12/23/08
It is now 10:30pm on Tuesday night; last night we watched a movie and went to sleep early. Today, I had to take a boda motorcycle to the clinic because the driver was off. But let me tell you – there is nothing like a fast motorcycle drive in the early morning to wake you up. I got to the clinic around 8:15am and finally met Doctor Wafula, or Levert (pronounced “Levat”), gave him his gifts from Maital and family as well as some Hershey’s chocolate that I brought him. He thanked me again and again for the medical supplies we provided, and described to me the disorganization that surrounds the proper supply of protective-wear for doctors in clinics here. I went on rounds with the doctors and saw some patients that were still there form yesterday, and some new ones, but no crazy cases. Just a few more malaria patients. In the middle of rounds I left with the head midwife at the clinic and we walked a short distance (maybe a mile) to a village. We met with the midwife there, and I realized how apparent a distinction there is between the class that I often encounter in town and the people living less than a mile away. The culture seemed older, in that the women came to greet me and sat on the floor to shake my hand. They always remained lower than the man, like in The King and I. The midwife spoke no English but Zawija, the midwife from the clinic, was constantly translating for me. It is difficult to describe the situation without picture, but women deliver in a mud-hut just a mile from the main hospital. They lay on a papyrus mat which is cleaned with just water between births. The midwives lack gloves and are supposed to charge 5,000Ugh (= ~$2.50) per birth, but are usually only paid 200Ugh, which doesn’t even buy enough soap to wash their hands afterward, let alone gloves. Since these midwives report to the clinic and are given further training and refresher courses there, they are aware of the threat of AIDS and HIV due to unprotected deliveries. But it is their livelihood and they choose to do it anyway. The clinic secured money to buy tin roofs for the mud-hut delivery rooms in the villages. This way, the mud-hut doesn’t collapse onto the mother or baby during the rainy season.
We took bicycle bodas the rest of the day to villages throughout the valleys. We traveled as far as 45 minutes on bicycle, through trees and high grass. I took videos and pictures because it was such a strange experience for me. Off-road bicycling with nothing to hold onto and no way to see what’s coming ahead because your driver is sitting directly in front of you. And it was 90-something degrees out, without a single cloud. Brutal, long, but incredible day. We went to a total of 5 villages, all in these valleys and plains and forests. Whenever I saw a group of children, they would scream “muzungu” and chase after me waving and giggling. In some ways I felt like a zoo animal but it was adorable anyway to I waved back and smiled. When there were children in places we stopped, they would ask me to take a picture of them. When I then showed them the picture on the back of the digital camera, they got so excited they would jump around and dance and laugh. It was very cute and I wish I could have gotten video footage of it but it took them looking at the back of the camera in order to trigger the reaction. I saw some malnourished children with these large, swollen bellies. I wish I had brought plumpy-nut with me which happens to be available in town.
The situation was sad and these people were poorer than poor. One man was bathing in a roofless hut made of dried leaves when we came and just spoke to us over the top. One midwife asked me to take a picture of her and her husband and send it to them so she can hang it in the delivery mud-hut. There were flies buzzing around the mud-huts and the dirt floors are cleaned with…dirt. It is a very bad situation and again, difficult to describe without pictures. It is similar to what one would see on the Discover Channel or in National Geographic magazine. I actually pictured English subtitles in front of me whenever the women spoke. Nudity doesn’t seem to be a thing of concern and the people are happy. I want to say they don’t know any better but who knows, maybe they’re way of life is better. I think the best thing to say is I don’t think they know any differently.
The bumpy bicycle-riding did a number on my back, so when I got back to the clinic, I gathered my things and caught a ride to town with the Doctor who was bringing a computer to be fixed there. It was already around 3:30pm so no new patients were really coming. I bought some things in town, including 2 big bottles of water for a 4-hour hike tomorrow as
When I got back from town, I decided it was time to do my laundry. That means scrubbing, kneading, and wringing my clothing in these big plastic bins filled with soapy water. It took me 2 hours just to wash my clothes and rinse out the soap (mostly). Then I hung them all on two clothes lines outside. But the sun was setting and we were leaving for dinner and the night watchman had not yet arrived. So 20 minutes after I hung the clothes, I took them down and threw them over the chair in my room, soaking wet.
Anna and I then treated the whole family and Levert to dinner at the resort for Christmas. Anna, David, Matthew (Anne’s sons) and I sat in the back of the pickup truck that took us there, because we wanted to be those people. I think everyone had a really great time and they enjoyed not cooking dinner. When I got home I lit candles and now I think it is time for bed. Goodnight all and Happy Chanukah!
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