does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?

after what felt like a lifetime away from nairobi, I returned during the week only to arrive and it felt like I’d never left. it was like I’d come home, which is ironic considering only a couple of months ago I wrote about never thinking I’d find a place I could live in other than australia.

en route to kenya

was up ridiculously early to get the bus from arusha on wednesday morning, and slept for most of the 6ish hour journey. I thought it was a lot less than that the last time I did the bus but I always forget about the delays when you’re at the border and waiting for people to get their visas sorted. thankgod for the ‘east africa agreement’ though, as it turns out I didn’t need to get a new kenyan visa – something I thought was necessary because I only had a single entry visa, not a multiple entry – both in kenya and tanzania. winning! saved US$100 (but I still would have paid it if it meant I could go back to kenya…)

anna met me in the city and we got the bus home together, whilst it pissed down with rain. excellent, I didn’t bring any warmish clothes with me from tanzania (that said, I only have my denim jacket) so I was definitely saturated in my new hippy pants, cream singlet and scarf. gotta love wearing a black bra under a now see-through shirt as it rains… as if my white skin wasn’t enough reason for people to stare. spent a good hour on the bus home from the city, then straight to ‘volcanoes’ for coke, chips and kachumbari (the best tomato, onion, coriander and green chilli salsa in the world). I was so hungry so I ordered two plates of chips and two serves of kachumbari and nearly finished all of it, until I was about to burst. god I missed this.

quickly bought a few necessities at the local supermarket (aka the things that are supplied in tanzania but not in kenya: toilet paper, water, tea bags and milk… a girl can’t live without her tea) and then home to say hi to my beloved sisters, makena and vicky, our housekeeper jane and my host mum, regina. it was so good to see them again, makena’s face was priceless as I walked in the door. coming from tanzania where I hadn’t had water or electricity for 4 days, I did my washing which was about 3 weeks overdue and had the worlds best shower. never would I have thought I would miss the shower I hated so much when it gives you electric shocks and doesn’t have a drainage hole except for a cracked tile in the corner. heaven. I also managed to score not only my old room but also my old bed, and felt utterly content as I went to sleep that night. probably the first time I’ve felt as comfortable as I would at home in a long while.

the next morning, I was off to ‘little ray of hope’ to surprise the kids. I’d told evelyn I was coming, but she told me she’d keep it a surprise from the kids. and man, were they surprised. I was welcomed with the usual cheers and screams, but then a few of the girls came up to me and said “why did you cry?” in reference to the day I left them and I was a blubbering mess. then one girl, ivy, said “will you cry again?” to which I told her, “I hope not!”. I didn’t stay too long on thursday as the kids were still finalising their examinations, including reading and writing, and I didn’t want to be too much of a distraction. thursday night we went out for dinner with a few other people staying at regina’s who I had met before I left, as it was ashley’s 26th birthday, we had a bloody awesome meal at habesha ethiopian restaurant… why kenyan food doesn’t taste as good as ethiopian kills me. it’s got so much flavour, I need to start researching the best ethiopian restaurants for when I get home to melbourne.

friday I was back at school to spend it with the kids, turns out it was their very last day of school for the year! couldn’t have timed my visit better. we had such a great time, singing the songs I’d taught them (without my ukulele as I left that in tanzania), drawing pictures, counting in english and saying colours in english. the greatest surprise was that the clinic downstairs purchased some food for the kids as it was their last day, so we had sodas (orange, yellow and purple fanta), popcorn, biscuits, caramel lollies, mandazi AND balloons to string up. it was so much fun and such a beautifully happy day, except for trying to tell the kids to ‘kula pole pole’ (eat slowly) because their little tummies are so not used to eating that much food, or that much sugary and salty food. but their grins were absolutely priceless, especially as I sat with them on the floor to eat (they love that); they were so happy and it was such a wonderful treat for their last day of school. I spoke to evelyn who thinks there should be 3 or 4 kids who are should be ready for formal school next year, so they will be our priority for child sponsorship.

meeting little beth

I also got to meet the beautiful little girl that was named after my sister, beth. if you didn’t read about her, you can read her story here. she’s had a rougher start to life than most people on this earth but now has so much love in her life, including two older sisters in australia. my heart was breaking when I held her, thinking how could somebody abandon such a beautiful little girl. I understand that circumstances here are difficult, but for fucks sake, if you don’t want to have a child, use a bloody condom. it’s not that difficult. beth is one of the lucky ones, at least she has been adopted by someone who will love and care for her.

evelyn told me the awful story of a little girl who lived close to her, who just learned to walk and wandered away from her home where she was lived with her mother and at least 10 other children, most to different fathers. after an unknown amount of time, the girl was found face down in a ditch by the side of the road, having drowned in the filthy water and sewerage that gathers there. people who found her tried to save her, but it was too late. why don’t stories like this make it to worldwide news? why isn’t this causing the same uproar as the bloody stupid names kanye or beyoncé called their kids? this is a true headline.

bernard’s report card

this is the report card for one of the kids who has been sponsored to go to formal school. bernard is 12 years old, was a street kid after his mother died from HIV, is HIV+ and has cancer (kaposi sarcoma). this year, he worked really hard and has scored 453/500 for his overall year marks. the teachers remarks of ‘let the sky be your limit’ almost made me cry. bernard lives with evelyn, who is unbelievably proud of him. she constantly reminds him, as well as all the older children who have sponsors and are at formal school (part of the older ‘ray of hope’ group; ‘little ray of hope’ refers to the younger children who only started at the school in may of this year), to “work hard, always, because there is someone overseas who is denying themselves to extend money to you as a total stranger so you may study and have a wonderful opportunity”. these kids all deserve to dream as big as we do. this little guy, bernard, is a legend. he is so determined to work hard as he wants to be an artist when he grows up – and he’s talented enough, believe you me.

sometimes we all need a reminder that there is always someone worse off than you.

returning to kenya was good. good for my soul, good for my frame of mind. before I left, I was so sick of this place, then I got to arusha and couldn’t wait to get back to kenya – so it was great to see the country in a different light, as a country I love and look forward to visiting again and again.

time is like the ocean, you can only hold a little in your hands

thoughts, part IV.

(if you’re new to these “thoughts” posts, it’s basically little things I’ve written down that intrigue me and I feel the need to share with you lot)

on one of my last weekends in kenya, my host family had a huge party at home. about 50 people came over for a late lunch where they’d eat the two goats that were freshly slaughtered that morning. preparations started the night before when makena, her aunt and her grandmother sat in the kitchen peeling potatoes. then the next morning when I woke up, there was an army of kenyan women in the kitchen; rolling dough for chapati, slicing (what looked like) a million bunches of kale to be eaten, cutting vegetables, preparing what would be lunch for about 50 people that day. I felt a bit homesick actually, because I love it when my big dysfunctional family gets together. and it felt like that, except there was no alcohol at this party… something that’s never missing from my family shindigs.

seeing evelyn, the principal at little ray of hope give the rest of her lunch to one of the smaller kids one day brought tears to my eyes. I have never met a more selfless person.

it gets me down when you see people purely ‘existing’ here. I mean that in the sense that some kids just don’t have the same opportunities to grow up and be who or what they want to be; that they have to sell fruits and vegetables by the side of the road so they can merely survive. not many of them get to dream as big as we do.

I find it hilarious that kenyans drink guinness, and a lot of it, regardless of how old or pregnant they are, because it would “keep their skin nice and evenly black”. because nobody wants uneven skin colouring.

arriving in africa, I was told to dress somewhat conservatively so as not to offend anyone. I complied for much of my stay, understanding that you have to cover up in certain areas in africa to be respectful – however everyone can go get fecked if they think I’m going to wear neck to toe coverage when it’s this bloody hot. okay, I get that wearing a crop top and short-shorts would be offensive to the many muslims here in tanzania (and I wouldn’t do it anyway), but if my “pasty white” shoulders offend you, which by the way they are no longer pasty and white, avert your eyes. it’s too goddamn hot to be polite anymore. rant over.

a very wise person once told me “you can’t grieve over everything you see here, otherwise you’d never stop grieving” (that was norwegian anna by the way). it’s so true. seeing men carrying “bunches” of chickens strung together by their feet on the dalla-dallas shocked me, initially. same with seeing men dragging goats across a road by a rope tied around their neck. or seeing baby chickens tightly crammed into cardboard boxes on the side of the road waiting to be sold. I hate animal cruelty but here, this is life. this is how people survive. I think I’ve come to terms with it a bit easier than some other people I’ve met and maybe it’s because of the “farm girl” attitude I’ve been raised with through my grandparents and my parents. I hate that people can’t handle the fact that a “cute baby animal” had to die for that delicious juicy steak or an amazing pork chop they’re eating for dinner. where did you think it came from? of course the cute things are the most delicious. (just writing about steaks is making my mouth water, I would do anything for a big bit of meat right now… I don’t know how vegetarians do this shit). you have to eat to survive. here, nothing goes to waste and nothing is more obvious for some than the will to survive.

I hate that regardless of how well practised you are – and I’ve had four and a bit months worth of practice – when using a squat toilet, if you’re a girl, you will piss on your feet. it’s inevitable. and it sucks.

the fact that it takes me almost an hour to get to work at my clinic here in tanzania. dat shit cray. in kenya, our workplaces were always within walking distance. and how I get to the clinic is as follows: get on a yellow coloured dalla dalla (matatu), ride for 20-25 mins into town, get off yellow dalla, walk 15 mins to get to red coloured dalla, ride for 20 mins, get off red dalla and walk 5 mins. but I’m not alone, this is done with about 15 other people crammed into the back of the van, most of whom are women who have done their market shopping for the day so are carrying bags of vegetables and/or dried fish and/or dead animals. delicious.

this week I got on a by motorbike for the first time since my accident. no there was no helmet, no I wasn’t wearing any protective clothing (I was only in a dress), yes I’m an idiot… I already know that, but I was lost and the dalla I got on to go home went the wrong direction and it was almost dark and I needed to get home ASAP. needless to say it won’t be happening again, I was shaking like a fool the entire ride and for about 20 mins afterwards, as well as being so sweaty, I hated the entire ride. never again. but I did it. I conquered a fear… sort of.

speaking of dalla dallas, I can safely say that before I got to tanzania, I had never before been asked to purchase a bra from a woman sitting behind me to “help support her family”. lingerie sales in the back of a public van. sorry love, but I like to try before I buy.

people like us, we don’t need that much

my first week in tanzania was really interesting. obviously, you all read about my severe “homesickness” from kenya, which I should let you know I am almost over. I still miss the kids at little ray of hope like crazy, and I really miss my host sisters, but I don’t feel as upset about it as I was 11 days ago. but I am going back to nairobi for a weekend visit in my couple of weeks… I just spoke to anna and vicky and makena, and I miss them all so much, I will happily spend money on buying another visa to re-enter kenya, and then to re-enter tanzania. I might be crazy, in fact I know I am, but it’s only 250km away.

anyway, tanzania. I have been placed in a clinic called kijenge RC dispensary, RC stands for roman catholic. so there’s usually a few church songs playing in the background during the working hours, which definitely make me feel like I’m in a gospel choir or something (that’s my ultimate dream, to be a gospel singer. I’m just not a good singer nor am I black enough… one day). there’s two huge (and I don’t mean tall) nuns who run the show who I’m waiting for them to start singing “oh happy day”. the clinic is quite nice, they don’t need for much. I’ve had a look in their pharmacy and it’s stocked to the brim – they obviously have great sponsorship.
my first couple of days there were relatively observational, which I expected, and to be honest, it’s really captivating as people just don’t go to the doctor in australia for these sort of things. I sit in with the doctor (who is also my supervisor) as he does consults , and some really interesting cases have come through over the past week. the doctor is awesome, he includes me in the consults and asks my opinion, as well as translating to me what the patients say and what he thinks they have and what he will prescribe, and asks if patients in australia would receive the same treatment. I’m not completely up to date with what diagnoses require what medication, but a few things I recognised and could say yes or no. obviously we don’t have malaria cases back home.

the doctors office; the wall I sit and look at while he chats to the patients

things that came through the clinic last week include (but certainly not limited to):
– 3yo girl with malaria
– 25yo female with hypertension (220/150 on both arms)
– 6yo boy with mumps
– HIV positive woman for medication to prevent spread of disease to kid (niverapine)
– 25yo guy with cut finger
– 6yo boy with UTI
– 30yo female for stitches removal post caesarean
– 8 month old baby boy with otitis media
– 18yo girl with malaria
– 14yo girl with mumps
– baby with facial skin rash whose mother is HIV +
– 8yo boy and his 30yo dad with amoebiasis (a type of gastro) – treated with flagyl (metronidazole)
– 18 month old girl with bronchitis
– 5yo boy with productive chesty cough
– 3yo boy with malaria
– 5yo boy with huge abscess behind right ear (lidocaine before lancing, hardly done at all kid screamed the whole time, lots of shit (obviously not a medical term) came out)

hand washing facilities in the treatment room… yep, gross.

I spent one day working alongside a midwife doing antenatal checkups; learnt how to measure fundal height (basically measuring how big a women’s pregnant stomach is… that’s a very lay person description) and how to listen for a heartbeat with an archaic tool that looks like a weird mini-trumpet but not before harassing the baby through mum’s tum to figure out where the head is, therefore where the chest/heart might be (I’m still practising this new and difficult skill).

some of the things in the treatment room, apparently anything inside the silver tins is sterile. yet to see a steriliser though

some awesome things I learned this week:
– all malaria tests and treatment are free; children just don’t die of malaria here anymore as treatment is free (provided they can make it to a clinic)
– all tuberculosis tests are free
– all HIV testing and treatment are free

I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that we had three mumps cases in the clinic. for those of you who don’t know, mumps is one of the things that we’re all vaccinated against in the big MMR injection (measles, mumps and rubella) at 12 months of age and (I think) the booster is at 2 years. mumps is a viral infection that usually causes painful swelling of the salivary glands, but can cause other serious problems including encephalitis (swelling of the brain), which can lead to permanent brain damage and/or deafness.

I was dumbfounded. like measles, isn’t mumps ‘extinct’? I mean obviously nothing is ever completely extinct – except dinosaurs- as these patients had it. even things like the bubonic plague (the black plague) have surfaced in madagascar and the middle east in the past few months. crazy stuff. I guess because I’ve not seen it in australia, and I know I certainly don’t have an extensive work history due to only just finishing uni, but I’ve never heard or seen anyone being diagnosed with mumps, at least not my age or younger. even though vaccines are pretty much readily available here in east africa (as far as I’ve seen), there are many factors that prevent kids being vaccinated against things that we’ve all been vaccinated against – unless you’re one of those crazy people who believes there’s a correlation between receiving certain vaccines and developing autism. don’t even get me started on that, that’s a topic for another day and a lot of wine… moving on… one website writes about the challenges of getting kids vaccinated here; i) lack of medical personnel to administer the vaccines, ii) lack of vaccines, iii) inability to store refrigerated vaccines in rural areas, iv) inability to transport refrigerated vaccines and v) poor record-keeping (reference: east africa partnership). I’ve seen all of these things, even to the point of only being able to have certain vaccines at the medical camps I worked at in kenya.

beautiful baby girl with the awful skin rash on her face, likely correlated to being HIV+

the baby girl who had the facial skin rash was such a beautiful little kid, I managed to take a picture (obviously after checking it was okay with her mum and the doctor). she wasn’t the patient, but the doctor and I obviously noticed something was wrong. her mum was coming in for more HIV anti-retrovirals (ARV’s) and the doctor mentioned that the baby’s skin rash is almost 100% indicative that she is also HIV+. I’ve done a lot of google-ing about rashes that relate to HIV and haven’t seen many that correlate to the same rash as the baby, but her mum didn’t consent to having her daughter tested on the day. the frustrating part of our job; you can’t force anybody, even when it’s in their or their child’s best interest.

it’s been really eye opening. and I’ve learnt a lot. not in terms of clinical skills, and by no means are they improving, but I’m learning a lot about patient care and how important it is for patients to feel like they’re being listened to. picking up on small cues about how certain medical professionals look at and/or speak to (or don’t) their patients; I know how much they drummed it into us at uni that you need to give patients eye contact so they aren’t feeling ignored. I thought it might have been a culture thing, but now I don’t, because patients are constantly looking at the doctor or midwife, hoping for some sort of interaction, yet they rarely receive it.

on a side note: I’m totally and utterly exhausted. I had no idea how tiring this volunteering thing would be, and I think I’ve been chronically tired since mid-september. dragging myself out of bed some days has been really difficult, I’m really sick of not showering (when the power goes off here in tanzania, so does the power, so you have to get water out of the well in our front yard to bathe with), I’m so so sick of eating carbs and carbs and more carbs (dinner the other night was spaghetti and mashed potato), I’m so tired of having irregular bowel movements and getting ‘travellers diarrhoea’ on a regular basis (yes that’s an overshare but I don’t give a shit) and spending every fortnight sick like I am now.
but it’s made worth it by a lot of little things – including an elderly gentleman who paid for my bus ride home from town yesterday to thank me for what I’m doing for his community. this guy was so unbelievably old (I always say that africans always look young, until they hit a certain age, then they look 150 years old), and had hardly any teeth left, and spoke terrible english, but I felt so humbled by how generous his gesture was. or by the kids and how they have to run their hands over your skin to admire how different the colours are… or pull your arm hairs out.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t counting down until my holiday in zanzibar, only 27 days until I’m lying on a beautiful, idyllic, crystal clear beach and actually relaxing. bring it on, baby. I’ll be so ready for a break by then!

now my feet won’t touch the ground

getting to tanzania was an experience, to say the least. with my emotions already shot to buggery, I got the bus from nairobi, kenya to arusha, tanzania. getting out of kenya and into tanzania with new visas etc. was actually pretty easy and self explanatory (thank god because there was no one to help explain anything); until we got a flat tyre, didn’t have a spare and waited almost 45mins for our drivers mate to come and save the day with his spare tyre. in the desert, under the blazing sun. dis is africa.

how many Africans does it take to change a bus tyre?

arrived at the bus stop in arusha and called angella, one of the directors of TVE (tanzanian volunteer experience, the equivalent of NVS in kenya), to let her know I’d arrived. someone was there to pick me up in about 15mins, but not before a million guys come up to me greeting me with ‘mambo!’, which is kind of like ‘what’s up?’ and then asking if I need a taxi ride. so now that I’m totally fluent in kiswahili (that is such a lie, but I’m better than the volunteers who also started with me in my orientation here), I respond with ‘poa sana’ which kind of means ‘not much, everything’s good’… sorta kinda. that made these guys think I was fluent; they kept asking if I was a kenyan, I was like mate do I look like a bloody kenyan? I’m not that dark. until I realised it was my kenyan bracelet that was giving it away, now I have a tanzanian one as well – just to confuse people. anyway these guys started chatting to me in swahili – yeah nah mate, I can say hey and what’s up, and I can understand a bit but don’t get me to speak it back. it would take years for me to get that good.

got picked up by a guy called jimmy and a woman called aichi, who turns out to be the house manager of the volunteer house I’m staying in, in sakina, arusha. there was a guy from the US, matt, already in the car as well as a girl from israel, arielle, who just got released from the army. we picked up another guy from spain, pepe, and then all got taken to our respective volunteer houses. this is so unbelievably different to my kenyan experience; the house I’m staying in is called ‘new new house’ and fark me, it’s a modern mansion! sleeps about 30 people plus the two house mamas and our house manager, hot showers that don’t give you an electric shock, flushing toilets with supplied toilet paper, supplied drinking water, really cool outdoor living area, we get served three meals a day every day, there’s no curfew, there’s no rules on alcohol… incredibly different to living with my host family in kenya. but not necessarily better. more on that after.

my room, sleeps 14

the boys doing some DIY BBQ meat

the new new volunteer house – bigger and more modern than my home in australia

thursdays in arusha are what they call ‘social night’, where all volunteers can go and have a huge BBQ dinner at the old house (meaning that it was the first volunteer house TVE had, since then they’ve now got two more, including new house and new new house, which is mine). because TVE volunteers are only placed in arusha, it’s pretty easy for everyone to come together and to get picked up from wherever they’re staying. maybe about 35-40 volunteers in total had dinner, everyone sitting outside and hanging out. now I’m really looking forward to this every week because I’ve met some awesome people who I don’t live with, that I’ll now see each thursday (plus the dinner is amazing, last week I ate so much I felt sick… that’s what I’m like now, I see delicious food and I can’t stop myself. that’s what eating unexciting bland carbs for 4 months does to ya!)

it was so weird being on the other side of what I normally am; in kenya, I was that volunteer who knew all the tips and tricks and could give the advice because I’d been there so long. whereas this time, I was eagerly listening for anything that could help out in this slightly familiar yet really strange place. there are also some lovely girls from new zealand though, especially rebecca and savannah…. there’s just something about people from that part of the world. wink wink.

friday was my orientation day, and that was so bloody different to my last orientation. my kenyan july 1 orientation had 99 volunteers, my tanzanian november 1 orientation had only 9 volunteers. ha, how times change. the orientation was different to what I was used to in kenya as well; while I should have only gone to one (my own), anna and I ended up going to about 3 or 4 as we were trying to organise our medical camp and chat to marcus about it. no singing “jambo bwana” at this orientation in tanzania and the staff of TVE are all women, some of the new things in this new country. did a walk around the city, tried to get my bearings but lord knows it will probably take my entire time here to feel as comfortable as I eventually did in nairobi.

I feel really nostalgic to my time in kenya, in the grand scheme of life it was only 4 months but it seemed like a lifetime almost. when I was brought to the volunteer house on thursday afternoon, one of the volunteers told me about a girl who came to arusha after being in kenya for 2 weeks, stayed here in arusha all of 24hrs before going straight back to kenya. being completely honest, I’d by lying if the thought of that didn’t excite me. my first couple of days here I really struggled. I think it was a combination of loving what I was doing in kenya as well as loving the people I spent my time with. I know moving to a new place is daunting, and while part of my struggle to assimilate was due to that, a lot of it was because it wasn’t kenya. I’d become so used to living in a slum, to having a shower that gives me an electric shock, to walking down my dirt road to school every day, to avoiding ugali night at home, to sneaking in bottles of wine to my house where alcohol wasn’t allowed – and then finally graduating to just going down to the closeby bar mixing with the locals for beers, to fending for & protecting myself in a way I’ve not had to before, to finally learning the kids names at school (over 50 kids in 4 months, it’s no easy feat). I spoke to mum and dad over the weekend who reckon I’m going through culture shock, which sounds like a bloody joke as I’ve only moved down one african country. but it makes sense. I might still be in africa but tanzania seems like ‘the ritz’ compared to the budget hotel that kenya is… and I’m all about the ‘budget hotels’. I knew it would be difficult once I got home, just not this soon!
but now it’s time for a new experience, as much as I miss kenya I know I’ll be back there and back with the kids before I know it.

next posts – random thoughts over the past few weeks as well as my new workplace here in tanzania, the kijenge RC (roman catholic) dispensary and the weird medical stuff I’ve already seen in my first week. the new part of my adventure has started, and it’s actually medical. #nursinginafrica

I hope that I don’t fall in love with you

leaving kenya was so difficult. I had no idea how much I’d fallen in love with the country and (some of) the people until I had to say my goodbyes. I thought I’ve had to say some pretty difficult goodbyes in my time, but nothing compares to this. the day before I left kenya, I wrote this on facebook;

never before have I felt such ‘tug of war’ of emotions. one side of my brain is so unbelievably ready to get out of kenya, I’ve been ready for a change of scenery for over a month now. but the other side is not at all ready to leave and still desperately wants to stay, so much so that I cried as I (again) packed up my life into my bag. what is it about this bloody country?! as excited as I am for the next part of my african adventure, I’m not at all ready to say goodbye.

and it doesn’t even start to describe how I was feeling. I was dreading saying goodbye to my host family, especially vicky and makena, and also the kids and teachers at school.

I spent my last morning in nairobi at the shops buying things for the school that I’d noted they needed more of, which I couldn’t have done without your donations. I know I said I’d be spending it on medical stuff, but that’s just not how things turned out for me in kenya, so I have to say a big thank-you for trusting me to spend your money where I feel it’s needed most. that’s really important, I had to say that as well (not sure if I’d said it before or not, so making sure I say it now). they truly needed more grey lead pencils, erasers, crayons for colouring, plain paper for when they have drawing time, tape for sticking their work on the walls, chalk, bleach for cleaning the one toilet that all 53 kids use, 25 rolls of toilet paper, and then the equivalent of almost AU$500 to buy rice, ugali flour, beans, cooking oil and vegetables (onion, tomato and kale) for 6 months as well as de-worming medication for all the kids. this is a huge gift to them, honestly, to keep them going for that long is incredible. asante sana, from the bottom of my heart on behalf of little ray of hope.

I said my goodbyes to all the kids, they all lined up to give me hugs and it was the best going away present I could ask for. some of them gave the tightest hugs ever and I didn’t want to let go.

then came saying goodbye to the teachers, which started the waterworks for me. I was a mess. particularly saying goodbye to evelyn; I have never met a more hardworking, dedicated, inspirational woman. to me, she’s on par with mother teresa. I’ve worked so closed with her over the last four months, she’s been very much like one of my many kenyan mothers.

hendrika (the kids social worker), agnetta (the incredible cook), me, evelyn (principal and teacher of all 53 kids), and alfred (assistant teacher and the male influence for the kids)

as I was leaving, I said “kwaheri” (goodbye) to the kids for the last time, and they all cheer and shout goodbye like always, but I burst into tears again. the poor little things, they were looking at me like ‘uh oh, what did we do wrong?’ so I told them: “I’m going to miss you guys so much, see you next year!” and then they said “see you next year, we love you”, which made me cry even more. I love these kids so much.

then that night, I also had to say goodbye to my host family. gah, why do goodbyes have to be so bloody hard! the girls were the worst, I walked them out to their school bus the next morning and gave them the biggest hugs, thanked them for being the best little sisters and that I’ll see them next year when I bring my sister. their little faces lit up so much.

back: angela, regina, me. front: makena and then mini-me, vicky

the day of me leaving was so tough, anna waved me off and I was upset (again). especially because that was usually my job, and I was so used to saying goodbye to everyone else, not others having to say goodbye to me. as I drove off in my taxi, I was desperately trying to take everything in, to remember it all; this was my home for a long long time. I kept having to remind myself that I would be back, but that didn’t really stop the tears. what a complete sook!

there’s a couple of facebook groups that people can join before they come to kenya to ask questions, and meet people who will also be there when they arrive, or around the same time. usually it’s full of nervous kids who just finished high school and need someone to reassure them that they’ll be safe so their parents will let them go. I decided to write something just today, which covers everything to reassure them without spoiling the nervous surprise they’re in for;

hey guys,
I just left kenya after living and volunteering there for 4 months and honestly, I found it to be my second home. It absolutely broke my heart to leave and say goodbye, never before have I loved and been so sick of somewhere so much at the same time! You’ll understand what I mean when you arrive and experience the Kenyan way of life.
initially, it is really hard to acclimatise to; you will probably struggle and you’ll get annoyed at the way things work (or don’t work), sometimes bad things happen but shitty things happen everywhere; you won’t remember them after all the amazing things you’ll see and experience, and the beautiful people you’ll meet and get to know.
be open minded, enjoy the endless surprises and the complete unknown of coming to a country that not many (if any) of your friends have ever visited, be ready to live in a place without running water, without flushing toilets, without regular showers, be prepared not to eat like you do at home (the kenyan diet is all about carbs!), understand that people will constantly ask you for money and it is incredibly tiring to always deal with this, get to know your host family (they truly become your family while you stay there), experience local Kenyan bars and restaurants but allow yourself to enjoy some really good pizzas and beer at junction mall… but most of all, be prepared and ready to work in places where you’re needed, not just where you want to work.
I thought I would do medical work whilst in kenya, but that didn’t really work out, and I ended up helping to reform a school, little ray of hope, that wasn’t through NVS but really needed my help. this absolutely made my time in kenya feel worthwhile, that I could really help make a difference. It’s not what I thought I would do but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
kenya is truly something else, it will get under your skin. NVS is an incredibly team of people who are always there for you should you have any problems or if anything goes wrong.
give it your all, and kenya will give you more than you could ever give.
victoria x

I don’t think I’ve ever written anything truer than this.

there’s nothing more I can say to express how grateful I am for all I’ve experienced over the past 16 weeks. my time in kenya was so up and down with so many highs and lows, but it wouldn’t have been as incredible as it was without all the people I met. I can’t name you all, but to all the volunteers I lived with, worked with and drank with, to the NVS staff who were constantly supportive, to my beautiful host family, the staff at school, the random strangers on the street asking me to marry them, the new friends I made at the local bar, a huge huge huge asante sana. my life will forever be changed because of you all.