Habari Yako!

Habari Yako!

I apologize it has been a while via telephone...internet...anything! My cell phone died on Tuesday and the Western Province did not have any power for the better part of the week. I breezed through some of my other blogs and was upset that they all sounded so doom and gloom. I do have my moments (actually a lot of them), but overall I know I am gaining experience, knowledge, perspective, etc. It still kills me that I can't contribute more (whether it be monetary or not), but I am doing the best I can. My KiSwahili vocabulary has improved three-fold but I am still on the JV team. I have still been keeping a journal diligently, so I can either write something when I return, or give you more later.

Let's see.....

This week I had to stitch a girls face who split her lip open after a spill. I have never stitched before and did a pretty poor job on mom's porch cushions, so I was a little apprehensive. The poor little eight year old is probably still numb from all the Lidocaine I injected her with, and I am afraid I may have caused a cosmetic catastrophe. I had to straddle the poor soul as her daddy held her arms and head. She comes back on Monday to get them removed....we will see how I did? YIKES!

Two weeks ago, I went home with Irene to her family's house about a 1/2 hour boda boda ride away. Her mom gave me a live chicken as a customary gift (I do have a picture documenting my face of appreciation/terror). I didn't know whether to name it, put a collar on it, or what? We recently had chicken for dinner and I haven't seen Henry lately : (

That boy is alive and well (thank goodness) I saw his schoolmate on the street and asked how he was feeling and he said, "All better!"

Poor little Alexi has malaria again. I cycled to the chemist who surprisingly is open on the weekend to get him some quinine and their version of tylenol. No sooner did I get it in him, he yacked all over the floor. You don't want to know how vomit is cleaned in the Bush....let's just say I had a flashback to elementary school when I saw the janitor dumping powder on a pile of barf. They don't like it when I pick him up and cuddle him (even though he is 5) because they say he is not a baby. It kills me not to be able to give him some tlc, because he is so sick.

I can't remember if I have mentioned my colleague Johnson or not. He's a magnificient person with a heart of gold. Not only does he support me through all my minor mental breakdowns, but he is financially supporting his family of ten (mom, dad, brothers, sisters, etc.) with food, school bills, etc. When I hear him talk about his struggles, I am so humbled because ALL of my problems that I have and have ever had pale in comparison. I am not sure how he stays so positive and level headed all the time.

He is pretty much my sole friend here, aside from Irene and Isaac because I am still not allowed to leave the house without someone. Coming to this little internet cafe in Nambale with Irene shopping nearby is pretty much the only alone time I get. I have not been able to access my emails and apologize that I can't respond to everyone ( Thank you Jo Jo and Sinead, I miss you dearly!). I sometimes can get on facebook (M+ D you should probably get one), and skype is way out of this areas league.

I should probably wrap things up because I think Irene is coming soon but I can't even express to you how much I miss everyone. I have noticed myself changing in more ways then I thought, but I am still the same Kyle. It's difficult to stifle some of my sense of humor sometimes...I am not sure how it would be received. The program director of WorldCorps is looking to place me in a hospital or a more English speaking area. In the meantime, I will be able to hang in there and hopefully not cause any poor child harm. Prescribing and treatment has become a lot more routine because it's a lot of the same diseases with the same drugs (just different weights).

Kenyans love American music and since the radio is always on in my house, it is my link back to Uncle Sam. They play the same 12 songs over and over again, a curious mix of Celine Dion, 98 degrees, Toto, Shania Twain, and some other one hit wonders from the 60's and 70's. Every time I hear the song "Red, Red, Wine" I think of how wonderful it would be to have an ice cold brew. Miss you all oodles and hope to chat soon!

Cheers,

Kyle