"White Kenyan"

For some reason I am having a hard time writing another post. I don’t know exactly why, but, I think it’s because I am no longer startled by the things I see here. I am no longer finding Kenya as an exotic foreign country, but, I guess, I am starting to see Kenya for what it is.

Locals here are beginning to call me the “white Kenyan”. They say I am “not proud like the other whites”. That comment says a lot about how Kenyans perceive the white culture. I believe the word they are looking for is humble. They are also convinced I speak Kiswahili. However, knowing greetings and having the ability to make a few sentences does not make me fluent. Many of my coworkers are even offering to find me a husband, or be my husband, so I stay here. Their comments make me laugh, they act like I’m over the hill at age twenty-three. They don’t understand why I’m not married with a couple of kids by now. One of the doctors even told me I better get started because I need to worry about menopause. It’s just a totally different culture, children are not even a speck on my radar. It’s nice to be loved and accepted, but, I know I am not strong enough to live in a third world country forever. The longer I am away the more I love my country, and my health care system.

Even though I have no intention of finding a Kenyan spouse I do feel like I am becoming more attached and protective of my hospital and coworkers. Because Tabaka was established by the Camillianos (a catholic congregation from Italy) we have many Italians that visit Tabaka. They often stay about two weeks and leave. My ideas about volunteering are changing as a result of this. I see so many volunteers come and go in such a short time. Although their work is appreciated, they are soon forgotten, as if they never even came. Seeing this makes me more determined than ever not to be one of those types of volunteers. I love nursing but I want to do something more. At this point I believe the only way is through education. Ironically, I was just offered a clinical instructor position at Tabakas School of nursing. I have already accepted the position. I would like to say everything is set, but, the school and hospital lack structure and organization.  It’s frustrating because I feel like I have so much to offer.

Like I said we have many Italians here. The Italians have a very funny culture. They seem very clicky and most of them don’t speak English.  It’s very hard to relate, even harder than to the Kenyans. We have no way of communicating. They don’t speak English and I don’t speak Italian. Fortunately, I am familiar with Spanish which has actually helped me when trying to communicate. Despite the language barrier and the clickiness I have been determined to make the two younger Italians my friends. It’s still a working progress but slowly they are beginning to like me.

Italian visitors 

 

Work here is going good. I’m still working on the female medical surgical ward. I’m trying to spend my time between medical and surgical equally, but, because of the lack of nurses I am now managing the surgical side most days. Between medical and surgical my ward has 65 beds. Most days there are usually two nurses working and it is a struggle! One of the foreign doctors compares my ward to a refugee camp, many patients with few nurses. I still get frustrated with the staff but there are a few doctors I actually really respect. Both the surgical and medical doctor for my ward are excellent given their lack of resources.

Recently, I have been more frustrated with my patients. Often they try to tell me what to do, or tell me I’m doing my job wrong. They have a hard time understanding why I do things differently from the other nurses. In fact, the other day I had a patient’s family member literally scream at me because I wanted to confirm the placement of an NG tube before administering medication. In the US this is standard, we do it for safety reasons, but, I guess not in Kenya. I am also frustrated by seeing people die because of ignorance. For example, last week a child was admitted to our hospital because of dehydration due to vomiting and diarrhea. The child ended up dying, not because dehydration, but, because of sepsis. His family believed that if your child is dehydrated and vomiting you should remove all their teeth. As a result he ended up acquiring an infection which ultimately lead to his death. This is an extreme case but its reality here.

Amongst all the work I have been trying to keep myself busy during my days off. Tabaka is very small and has zero form of entertainment. However, I love walking around the village trying to communicate with the locals and children. Every time I leave the gates the children scream and call out mzungu mzungu. I love it, it’s probably what I’m going to miss the most once I leave this country. The children have also learned “mzungu mzungu, give me sweets”. Although I’m a huge sweet tooth I don’t usually carry around candy to give to children I don’t know. In my country that would be considered creepy, but here giving a child candy is completely normal. So, now I buy candy and pass it out when I can find a small group of children. Any group bigger than three you run the risk of being bombarded and running out.

"mzungu mzungu give me sweets"

 

Giving away candy

 

He loved my hat,

 excuse my awful hat hair

 

Beautiful Tabakan baby

He loved my camera

Also, I have officially started legitimate Kiswahili lessons, I don’t know how long it will last but I really appreciate the help. Fr Gabriel has decided to take me under his wing because right now I speak “kitchen Swahili”. Believe it or not in this region of Kenya many people do not speak proper Kiswahili, so I’m picking up a lot of shang (yes it’s called shang not slang). In addition, whenever I have the opportunity I try to visit Lake Victoria. The lake is actually very close but the roads are terrible so it takes forever to get there. I love the lake, it’s definitely on my top ten list of most beautiful places I have ever seen. Surrounded by beautiful green landscape, the lake is so big it looks like the ocean. Lake Victoria is literally heaven on earth to me in Kenya, I wish I could stay on the lake all the time.

In the village Nyagwethe

Nyagwethe children

Lake Victoria

Lake Victoria