here I go again on my own



I’m home!

you know that feeling when you’ve been to a place and it had a huge impact on you yet you haven’t been back there for a pretty long time so you’re a bit worried if it will be as wonderful as you remember it once was?

I felt so unbelievably anxious on saturday when I was about to leave to come back here to kenya, and I can only put it down to the fact that I had absolutely no idea if kenya would be as great as I remembered. although there were days (or maybe I should say weeks) where I hated lots of things about this place; I hated the fact I was “white”. I hated being the one targeted to be pickpocketed. I hated the looks and the jeers I got from people walking by. I hated the poverty. I hated the sickness. I hated seeing the harsh reality of how so many lived. 

but there was so much to love. I guess I was worried I would come back to kenya after being thrown back into my “first world way of life” for a year and feel utterly out of my touch with being the girl I was when I lived here.

well, incase you’re wondering, I have slotted right back in to my old self – getting stared at and being called mzungu and kids running to touch my hands, being covered in dust and eating mandazi and drinking chai, hearing the constant sound of horns and shouting, music blasting, vendors selling peanuts and bananas by the roadside, stepping over god knows what in that plastic bag, matatus (public buses) not caring who is in their path, preachers shouting their prayers of a morning. safe to say, all my anxieties are gone. this is how I remember it, this is my other home – in it’s most unforgiving and unrelentless form.

so I arrived sunday morning after a solid 26 hours of travel to an announcement on the plane just before landing. “passengers, you will undergo medical assessment when arriving in jomo kenyatta international airport.” that was in. I assumed this had something to do with ebola, and in my naive assumptions, thought I’d be scrutinised to a sit down medical and interrogations of where we’ve travelled in the last however many days. I was quite wrong. the airport, which has been semi-rebuilt as a fire burned it down when I was here in 2013, is really something. reminiscent of a tin shed (okay that’s a bit harsh but in comparison to heathrow, it’s quite true),  the ‘door’ we walk through has been painted bright blue with some cartoon masaai men and giraffes under acacia trees. the inside is a concrete slab where we shuffle into two lines, to walk through one by one under a thermal imaging camera to decide whether we might display any chance of being febrile or infective. but it wasn’t ebola they were screening for, apparently if you were from china or the middle east, they were going to talk quite an interest in you. have no fear, my thermal image showed I was somewhere between 36.5 – 36.8 degrees celcius. 

it appears that kenya has also implemented “customs” since I last arrived, I definitely don’t remember having to declare myself bringing certain goods into the country. I did declare I was bringing tea bags (yes I know I’m a hopeless wannabe brit who cannot curb her addiction) which anna later laughed and asked why I would do such a thing and my response was I’m australian, we have to declare everything! I’m kind of glad they just pushed me through with the other travellers who were declaring chocolates that they’d purchased in dubai as anna also informed me that when she came back to kenya over christmas, customs had gone through her bag and seen the books and things she’d purchased for the kids at little ray of hope. I’m lucky they didn’t see all the books, pencils, crayons, posters etc that chrissie and jayne had generously given to me to bring over for the kids. 

after handing over my US$50 for my visa, I was free to go out and meet anna who had been patiently waiting to pick me up! we were so caught up in a hug that my trolley with all my bags (and no brakes, because – duh – this is africa) had made its way through a crowd of people, down a ramp and heading towards the road. 

so I’m staying back at my old host family’s house, in the middle of the kawangware slum west of nairobi, and it’s like nothing has changed at all, even though everything is different. even though I’m in my old room and in my old bed; volunteers don’t stay here anymore, my host sisters are at boarding school, the shower doesn’t give electric shocks anymore. it’s quiet and strange. 

but it’s so good to be back. x

(next post about my first day back at little ray of hope!)

home is wherever we are if there’s love there too

it feels a bit weird writing a post for my ‘travel blog’ now that I’m back home in australia. but it was such a rollercoaster of seven months, as you all read, so I feel like it’s warranted.

as it was proclaimed all over facebook, I came home very early christmas eve morning – 4am early – much to the surprise of everybody – most importantly my family – except a very few number of people, maybe 5. it was probably the best kept secret ever, it took all my strength not to let it slip, particularly as I booked the return flight late august; almost 4 months of keeping my ‘poker face’ on whenever I facetimed the family. I’m also a shocking liar, so to keep trying to lie to the family about how sad I was to be missing christmas was difficult. but I managed to get the job done.

me and the box I arrived in

one of the first things I did when I came inside my house was drink water straight out of our kitchen tap. directly. no cup, just my gob right underneath it and drinking the deliciousness that is pure water without cholera or typhoid or some sort of parasitic disease. that was pretty damn exciting, in fact it still is. particularly when I can open my mouth in the shower and actually swallow the water… I still have moments of showering and opening my mouth and straight away spitting it out. I wonder if the novelty of our water will ever wear off. the mind boggles that we use beautifully clean drinking water to bathe with, or to shit in, when it’s now 2014 and there still isn’t easily accessible or clean drinking water for a huge percentage of the world.

when I opened my fridge and saw it completely full of food, I fell silent. even though it was just before christmas – where you’d expect most fridges to be full – I know for a fact that the kids back in nairobi wouldn’t have that. even the pantry was full; overflowing. I walked into my laundry – yes, an actual laundry! not a bucket and water from the tap or the well, no hands required, no sore knuckles after rubbing your clothes together to get mud and dirt out. it was a proper laundry, with a washing machine and a dryer. now that was a very welcome sight! after washing my clothes by hand for nearly seven months, I was very excited, probably like a kid would in a lolly shop.

initially, coming home was exhilarating but so sad; it’s not easy to describe and I wonder if the only people who will really understand are other people or volunteers who lived in africa, or any other third world country for extended periods of time. seeing my family made me so happy, and the fact that I managed to surprise them made it all worth it, but I couldn’t help overwhelming feelings of sadness that my christmas was going to be so much more extravagant than what the kids back in kenya would be having. christmas then in that sense was quite overwhelming. it’s difficult to put it into words but maybe it was the sheer wealth that we have in australia – I don’t mean just in a monetary sense. we have everything we could ever want, and yet still want more. and I suppose I was also pretty bloody tried, after having travelled 30-something hours to get home. but I was lucky to come home in time to see my cousin megan super pregnant and then a week later, on new year’s day, a beautiful new baby cousin – toby ross wilkie – came into the world. what a way to start 2014!

there was one occasion in early january when I was dragged to chadstone shopping centre by mum at some point after christmas, very much almost kicking and screaming (everyone knows how much I hate that place and hate shopping). we walked through the food court and I was completely gobsmacked, for use of a better word. so, much, food, and a lot of it wasted. I really hated seeing that, because I’ve actually seen kids sifting through rubbish to find something to eat. and here, we just throw food away, even if it’s a day old – because it’s taking up room in the fridge. we cook too much, we eat too much, we drink too much. I’m guilty of all of the above, but I’m going to try and consciously change.

other things I’ve noticed that are extremely different include the fact that bananas here in australia are just not that good. in fact, if there’s one thing that east africa does well, that is growing delicious bananas. as well as driving down any road or street and seeing actual houses, not just sheds/shanty’s constructed out of corrugated iron. that took a while to get used to. we are so goddamn lucky.

but sadly there’s been some downfalls to me coming home. I’ve realised that people don’t change, even if I have, but wouldn’t it be amazing if everyone could see things from a difference perspective once in a while. unfortunately, now that I’m home, I can’t avoid getting involved with friend problems, I can’t avoid ongoing issues with a guy who has been a large part of my life for a long time now etc etc. I guess that was a luxury of being so far away, so far removed – being on the outside gives great perspective but when you’re back in the country, it’s not so easy to be diplomatic or impartial. it’s hard too because problems like that aren’t really problems. I just got an email today from evelyn at little ray of hope, who let me know that not only does she and the kids all really miss me, but the children who should be in primary school have gone a few times but due to the lack of funding, they can’t keep going on a regular basis. now that, that is a problem. my mind keeps running back to those kids, not to the petty shit that people whinge and complain about here. I simply just don’t have time to think about it – not when there’s 50 or so kids in nairobi that are somewhat dependant on me sending donated money over on a regular basis to ensure they keep getting lunch and/or medication if they’re sick.

sorry, that was a bit of a rant, but this site has always been about me being honest about things I was doing/seeing/feeling/experiencing overseas – I don’t see why that can’t translate to here in australia.

however, if there’s one thing I do love about being home, it’s being constantly surrounded by people who speak my language. it’s also being surrounded by my family, immediate and extended. it’s also the men (most of you smell so good, please guys, never stop wearing aftershave/cologne. it’s fantastic). it’s also the coffee – sadly some of the worlds best coffee beans come from east africa but they just don’t know what to do with them once they’ve been grown and picked. all of this has been quite satisfying. so it is nice being home, weird and strangely unsettling – perhaps the first couple of weeks. I do love that I’ve had a grown up interview and will hopefully get a real job very soon. I do love that simple things like I can walk down the street and not have to hold my bag – for fear that I’ll have something stolen from it. I love that I have the freedom to jump in my own car and drive somewhere, and not have to rely on public transport that is so unbearably unreliable! I love how safe australia is. I love that if I want to eat vietnamese food tonight I can, and tomorrow I will eat a souvlaki. I love chowing down a good steak. and lets not forget, I love not eating ugali!! ha ha, so many memories; I still remember eating ugali for the first time in july of 2013 – most of those memories feel like an absolute dream, a lifetime ago.

but what I do miss, terribly, are my host sisters, vicky and makena and
sly miss the kids at little ray of hope & evelyn dearly, as well as the best norwegian/non-volunteer, anna. I miss all the other wonderful volunteers I got to know, and lived with. not only all of this, but I miss the general warmth, generosity and kindness of most africans. that is something you never forget.

“…you will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart will always be elsewhere. that is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place…”

so I should probably say thank you to everybody who read this site… I may have been travelling alone for much of my trip but I never really felt alone; either by getting the stats of how many people read my blog each day, even knowing from what country people people read my blog (yes the world is that stalker-ish… see below. australia, england, america, canada and kenya were the top readers of my blog – plus how could I possibly feel lonely when people from latvia, estonia and the faroe islands were reading my blog #worldwide ). thankyou to IVHQ for being a wonderful organisation to volunteer with, and for recognising my long period of volunteering with you in east africa.

I may have been in the part of the world that no one else travels to, but I definitely had the support of you all when I was there. and for that, I will always be appreciative.

so after all that, after seven months of writing all (or at least most) of my feelings and thoughts down in an extremely public forum, I guess this is the end of this blog for now – until the next trip of course!

all my love, x

sunsets over the beaches, from now on

a usual sunset in bwejuu, the beach I’m staying

much of what I’m about to write might make those of you back home either annoyed, pissed off or jealous. I’m sorry. I’m not one who enjoys showing off or bragging, but really, I think I could quite easily get a job in tourism and try to sell zanzibar to as many people as possible, just so I can live here.

this place is paradise.

aside from being in a perpetual state of sweat, I could see myself very easily succumbing to the beautiful lifestyle of a beach bum. in fact, as soon as I’m home, I want to try and spend as much of my free time before job interviews at or near the beach. unless you can get to it every day, you forget how much you can switch off. and here is no exception.

a selection of random shots…

without doing a full on, in depth sunday 8th to sunday 15th recap of my first week, I’ll just do the highlights; swim, apply sunscreen, eat, reapply sunscreen, lay in the sun, reapply sunscreen, read, reapply sunscreen, eat again, have a beer, sleep. yeah, this is the life. I’ve already made it quite well known that I’m a simple girl with simple needs, so having sand as the floor, being barefoot, wearing literally just a dress and bikini all day, drinking beer, eating fresh seafood, being in the hot weather… it makes for one very happy victoria.

I probably think it’s heaven because I’ve not had the luxuries of a proper flushing toilet and a shower that doesn’t give electric shocks or having the water on for long enough to even have a shower, for the past 5 and a half months.

the place I’m staying is pretty cool. aptly named ‘crazy mzungus’ (crazy white people), its actually a very chill place where I have my own bungalow and have basically been their only continuous occupant. my first night, there was a guy from south africa who I stayed up chatting to almost all night, but he left on monday. then monday arvo, andi (an aussie who I volunteeed with in arusha) came to visit and stay for a couple of nights. we were encouraged to go a bit further up the beach to a hotel/villa type place called ‘upendo’, which means love in swahili, to use their pool and have a few drinks before we went to the rock for dinner. the second we drove into this place was like the second heaven. I’ll let the pictures do the talking.

the rock was an experience, actually I’ve been twice now. once with andi, and then once with two other volunteers, savannah and beth (both kiwis). literally a restaurant on a rock about 200m from shore, if the tide is out you can walk to and from it – otherwise you get a small dingy type boat. beautiful fresh seafood, although I would argue that the food at ‘crazy mzungus’ is better.

on thursday, andi and I headed into stonetown – I guess it’s like the capital of zanzibar. and I forgot my camera, which I mentally chastised myself but I was ‘that’ tourist who whipped out her iPad to take some pictures. there is so much history there that I really didn’t know much about, including the slave trade that occurred from 1850-something to 1890-something. it was sooooo hot, unbearably hot. and that’s a big thing coming from me; a complete summer and hot weather addict. and it was made all the more worse due to having to cover up and be respectful to the very proper and reserved muslim culture here, 98% of the people in zanzibar are muslim. I’d rather sweat like a pig and feel like I’m dying of heat exhaustion than get acid thrown in my face.

the city tour we did which showed us where the slave market once was, was chilling. including being shown where the slaves where kept for three days before being sold to the highest bidder. these slaves were brought over from mainland tanzania, kenya and uganda (the east african countries), sold off by the chiefs of their own tribe, and walked all the way from their tribe in their home country until they reached the coast, where they they got a dhow (local boat) across to zanzibar. to be able to decide the price, the sultan of zanzibar (who used to rule until the brits came and took over) ordered that every slave – man, woman and child – be whipped. if they cried or made any noise, their price went down considerably as it showed their weakness, if not, their price would be high as it showed they were strong. it took almost 20 years for the slave trade to be abolished; which was started when a dr livingstone from britain came to zanzibar and tried to end it for many years. however, working alone has it’s downfalls and he didn’t succeed until he went home, spread the word and eventually, britain intervened.

we went to the forodhani food markets that night, which was definitely an experience. laid out in a sort of square shape, a whole bunch of locals have all their food on skewers and it’s basically already cooked, you just choose what you want and they go and reheat it. nothing very exciting about the savoury food, however they do make a mean ‘zanzibar pizza’ with coconut and banana which is so yum, as well as a sugarcane ginger and lime juice drink… very very delicious.

so yeah, that’s what I’ve done for the last week – I say as I’m writing this sitting on the beach with a beer in hand – and it’s what I’ll do for the next week until I fly back to arusha. it will be very difficult to go back to inland africa after just having spent two blissful weeks on the coast. I have moments where I feel guilty for having two weeks off, I came to volunteer and I’ve loved what I managed to achieve – particularly in kenya. as much as we think life gets hard, it’s never as hard as it is for some people here in africa. so whilst I’m loving relaxing and trying to switch off, particularly from my reasonably imminent return back home and then the bloody scary reality of applying for a job with ambulance victoria will hit, the kids at little ray of hope and trying to get the eight of them ready for formal school sponsored are never far from my mind.

running in circles, chasing our tails

huge apologies to those of you wondering where I’ve dropped off the face of the earth to, it has been so long since I’ve written an update.

to be honest, it’s because I haven’t had lots to write home about. I mean, I could’ve easily written about the severe diarrhoea I’ve had off an on for the past couple of weeks and the very intimate relationship I’ve had with the toilets in my house (sorry, oversharing is caring), but I’m pretty sure that’s not what you want to read about. bit just a little on that topic, this is now my sixth month in africa, and seventh month away from home, I can’t believe I’m still dealing with such a temperamental stomach. someone please remind me to enquire about an entire gastrointestinal transplant when I get home. one of my friends I made volunteering in kenya, richard (who’s a fellow aussie), uploaded an instagram picture and used the quote “used my butt as a trumpet filled with soup” when he and a mate were sick. it couldn’t be more true.

okay sorry, enough ‘toilet talk’. but being sick and confined to either my bed or a toilet has made time absolutely fly – I’ve already been in tanzania for a month now.

for a couple of my weekends here, I’ve spent my saturdays helping a really lovely girl alice, from england, help build a new house for a mama she met here in arusha when first volunteering in 2010. I got in contact with her through the tanzania volunteer group on a facebook when I was still in kenya as she was asking if anyone wanted to help out on their spare weekends. figuring I’d have not much else to do when I’m not at work, I let her know I’d be keen. long story short, I’ve been for two of the saturdays that I’ve been in tanzania helping with whatever needs help with at the house. god it is strenuous work, I don’t know how alice has been doing it at least six days a week for the last five or so weeks. incredible.
things we’ve helped to do include excavating existing dirt and clay that was piled up after digging the 12m hole for the squat toilet, hacking away at the existing clay retaining wall behind the new house, scrape off concrete from the newly installed doors and window frames, sanding down said doors and window frames with a piece of sandpaper and a machete and a steel wire brush, painting the doors and window frames… it has been amazing to be a small part of such a huge project. click here to check out alice’s website for a much more detailed re-cap of all she’s achieved.

work at my clinic has still been quite interesting, including a day of working solely with a midwife doing fundal height measurements and listening for a heartbeat with an archaic tool that looks like a funnel, as well as spending time doing ‘growth and monitoring’ on bubs, which occurs every month until about the age of 4 years. it’s a bloody great system – they have a scale suspended from the ceiling (like you see in the fruit and veggie shop) and all the mothers hand make these little jumpsuit things that has a loop that hooks onto the scale, so their bub is suspended (which most of the kids hate) but it’s fast, efficient and easy. I’d then record their weight on a brochure like piece of paper and any serious abnormalities compared to the last time they were weighed, I had to report to the midwife. luckily there were no bubs on this day who were malnourished or weighed significantly less than they did a month prior. africa might be behind in a lot of things, but this is advanced to the max.
also gave polio, tetanus, and rotavirus meds/injections to newborns and as much as it was awful making them cry, at least these kids are getting vaccinated like we all were.

I really love living at the volunteer house now, obviously I didn’t when I first got here, but it’s buckets of fun and the bunch of people living here now are a great group and we all get along really well. just took a bit of getting used to living with 20+ other people. it’s so nice coming home to friends asking how your day was, as well as asking how everyone else’s days were. we all have such different experiences at our respective workplaces. I would love to visit a couple of orphanages while I’m here, apparently they’re really well orchestrated here in arusha – including a baby orphanage that I’m really looking forward to hopefully visiting.
also couldn’t be happier that I decided to buy a ukulele when I was in germany, it’s getting a good workout here in tanzania – sitting around the outside fire pit of an evening with a few beers having a singalong is probably my idea of heaven… glad there’s a scottish bloke called iain who is more than happy to join in so I’m not singing all alone. we’ve treated everyone to a rendition of “the four chord song” by axis of awesome (you should youtube it) and added extra songs in as well. but it’s making me really miss my guitar.

okay i guess now that I’ve written all that, I did have stuff to write home about. apologies for being slack.

it’s hard to believe I’m on the home stretch now, about 5 weeks until I’m back on australian soil. christmas looks like it will be loads of fun here, about 10 or so other volunteers spending the holiday in arusha – see what happens when it arrives! can’t believe I got to africa on the 30th of june and now it’s december. if anyone needs a reminder of how fast time goes, do volunteer work… it flies.

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.

somewhere deep inside, something’s got a hold on you

the day finally arrived! my very own medical camp, made possible through the generous donations of all of you and the amazing anna.

the days leading up to saturday saw us getting more and more excited; anna spent a good couple of hours sticky-taping a toothpaste box to the back of a toothbrush (all 200 of them), last minute phone calls from marcus telling me about the shit he had to deal with from certain organisations (this country can be so exhausting), heading into the city centre in heavy traffic to buy stethoscopes and BP cuffs to use on the day and then to give as donations for the future medical camps… it was as exciting as it was stressful. but it was so goddamn worth it.

rubiri primary school grounds

I hardly slept on friday night – partially due to the fact we had a few beers with some other volunteers at our local bar & may have been a bit inebriated – but also because I was so excited. something we had been planning for a while was finally happening and was now coming to life.

a very early morning saw me up at 6am (although I was awake well before then) and getting a matatu with anna and her friend nikki, who helped out, to meet the other volunteers (ashley, richard and sarah) at the local shopping centre just before 7am so we could get going, naivasha is about 2hrs from nairobi in good traffic. we arrived just after 9am, and the best part was seeing patients already waiting when we arrived. I was actually a little worried, partially due to the fact that the camp was being held in a really rural location – rubiri primary school, on the outskirts of naivasha – and for patients to get there, they would have either had to get a piki piki (motorbike) which would cost money that not many people have, or to walk for quite a few hours. so seeing people there made me grin like an absolute loser.

patients already waiting to be seen

the biggest thing I’ve learnt about medical camps is that it’s not about the number of people who come. you don’t want to have huge huge numbers of people who come because you’d be so pressed for time and resources, they wouldn’t get the care and treatment they deserve. it’s about the quality of the care they receive, that each patient is listened to and treated accordingly.

a slightly negative part of the lead up to the camp was the crap marcus had to deal with from certain groups of people – apparently there was some shit storm about the people who we had organised to do the HIV testing, apparently the certificates held by the ‘testers’ were different to what is normally accepted and the testers would have to be met to assess their ability; ridiculous, considering these people are qualified and would have been doing what they do for quite some time. it sounded like they weren’t happy about us having HIV testing available at the camp… and this only came to light a couple of days before saturday. we couldn’t take away the HIV testing only a few days before; it had been advertised in the flyers we had printed and via the community health workers who had a loud speaker and we going through the surrounding villages and towns telling people to come on saturday. there’s a massive importance on the role of trust; patients have to feel as though they can trust whoever is treating them, otherwise they would never come back to another camp. if we took away something we had promised would be at the camp, would these patients trust anything we said again? simply put, no. there was a lot riding on this camp too as KCC are hoping to build a primary school just next to rubiri primary school. this was to be the chance that the people in the area would get to know KCC and what they’re all about, and they would trust that we’re delivering what we say we will deliver. and seeing the amazing work that KCC has done in their early development schools, for them to have their own primary school would be amazing; hence this camp being a big deal.

a classic example of the political bullshit we have to deal with here in kenya. it’s so hard to do something good for others when you’re jumping through hoops trying to make everyone happy.

the camp started at about 10:30am, a little bit behind schedule but there was lots to be done once we arrived. even though marcus, anna (a different one) and steinar, plus a few others, were already there and had clearly been getting things organised, we had to sweep the floors of the classrooms we’d be working in, figure out what classrooms would be used for cervical cancer screening and HIV testing and black out the windows for privacy, set up the registration area (and later a tent to protect flavia and anna (the norwegian one) from the blazing sun), set up the pharmacy with all the medications we had in stock, organise desks into makeshift tables for doctor/patient conversations etc etc. lots to do, but lots of hands make light work. and man, did we have a lot of hands!

getting organised!

after the debacle of gaining a medical licence for the day (the kenyan government got incredibly strict about ensuring only qualified medical professionals work in a volunteer capacity, enforcing that volunteers need to ‘purchase’ a licence in order to work here. it is a really important thing that has happened though, which I’m glad to have been to first one to get it organised so future medical volunteers can easily get it sorted.) mine cost $100 which covers me for a month, even though I only needed it to work one day – and even then it wasn’t like I was doing anything that would put anyone’s lives in any danger, all I was just gonna do was work in triage – taking patients vital signs… that’s hardly cause for concern. bloody political drama, but that’s a story to be told another day with a few beers.

triage, hectic as per usual

little leo had his first ever checkup

patients receiving their uji/porridge

the day flowed really well; richard, ashley and nikki helped with the public education forums and did a fantastic job. we had oral hygiene, hand washing, germs and reproductive health (a lady from kenya red cross did that talk) and every child got a toothbrush and toothpaste, then we had enough for almost all of the adults.

the tooth brushing talk

the hand washing talk

handing out toothbrushes and toothpastes

anna practising hand washing with some kids

statistics wise, we had 229 patients who registered: 50 women had cervical cancer screening, 50 patients volunteered to be tested – 31 of which had never been tested before… that is an incredible result. to have 31 people now know their status when before they had no idea is fantastic! there was also a room for family planning, we also had immunisations should any kids need them but only one had a measles injection – didn’t have any other kids needing any. but at least we were prepared.

eating lunch while we work

cleaning the uji cups

sah hipster

we saw our last patient at about 3:30pm, although I’m sure a couple of extras came later on. the long task of packing up everything, including medications that we’re left over (counting them as well), putting the desks back into the classrooms, taking down the blackout shades, cleaning all the dishes from the day. by the time we had our debrief, it was time to head home. anna and I were going to go to a festival that night but decided against it a few days prior, as I was leaving so soon and wanted to spend as much time with my host family as possible. turns out we were so exhausted we probably would’ve collapsed the second we had a beer and listening to some music! it always surprises me how tired I am after medical camps; this was my fourth one in four months, and each time I feel like I come home and pass out. whether it’s just the long day in general, or having to use the ‘medical knowledge’ part of my brain – which I’m not really using here – I always sleep like a log that night!

we were definitely delirious by this stage

honestly this camp couldn’t have been done without the huge support and organisation of marcus, of the KCC slum project. the fact that he can organise a medical camp amongst all of the other work he does at KCC is amazing, and hugely appreciated. also a big thanks to the volunteers from NVS, staff from kijabe mission hospital, district ministry of health, NHIF, kenya red cross, the public health office, area administration and of course, where we held the camp, rubiri primary school.

and of course, you guys. all of you who donated to my “taking healthcare to kenya” fund, this happened thanks to you. what I’ve done in kenya over the past 4 months hasn’t been as medical as what I thought it would be, and you’ve all been so supportive of ‘little ray of hope’, where I’ve spent the majority of my time, and some of the donation money. but I was over the moon to do something medical – your donations went towards the meeting that was held a month ago with all of the above mentioned organisations, buying medications for the patients, ensuring we had an allowance for the staff members who worked during the day (only kenyans received this), printing flyers to give to the kids at rubiri primary school to give to their family and neighbours, purchasing enough toothbrushes and toothpaste for almost every patient, buying the HIV test kits, mobilising community health workers in the days prior with loud speakers to get the word out, purchasing my medical licence so I could actually work during the day, ensuring we had food for the patients during the day, transport of goods and volunteers, providing lunch for the staff who worked during the day… there are so many more things but I honestly can’t think of them now (when the report of the day is written, then I can let you know!)

the a-team

thank you, thank you, thank you. I can’t say it enough.