Thursday, October 16, 2014

Kwaheri


Recently, a fellow nurse saw me with my camera taking photographs in town.  “Still not enough pictures?” he asked jokingly.  I thought about it and realized that it will never be enough.  No matter how many photos I take, I’ll never be able to fully capture what the experience of living in Mutomo has been.


With Dr. Helen, one of our new Swedish volunteers.

We often have a shortage of scratch paper for writing the morning report.  Sr. Esther and Bretta here are tearing apart old scraps so that they'll last longer.

The maternity staff insisted I return to do one more delivery before leaving Mutomo.  I delivered this baby girl a couple weeks ago.


This boy was admitted with septic arthritis to both leg joints.  Despite severe pain, he could never be seen without a smile.  He would laugh every time he saw me.  He was discharged a couple weeks ago.

This patient was admitted for over a month with a diabetic ulcer on the leg which eventually led to amputation.  I worked with her repeatedly to help her learn to walk using a walker.  I discharged her a few days before finishing my work in the hospital.


Staff listening to a class I gave on fundamentals of nursing.
For the past 12 months, I have worked extremely hard to fit into the local culture.  I’ve made many Kenyan friends, studied Kiswahili, learned to cook African food, changed the way I speak English, taken a liking to the local music, learned to sing in Kiswahili and Kikamba, and I’ve adapted in a thousand other ways… I’ve done everything short of painting my skin black (which my friends and I have discussed several times).  And now that I finally feel like I can call Mutomo home, it’s time to leave.  Working as a volunteer abroad is such a cruel and painful thing to put oneself through.  Leaving home was hard.  Adjusting to life in Mutomo was harder.  Now, saying goodbye is the hardest.  And yet I have no regrets about coming.  It has been the best 12 months of my life.



With Holy Family students Mwanzia (front), Daniel (back left), and Antony (back right).

With Juma, a friend from the church.

Cooking sukuma wiki (collard greens) over a charcoal jiko.

With the class 8 students of Holy Family Primary.

Angela prepared a farewell supper for me a couple weeks ago: sukuma wiki with goat meat, ugali, and mandaazi.  I prepared the guacamole.

Out for a morning walk with our new Swedish volunteers: Dr. Erik (dentist), his wife Karen, Dr. Maria (gynecologist), and Dr. Helen (trainee gynecologist).

Evening supper with my Swedish neighbors.

During the last week, I took off from work and undertook the tedious process of saying goodbye and packing up my house.  Surprisingly, my week of not being on duty was much more busy and exhausting than when I was working.  Let me now give a day by day description of my final week's activities.

Friday, 3rd October

The past couple weeks of work were extremely busy.  Two weeks ago, medical ward finally came out of its slump and became busy once more.  We went from less than 10 patients to over 20 in just a few days.  I really worked hard the entire week, but at last my final day of work arrived.  Like the rest of the week, it was hectic and I was glad when my shift finally ended and I was able to rest a bit.  But despite all the hardship of work, I know I will miss my work at Mutomo Hospital.  

Friday also happened to be the birthday of Moses, a fellow nurse and one of my best friends in Mutomo.  I told him I would treat him to supper in town to celebrate: nyama choma (BBQ goat) and ugali.  

Walking through town with the birthday hat.
Moses is always complaining when we walk through town together, “Nobody ever looks at me or greets me when we’re together.  They only look at you and want to shake hands with you because you’re a mzungu.”  So I gave him a gift.  When I came to Kenya, I brought along a ridiculous birthday hat with a cake and candles poking out of the top.  I put the hat on my friend’s head (without letting him see it) and told him, “Today, we’ll walk through town with you wearing this hat, and people will stare at you instead of at me.”  I paraded him down the main road in town.  It worked only partially; people stared back and forth at the both of us.









Saturday 4th October
Goats for sale at the airstrip on market day.
My friend Samuel out to sell his goats on market day.


I spent most of Saturday roaming the market.  Every market day, people bring their goats to sell at the airstrip.  I’ve been meaning to stop by to see all the goats for several months but never got around to it until now.  The sellers were very welcoming and encouraged me to take photos of all the goats.  

In the afternoon, I met again with my coworker Moses to educate him in American cuisine.  I had some ground beef remaining in my fridge and he’d never had a hamburger before, so we made a lunch of burgers, fries, and Coca-Colas.  He approved of the meal.


Tying a goat atop a bus for transport.


Live chickens for sale on the roadside.

Burgers, chips, and Coca-Colas.

First time I've had a burger in a long while.


Lots of food for our party at Stress Free.

In the evening I headed over to Stress Free one last time for a farewell party organized by Dr. Amollo, our chief medical officer.  It was a great bash, with good music, dancing, friends, and of course good food.  We dined on roasted goat, chicken, and other traditional African dishes.  For some time, people have said that I should be given a Kamba name.  And so after supper, Dr. Amollo bestowed on me the name Kithome, meaning: one who is born outside the home.

Sr. Mary giving a speech.







Receiving a gift from Dr. Amollo.
 One thing I’ve learned in Kenya is to never attend a gathering without being expected to make a short speech.  Throughout this year, I’ve been called upon to make countless speeches.  After our meal, each guest (they were about 20) was called upon to say some words, concluding with myself.  Here's what I said:


Ninaitwa Kithome (my name is Kithome).  My friends: it’s been a good year.  It isn’t easy coming to a new country and working.  In the beginning I was worried about learning a new healthcare system, dealing with the language, food, and making friends.  But I adapted and God blessed me with many friends.  Now I’m very sad to go, but happy to have known every one of you.  It feels now like I’m leaving my home behind.  And when I think of my old home, it feels very foreign.   

When I first came to Mutomo, I remember passing through Kitui town where the tarmac (paved) road ends.  As I continued on and entered Mutomo on the main dirt road, I remember thinking, “My God, what have I gotten myself into?”  With the heat, lack of water, poverty and poor living conditions, it seemed like hell.  I used to joke that people living in Mutomo would go to hell for a holiday.  But with time I adapted to Mutomo, and I felt closer to Heaven than ever before.  I came wanting to give my service, time, talent, and knowledge, and I’ve tried my best to do so.  But I feel everyone here has given much more to me than I have to them; in friendship, learning, good times, and new experiences.  So thank you very much.  Asante sana, and God bless.  I hope we’ll meet again.

I'm always a little embarrassed to dance with my African friends.  While Africans have a natural rhythm and ability to dance, my stiff white hips refuse to move with the music.

With Gilbert, one of the clinical officers in the hospital.

With my friend Bretta, nurse and head of medical ward.

Dancing (trying) with Robert and nurse Rose.

The dancing and partying continued late into the night.


Sunday 5th October
On Sunday morning the church hosted a diocesan harambee (fundraiser).  The church was too small to accommodate a large crowd, so we had Mass outside under a makeshift canopy of tarps.  The Mass was mostly said in Kiswahili and Kikamba, so I understood little while the priest was preaching.  As I sat there not understanding anything, I looked around.  I was surrounded on all sides by good friends, listening to and singing beautiful music and praising God, and I thought, "What could be better?"  Again I felt like I was in Heaven. 

After Mass, I met up with friends to again cook muthukoi (a mix of maize and beans) along with sukuma wiki, one of my favorite African meals.  It was a nice, relaxing Sunday.





The boy on the left is Victor.  He is always smiling, and whenever he sees me he always makes a point to come greet me.




 One of my favourite church songs, sung during the harambee.





Guess which ones are mine.

Monday 6th October


One of my favorite parts of living in Mutomo has been interacting with the students at Holy Family Primary.  On Monday, I arranged with the head teacher to visit the school and attend classes.  I started the day with the class 5 students, studying mathematics and English, then on to class 8 for science and mathematics.  The teacher at one point even asked me to review some of the exercises with the students.  So I got to be the mwalimu (teacher) for a few minutes.  After the lesson, the students divided themselves into small groups to review their work.  It’s been so long since I last took a math class, and I really struggled with some of the exercises.  A few times the kids even had to help me to complete the questions.  Other times I was able to help them.

So eager to answer the teacher's question.





 The day ended with the young students of class 4.  We first studied Kiswahili.  Sr. Rose was teaching and called on me several times to answer questions in Kiswahili, under threat of being hit with the cane if I answered incorrectly.  Luckily I answered the questions correctly.  The final lesson was social studies, where the students were discussing tourism in Kenya.  The head teacher told them, “Today we’re lucky to have a real live tourist here with us in class.”  I’m not sure how much learning actually went on in the school that day.  The kids kept turning around to look at me. 

Reviewing mathematics with class 8.





Reviewing mathematics work.

Holy Family Primary is the top school in the area, and the students there are very blessed to have such a good education.  The following two days after my visit, the students took their exams, and I am told their results were very good.




Sr. Rose teaching Kiswahili to class 4.

With the class 4 students after their social studies lesson.


Tuesday 7th October  was spent cleaning the house and packing, with only short breaks for meeting friends, running errands in town, etc.
Rachael, our pharmacy technician, always laughing.

An albino donkey I always see in town.

With some of the pharmacy staff: Crispus and Rachael.

The Mutomo Posta (post office).  If you got a letter from me, it came from here.

Post office exterior.

With Kennedy, who manages the hospital shop.

Out for a walk along the airstrip.


Wednesday 8th October


Students of Muti Primary.

My birthday!  It was the simplest, yet best birthday I’ve ever had.  In the morning I accompanied our Swedish dentist Erik and his wife Karen as they distributed toothbrushes to the students of nearby Muti Primary School.  The kids were thrilled to have visitors and a gift.  And of course we were called upon to give brief speeches to the kids. 












Students at Muti Primary School singing during their morning assembly.


People out with their donkeys in the morning to collect water from the rain catchments.


Students of Kiviu Primary.
Later in the morning, I took a motorbike taxi to visit the home of Anastacia, who’s been working in my house this past year.  I got to see the house where she and her family live, and we shared a meal together.  We also took a visit across the street to Kiviu Primary school where Anastacia once attended school and where her own kids now attend.  It was a huge school of 600 kids.  The teachers gave us a tour of each class and talked about the school.  I was told that most of the kids have just one meal per day at suppertime, skipping breakfast and lunch.  The school has a shortage of water, so the students must carry their own water to school.  Despite the challenges, the school is well-known for performing very well, and many of the pupils advance to “national schools,” which are the top secondary schools in the country.  










Anastacia with her daughter.

Students from Kiviu Primary School walking home after classes.




Back in Mutomo, I met briefly with Moses to take a photo of myself wearing the birthday hat I’d given him only days before.  As I sat for the camera, a child from a neighboring home walked over and joined the picture.  He then left and returned a minute later to bring his little brother for another photo.  It turned out to be a much better photo than if I'd taken it alone.






Out for a walk with Sr. Jennifer.
I rushed over to the convent to meet Sr. Jennifer, who’s been my walking company this past year.  We went for one final walk up into the rocks and witnessed one of Mutomo’s spectacular sunsets.

I returned back home just in time to meet with my neighbor Anita, who cooked a delicious birthday supper of lasagna.  Cheese is rare in Mutomo, so it was a real treat, and the company was great.




Thursday 9th October
After morning Mass with Benard the catechist and our two altar boys Junior and Mwanzia.
I spent most of Thursday continuing the tedious work of packing up my house.  Of course, I’m never too busy to enjoy a meal with friends.  For lunch, I again met with Moses and cooked ugali and sukuma wiki.  A month before, Moses had seen me cooking ugali and looked at it with disgust.  He took it upon himself to teach me how to cook proper ugali.  So I was happy on Thursday when he approved of my cooking.

With Dr. Amollo.

Making ugali on the jiko.

In the evening, I met with Fr. George and Fr. John at the mission house to learn to slaughter a chicken.  Under the guidance of Nicholas the cook and Benard the parish catechist, I beheaded, de-feathered, dissected, and cut apart a chicken.  Once you learn which internal organ is which, it isn’t so hard.  The meal was delicious, and I knew for certain it was fresh.

Benard and Nicholas, my instructors in chicken preparation.



The feathers and intestines removed from the chicken.

Supper with Fr. John and Fr. George.

Friday 10th October

The bloodshed continued as I slaughtered my second chicken.  As a parting gift, Anastacia’s mother generously sent me a chicken.  So with Anastacia’s supervision, I again slaughtered and de-feathered another bird.  I worked on still more packing, then relaxed for the evening with a final table tennis match, followed by supper with friends.





How to slaughter a chicken for lunch.

I will really miss looking out over this sea of bald heads every morning at Mass.

With my friend Joel from the records office.

Doing some washing.

After de-feathering.

Internal organs, including the eggs.

Uninvited lunch guests, waiting for the intestines and head of the chicken.

After a game with my good friend Moses... I lost again.

Saturday 11th October

With clinical officers Gilbert (left) and Wilson (right)

Bretta and Moses were both excited to get American nursing scrubs.

Bretta also received the fan I left behind.

Watching the slideshow during their free afternoon.
My final full day in Mutomo.  Throughout the year, I’ve taken many photos of the students of Holy Family Primary at school and at church.  They are always asking me to make prints for them, but there are too many kids to print for.  Instead, I was able to put together a slideshow of photos and videos and then borrowed the hospital’s projector to play the video at school.  The kids really enjoyed seeing themselves.  I had a last supper of goat and rice with my friends in the evening.





The last supper in Mutomo.

My friends going home with all the household items I left behind for them.


Sunday 12th October


Final Mass in Mutomo.

Sunday finally came, and it was one of the saddest days of my life.  I woke up in the morning to a beautiful sunrise coming up over the rocks of Mutomo.  As I walked to the church, the weather was perfect.  Mass was wonderful as always.  At my request the choir sang my favorite Utukufu song.  At the end of Mass, Fr. George asked me to give a speech, as usual:

 Tumsifu Yesu Kristu! (Let us praise Jesus!); to which the congregation always responds:  Milele na milele amina! (Forever and ever, amen!).
 

My friends: it’s been a very good year, my best so far.  But now it’s time to say "kwaheri."  I was thinking of all the places I’ve visited this year in Kenya. I went to Amboseli and saw Mt. Kilimanjaro.  I saw the wildlife of Maasai Mara and Tsavo and Lake Nakuru.  I visited the Rift Valley.  I saw many beautiful places.  But of all the places in Kenya, my favorite is right here in this church with you. I have enjoyed coming every week and every day to pray and sing and worship God with you all. 

Faith is the most important thing.  I had supper with Fr. George some nights ago, and he was encouraging me to always keep the faith.  So I want to steal his words and encourage all of you to keep the faith.  I am very sad to be leaving Mutomo.  But the beautiful thing about our Catholic faith is that we are all one body in Christ.  Each time I go to Mass at home and receive the Eucharist, I will be happy to know that I will be one with you all in Christ.

Thank you all for making me feel so welcome in Mutomo, for having me into your homes, your community, your school, and your church.  I will never forget the people of Mutomo and I will remember to pray for you. I ask only that you remember and pray for me.

So it’s time to say goodbye now.  Asante sana.  And God bless you all.



With students from St. Patrick's Secondary.

With my friend Raymond, a retired employee of the hospital.

With Sr. Clare, Dr. Amollo, and Raymond after Mass.



A last photo with the altar servers.

Stopped in Kitui town to say goodbye to Angela.

Hanging out in Kitui town en route to Nairobi.

After Mass, there were many goodbyes, hugs, and last-minute photos.  At last the car arrived and it was time to say kwaheri to Mutomo.  As I walked out of the hospital gate and to the car, I worked hard to fight back tears as the local kids waved and called my name, “Eric!  Eric!  As the car drove me down that dusty road one final time, I caught my last glimpses of Mutomo: the shops all closed for Sunday; a child riding a bicycle; the rocks rising above the town.  Leaving Mutomo was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, and I will miss the place and her people dearly. 

Today I returned home to the United States.  What a strange thing it was walking through that clean, shining airport wearing my dusty shoes still stained with chicken blood.  It is a world entirely different from the one I’ve experienced this year, and I know it will be a big adjustment.  But God has watched over me through many difficult times this year, and I have faith he will see me through to the next chapter of my life.

It has sometimes been heartbreaking to see such severe poverty.  Some weeks ago, Fr. John was preaching during Mass and he posed the question: Why do some people have much and others do not?  His explanation: some people have much, so that one day they can share with others.  I’ve often reflected on how strange it is that I was born in a rich country while others were born in poor countries.  I have never wanted for food, water, housing, clothing, education, or healthcare, but I did nothing to earn this.  I just happened to win the birth lottery.  But with all the blessings I’ve been given, I am able to serve and share with others.  And what a gift it’s been to share and serve.  I am a better person because of my time in Mutomo.  I have seen that life is so much more fulfilling when it is spent in service to others, not just for myself. 

My joy this last year has been in meeting so many new people.  The people of Mutomo are kind, friendly, generous, and ever-smiling, and it has been my very great privilege to know and serve them.  I hope to return to see them again one day.

What an adventure it’s been.  Thank you so much to everyone who has followed along throughout the year.  Thank you for all of your prayers and support.  Please continue to pray for me, and mostly for the people of Mutomo and all of Kenya. 


 My favourite song, sung at my final Mass in Mutomo on Sunday.


Allow me now to leave you with the same words which I left for the people of Mutomo:  

Asante sana and may God bless.