Final Kenya Email- August 1, 2006
Yesterday I gave my first Kenyan swimming lesson in the riana (river) located about 15 minutes from our hut. The river is a main source of water in Lwala and people use it to bathe (I see little naked kids splashing around in the water with their moms while they get a bath all the time), "quench" the cows (walk the cows down to the river to drink) and to do laundry (but not white clothes because the water is too dirty). The water is so brown it's almost orange, has a strong current and winds around through the shade of tall, leafy trees. On my last day in Lwala, Sarah, Grace, Dada, Olga, Toby, Onyango, Apiyo and I went swimming together in a part of the river that seems more like a swimming hole. Apiyo, this sweet little 6-year-old girl who just lost both her front teeth and has this ridiculously cute grin, doesn't knowhow to swim and neither does her little 4-year old brother, Onyango. I figured they wouldn't get in the water, but after the rest of us jumped in the river, I looked up and saw Apiyo and Onyango- naked as can be- waiting to jump in and swim. So for the next 2 hours, I held each one of them in the water while they kicked around and gathered enough courage to dunk their faces under water- shivering the entire time!
So sadly this will be my last email from Kenya (for now)... I left Lwala this morning after a tearful goodbye and am currently in Nairobi awaiting a flight to the US. My last few days in Lwala couldn't have been any more perfect; the sunset last night was a brilliant orange and purple- characteristic of the breathtaking African sky. After the sun disappeared in the horizon the stars couldn't have been any brighter- it was an unusually clear night. While I was taking my routine bucket shower last night (the place where we shower is outside- kind of feels like something out of Gilligan's Island) I felt as though I could see every star in the universe. It was incredible. We had my favorite Lwala meal for dinner, leso (lentil soup) with rice and sukuma (kale) and played a final card game of "BS" with the entire family. Also, the wife of my friend Jacktone (his family donated the land for the Ochieng' clinic) had a healthy baby girl yesterday! Min Naomi delivered at a traditional birth attendant's hut and was home 5 hours afterwards. Before dinner we went over to visit the baby girl, who they named Abbie Auma.
About a week ago I spent two nights at Sally Orphanage, which was an experience I'm grateful to have had... I walk away from that orphanage a changed person- changed by the kids who would cling to me every day, desperate for love and affection, letting go only to take their ARV's in order to calm the HIV rampant in their little bodies. SallyOrphanage is located near the Tanzania border, in an area where HIV rates are actually as high as 40%. forty percent. The number is so high it takes repeating it over and over to really grasp its meaning. It means that the death rate is so high in this area that the government is running out of land in which to bury people. Molly, the woman who runs the orphanage, took me on a walk around the orphanage and I was devastated by what I saw. Parts of the village, Kokuro, were almost ghost towns. Hut after hut after hut was empty... because all their occupants were dead from AIDS. Overgrown grass, crumbling huts, boarded doors with messages written on them in white chalk such as"THIS IS THE TRUTH" and "NO ENTRY" were the only remains of entire families. The silence of the village was eerie and sent shivers down my back. Entire homesteads (with 5 or 6 huts) were empty- mother, father, grandmother, grandfather, aunts, uncles had all died of AIDS-except for one or two 17 year olds who were in charge of all thechildren left in the family. I met a 17 year old, Emily, who was the eldest of 40... yes, 40... AIDS orphans in a single homestead (it's what happens when women are in remote villages, have no access to birth control, and don't have any say in using condoms). Emily was a mother who got pregnant after sleeping with a sugar cane worker in a field who offered her 100 shillings (the equivalent of $1.50). She accepted the offer because she hadn't eaten in 3 days. About 80 children sleep at the orphanage every night, but Molly takes care of 120 kids around the area (the remaining children come during the day to eat, but sleep at home alone in their empty huts because there's no more room at the orphanage). All kids that are of age attend school.. The first morning at the orphanage I helped one of the 4 women who live and work there feed, bathe, lotion and dress 10 babies (all under 12 months). Holding, rocking and bottle feeding the babies was the best part of my day (even though I kept worrying that the only milk the babies were receiving was cow's milk.. which doesn'thave enough nutrients to adequately nourish a growing baby.. they need formula). Each baby arrived at the orphanage with their own heart-wrenching story; many of their mothers died during labor, the rest were left lying alone in their huts crying (with their dead mother or father- from AIDS) until someone discovered them and brought them to Molly's. Ugh, it makes me so sad.
The orphanage itself is very well organized, however, and the children seem to be pretty happy given their circumstances. Molly is so wonderful with the children- she loves those kids so much. The kids are well-fed, they are clean (everyone bathes in the morning- the kids all line up to get a bucket bath before school- it's pretty cute), they sleep on clean sheets, have mosquito nets, and are very respectful and well behaved (thanks to Molly's guidance). Every night after dinner the little kids crowd in to Molly's living room and watch tv together (she has a solar panel and a generator- no electricity) while the older ones do homework. Picture about 30 kids crowded into a small, bright living room with pretty curtains and doilies on the furniture, watching a small tv and giggling loudly at everything that's even remotely funny. Each night I was there I had about 5 kids cuddling with me on a couch (one on my lap, 2 on each side) while the tv was on. They'd all be asleep within 10 minutes and at bedtime, Molly and I would carry them into their beds. Molly is changing the course of these kids' lives. I was so moved and inspired by her devotion her children.
There's been a lot going on in Lwala, too. Last week some funding forHIV/AIDS testing came in from a group of college kids doing a documentary (they stayed in Lwala for 3 days and interviewed a bunchof us for this film they're making…check it out atwww.85broads.com/destinationinvest). Within 3 days, over 300 people came to get an HIV test, which is completely unheard of. The students provided enough money for counselors from a private testing center to set up shop in the Ochieng' clinic, making it so much easier for people to get tested. Normally for an HIV test, a person would have to walk for about 3 hours. We were so encouraged by the village's response- people actually wanting to get tested. The entire 8th grade at the local primary school even got tested. The rates for HIV were around 25%, which reiterates the importance of having treatment and support for people who are HIV positive in the Lwala clinic. As wonderful as all the testing is, however, it also means that several of my friends were found to be HIV positive… I was hit hard by the test results of one woman in particular who I've grown very close to this summer (whose husband is also positive). She calls me "her best friend" and is the mother of Apiyo, Onyango, Harrison, Rastus andToby…kids who feel like my little siblings. The Kenyan government recently began supplying free ARV's for people found to be HIV positive-which is great- but the nearest healthcare facility where this is available is so far away that it's extremely difficult to get treatment. I'm terrified that she won't be able to treat her HIV properly… and then what happens to those kids when she's too sick to take care of them? This is part of the reason why it was so painful for me to leave Lwala. I can't bear to see those kids become the orphans I saw in Kokuro and will be on the next flight to Kenya ifanything happens to their parents.
My friend Patty sent me this quote from a woman who has had experience living in Africa:
"we learned that to simply see is one of the hardest, most powerful gifts one human being can give to another. We were challenged daily to hold the paradox of hope and despair in delicate balance, recognizing that to favor one over the other is to stereotype a profound and compelling collection of economic, cultural, and behavioral circumstances..."
I've found that my time in Kenya has been just what this quote addresses: an incredible balance of both hope and despair. I've experienced some of the hardest moments of my life here. I've seen some of the most devastating sights (patient dying of TB, woman gored by a bull, extremely sick babies, poverty beyond belief)- followed by some of the most beautiful and inspirational (children's smiles, dancing to drums, African skies, Molly with the children, Susan building her clinic, Fred and Miltons' work in their community, graciousness abound). I have such hope for Lwala. I have seen incredibly capable, intelligent people in Lwala leading the effort to build the clinic and I know the impact the clinic will have on the community will be truly immeasurable. There is so much good that can be (and has been) done in Lwala- and when I think of Lwala's future I get really excited- and not only for Lwala- for much of rural Kenya. I leave Kenya incredibly grateful for my experience and with the hope that I can encourage others to become equally touched by what's happening in Lwala and around Africa. There's so much good that we(students, teachers, role models, friends, human beings) can collectively accomplish…
Ok I need to run, my flight leaves soon- but I plan on sending an email of pictures when I get back to the US.
Oriti!
LOVE, Abbie
So sadly this will be my last email from Kenya (for now)... I left Lwala this morning after a tearful goodbye and am currently in Nairobi awaiting a flight to the US. My last few days in Lwala couldn't have been any more perfect; the sunset last night was a brilliant orange and purple- characteristic of the breathtaking African sky. After the sun disappeared in the horizon the stars couldn't have been any brighter- it was an unusually clear night. While I was taking my routine bucket shower last night (the place where we shower is outside- kind of feels like something out of Gilligan's Island) I felt as though I could see every star in the universe. It was incredible. We had my favorite Lwala meal for dinner, leso (lentil soup) with rice and sukuma (kale) and played a final card game of "BS" with the entire family. Also, the wife of my friend Jacktone (his family donated the land for the Ochieng' clinic) had a healthy baby girl yesterday! Min Naomi delivered at a traditional birth attendant's hut and was home 5 hours afterwards. Before dinner we went over to visit the baby girl, who they named Abbie Auma.
About a week ago I spent two nights at Sally Orphanage, which was an experience I'm grateful to have had... I walk away from that orphanage a changed person- changed by the kids who would cling to me every day, desperate for love and affection, letting go only to take their ARV's in order to calm the HIV rampant in their little bodies. SallyOrphanage is located near the Tanzania border, in an area where HIV rates are actually as high as 40%. forty percent. The number is so high it takes repeating it over and over to really grasp its meaning. It means that the death rate is so high in this area that the government is running out of land in which to bury people. Molly, the woman who runs the orphanage, took me on a walk around the orphanage and I was devastated by what I saw. Parts of the village, Kokuro, were almost ghost towns. Hut after hut after hut was empty... because all their occupants were dead from AIDS. Overgrown grass, crumbling huts, boarded doors with messages written on them in white chalk such as"THIS IS THE TRUTH" and "NO ENTRY" were the only remains of entire families. The silence of the village was eerie and sent shivers down my back. Entire homesteads (with 5 or 6 huts) were empty- mother, father, grandmother, grandfather, aunts, uncles had all died of AIDS-except for one or two 17 year olds who were in charge of all thechildren left in the family. I met a 17 year old, Emily, who was the eldest of 40... yes, 40... AIDS orphans in a single homestead (it's what happens when women are in remote villages, have no access to birth control, and don't have any say in using condoms). Emily was a mother who got pregnant after sleeping with a sugar cane worker in a field who offered her 100 shillings (the equivalent of $1.50). She accepted the offer because she hadn't eaten in 3 days. About 80 children sleep at the orphanage every night, but Molly takes care of 120 kids around the area (the remaining children come during the day to eat, but sleep at home alone in their empty huts because there's no more room at the orphanage). All kids that are of age attend school.. The first morning at the orphanage I helped one of the 4 women who live and work there feed, bathe, lotion and dress 10 babies (all under 12 months). Holding, rocking and bottle feeding the babies was the best part of my day (even though I kept worrying that the only milk the babies were receiving was cow's milk.. which doesn'thave enough nutrients to adequately nourish a growing baby.. they need formula). Each baby arrived at the orphanage with their own heart-wrenching story; many of their mothers died during labor, the rest were left lying alone in their huts crying (with their dead mother or father- from AIDS) until someone discovered them and brought them to Molly's. Ugh, it makes me so sad.
The orphanage itself is very well organized, however, and the children seem to be pretty happy given their circumstances. Molly is so wonderful with the children- she loves those kids so much. The kids are well-fed, they are clean (everyone bathes in the morning- the kids all line up to get a bucket bath before school- it's pretty cute), they sleep on clean sheets, have mosquito nets, and are very respectful and well behaved (thanks to Molly's guidance). Every night after dinner the little kids crowd in to Molly's living room and watch tv together (she has a solar panel and a generator- no electricity) while the older ones do homework. Picture about 30 kids crowded into a small, bright living room with pretty curtains and doilies on the furniture, watching a small tv and giggling loudly at everything that's even remotely funny. Each night I was there I had about 5 kids cuddling with me on a couch (one on my lap, 2 on each side) while the tv was on. They'd all be asleep within 10 minutes and at bedtime, Molly and I would carry them into their beds. Molly is changing the course of these kids' lives. I was so moved and inspired by her devotion her children.
There's been a lot going on in Lwala, too. Last week some funding forHIV/AIDS testing came in from a group of college kids doing a documentary (they stayed in Lwala for 3 days and interviewed a bunchof us for this film they're making…check it out atwww.85broads.com/destinationinvest). Within 3 days, over 300 people came to get an HIV test, which is completely unheard of. The students provided enough money for counselors from a private testing center to set up shop in the Ochieng' clinic, making it so much easier for people to get tested. Normally for an HIV test, a person would have to walk for about 3 hours. We were so encouraged by the village's response- people actually wanting to get tested. The entire 8th grade at the local primary school even got tested. The rates for HIV were around 25%, which reiterates the importance of having treatment and support for people who are HIV positive in the Lwala clinic. As wonderful as all the testing is, however, it also means that several of my friends were found to be HIV positive… I was hit hard by the test results of one woman in particular who I've grown very close to this summer (whose husband is also positive). She calls me "her best friend" and is the mother of Apiyo, Onyango, Harrison, Rastus andToby…kids who feel like my little siblings. The Kenyan government recently began supplying free ARV's for people found to be HIV positive-which is great- but the nearest healthcare facility where this is available is so far away that it's extremely difficult to get treatment. I'm terrified that she won't be able to treat her HIV properly… and then what happens to those kids when she's too sick to take care of them? This is part of the reason why it was so painful for me to leave Lwala. I can't bear to see those kids become the orphans I saw in Kokuro and will be on the next flight to Kenya ifanything happens to their parents.
My friend Patty sent me this quote from a woman who has had experience living in Africa:
"we learned that to simply see is one of the hardest, most powerful gifts one human being can give to another. We were challenged daily to hold the paradox of hope and despair in delicate balance, recognizing that to favor one over the other is to stereotype a profound and compelling collection of economic, cultural, and behavioral circumstances..."
I've found that my time in Kenya has been just what this quote addresses: an incredible balance of both hope and despair. I've experienced some of the hardest moments of my life here. I've seen some of the most devastating sights (patient dying of TB, woman gored by a bull, extremely sick babies, poverty beyond belief)- followed by some of the most beautiful and inspirational (children's smiles, dancing to drums, African skies, Molly with the children, Susan building her clinic, Fred and Miltons' work in their community, graciousness abound). I have such hope for Lwala. I have seen incredibly capable, intelligent people in Lwala leading the effort to build the clinic and I know the impact the clinic will have on the community will be truly immeasurable. There is so much good that can be (and has been) done in Lwala- and when I think of Lwala's future I get really excited- and not only for Lwala- for much of rural Kenya. I leave Kenya incredibly grateful for my experience and with the hope that I can encourage others to become equally touched by what's happening in Lwala and around Africa. There's so much good that we(students, teachers, role models, friends, human beings) can collectively accomplish…
Ok I need to run, my flight leaves soon- but I plan on sending an email of pictures when I get back to the US.
Oriti!
LOVE, Abbie
posted by abbie at 12:47 PM
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