Tyson Kombo Oloo

"Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart."  -Winnie the Pooh

Woah woah woah, my days are flying by, or, as the Kenyans would say, the days are really running. I’m leaving so soon and I can’t believe it. Where has a year gone? I have been extremely busy so I will make this blog post short. Before I write my goodbye post I need to fill my readers in on my little friend Tyson.

If you can’t remember, Tyson is a little boy who was admitted into TMH January 1^st of this year. He was comatose at the time of admission and was suffering from Malaria, Meningitis and severe anemia. This child almost died he was so sick. However, ten days later he recovered.  After fully recovering he was discharged, however, his family was unable to pay the hospital bill. A few days went by where Tyson and his mother were staying in our pediatric ward as discharge ins. Then, one day Tysons mother disappeared. With hope and reason to believe Tysons mother would return, Tyson was kept in the ward. However, Tysons mother never returned, still to this day.
 

Tyson in his hospital clothes.

 

Ten months later Tyson is still in our ward. Tyson has been abandoned at my hospital after nearly dying. To make the situation worse he had no relatives that were willing to take him. In addition, our hospital administration didn’t seem to be concerned that an uneducated five year old was living within our compound without anyone to care for him or anyone to take him to school. Frustrated and saddened by the situation, I took it upon myself to look for a solution to this horrific situation this innocent and sweet boy had been placed in. For the last 6 months I have been trying to have his guardianship transferred to the children’s office in S. Gucha county and have him sent to Maisha International Academy (the other organization I work with) to live at and attend school.
 

Tyson (the little one) and some of the

Staff workers children.

 

Childrens office.

 

To say it was difficult working with the bureaucracy here is an understatement! I don’t have enough words to describe the amount of obstacles and challenges Tyson and I have been through. I feel like I know everyone and all of Kisii County because of this child. I have met with his chiefs, the country commissioner, several social workers, police departments, and the head of the children’s office to make his case known. The only positive thing about meeting so many people is I got a lot of soda and tea out of each meeting. I have traveled by matatu, motor bike and foot visiting several villages looking for his parents. Finally after six months Tyson has received permission to leave TMH and go to school at Maisha International Academy.   

I will be going with my sweet little boy this week to Kisumu. For the first time in his life he will be going to school. It’s going to be a difficult adjustment for the both of us, since I have literally been his guardian for the last ten months, but, I know Tyson will be ok. Me on the other hand, I will probably cry for his first night away from me, his first day of school and all the way home. I seriously need to get ahold of myself, I’m becoming motherly!

Painting.

 

He loves playing with my hair.

 

Life, Love and War

 "There were all kinds of stories about war that made it sound as if it was happening in a faraway place and different land. It wasn't until the refugees started passing through our town that we began to see that it was actually taking place in our country. The children of these families wouldn't look at us, and they jumped at the sound of chopping wood or as stones landed on the tin roofs flung by children hunting birds with slingshots. The adults among these children from the war zones would be lost in their thoughts during conversations with the elders of my town. Apart from the fatigue and malnourishment it was evident they had seen something that plagued their minds, something that we would refuse to accept if they told us all of it." -Ishmael Beah

To think I have been here almost a year and I am no closer to making sense of this place; especially when it comes to topics such as life, love and war.

My work in the hospital continues, our pediatric charge nurse just recently returned from annual leave. With time and now adequate staffing on my side I requested to transfer wards to seek out an area of nursing I typically would not have the opportunity to pursue… theater. Needless to say, working in an operating room in a resource constrained community poses some difficulties. However, the conditions most patients present with are equally if not more challenging. It almost always makes for an interesting day.

Being here so long I have found a common theme among the wards. We have patients who suffer from needless tragedies as well as patients who make improbable recoveries, theater is no exception. For example a couple weeks ago I had a man admitted with urinary retention due to Benign prostatic hyperplasia, or, an enlarged prostate.  The man was in his fifties, strong and healthy, definitely not a patient you would expect to die. The next day on doctor rounds, I learned this man had literally dropped dead the evening before. As a nurse you ask yourself, “What the heck?!”. When talking to the family and clearing his bed it was discovery that five liters, yes five liters, of a local herbs was being stored under his bed. He was taking it in addition to the medicine being prescribed in the hospital. These local herbs are literally toxic to the body causing loss of consciousness, kidney and liver failure. For some reason unbeknownst to me, the people here believe it can cure anything!! There is a continuous struggle of traditional medicine verses modern medicine. Again, I have another patient die a preventable and tragic death. Although there are tragedies that cannot be foreseen there are also miracles that cannot be foreseen as well. In the same week I had a patient who was literally gutted like a fish with a “panga” (machete). The young man suffered from a collapsed lung, fractured ribs, a rupture spleen, and a fractured arm. Did I mention this injury happened about 24 hours prior to admission? I hate to say it, but I wasn’t too optimistic about his prognosis. However, a couple chest tubes, and three surgeries later he walked out of my hospital as good as you can be after an ordeal like that. Miracles and improbable recoveries are literally happening before my eyes.

Theater

 

In addition to the work I’ve been doing in Tabaka, I recently had the opportunity to travel to Rwanda for a wedding. It has been two years since I have been to Rwanda and I was so excited to go back. It was a very special trip for me for several reasons. One, because my good friend Angel was getting married, and two, because this was the country that not only solidified my love for volunteer work, but was also the country that made me fall in LOVE with the East African community. So away I went, but, like always not without trouble from immigrations. I won’t dwell too much on my immigrations issues, I’m sure you can imagine what it was like after my last horrifying experience. However, I have concluded one thing! No one, including the immigration officers seems to know the Kenyan immigration laws. It’s quite irritating to say the least.

Once I arrived safely to Rwanda I was immediately greeted by masked men and women at the airport. Ebola checkpoint. I was required to fill out a form asking where I lived, my profession and if I was sick in anyway. CRAP, if these people were more diligent I should have been stopped for more questioning. Where do you live? Kenya, red flag number one. What’s your profession? Nurse, big red flag number two. Have you been around any sick people within the last 21 days? Duh, of course… red flag number three! Have you been sick in the last 21 days? Shoot, when am I not sick here, red flag number 4!!! But, somehow after shooting their temperature gun at me I was allowed to pass, no questions asked. What a relief, Angel would have killed me if I missed her wedding.

 

 One of the many Ebola warning signs.

The following day was her wedding! Now weddings are a very funny thing in Africa. To me weddings always seem like more of a business arrangement than a celebration of love. I can’t speak for my friend Angel, however, in order to marry a lady in Rwanda and Kenya the families must first meet and discuss quite literally what the wife is worth. The dowry system is still commonly practiced here. Therefore, the man’s family must give the bride’s family a cow or money so the couple can be married. Traditionally it was cows. Now the younger generations are giving money. My friend Angel was worth three cows. I often joke with men by asking how many cows I am worth. I once got that I am worth ten!!!

During the dowry ceremony I had the honor of being one of the bridesmaids. Like everything else in Africa the dowry ceremony was a very slow, but an exciting process. It started first with the bride’s family arriving along with the wife and the bridesmaids. Immediately we were ushered into a back room, were we could not leave until the husbands family arrived and was settled. So the waiting began. Once the husband’s family had finally arrived, the bride’s family greeted them with handshakes and small talk. If you know anything about Africans you know they are VERY friendly and small talk can last for hours. Once greetings were exchanged and everyone took their seats, the bride’s family sat on one side and the groom’s family on the other. That seems pretty normal; however, there was a distinct difference from the American way. They were facing each other staring directly at one another. Now we were allowed out of the room. Like a row of ducklings baring gifts we followed each other outside. You might ask what the gifts were for. In the African culture each of your bridesmaids gives a gift to the immediate family members of the groom. As if we were playing pewee soccer we followed each other around the venue looking for the family members that were randomly seated among the crowd.

After the gifts were handed out, the husband and wife took their seats on what looked like a small throne. The groomsmen had seats on the stage and the bridesmaids sat on the floor…Oh Africa. We were given Fanta soda and drank while the bride and grooms family awkwardly starred at each other. Next, three “cowboys” came and did a traditional song and dance. Each “cowboy” represented the cow that was given to bride’s family. They sang and danced about the cow’s personalities and what good fortune the cow would bring to the family. Although I didn’t understand a word of it (since it was in Kinyarwanda) I still really enjoyed it. Finally, the ceremony concluded with a traditional African meal and the bride and grooms family drinking milk from a gorge. The milk was from the cows of the dowry. It was very special to watch both families drinking the milk together, representing the union of two families.

My friend Nicolas and I before the wedding

Angel and her husband

The happy couple

Presenting the gifts.

Groomsmen and bridesmaids

 

The remaining days in Rwanda I was able to meet up and collaborate with the organization We Are Limitless founded by a friend of mine Matt Leutwyler and helped managed by Rebbecca Ocampo.  Do you really think I could go to Rwanda and not work? Two years ago Matt and I met in Rwanda. At the time we were both volunteers, he was volunteering at Noel Orphanage and I was volunteering at both Noel and Murara Health Clinic. Most of the children are orphans as a result of HIV/AIDs or the genocide in 1994.  Seeing a great need for these children he established We Are Limitless (WAL); a foundation that focuses on providing education to orphaned children. Since then WAL has expanded into the Democratic Republic of Congo.

During my two days collaborating with WAL we greeted the children in their sponsorship program in Rwanda. It was great seeing these children because all of them I know from two years prior. It is truly incredible to see how education can transform a person. On our last day we crossed over into the Democratic Republic of Congo. We had to once again endure more Ebola screenings and deal with the corrupt boarder control. I have had my fair share of poverty and working in violent areas but immediately crossing into the DRC I was overcome with this dark and ominous feeling. It is literally the most daunting and heartbreaking place I have ever walked into. The sky was dark, the earth was black from volcanic rock, and trash littered the roads. Unlike the other African countries I have been to the children of the DRC ran from me. I was not greeted with friendly smiles or children screaming “muzungu”, instead I was greeted by a look of sheer terror and children holding machetes. UN and USAID trucks were everywhere, my friend Rebecca worded the experience perfectly when she said “Their presence makes me feel safe and conversely unsafe at the same time.”

Some of the child in the WAL sponsorship program

Lillian, Mary, JP and Emmanuel

For those of you who don’t know about the history of Rwanda or DRC at the very least I can say it’s extremely dark and plagued with violence. In 1994 within the span of 100 days 800,000 Rwandans were killed. 200,000 raped, and 2 million fled the country. This period in history is labeled the Rwanda Genocide, but within the recent years the country has gained a substantial amount of stability and is now considered one of the safest countries to travel to in Africa. As for the DRC it’s still a very unstable country known for warlords, mineral conflicts and rebel groups. Just last year much of Eastern Congo was occupied by the M23 rebel group. However, in December of 2013 they signed a peace agreement. It would be ignorant and naïve for me to say The DRC is now safe, but let’s just say it is a little bit safer than it has been in the previous years.

Goma

Get in and get out was my goal. However, the real goal was to look at a plot of land and meet with another organization called CENOVI (Centre d’Education a la Non Violence), to discuss the potential of building an orphanage,  school, and health clinic. Like Noel almost all of their children are orphans as a result of war or HIV/AIDs. Although the country is less than ideal, it was a great experience to give my input on the logistics of building a health clinic.

Children in the DRC

Children showing off their lollypops

Once I was back in Rwanda and had time to reflect on my experience. I found it very hard to wrap my mind around the topic of war. As a young American what tangible experience, short of 911, do I have with war? Nothing. What does ethnic violence mean to someone who knows nothing about tribal conflict? Up until a year ago I would have said nothing. With certainty I can say almost everyone I have met in Rwanda and The Democratic Republic of the Congo has been affected by war somehow, whether that be as the perpetrator or as the victim. It’s an overwhelming thought and in a way it serves me better not think too much about the heinous acts that occurred/occurs in both countries. It’s a very difficult concept to understand what war does to people. But when you see hundreds of orphans sleeping on the dirt floor of a church nearly starving you begin to comprehend the ramifications it holds. It breaks families apart, kills civilians, nurtures poverty and robs children of their innocence, and that is just the beginning of it. I still can’t even grasp it. My hope, after experiencing the devastating climate in Rwanda and the DRC is that We Are Limitless can accomplish their goals.

 CENOVI (Centre d’Education a la Non Violence)

 

The children of  CENOVI (Centre d’Education a la Non Violence)

With my trip an emotional, yet successful experience I headed back to Kenya. Yet again I was stopped to be screened for Ebola. I received the same form and went through the same process of having my temperature taken. However, this time they took note of my profession and country hopping. Kid you not I was isolated for more questions. I guess I passed the test because I am now back in Kenya safe.

"I'm sorry chicken!"

“I have absolutely no regrets in life except the things I didn't do when I had the chance." - Donald Pillai

There has been one true African experience I have been dying to have, slaughtering a chicken. Call it weird, but, in a way slaughtering a chicken is almost a rite of passage. You must slaughter a chicken to prove you are capable of survival. If not, you go hungry.

 

At last, I have done it! A few of my coworkers and I organized a day where we would have "a party" and slaughter a chicken. However, the only thing worse than someone slaughtering an animal for the first time, is someone slaughtering an animal for the first time with a dull knife. I'm so sorry chicken!

 

 

Warning! This blog contains photos and a video of the slaughtering of a live animal. All parts of the animal were used.   

 

 

Slaughtering a chicken 101



 

Select a "kuku". But first you must barter on the price.

Price depends on size, age and type of chicken.

Price also depends on if the buyer is white.

 

 

Set up the jiko. This is the most common means to

cook. You must have the charcoal catch on fire. 

Next use jiko to boil water.

 

 

Assume proper slaughtering position. 

 

 

Changing positions. Not quite ready to slaughter

by myself.

 

Assume new position. Head, wings, and feet are

held down. Pluck feathers at the neck. Proceed

to kill. 

 

 

Once the chicken has been slaughter place in a bucket.

Boiled water from the jiko will be poured on the chicken.

Boiled water makes it easier to pluck the feathers.

 

Coworkers plucking feathers.

 

 

Plucked chicken.

 

 

Dismember the chicken.

Please note that is the head.

Continue to dismember.

 

 

Cook chicken. Lets get real, I know nothing about

cooking. My coworkers cooked.

 

Our meal.

 I cut the avocado, that's contributing right?

 

Ben, Edwin and Gerald enjoying our meal.

 

 

 I recommend you watch the video if you need a

good laugh. Slaughtering the kuku from start to finish.

Why we volunteer

“You will never be completely at home again because part of your heart will always be elsewhere. That’s the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing more people in more than one place”. -Miriam Adeney

Return dates are being discussed, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. It is no secret that I had a difficult time adjusting to life in Tabaka. But, if you know me, you must know that when I fall in love with something whether that is a person, a place, or a passion; I tend to fall very hard. So now I find myself stuck between two worlds that couldn’t be more different.

One of my fellow volunteers and I once discussed the cruelty of being a volunteer. Why do we put ourselves through this? As a long term volunteer we make a seemly conscious decision to abandon everything at home. We abandoned things such as the items that provide us comfort, our family, our security, and sometimes even our sanity. You are thrown into a foreign world and forced to navigate it. But then, once your reality has been completely derailed, you come out on the other side, finding that you have new comforts, new friends, and even a new outlook on life. The cruel part seems to be the timing in these events. Just as you get comfortable, yet again, you abandon everything and go back to your old life. You are forced to re-navigate a world you once knew, only this time with a little more insight as to how others live.

 

Everyone I work with knows I’m struggling as the days pass. They ask me all the time “why don’t you just extend your stay in Kenya?” I have seriously entertained that idea, but, I realize if I want to volunteer again (which I do), I need more experience and more education in my nursing practice. It will soon be time to pick up the pieces of my life I left behind. So yet again, I’m asking myself, why do we do this? The only answer I seem to have is for the experience, the insight and for the sick whose lives we are able to improve. We do what we do to help people, for them to help us, and for both parties to gain a little more perspective into each other’s lives. We do this to bridge the gaps of understanding, culture, and health care, in hopes of a more homogeneous world.

 

Although my world in the States differs in every way possible from Kenya, I love the Kenyan culture, the country and the people with all my heart. I’m coming to realize a part of my heart will always remain here, tucked away in this rural village I now call home.

 

 

Lake Victoria.

 

Western Kenya wouldn't be the same without

The smell of drying fish....

 

or kids with swollen bellies playing on fishing boats...

 

or children staring at my white skin.

 

My little friends.

 

 

My big friends.

 

Karen, Sonco, and Collons.

 

  

My favorite booger Tyson. 

 

Sponsor family.

They seem to like things that make noise.

 

Lawrence. My sponsor child.

Recently celebrated my birthday.

'

An African birthday would not be complete

Without goat intestines. Yummy!

 

 

 

"I can drink it?!?"

 

"Everyday I am thankful for nights that turned into mornings. Friends that turned into family. Dreams that turned into reality and likes that turned into love." -unknown author

 

There are so many times I wish I had a hidden camera. That way I could capture the precious and heartfelt moments that I am often unable to share. Fortunately, I have been able to capture one of these moments that I will treasure forever.

 

This is Collons, a child I have known for several months now. Less than a year ago he was living in a field only eating the food he could find on the streets. Today I can definitely say his life has changed for the better. He has a place to sleep, food in his belly, and is even attending school. In this video he is showing me the new toilets and sinks that have been constructed at his school. I am always so thankful to experience precious moments like this. Moments filled with so much sincerity and happiness over objects that most of us feel entitled to.

 

I often question, what if we were all like Collons? What would happen if we focused on the things we had rather than the things we didn’t? Coming from the states it is no secrete that we live a life of excess, and, because of that lifestyle, I feel like we often lose sight of what it means to be thankful.

 

Watch this video and listen to his sincerity. Then, I challenge you to stop and think about all the material and nonmaterial things we take for granted.  Finally, think about how amazingly blessed we are to have our basic needs met; for I can say I have never faced true hunger, homelessness, or poverty.

 

 

I love how Collons has so much excitement because the toilet flushes.

I also love how happy he is now that he has access to clean water.

Simple things we often take for granted.

 

 

The five M's

“Five kinds of people end up in a place like this, the saying goes. The five M’s: Medics, Missionaries, Mercenaries, Misfits, and Madmen- sometimes even a few categories in the same person. Me? I’ll take medic, if only by exclusion. As for mad, not yet, but we’ll see.” - Damien Brown.

 

Holy cow! I can’t believe I have been living in Kenya for eight months!!! Part of me wants to know where the time has gone, but, I know exactly where it went! It’s been eight months dedicated to serving the sick alongside the Camillan brothers and sisters of Kenya. In no way can I say this experience has been easy, for it has been filled with defeat, triumph, tears and joy. I like to describe my life in Kenya as beautiful chaos… because that is exactly what it is.
 

A few of the Camillan brothers.

Always joking around in front of a camera.

There we go, finally got a good picture!

 

When I first came to Tabaka, I thought I had lost my mind! My mission seemed like an impossible task almost comparable to emptying an ocean with an eye dropper. How would I work in an environment that is so physically and emotionally demanding? Not to mention the extreme isolation! It took me a very long time to become content with this slow and simple life style, but within the last three months something has changed. Or maybe it is me who has changed? Somehow I have managed to adapt and even embrace a life so different than my own. With this new found perspective I feel like work and life are becoming less of a challenge.
 

Cows blocking the "road".

 

Hauling water and laundry from Lake Victoria.

 

 

The brothers and I at Lake Victoria.

 

A day out with some of the nursing students.

 

 

I am still working on Tabaka’s pediatric ward. Although this is the most emotionally demanding ward I have worked on, I love it. I am hoping to spend the remainder of the year on this ward. In addition to hospital life, I have had the opportunity to work at Maisha’s health camp in Kisumu. I have undertaken a project which includes providing physicals, deworming and testing of each child for malaria and typhoid. This project is now complete! However, it was no simple task to get 600 plus children to cooperate with my personal health agenda.
 

Attending to a patient at Maishas health camp.

Patient at Tabaka.

Not quite sure why he has a plastic bag on his head.

However, he seems happy with a big thumbs up.

 

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVxefwN8648

Click on the link above. This is Risper. She has been a discharge in since February. We are practicing counting. Turn up the volume to hear her.

 

 

I have also been a guest speaker on several occasions to numerous HIV and Sickle Cell support groups. You might ask what the heck do I know about HIV or Sickle Cell? In fact, I thought the same thing! However, from these talks I am realizing that patients are almost always lacking a basic understanding of the disease. Usually we discuss the very very basics!!!! Most talks center on the pathophysiology of the disease. In true African fashion I am usually given about five minutes’ notice before I speak. Although I always wish I had more time to prepare, I am ok with the short notice; it keeps me on my toes.

One of the support groups.

Recently I have had some time to squeeze in a little fun! I ran in the first annual Run For Life Race in Kisumu. Professional runners from Kenya even showed up to attend the event. I can officially say I have ran with Kenyans. However, not for long! I was crossing the start line when they were making the first turn of the trail. This was definitely a blow to my athletic ego.

 

Run For Life

 

Stretching, mostly goofing off with some of the runners.

Moment of truth, running with Kenyans.

Met a missionary from the States. My new friend named Lauren.

 

 

The start and finish line.

Post race love!

Male and female winners.

 

I may not be Bolt, but, I can still do his pose.

Amidst ward work, health camps, and making a fool out of myself in competitive races, there is the never ending battle of my language skills. Like I predicted my Kiswahili lessons were short lived. However, my Kiswahili continues to improve. But, I still struggle! Even when I think I understand I continuously prove my ignorance time and time again.  For example, for the past several months I have been saying “nimelewa” thinking it meant I understand. I have recently come to learn that I understand is actually “nimeelewa”. Please note the only difference is one e and when pronounced it sounds almost identical.  It took several months, lots of giggles, and a smartass nursing student to finally point out “nimelewa” actually means “I’m drunk”. I’m sure you can imagine the confused and then humiliated look on my face when a nursing student replied “how many bottles did you take?” Fortunately I am a good sport and it is now one of my favorite stories from living in Kenya.
 

One of my beautiful nursing students.

Also unofficial language teacher.

As the time gets closer to my eventual departure I have been changing my focus here. I am currently in a legal battle with what would be considered Child Protective Services over Tyson (the young boy who has been abandoned in my ward since January). Because he has been abandoned I am trying to have his guardianship transferred to a school and orphanage I work very closely with. In addition, I am starting a new project concerning pediatric cardiac conditions. My hope is to create a curriculum for our Maternal Child Health department focusing on preventive care. Once the project is in full swing I will fill all my readers in.

Once again, I would like to thank all my readers, family and friends for all their love and support. You continuously encourage me and keep me sane.  Like I have said I never thought I would make it eight months in a world so different than my own. Because of you, all this is possible!
 

 

My sponsor family from Kisumu. We went out for Milkshakes.

I think I enjoyed it more than them. They kept telling me "this is not milk."