The end, the middle, the beginning

I guess I should have written an blog entry a few weeks ago, but the time has flown by. I was very distracted waiting for Morgan to arrive, and busy during the last week of work trying to finish up all the loose ends of projects I was working on. I have learned some important lessons, and hopefully shared some lessons on nutrition. I've learned that having no money for food does not mean you don't want to know about nutrition. Sex workers are real people, and have families to feed. Sometimes the hardest, roughest looking person, had the best nutrition questions, and most were so hungry for information and appreciative that someone would take the time to explain things to them. I spent the last 1.5 months here teaching basic nutrition to the women in the waiting room every morning, to the clinic staff, to a partnered Non Profit Organization called MOCASO and their staff. Trying to spread the word that nutrition does not need to be only for the rich, that everyone deserves to be healthy and have energy and live well. I came across some funny excuses for how food is regarded in the Kenyan culture. Eating junk food and pop are now seen as more "westernized" and hold status. Eating vegetables is only for the poor who can't afford junk food! Many Kenyans believe it is better to fill your belly with heavy, dense white flour based dough called "ugali" than to have a balanced diet, because otherwise you'll feel hungry again in a few hours. You eat what you have today and don't think of tomorrow, because there may not be anything tomorrow. Looking around the markets and talking with people, the reality is the nutritious foods are definitely not the most expensive, its all about choices made with how you spend the money you have. Like 30 Ksh will buy you a pop or a yogurt, from the same market stand. Language barrier is sometimes more in your mind than in reality, I needed about a month to get past the fear of not knowing Swahili, and start building relationships with Kenyans outside of words, this is a lesson I will always take with me. I remember looking at people and trying to decide if I should talk to them by judging whether they looked like they could speak english. Later I realized, that even those with little english wanted to get to know me, and had had lots to teach me. You have to be open to experiences or they can pass you by. I now regret spending too much time at the beginning in the pharmacy at the clinic counting pills and talking to the clinic staff instead of really spending time with the women. It was hard to bridge the gap of language and situation though. I value a lot, all that I have learned about what struggles these women face in their lives, the effects of HIV on their bodies, and hearts by listening to the staff that work with them every day. There is still a huge stigma around HIV in Kenya, and many people are still denying the reality that they need to get tested because they don't want to know. Its sad that North America has had ARV's for decades and Kenya has only had them available for their people since 2005. It sure has changed the face of Kenya though, as you may have noticed, the patients with HIV do not look like they are dying of HIV, now because of free ARV's provided by research clinics like the one I worked in, or other NGO's, they are now LIVING with HIV. What an amazing difference. I know my view was a bit skewed because I was working in a big metropolis and in an outpatient clinic. If you look to the rural settings where ARV's are not as widely available or to the hospices and hospital wards where there are 2 or 3 dying, malnourished people to one bed, then you can see that the work is not over yet. I finished the project I was working on that researched and catalogued the organizations in Nairobi that were providing free food provisions to people in need. The staff will now be able to refer patients who come in with severe food insecurity to one of these organizations nearest them, to help bridge the gaps in service and problem solve the real social issues in the lives of the patients. I also gathered some resources on nutrition for each of the 5 clinics to use, so they can disseminate nutrition information long after I am gone, and have good references to refer. Although I made a lot of suggestions on how to incorporate nutrition, I know that in Africa things change "pole pole" (slowly slowly) and I did the best I could with the challenges I was faced with. I felt satisfied with the experience of volunteering and ready to move on to the next part of my adventure when Morgan arrived on March 23. I was so excited to see his smiling face at the airport, I just about jumped over the huge line of taxi drivers holding up name signs for other arrivals. It felt sort of like a dream that he was here, that I was away from him for so long, that I had been in such a foreign place without him and that now he was really in front of me and ready for an exciting 6 week adventure. He arrived on a Tuesday night, around 8:30 pm, and the next morning we went right back to the airport to fly to the coast, to an island called Lamu for a relaxing week in the heat. Talk about temperature and culture shock for Morgan. The weather in Lamu was over 34 degrees celsius everyday, and very humid. We stayed at a nice, quaint little guest house in the center of the town, run by a Rastafarian Kenyan DJ named Doshi. The walls of the guest house were made from ancient coral, and it was 4 stories high, with two rooftop lounges featuring hammocks to lie in and enjoy the sea breeze. The breeze was what kept us alive in such a hot environment, and the beautiful beach in Sheila just 30 mins down the shore. We happened to be in Lamu when an annual Islamic festival called Maulid was on, which brought approximately 50,000 extra people to the tiny island for all sorts of religious ceremonies and activities. We learned lots about the history of the island and the culture of the muslim people. The island is especially interesting because the only mode of transportation is by donkey, and you are a nobody unless you own at least 1 donkey. This made for very careful stepping on the very narrow streets that wind around the town (if you know what I mean!). We even spent a whole day on a dhow (traditional swahili sailboat) boat sailing to a nearby island called Manda Toto for some snorkeling and a barbeque fish lunch on the beach. As we snorkeled around an incredible reef, one of the sailing crew jumped in with an old fashioned spear to catch fish for us to enjoy for lunch, a red snapper and a white snapper, talk about fresh. The hot sun was pretty tiring, and after 5 days in Lamu, a very unknown and different world, we were ready to get back to Nairobi and prepare for our mountain adventure. When we arrived back in Nairobi Morgan was not feeling very good, he had a bad cold, some GI upset and his toe was looking pretty infected from when he accidently kicked the coral on our snorkeling trip. Since I am now buddy buddy with a collection of Med students, we got some expert advice, and Morgan was diagnosed with Giardia (known in Canada as 'beaver fever') and given some prescriptions the morning of our journey to Mt Kenya. After careful packing of about 180 pounds of gear, food, and clothes for the 2nd highest mountain in Africa, we were off. Morgan's friend Kurtis drove us to the base of the mountain, a town called Naro Moru, about 3 hours from Nairobi where we hired 3 locals to porter our heaviest bags to the top for us. There names were Ibrahim, Robert and Mike, and we gave them about 40 pounds each, and split the remaining weight amongst Morgan, Kurtis and I. We spent the rest of day 1 hiking about 3 hours up to the first hut called Meteorologic Station or Met Station, along a very rocky uphill road, to reach 3050 meters above sea level. Day 2 was the most treacherous, and uphill "slog" as Morgan calls it, through what is termed as a vertical bog for about 6.5 hours. And when I say up, I mean straight up. I was very grateful that the porters had the bulk of our weight. We finally arrived at the second hut station, called MacKinder's Lodge at 4300 Meters above sea level. Finally the majestic peaks were in sight, and the surrounding view was amazing. I have posted lots of photos in the slideshow or on my picaso web album, but the photos could not even begin to capture the feeling of being up so high, in such a peaceful and expansive place. Day 3, Morgan is not feeling very good, hard to tell, because he really doesn't complain, but he is slow hiking up to the top hut, called Austrian Hut, at 4790 meters, and I can tell he is in pain from the steep trail, which is unlike him. The plan was supposed to be Day 4, Kurtis and Morgan rock climb the vertical face of the highest peak of Mt Kenya called Neilion, stay over at a tiny 4 foot high hut on the summit called Howell Hut, and then rappel down on Day 4, while I waited and guided them with binoculars and a walkie talkie. But after resting for the day at Austrian Hut, Morgan admitted to having a fever, possibly bronchitis like symptoms, nausea and dizziness, and thus the climb was cancelled. Instead, on Day 4, the three of us hiked up another 200 meters straight up to the walking summit called Point Lenana at 4985 meters above sea level. At this elevation, you basically walk 3 steps, pant for 2 seconds, walk a few more. The air is so thin, you need to take your time ascending. It was well worth the effort, because the views were incredible, and definitely a life defining moment. What an amazing thing for us to share together, truly feeling on top of the world. Then we hiked back down to MacKinder's station, to start our descent down the mountain, but our porters were long gone. So we divided fairly the gear amongst the three of us, and started walking down the steep valley, with me carrying about 40 pounds, Morgan about 50 pounds, and Kurtis, about 65 pounds. I tried really hard not to whine too much, but the weight was too much for me, on such a steep slope. What should have taken us 1 hour to get down took over 2 hours, and we were so wrecked at the bottom, we had to devise an alternate plan for the rest of the way down the mountain. We payed the ranger from one of the huts, 1000 Kshillings (in my eyes, the best money I've ever spent) to take our heaviest pack down to the last station. Day 5 was a tough 12 km downhill rocky and boggy hike with still a lot of weight in our packs, but at least we were home free. Kurtis volunteered to walk the remaining 9 km down to the gate where the car was parked with no pack as Morgan and I waited for him to drive up and pick us up along with all our gear. Kind of disheartening to know that most of the weight of what we brought was for the technical rock climbing that had to be cancelled last minute. But all in all, it was quite an adventure and we did summit Point Lenana together, so we still felt a huge sense of accomplishment. Now back in Nairobi for a few days, before we join Kurtis and his family in Arusha Tanzania on April 8th. Its nice to rest and recoup a bit after such a long journey up and down. After pushing myself to do all these amazing and diverse adventures I have embarked on in Africa, I feel I can tackle almost anything in life that comes my way! What an amazing thing to learn about yourself, and to share with your future husband. I'll try to write another blog as soon as possible, but I am not sure when or where we will get internet access. 4 weeks left of our journey, we plan to hike Mt Meru, in Tanzania, go on safari in Ngorongoro Crater and visit the small village of Mugumu where Kurtis lives. Its not over yet.........its the end of one phase, the beginning of another, but the middle of life as I know it.