorillas are good at coding and web design, you know). But before I left, the site was pretty basic and advertised two amenities: (1) 24-hour hot water, and (2) satellite TV. Upon my arrival, I found one very important thing missing. (Wanna guess?) Yup, hot water. I arrived at the Gorillas on a Saturday night, and I think the first time the Gorillas managed to pump me some hot water was Tuesday or Wednesday. How about the SAT TV, you ask? Well, if you consider two channels to be "Satellite TV" - those two channels being none other than SkyTV's Sports network and the HALLMARK CHANNEL - then yes. (Hallmark? for real? of all the channels in the world... anyways.)

So I spent a lovely week with the Gorillas, staying in this exact room:


I got this pic from the website, but I think every room looks exactly like this so it basically could have been my room. The window faced the main road, and across the street was a large farm. (Down the street a block was the Kigali institute of Forensics. interesting.) Anyways, and on the farm, there was a ROOSTER! (ee-yi-ee-yi ... oh never mind.) He liked to crow specifically from 6am to 7am. That's one set o'lungs to go that strong for a full hour, I tell ya. What the picture is missing, though, is the really large, loud fan that I parked right next to the pillow at all times. As hard as a tried to open every window to get some air in the room, the Gorillas were determined to keep my room shut in and totally stuffy. (Gorillas like to sleep outside, so I'm not sure why they don't understand the concept of air flow.)

One thing about the Gorillas, though, is that they CAN cook. (Food in Kigali overall leaves something to be desired, but somehow this slightly funny, slightly-off hotel had one of the best restaurants in the city.) But they have a lot of trouble handling money when you want to pay for anything. For some reason, nobody ever has any CHANGE. About five times, I saw someone take off running down the road (to the Forensics lab??) in search of bills to make change. Once I had the HOTEL DRIVER spot me a few francs from his tip money because nobody else had any change (it was super nice, but REALLY). Here is a pic of the entrance to the restaurant (quite pretty):


All in all, the Gorillas provided a safe and clean place for a week in Kigali... especially if you like roosters, unpredictable water temps, and Hallmark. TIA!

Partners' Hospital

In the midst of Rwink lies the main Partners in Health hospital. I got the chance to have one of the lead doctors show me around on Saturday. It was awesome to see the current baseline version of the electronic medical record system in use, but there are some other, more poignant images that really stick in my memory. Since it was the weekend, it was a bit quieter -- none of the big HIV/AIDS treatment groups meet on the weekends, though there were definitely lots of people around for other purposes...

• Birthing! Want to hear something crazy / amazing? Women in Rwanda are TOTALLY silent while giving birth. I can't imagine. We were walking past the maternity ward, and Michael, the doctor, was like, "hey - want to go in?" He then realized he should check to see if anyone was in labor first (um, YEAH) ... and it turns out there was! And she was not uttering a PEEP. I asked some Rwandans why it is not considered appropriate to scream and shout and curse and whatever during birthing, and they looked at me quizzically. (They were men.)
• Pediatrics: The Peds ward was PACKED. Two or three to a bed. A couple of beds were dedicated to premature babies. There was this one premie who I just wanted to hug forever and ever - she was SO incredibly beautiful, and about the size of my forearm. And she was sleeping in this big bed, all tucked in, but all by herself! It is so, so hard for these mothers -- if they have children in the hospital, they are not caring for the home (which often has lots of other little ones). You'd see tiny babies alone, and mothers rushing in and out -- but sometimes the moms cannot leave the hospitalized kids and are forced to stay in the hospital as well ... and then they either have to find another community member to mind their family, or else BRING all the kids to the hospital with them - UGH.
  
• Hippo mauling: There is a CODE in the diagnosis handbook for hippo mauling.
• Snake bites: The little boy in my pic - he had a snake bite. I think he was super proud of his bravery and valiance - hence wanting it all documented on camera. (I don't think the woman next to him was of any relation -- she just wanted in on the pic!)
• Malnutrition: This is hard for me to see. But the great thing is that a LOT of the people in the malnutrition ward at PIH are recovering really well. Their main treatment is "plumpynut" - this really fatty peanut butter in pouches. Interesting note: they use the "plumpy" instead of regular old rice and beans because you can send it home with the malnourished kids and it is less likely to get eaten by others, because it LOOKS like medicine from the package. Rice and beans, well, they're bound to get divvy-ed up amongst the family. Side note: the malnutrition ward is one of the coolest ones in the hospital -- it has this GORGEOUS jungle mural on one wall, painted by some villagers.

Good Africa Books

Interested in thoughts on good books about Africa! Fiction or non-fiction. Here's what I've got so far... leave me a comment to add to the list!

• Baking Cakes in Kigali
• Say You're One of Them (note: if you like Jhumpa Lahari's short stories, you will LOVE this)
• Shake Hands with the Devil
• Half the Sky
• It's Our Turn to Eat

A City Girl in the Countryside

OK, so I’m not exactly Carrie Bradshaw (though I think my wonderful husband might tell you that I’d like to be…). I like to hike up things (though I dislike the part when you have to come down), I don’t mind getting dirty (though I like the long shower afterwards), and I don’t jump and scream about bugs or rodents or reptiles (though I reeeeeaaalllly hate snakes and lizards the size of the one in Thailand that I named “Godzilla”). I’m level-headed, not too easily excitable, and pretty darn good at putting my mind onto the “practical” setting and getting through tough physical and mental situations. But I’m not one of those die-hard wilderness-loving activists, and I am certainly not going to use my blog to pretend to be something I’m not. Though I was sufficiently enthralled by it, I don’t know that I could live out in Rwinkwavu.

I mentioned in an earlier post that Rwink is pretty freakin’ gorgeous. It’s all covered in red and green (from the clay and banana trees and papaya trees) as far as the eye can see. The ridges call out to you, make you want to scale each and every one to see what’s on the other side. The birds are almost tropical-looking and tend to be as unphased by you as are Manhattan pigeons. The houses and huts are made of stone and red clay brick and tin and match the countryside (except for the Partners in Health hospital compound and training center, with its white buildings and bright blue roofs! I loved this because I could always find my way back!). It’s dusty but the air is clean, and the rain, which comes in extremely strong 5-min bursts, smells magnificent. If you get caught in one, you’ll be dry again in ten minutes. The people who have picked this lifestyle – working out in the hospital center or the associated labs – are amazing. They are laid-back and adaptable (you have to be!), but so committed to making an impact in the community (again, you have to be!). And Partners really gives them the resources to do that. I look at them and wonder if I could do it, what I would give up to gain that sort of an experience. I’m not sure I would cut it, for several reasons… among them are: (1) The food (it’s hard to get – meaning there aren’t many stores – and it consists mainly of beans, rice, and goat). (2) The showers (though I have a habit of taking cold showers after workouts – even in the winter – I definitely don’t like my early morning wake-up call to be cold water. Wait, make that loud roosters followed by cold water). (3) The quiet (it’s funny how different our individual preferences are … but I LIKE the sounds and the rush of the city. In a way, I find them comforting and inviting. There are people out there, things going on, and while they may exhaust you at times, you will very rarely find yourself bored.) (4) Snakes in the dark (um, yeah – word to the wise – don’t tell the city girl about the “two step mamba”. If this snake it bites you, you apparently have about two steps to live. Especially don’t talk about it right before said city girl has to walk ten minutes back to her room alone in the dark.)

So there’s my dose of realism for you. It’s not all beauty and helping wonderful people. It’s snakes and a trying lifestyle too. Some people – even the really committed ones – don’t make it out there. I talked to one at a party out in the game reserve who was miserable… he loved his work but was so sick of being in Rwink. He talked about going to restaurants in Boston as if they were like visiting the Taj Mahal – a dream. To each their own, I guess. Every situation has its ups and downs, and you’ve got to find the spot for you where the downs don’t overpower the ups.