The Upswing


What goes down must come up and so it is with moods. The past few days have been so engaging that I’ve barely had a moment to brood. And what I’ve noticed is that I’ve felt more engaged since I left the US than I’ve felt at home lately. Amazingly, I seem to have achieved the necessary warp speed to have outrun myself.

Upon arrival, we were whisked off to meet a dozen more people (whose names and titles I may never remember). I’ve been drafted into the nursing school to teach, and as I dreaded, I’m expected to hit the ground running and teach 3 classes next week. Never mind that I’ve been asking for curriculum and student details, objectives, class schedules, etc. for months. For those who are not teachers, one 2 hour college level lecture can take weeks to prepare (& that’s if you know your audience). Be that as it may, I may hit the ground with a splat next week, but I’m on it…

Meanwhile, one of the best things about my experience here is that I am not alone. I have my charming Canadian engineer roommate Leigh and across the path is American pediatric nurse extraordinaire Ryan, who are both my kids’ age. Despite generational differences, they are both very accepting of their CMMB “Mom”, and I cook for them and offer support where I can. Companionship makes all the difference in the world when volunteering in the developing world.  At times I wake up in my little mosquito netting cocoon and have to remember where I am (which, considering all the traveling I’ve done in the past year, it’s no surprise). 

Yesterday’s reflection word was “gratitude”, something I always try to remind myself to have. And Ryan’s experience made me especially grateful due to my own  cowardice: I’m relieved not to be in the pediatric ward like him. This week he had 3 children die—a 5 day old with severe jaundice, a toddler postop from a  simple hernia surgery, and a 5 year old with rabies. This caused him some serious PTSD, a crisis of faith, and anxiety about his own rabies risk. 

Yet we roll with the punches and appreciate the joy and beauty of the Kenyan people, who are gracious, soft spoken and somewhat formal. The open market that’s such a blast, the Mass that was accompanied by a heavenly Swahili nursing student choir, the fleeting equatorial sunsets, the flamboyant color of the bougainvillea shrubs all reminding me that I am in Kenya and that it’s all good. 

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