Yesterday, my first full day back home, I awoke with a start and bounded out of bed, absolutely certain that I was going to be late for breakfast. Surely the rooster had betrayed me and forgotten his wake-up call. Hey, what's all this furniture doing here and who moved the bathroom? Only after walking into walls a couple of times in my sleepy stupor did I remember that I was in my own home and it wasn't breakfast time at all, it was 1:30 a.m. Realizing that further sleep was going to elude me, I headed for the kitchen to make a cup of tea. How strange - and yet how wonderful - it felt to fill the kettle with tap water instead of bottled water. A small luxury, perhaps, but one that I will remember not to take for granted again.
Upon returning to Atlanta, I was met at the airport by President Sam and Sandra Ainsworth, along with Earl Stine and Past President David Beam, who had brought along a huge "Welcome home" banner. What a joy it was to see their faces at the top of the escalator! Once I was home and started sorting through the mail, I found cheery notes of encouragement from Nancy Edwards tucked into the envelopes containing club bulletins for the meetings I'd missed. While we were traveling, I had felt uplifted by the prayers of other club members and my family, as well, and had drawn strength from their love and caring. I hope they know how very much I love and appreciate all of them.
The trip seems almost surreal now. Wasn't it only yesterday that we started planning this trip and meeting online and getting to know each other? Now as we drive down the streets of our own communities, who will sing to us, "How are you ... how are you?" The image I see in the mirror looks like the same person who left home two weeks ago, but inside I don't feel like the same person at all. I feel like a child on Christmas morning who has just received the best present in the world and can't wait to share it with everyone I know.
Now as I unpack my luggage, do the laundry (finally!), struggle with jetlag, and reconnect with friends and family here, I still feel like I have my feet in two different worlds - the world here at home and another one halfway around the globe. I hope the luggage won't stay unpacked for long. Other children in other places still need our services. Where we will take our next mission trip is anyone's guess right now, but we must go somewhere and do this again for the same reason we took this trip: because, through Rotary, we can.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Mission Accomplished!
Our final day in Nairobi has arrived. Before this day ends, our group of 10 who flew out of Atlanta 12 days ago will board our fight to Amsterdam and head for home.
I believe it was Stephen Covey who once wrote that the four basic human needs are: to survive, to learn, to love, and to leave a legacy. I believe we have done all that ... and more. We also have all been reminded that the best things in life aren't things. That was proven to me very early in the planning process when I first began working with my co-team leader DGE Connie Spark (D-7390). For the past seven months, she and I have worked six to eight hours
a day (and sometimes more) for at least five days a week to put this project together, including an hour (or two) each day, collaborating on the phone. I'm sure those who know us would agree that we are both very strong personalities, yet in all of that time, not a single cross word passed between us. I feel very blessed to have worked with Connie and I hope we will do many more projects together.
A heartfelt THANK YOU to my long-time friend Peter Sotheran, who threw himself into this project and did such a great job of arranging our hotel accommodations, ground transportation, daily lunches at the campsites, and many more nitty-gritty details.
There are many more people who deserve special thanks and we'll do that privately. Meanwhile, there's one more day to take in the sights and sounds of Nairobi before we fly out tonight. Some of the group will head downtown for a bit of last-minute shopping. For me, it will be one last Rotary meeting to attend at noon, after which I think I'll have enough make-ups to last for the rest of the year.
I don't think any of us will ever eat another sandwich without remembering lunchtime in the camp at Mukuru. Try as we might to find a secluded spot to take a quick lunch break, we could never escape the hungry gazes of the little ones who typically get only one meal a day. Tired and famished as we were, we couldn't bring ourselves to eat in front of them, so many of us gave away at least part of ou
r lunches and contented ourselves with sneaking bits of granola bars when no one was looking. I found one wee tyke eating toothpaste after her dental check-up and slipped her a granola bar, too, which was mowed down in an instant.
Students from the vocational school across the road brought us steaming cups of chai tea and sweet pastries every morning. For some reason, those didn't appeal to the children, so we enjoyed them without feeling guilty.
Many times I wished we could have brought along a supply of soccer balls. Surely I could have found a tire pump somewhere to inflate them and what a wonderful novelty that would have been ! Kids here enjoy playing soccer and in the absence of real soccer balls, a wadded up bundle of old plastic bags tied up with strips of cloth becomes a make-shift ball. Unfortunately, we can't do everything that needs doing here, so perhaps this time it was enough to come and do what we do best.
I must take a moment to apologize to friends and family for not bringing home any souvenirs to share. All of you know me well, so it should come as no surprise that I have spent all my free time here networking and "Rotarizing" rather than shopping. Opportunities like this don't come around every day and I will find other ways to repay your many kindesses and magnanimous support.
To my second family, the Rotary club of Marietta Metro, and my extended family in District 6900, a thousand thanks for making this mission possible. I hope we made you proud!
Now we must say "Asante sana" Nairobi. Thanks for the beautiful memories, warm hospitality, treasured friendships and special times of fellowship and service together. Mission accomplished; it's time to go home.
I believe it was Stephen Covey who once wrote that the four basic human needs are: to survive, to learn, to love, and to leave a legacy. I believe we have done all that ... and more. We also have all been reminded that the best things in life aren't things. That was proven to me very early in the planning process when I first began working with my co-team leader DGE Connie Spark (D-7390). For the past seven months, she and I have worked six to eight hours
a day (and sometimes more) for at least five days a week to put this project together, including an hour (or two) each day, collaborating on the phone. I'm sure those who know us would agree that we are both very strong personalities, yet in all of that time, not a single cross word passed between us. I feel very blessed to have worked with Connie and I hope we will do many more projects together.A heartfelt THANK YOU to my long-time friend Peter Sotheran, who threw himself into this project and did such a great job of arranging our hotel accommodations, ground transportation, daily lunches at the campsites, and many more nitty-gritty details.
There are many more people who deserve special thanks and we'll do that privately. Meanwhile, there's one more day to take in the sights and sounds of Nairobi before we fly out tonight. Some of the group will head downtown for a bit of last-minute shopping. For me, it will be one last Rotary meeting to attend at noon, after which I think I'll have enough make-ups to last for the rest of the year.
I don't think any of us will ever eat another sandwich without remembering lunchtime in the camp at Mukuru. Try as we might to find a secluded spot to take a quick lunch break, we could never escape the hungry gazes of the little ones who typically get only one meal a day. Tired and famished as we were, we couldn't bring ourselves to eat in front of them, so many of us gave away at least part of ou
r lunches and contented ourselves with sneaking bits of granola bars when no one was looking. I found one wee tyke eating toothpaste after her dental check-up and slipped her a granola bar, too, which was mowed down in an instant.Students from the vocational school across the road brought us steaming cups of chai tea and sweet pastries every morning. For some reason, those didn't appeal to the children, so we enjoyed them without feeling guilty.
Many times I wished we could have brought along a supply of soccer balls. Surely I could have found a tire pump somewhere to inflate them and what a wonderful novelty that would have been ! Kids here enjoy playing soccer and in the absence of real soccer balls, a wadded up bundle of old plastic bags tied up with strips of cloth becomes a make-shift ball. Unfortunately, we can't do everything that needs doing here, so perhaps this time it was enough to come and do what we do best.
I must take a moment to apologize to friends and family for not bringing home any souvenirs to share. All of you know me well, so it should come as no surprise that I have spent all my free time here networking and "Rotarizing" rather than shopping. Opportunities like this don't come around every day and I will find other ways to repay your many kindesses and magnanimous support.
To my second family, the Rotary club of Marietta Metro, and my extended family in District 6900, a thousand thanks for making this mission possible. I hope we made you proud!
Now we must say "Asante sana" Nairobi. Thanks for the beautiful memories, warm hospitality, treasured friendships and special times of fellowship and service together. Mission accomplished; it's time to go home.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
End of Day 9 - 9/30/08
Toward the end of our last day in camp, the waterworks flowed freely. So many children have passed through our hands; now we can only hope they don't fall through the cracks. We've been told that the data we've collected will be closely analyzed. Our patient information forms are proving to be the best random sampling of the status of childhood health in this area that has ever been done - yet another very positive result of our being here.
No one was eager to see the last patient leave, but we had to close early to pack up our gear. The international team members exchanged small gifts with their Kenyan counterparts and hugged each other tightly, no longer reluctant to weep openly. Hundreds of photos were snapped in a final attempt to capture our time in this place. Personal supplies were sorted and crated for shipping home (more than 22 cases for the optical team alone) and excess supplies from grant funds prepared for transport and distribution to other local clinics.
When the final crates and boxes were locked and stowed, the Mukuru crew gathered for a huge group photo with some of our new Kenyan friends. Trying to edit out the "red eye" in this photo would be impossible; there are too many to count and the red eyes are all real.
As the international team members boarded the buses for the final time, the leaders of the Kenyan continent called me aside. "Will you please do one more thing for us?" they asked. Then leading me to the center of the courtyard, they showed me a freshly dug hole in the ground. Beside it sat a small tree, waiting for a new home. "We'd like you to plant this tree," they said, "to commemorate your visit. When you plant a tree in a place, it means you must return." So I knelt in the dirt in my scrub pants and gently planted the little tree and watered it in.
Some day, our little tree will see a new clinic rise here because 73 people from 10 countries put Service Above Self and traveled here to Make Dreams Real. Well done, my friends, well done!
No one was eager to see the last patient leave, but we had to close early to pack up our gear. The international team members exchanged small gifts with their Kenyan counterparts and hugged each other tightly, no longer reluctant to weep openly. Hundreds of photos were snapped in a final attempt to capture our time in this place. Personal supplies were sorted and crated for shipping home (more than 22 cases for the optical team alone) and excess supplies from grant funds prepared for transport and distribution to other local clinics.
When the final crates and boxes were locked and stowed, the Mukuru crew gathered for a huge group photo with some of our new Kenyan friends. Trying to edit out the "red eye" in this photo would be impossible; there are too many to count and the red eyes are all real.
As the international team members boarded the buses for the final time, the leaders of the Kenyan continent called me aside. "Will you please do one more thing for us?" they asked. Then leading me to the center of the courtyard, they showed me a freshly dug hole in the ground. Beside it sat a small tree, waiting for a new home. "We'd like you to plant this tree," they said, "to commemorate your visit. When you plant a tree in a place, it means you must return." So I knelt in the dirt in my scrub pants and gently planted the little tree and watered it in.
Some day, our little tree will see a new clinic rise here because 73 people from 10 countries put Service Above Self and traveled here to Make Dreams Real. Well done, my friends, well done!
Day 9 - 9/30/08
The breakfast room on this morning was very quiet. This was our final day in the camps and melancholy feelings were setting in. Around the room I could see silent tears beginning to fall and team members clutching each other. We are all thoroughly exhausted, but we have shared a very special time together. Our emotions have run the gamut from high-high to low-low and we have formed friendships that will last many years to come. Somewhere in the parallel universe we call "home," our families and friends await our return. We miss them terribly, but leaving each other and this place will be very hard. A full day's work still lay ahead and we were going to need a large supply of tissues to get through it.
Our patient flow today was steady but not frantic. The slighly slower pace, when we can afford it, gives our team more time to spend teaching the moms how to prevent the illnesses we're seeing. Throughout the mission, our team has done an outstanding job with the education piece of healthcare, but some days they've felt rather rushed, knowing how many patients were still waiting to be seen. Today and yesterday, that hasn't been the case.
The concept of illness prevention here is still very new and a plan to implement it sorely needed. Based on what we've observed, many of the basic components already are in place even in the slums. Fresh fruits and vegetables are available in abundant quantiti
es and varieties at affordable prices. Likewise, eggs, milk, and other sources of protein and calcium. People in the slums must walk nearly everywhere they go and even though there are few actual playgrounds, the children run and play in any open space they can find. At least a few homes have TV; we've seen the big satellite dishes, but they don't seem to lure the children into a sedentary lifestyle. Childhood obesity is not an issue.
What the people here need most, it seems, is a few good health educators to help them connect the dots: wash your hands, boil your water, brush your teeth, eat your veggies: very simple and basic stuff. That's not to say the job will be easy. Old habits die hard, as we know, but creating new ones isn't impossible. I sat in on a few of the sessions in our camp being conducted by local health educators and was pleased to see hand shooting up all over the room during the question and answer periods. Kenyans tend to be quiet and soft-spoken people, so their eager responses were all the more indicative of their desire to learn. The sessions were conducted in Kiswahili, most of which I couldn't understand, but the body language and reactions of the audience were enough to convince me that they were tuned in.
During the many times I've been interviewed here by the local media and officials from the Kenyan Ministry of Health, I've been asked what could be done to improve the conditions here. In every case, my mantra has been: clean up the trash and get to work on illness prevention and health/wellness education. I hastened to add that I'm not an expert; these are just my team's observations. We'll probably never know whether or not what we said has made any difference, but given the opportunity to speak, it doesn't hurt to try.
Our patient flow today was steady but not frantic. The slighly slower pace, when we can afford it, gives our team more time to spend teaching the moms how to prevent the illnesses we're seeing. Throughout the mission, our team has done an outstanding job with the education piece of healthcare, but some days they've felt rather rushed, knowing how many patients were still waiting to be seen. Today and yesterday, that hasn't been the case.
The concept of illness prevention here is still very new and a plan to implement it sorely needed. Based on what we've observed, many of the basic components already are in place even in the slums. Fresh fruits and vegetables are available in abundant quantiti
es and varieties at affordable prices. Likewise, eggs, milk, and other sources of protein and calcium. People in the slums must walk nearly everywhere they go and even though there are few actual playgrounds, the children run and play in any open space they can find. At least a few homes have TV; we've seen the big satellite dishes, but they don't seem to lure the children into a sedentary lifestyle. Childhood obesity is not an issue.What the people here need most, it seems, is a few good health educators to help them connect the dots: wash your hands, boil your water, brush your teeth, eat your veggies: very simple and basic stuff. That's not to say the job will be easy. Old habits die hard, as we know, but creating new ones isn't impossible. I sat in on a few of the sessions in our camp being conducted by local health educators and was pleased to see hand shooting up all over the room during the question and answer periods. Kenyans tend to be quiet and soft-spoken people, so their eager responses were all the more indicative of their desire to learn. The sessions were conducted in Kiswahili, most of which I couldn't understand, but the body language and reactions of the audience were enough to convince me that they were tuned in.
During the many times I've been interviewed here by the local media and officials from the Kenyan Ministry of Health, I've been asked what could be done to improve the conditions here. In every case, my mantra has been: clean up the trash and get to work on illness prevention and health/wellness education. I hastened to add that I'm not an expert; these are just my team's observations. We'll probably never know whether or not what we said has made any difference, but given the opportunity to speak, it doesn't hurt to try.
Day 8 - 9/29/08
Our luck almost ran out today. We've enjoyed perfect weather the entire time we've been here. This morning, however, was especially cool. Fat dark clouds covered the sky and the air felt heavy with moisture. A light drizzle dampened the windshield a we drove to the campsite. Slipping scrub jackets on over our t-shirts to ward off the morning chill, we wondered if this would be the day the rains came.
Luckily, by mid-morning, the clouds began to move out and the sun popped through to chase them away. The jackets came off, sun hats went on, and we breathed a collective sigh of relief. It was going to be another beautiful day.
Today the crowd on moms and children was a bit smaller. We are no longer the curiosity we were when we first arrived. The community leaders have apparently pronounced us fit for duty.
With every passing day, more and more volunters show up to help us and we are very grateful for their presence. Local third- and fourth-year medical and dental students have been on hand to work alongside us as translators and valued assistants. Local non-medical volunteers have helped with registration, crowd control, patient flow, and a wide variety of other tasks. In addition, Rotaractors and members of the Rotary Clubs of Nairobi North (our host club), Nairobi, Karen, Utumishi and Muthaiga, as well as Rotary Commu
nity Corps members have been on hand to assist us. Our pharmacist, Dr. Brenda, and her cadre of pharmacy students have provided their efficient services and local health educators have conducted wellness and nutrition information sessions to many hundreds of parents while they waited for their children to be seen by the medical staff. In short, we've had an army of local volunteers.
Prior to the mission, our non-medical volunteers on the international team wondered what on earth they could possibly contribute. I believe they all know the answer by now. All of them have been stars in their own special ways. One to whom both Connie and I owe very special and personal thanks is John Kirkwood (R.C. Jinja). John drove his big, burly 4x4 from his home in Uganda for 10 hours to get here. He had signed up for the mission less than one week before we departed and I have no idea what we would have done without him. John ferried Connie and me back and forth every day from hotel to campsite and back again, so that we could run the inevitable daily errands to the Nakumatt (Kenya's version of Walmart), the bank, or wherever else we needed to go. During the day, he made himself available to work anywhere he was needed and also did ambulance duty when we had a critically ill child who need more advanced emergency care than we could provide. More than one life was saved this week thanks to John.
NOTE: to any Rotarians reading this message ... John's club could use our assistance to purchase a van for transporting sick kids in his hometown of Jinja. I'm going to need some $$ help putting this project together, so please let me know if your club is looking for a good project.
Meanwhile, back at the camp ... a slower day today means we probably will not end up treating 12,000 children. Our final number is likely to be closer to 10,000. A bigger number would have been nice; however, we didn't come here to set records; we came to provide the best care we knew how and I truly believe we're doing that.
Luckily, by mid-morning, the clouds began to move out and the sun popped through to chase them away. The jackets came off, sun hats went on, and we breathed a collective sigh of relief. It was going to be another beautiful day.
Today the crowd on moms and children was a bit smaller. We are no longer the curiosity we were when we first arrived. The community leaders have apparently pronounced us fit for duty.
With every passing day, more and more volunters show up to help us and we are very grateful for their presence. Local third- and fourth-year medical and dental students have been on hand to work alongside us as translators and valued assistants. Local non-medical volunteers have helped with registration, crowd control, patient flow, and a wide variety of other tasks. In addition, Rotaractors and members of the Rotary Clubs of Nairobi North (our host club), Nairobi, Karen, Utumishi and Muthaiga, as well as Rotary Commu
nity Corps members have been on hand to assist us. Our pharmacist, Dr. Brenda, and her cadre of pharmacy students have provided their efficient services and local health educators have conducted wellness and nutrition information sessions to many hundreds of parents while they waited for their children to be seen by the medical staff. In short, we've had an army of local volunteers.Prior to the mission, our non-medical volunteers on the international team wondered what on earth they could possibly contribute. I believe they all know the answer by now. All of them have been stars in their own special ways. One to whom both Connie and I owe very special and personal thanks is John Kirkwood (R.C. Jinja). John drove his big, burly 4x4 from his home in Uganda for 10 hours to get here. He had signed up for the mission less than one week before we departed and I have no idea what we would have done without him. John ferried Connie and me back and forth every day from hotel to campsite and back again, so that we could run the inevitable daily errands to the Nakumatt (Kenya's version of Walmart), the bank, or wherever else we needed to go. During the day, he made himself available to work anywhere he was needed and also did ambulance duty when we had a critically ill child who need more advanced emergency care than we could provide. More than one life was saved this week thanks to John.
NOTE: to any Rotarians reading this message ... John's club could use our assistance to purchase a van for transporting sick kids in his hometown of Jinja. I'm going to need some $$ help putting this project together, so please let me know if your club is looking for a good project.
Meanwhile, back at the camp ... a slower day today means we probably will not end up treating 12,000 children. Our final number is likely to be closer to 10,000. A bigger number would have been nice; however, we didn't come here to set records; we came to provide the best care we knew how and I truly believe we're doing that.
Day 7 - 9/29/08
On the seventh day we rested ... sort of. Most of us chose to sleep in a bit. That didn't stop the rooster from crowing, but today we didn't have to rise to his wake-up call. What a luxurious feeling to have an entire day free to do as we pleased!
Last night we were honored at a gala event, hosted by the dynamic duo of Rotary District 9200 Governorn Kaushik Manek and Asst. Gov. Geeta, his gracious wife. U.S. Ambassador Rannenberger was among the guests who numbered nearly 300. No Rotary event would be complete without a few speeches and this night was no exception. Then we were treated to a lavish meal, after which the dancing began. All in all, it was truly a magical evening and the clock had struck 1 a.m. before our coaches turned into pumpkins. (Eat your heart out, Cinderella!)
After all of the wonderul food we've consumed this week, it's a wonder that any of us have clothes that still fit. Apparently, though, we're walking, working, and sweating it off, as no one seems to have gained an ounce.
Rest Day found some of our group heading off to church, while others went shopping. Still others of us did our best imitations of couch potatoes - at least for a while. But the lure of a cookout was too much to resist, so off we went to an afternoon with Darsi and Dr. Barbara - a barbeque, Indian-style, where the men do all the cooking and the women get to sit around sipping wine and nibbling on hors d'oeuvres all afternoon (although Yolanta and I somehow got coerced into helping). Definitely a concept worth exporting - the sooner, the better!
I expected the conversation this afternoon to include expressions of homesickness. Instead, the big questions were: "Can't we stay in Nairobi a little longer?" and "When are we coming back?" and "Where are we going next year?" Talk about shock and awe! All along I'd been concerned about working people too hard here, but already they're wanting to go out and do this all over again. Perhaps the heat is causing them to hallucinate. We'll find out in the next two days.
Last night we were honored at a gala event, hosted by the dynamic duo of Rotary District 9200 Governorn Kaushik Manek and Asst. Gov. Geeta, his gracious wife. U.S. Ambassador Rannenberger was among the guests who numbered nearly 300. No Rotary event would be complete without a few speeches and this night was no exception. Then we were treated to a lavish meal, after which the dancing began. All in all, it was truly a magical evening and the clock had struck 1 a.m. before our coaches turned into pumpkins. (Eat your heart out, Cinderella!)
After all of the wonderul food we've consumed this week, it's a wonder that any of us have clothes that still fit. Apparently, though, we're walking, working, and sweating it off, as no one seems to have gained an ounce.
Rest Day found some of our group heading off to church, while others went shopping. Still others of us did our best imitations of couch potatoes - at least for a while. But the lure of a cookout was too much to resist, so off we went to an afternoon with Darsi and Dr. Barbara - a barbeque, Indian-style, where the men do all the cooking and the women get to sit around sipping wine and nibbling on hors d'oeuvres all afternoon (although Yolanta and I somehow got coerced into helping). Definitely a concept worth exporting - the sooner, the better!
I expected the conversation this afternoon to include expressions of homesickness. Instead, the big questions were: "Can't we stay in Nairobi a little longer?" and "When are we coming back?" and "Where are we going next year?" Talk about shock and awe! All along I'd been concerned about working people too hard here, but already they're wanting to go out and do this all over again. Perhaps the heat is causing them to hallucinate. We'll find out in the next two days.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Day 6 - 9/27/08
This was our biggest day yet. If our patient flow continues as it has so far, we will have seen and treated about 12,000 kids by the time we close the camps next Tuesay. In our wildest imaginations, we could never have predicted this result.
Publicity-seeking is not my style. Generally, I prefer to fly under the radar and away from the glare of the flashbulbs. Here in Nairobi there's been no such luck; however, in this case it's been a good thing. Attention from the media, which has intensified as the week has worn on, has brought about the very best kind of result.
From the beginning, many of us have wondered what would happen to these children when we go home. Will anyone follow after us, or will they continue to be the forgotten ones? Today we learned the answer. Already plans are afoot to convert our mission camp site at Mukuru into a permanent children's clinic, thanks in large part to some significant funding from the U.S. government. Normally when I hear that our government is funding yet another social program, I would roll my eyes and cynically mutter, "Your tax dollars at work." But somehow this time is different. We have lived among the people here and have seen firsthand their needs and their efforts to help themselves. We have watched them eagerly soak up information about healthcare and wellness; we have experienced their enthusiastic assistance to us, turning out in droves to help in the camp in any way they can - even when the help we need is scrubbing dirty dental instruments and keeping our workspaces clean. No task it too menial for our Kenyan volunteers to accept. If our mission here has been the incentive for a new clinic in this area, as we've been assured that it has, we will have contributed to giving people a hand up, rather than a handout. What better legacy to leave behind than that! Maybe the publicity we've received isn't so bad after all.
The Kenyan people whom we're serving have not been the sole beneficiaries of our mission here. We, too - every last one of us -have been on the receiving end of a wealth of knowledge, experience, friendship, fellowship and yes, pure joy. Those of us who have been in the medical profession for a long time have grown accustomed to relying on medical science by way of fancy diagnostic tests and tools and high-powered medicines. Here we don't have those luxuries. We have only our hands, our eyes, our ears and our gut instincts to go on. Not exactly modern medicine ... and yet, we have honed our powers of observtion and our listening skills and learned to make do with what we have.
In the mission camp, the kind of medicine we practice is more art than science - at times more folk art than fine art - practiced more with the heart than with electronic gizmos and gadgets. In the process, I have seen the inner beauty of my team members shining through, as they cooperate, collaborate, communicate and share their special talents and skills with each other to provide the best care they have to offer to these little ones. The children we are treating probably won't see our faces again and certainly won't remember our names, but we will never forget what we've learned and experienced while serving them.
Publicity-seeking is not my style. Generally, I prefer to fly under the radar and away from the glare of the flashbulbs. Here in Nairobi there's been no such luck; however, in this case it's been a good thing. Attention from the media, which has intensified as the week has worn on, has brought about the very best kind of result.
From the beginning, many of us have wondered what would happen to these children when we go home. Will anyone follow after us, or will they continue to be the forgotten ones? Today we learned the answer. Already plans are afoot to convert our mission camp site at Mukuru into a permanent children's clinic, thanks in large part to some significant funding from the U.S. government. Normally when I hear that our government is funding yet another social program, I would roll my eyes and cynically mutter, "Your tax dollars at work." But somehow this time is different. We have lived among the people here and have seen firsthand their needs and their efforts to help themselves. We have watched them eagerly soak up information about healthcare and wellness; we have experienced their enthusiastic assistance to us, turning out in droves to help in the camp in any way they can - even when the help we need is scrubbing dirty dental instruments and keeping our workspaces clean. No task it too menial for our Kenyan volunteers to accept. If our mission here has been the incentive for a new clinic in this area, as we've been assured that it has, we will have contributed to giving people a hand up, rather than a handout. What better legacy to leave behind than that! Maybe the publicity we've received isn't so bad after all.
The Kenyan people whom we're serving have not been the sole beneficiaries of our mission here. We, too - every last one of us -have been on the receiving end of a wealth of knowledge, experience, friendship, fellowship and yes, pure joy. Those of us who have been in the medical profession for a long time have grown accustomed to relying on medical science by way of fancy diagnostic tests and tools and high-powered medicines. Here we don't have those luxuries. We have only our hands, our eyes, our ears and our gut instincts to go on. Not exactly modern medicine ... and yet, we have honed our powers of observtion and our listening skills and learned to make do with what we have.
In the mission camp, the kind of medicine we practice is more art than science - at times more folk art than fine art - practiced more with the heart than with electronic gizmos and gadgets. In the process, I have seen the inner beauty of my team members shining through, as they cooperate, collaborate, communicate and share their special talents and skills with each other to provide the best care they have to offer to these little ones. The children we are treating probably won't see our faces again and certainly won't remember our names, but we will never forget what we've learned and experienced while serving them.
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