Hello From Busia Town!

Dear Family and Friends,

Greetings from Kenya! I apologize for the delay in my first post abroad, I don't think I had any idea how far into the bush I was going to be. I am sitting in an internet cafe in Busia, Kenya, which took about an hour to get to from my hut, by various means of transportation. The closest town to me is Nambale, but the actual village I am staying in is called Bumutiru. It has been quite the experience so far, and I have not slept very much. I have been running on adrenaline from pure culture shock!

Where to begin...I am living with a young couple, Isaac and Ireen in a 14X20 foot straw and cement hut with no running water, and a small lantern to keep things light after 7:30pm. They are really nice and accomodating, but it is hard to keep myself occupied with all of the down time. The biggest set back of all is that NONE of the locals speak English! I really wish I would have been told that before hand because I totally would have learned a few key phrases in Kiswahili. I am learning small vocabulary words slowely (mostly medical ones that help me at the clinic) but much of my day is spent in silence (unless I am talking to Ireen and Isaac). I will never complain about a dirty American bathroom ever again...the latrines are awful!

The clinic I am working at is not a hospital, though it does have a few beds for overnight stay. There is one nurse, one doctor, usually a student, and one lab tech. I was pretty much thrown right into things from day 1 and serve as the nurse, the doctor, the pharmacist, etc. I write prescriptions and often times give injections of the prescriptions I have just written. I live in constant fear that I have either written for the wrong drug, or misdiagnosed a patient. My training does not qualify for what I am doing, and the only crutch I have is a 1991 copy of the British formulary which I hold onto for dear life! I brought some medical supplies and a stethescope and BP cuff with me, which have magically disappeared. The hygiene practices at the clinic are what bother me most. They do not have running water so the only way you can wash your hands in by dumping a jug over your hands. Thank goodness I brought so much Purell!

The children are my favorite! They all wave to me everytime I pass by on my boda boda (motor bike) to work. White person is "Munzungoo" in Swahili which is one word I learned quickly. I can usually tell when people are talking about me, but I usually have no idea what they are saying. I get laughed at often because I have no idea how to do some of the daily living stuff. I have pretty much be appointed designated Molly Pitcher, because fetching water is one thing I have mastered. Drinking water is about a 1 1/2 walk both ways (and yes I learned how to carry it on my head!)

Kenyan culture couldn't be further from American culture, though I am slowly becoming accustomed to it. The women definitely take a back seat to the men, although you can see the nation is slowly moving towards becoming more Westernized. The government just passed a new constitution yesterday which hopefully will make some huge changes in the economy and political stability. Kenyans are absolutely obsessed with Obama and the fact that he is part Kenyan. Radios are constantly on everywhere, and I have heard more renditions and remixes of Toto's "Africa" then I ever thought were possible. The food is interesting... I can't say that it's awful, but I think it also helps that you can't really see your food in the dark or dimly lit rooms. I have eaten lots of bananas and lots of Ugali (a staple in their diet- it's like grainey play-dough with a less salty taste).

The Kenyan countryside is absolutely beautiful, although it is hard to appreciate it with all the poverty around. Most Kenyans live on less than a $1 a day which is why something like coming to an internet cafe is really hard to do. I am not sure when I will be able to come back next, so I am going to give my parents the info to update this blog via cell phone. I do have a cell phone and usually get service, although international charges are expensive. My number is 0701397405. I am going to try and call people, depsite the 7 hour time difference. I am keeping a diligent written journal of my adventures and experiences including my first house call to fix a botched and hemorrhaging male circumcision on a 15 year old boy. I felt terrible for the kid, who was fighting back tears the whole time... I knew he was in extraordinary pain. I did not have a suture kit with me, so I tied one of my t-shirts around it and sent him on a boda boda to the nearest hospital and prayed for the best. As soon as he left, I ran straight to the latrine and vomited. HIV is everywhere, but even worse is malaria. I diagnose and treat about 35-30 kids a day with malaria. Typhoid is also another biggie in this area.

I will update as much as I can, but I am certain it won't be as much as I a had once hoped. I miss everyone dearly and am already looking forward to returning in December.

Sending lots of love,

Kyle

Last Night in Ringoes

I am not at all surprised that I am still up at this hour...my head is spinning with excitement, anxiety, uncertainly and adventure, with a side of insomnia (from my new found favorite malaria drug, Malarone!) Side effects are said to include wild dreaming and it's no joke! Last night Nick and I went sailing on his new dingy sailboat only to be swallowed up by a mechanical shark with sharp metal teeth (and I swear I don't watch River Monsters!) I am so looking forward to falling asleep tonight because the dreams are sure to be wicked . . . and I am really surprised this drug doesn't have street value.

The last few days have been nothing short of crazy: errands, preparing, packing, and car accident included. I am pretty notorious for hitting stationary objects in parking lots, so yesterday was just a little reminder that I am still a bad driver with poor depth perception. Deciding to take Mom's car was my first mistake, pressing the accelerator instead of the brake before hitting the "PNC Customers Only" sign was my second. Of course it was in front of a huge window of investment bankers all looking at me like I am a crazy woman driver. They're correct.

So I go into the bank where I am greeted by investment banker # 1 who politely inquires "so you havin problems out there?" I apologize and then decide it's appropriate to tell him that I am moving to rural Africa where there aren't any cars. He laughs, then goes out to check out Mom's Lexus and his PNC property which is now at a 45 degree angle to the mulch and bush it once stood proudly in front of. I told the man I would be happy to pay for the damage (even though there really was nothing except for a bent sign.) He however, had different plans and told me to go home a get a shovel, dig out the knocked over sign and replant it in the mulch. I immediately call Nick and politely ask him to "come to PNC bank with a shovel, don't ask any questions, and don't tell Mom."

Nick comes and saves the day, digging the sign out and bending it back so it's now only slightly leaning. Thank goodness for loyal brothers! (Nick, I owe you a case of beer.) How about just a little humiliation before departing the country?

Less then 36 hours until I touch down in London-town! My goal is to eat as many Crunchy and Flake bars as my stomach will allow in the Heathrow Airport, before starting my third world weight loss plan. I am really really really going to miss everyone, but look forward to communicating via email krbahn@gmail.com and blog.

Lots of Love,
Kyle