Worlds Apart

Well, I am not even sure where to start. My failure to blog is a reflection of the jam-packed, action-packed past week I have had. Has it truly only been a week? That seems impossible.
Last Thursday I went on home hospice visits to a nearby village. We crammed into the hospital's van and set out to check up on patients who are unable to come to the hospital for care. The van bounced along the dirt road, gospel blaring with the 3 nurses singing loudly along. Anne, Kari, Mary, DeDe and I hummed along and I studied the roads. A very simple thing, yes, but it symbolizes so much about my journey thus far. The roads are a rich red/orange color, constantly changing in width and texture, winding beautifully around small mud huts and excited children. These same roads offer a soft surface for my morning runs, a bumpy washboard for our road trip to Ruaha National Park, and narrow paths reaching the most rural and most vulnerable populations. As many of these experiences are, the home visits were difficult to grasp. The most amazing part of the whole visit was finding out what the purpose of the home visit actually was: spirit. We had a box full of pain meds and antibiotics, and while we assessed the patient's physical conditions, much of the visit was spent laughing and singing with the patient and their families. The visit ended with a prayer to continue to protect the sick patient, and we would be on our way to the next home. Such an incredibly powerful experience. Three of the patients greeted us with "oh, white people are here, god must still love me." This of course, was translated through the nurse, but I couldn't help but to feel uneasy by this comment.
We were out in this village for about 6-7 hours, and returned to quickly inhale food and go on to the next emotional experience: Amani Orphanage. 55 children greeted us, one being the 2 year old, Henrietta, that was a living example of the power of a nutritional supplement, Plumpy'Nut. Tears filled my eyes when I saw this child, hearing stories of her fragile body just a year ago when Ken saw her, staring back at me with plump cheeks and lively eyes. I have the children on video singing and dancing for us, which again, brought more tears. The orphanage itself was one of the most impressive places I have ever been. The kids and staff live completely off the land, with a beautiful farm behind the buildings. They have pigs, cows, chickens, they grow their own mushrooms and vegetables and fruits. The methane from the cow manure is transfered through a pipe to cook the food. I was in awe.

Friday was travel day. We woke up an hopped on the bus to get to Tungamulenga (sp?), a village about 2.5 hours away. Bega Kwa Bega, the organization through which this entire experience is possible, provided support to these villages for building wells, churches, or schools. These congragations were companion congregations to many congregations in the Twin Cities. We visited 4 villages to see the progress. These visits unbelievable. The first village, the Masai men and women performed a jumping/vibrating dance that I could have watched for hours. The Masai women are simply stunning. We were given food and drink at every church and the last church even auctioned off a chicken in our honor. Pretty awesome.

The next morning we set off to Ruaha National Park for a Safari. Every day of this trip seems to get more surreal. We were treated like royalty (I never got the hang of having my chair pulled in and out) and stayed in the most whimsical quarters. We had open air bandas with a tent that zipped during the night. The safari animals were sometimes spotted outside the quarters, and we even had a bamboo steal on of our traveler's sugar jar on the coffee tray. And the food, oh the food. We all had not seen fresh vegetables for days, so we piled our plates high. We then set out to see animals! Zebras, elephants, lions, a jaguar, giraffes, they just kept coming. To see these animals in their natural environment was just incredible. I felt like I was in a movie. I do not have the pics uploaded to my computer yet, but hopefully can post come later. We had 3 4 hour trips of this excitement, giggling all the way, trying to sight the tiny "Dik-dik" and getting roared at by protective elephant mothers.

Every time I step out the door here, there is a chance to learn. Whether it be the gestation of an elephant (22 months!!) or the symptoms of dysentery, it is never ending. I feel so incredibly lucky every moment of being here and even more lucky to still have 2 weeks to go. We lost about half our group this morning. It was so sad to see all of the amazing doctors and nurses leave, but we still have good old Ken and Gary to guide us through.

This morning during rounds, I distributed my first packet of plumpy'nut. The two year old had malaria and did not have an appetite, so hadn't eaten for the past two days. While he was not noticeably "wasted," it was almost guaranteed he was malnourished. Of all the dreams I have already accomplished being here, this experience was very powerful because I felt like I made a direct impact on this child's well-being. My innate need to nourish was fulfilled and I felt complete. However, the next patient was not as easy to treat. A 4 month old with a hemoglobin of 2.8 gm/dL (normal is around 10-14)
Her little chest was rising and falling so fast I could not stand it. With a Hb this low, they perform blood transfusions here. The only problem: there was no donated blood. I immediately offered mine, and the doctors joked I would turn her into a mzungu (white person). After further assessment, turns out I am not allowed to donate since I just received vaccinations for this trip. Laura, the pharm resident, did not receive vaccinations this trip, so was able to come to the rescue. I can rest easy. I am going to check on the babe after this.
Well, that is the tired version of my past few days (we are all exhausted!) but hopefully I will have more energy to contribute more later. What beauty there is in this life and culture. I am, as always, unable to fully articulate the admiration and appreciation I have for these people and this experience.