Packing up, saying goodbye...

It is Saturday and I am spending the day with different friends and saying goodbye. We will leave for Kampala in the morning for our early morning flight on Monday. I want to share a few more things when I get home, but it will be a few days before I can do so.

I continue to meet new friends, so many foreigners here working for different NGO's (non governmental organizations/humanitarian organizations). Had a long conversation with Klaudia, from Austria at breakfast. And she shared some of her experiences of last October when 3 different NGO's were ambushed while she was in the same area.

Before I forget, please pray for my friend, Matt, who is from Samaritan's Purse. He had about 15 of us over a few nights ago and we watched the Chronicles of Narnia at his house and ate popcorn. Matt just went to Ethiopia yesterday on business with SP and there were at least 8 bombings in the capitol. I pray that he is safe, he is to be there the rest of this week.

Thank you for all your kind emails, thoughtful words, and your prayers. They have meant a lot to me. I will blog again as soon as I make it home.

On my way home, Brenda

National Holiday, again...!

So, guess what?! Yesterday morning, as we were at the office preparing to leave for Abia Camp, some of the staff were reading the newspaper, and on the front page it stated that today, Friday, would be a National Holiday. And for what reason is this?! Because President Museveni is being sworn in, after a joke of an election and twenty years of dictatorship. Oh, did I say that aloud? Because, the world is not supposed to know. Anyway, we could not go to Obim Camp today to serve the people of Northern Uganda, because the President and his followers wanted to celebrate a ficticious victory in a rigged election.

Our work in the camps came to an abrupt end yesterday, as we will leave for Kampala on Sunday to catch our flights home on Monday. The time here has flown by with an added element of a busy social life in the evenings and on weekends with missionary friends we have made. It has been a full trip filled with many wonderful memories, but I know that it will be a difficult reentry into my life at home. I am dreading that part. Every trip I make it seems to get a bit harder. We have it so easy in the States, yet it is a country rife with whining and complaining. Very few are content and feel blessed for what they have, every one is obsessed with the want for MORE.

Today I spent the day walking through the market with Sally looking for material. All of the people working there in the little shops and stalls live on less than $100 a month, and reside in tiny little houses with no electricity, no running water, and cook over charcoal fires.

In the afternoon I went with my friend, Marcel, and a couple of Ugandan ladies to deliver food to two families that House of Grace Orphanage is helping to feed. One family was a family of 4 children, the oldest a boy 16 years old, living in a tiny hut with a mud floor. The other was a family of 7 living in a tiny two room house with no plumbing whatsoever. This is here in Lira Town, not out in the camps. It was a good experience to see what this ministry is doing to impact the lives of people here.

Feeling blessed and ashamed at my consumeristic lifestyle, and praying that I will not forget what I have seen and experienced.

Local Practices...

I am now counting down less than a week until I am home, and I am ready. Working in the camps is emotionally and physically draining. It is overwhelming and seems so futile at times.
Today was we were at Alito Camp and I just shook my head as we drove in past the hordes of people lined up waiting our arrival, most of them mother's with small children.

A question that now comes up with every single infant brought in is: "Has there been local tonsillectomy or removal of false teeth?" In every village there is a "local healer", I do believe in the early days of missionaries they were called witch doctors. The people will take their feverish and very ill children to these people in the hopes that their practices will provide some relief.

The local healers believe that the white patches that form on a child's lower gums, where the incisors are located carry infection, so they will take a long fingernail and gouge out that area. The same is done at the back of the throat where they might see white patches, and once again they will gouge or scrape the tissue with a fingernail. As you can only imagine this is terribly painful and unsanitary, so what ends up happening is that these children then end up with a raging infection.

As if this isn't enough, sometimes, they will take a small snare made from wire, or a sharpened bicycle spoke and cut out the uvula. You know, the dangly thing at the back of your throat. Frequently when they do this the children will lose much blood and become severely aenemic, requiring hospitalization and blood transfusions. The parents don't believe that there is much blood loss as the children tend to swallow all of the blood.

It made me very angry when I first learned of these practices and the sheer terror these children must endure when this is happening to them. But then the realization hit that these people are desperate. They have had no access to health care, doctors, clinics, or hospitals. When their children are sick and even having febrile convulsions from malaria they are at their wits end. Why not try the local tonsillectomy, there are no other alternatives.

Most of the adults also have many small scars on their arms, chest, or legs. These are caused by being cut to release the pain or the infection. Once again, imagine in your lifetime having no one with any education or medication to treat you and you are in pain, you might just try anything.

Even though it at times is discouraging and seems futile, I am thankful to be able to help a few. It will take much more education and patience to see these practices disappear.

Thankful for the healthcare available to me in the States, Brenda

Things that I love about Uganda...

I came up with a list of things that are frustrating and things that I love about being here in Uganda. But I always like to end on a positive note so I will begin with:

Things that are frustrating or have to be endured in Uganda:

• The overpowering and acrid smell of body odor.
• Not having enough medications to treat all of the sick children brought to us.
• Pesky flies that dive bomb into your mouth, eyes, and ears!
• Government soldiers riding in the backs of small pickups (Toyota Hilux) with their large loaded weapons (AK 47's and bigger) pointed casually at all of the people, myself included!
• Malaria, Tuberculosis, HIV/AIDs, STD's, Malnutrition, running rampant without treatment.
• Powerful storms that disrupt our mobile clinic.
• Small children forced by circumstance to carry heavy loads for miles.
• Disabled people that do not have any type of mechanical aids to assist them.
• Power outages at any time and frequently.
• And many more...!
  

Things I love about East Africa...

• The incredible storms with thunder and lightning from the safety of a porch.
• The friendly people whose faces light up when they smile.
• The flowering trees and bushes with bright colors.
• The variety of fruit and vegetables.
• The way the individual family gardens/crops are growing so nicely now. The maize is so tall with lots of sunflowers interspersed. There are beans, potatoes, greens, eggplant, and so much more.
• The way the hills are so green now with all the rain.
• New friends from all over the world here working in with different ministries and organizations.
• That anything can and will be carried on a wooden wheel barrow or on a bicycle.
• That the occupancy for most bicycles is 4, two adults and two children, 10 chickens, and a goat or two.
• Going to the market is such an adventure with various smells, a plethora of colors, an endless variety of goods. The fish comes fresh in large baskets from Lake Kyoga not too far away. And there are seamstresses willing to make you a shirt or dress any style you want.
• The chicken is so fresh at our restaurant that it arrives hanging upside down still blinking and breathing! Ha!
• There is so much more that I love...

I only have a few more days here, and I notice that I am looking at everything intently, as though I am trying to make a deliberate and deep impression on my mind so that I won't forget a thing. My only regret is that I cannot fully share with you everything that I am seeing and experiencing, it is so beautiful and alive, and real! I will miss this place and these people.

But I do look forward to seeing the love of my life, soon, my dear husband of 19 years!

Blessings to you all, Brenda

Vehicle problems and sand blasted...

We had a very late start today with one of the vans needing repair. So we improvised and took a Northwest Medical Teams SUV but it does not hold as many people or as much equipment, so we left behind a couple of staff. We set up and got started by noon time with many patients in line to see us. Just after lunch the clouds and thunder started rolling in. The camp manager decided that we should finish with the patients in our tents, and he made a great call! It was just before 3 PM when the winds kicked up as I threw my stethoscope, blood pressure cuff, and books into my backpack. We tossed out all the stools and tables so that the tent could be collapsed.

I did not want to step outside into the fierce sand storm blowing through the camp. I could not even see fifteen feet away at times as the dirt and debris was moving horizontally. We had to hang on to everything so that it would not be blown away. Then occasional big drops of mud started pelting us. I'm sure that at some point in the sky above us it was rain, but by the time is reached us it was mud and it coated everything! Our faces, hair, clothes, equipment and tents was covered in the grime. We were able to throw most of the gear into the two vehicles before the rain started in earnest, but a couple of people continued to tie things on the rooftop in the downpour.

Once again, many of our patients had to scatter without receiving their medications and many without being seen. There's always something, ah, this is Africa! We drove home through showers and streams for roads.

So glad for a hotel shower, even a cold one. Had to wash my hair twice as the red dirt was embedded. I may have to wash the set of clothes I was wearing twice as well. The rains have passed here in town, but a cloud cover persists, and the temperatures have dropped to a more tolerable level for me.

We will have dinner tonight with the French Canadians that are leaving and we have befriended. Friendships move quickly here as you cut past the superficiality on the first meeting. This is not a travel destination and most foreigners are here with a purpose, mostly to help. I was fortunate to make a bunch of new friends this past weekend, and got to know them as 15 of us enjoyed a leisurely dinner at Pan Afric. To be perfectly honest, most restaurant meals are leisurely because it normally takes forever to get your food! Blessed to widen my circle of amazing friends forsaking a life of comfort to serve the less fortunate.

A day in the life...

There is only one week left of my medical mission here in Uganda, and I thought I would share with you what a typical day is like...

I wake up around 6:30 AM and it is still mostly dark outside. Here on the equator there is equal amount of daylight and night time. The sun is up by 7AM. I crawl out from under my mosquito net and slip on my flip flops to go and shower. Most of the times it is a cold, brisk shower, but if I am lucky I might get a little warm water. I dress and head down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. This has become a tedious excercise as the options are scrambled eggs, frieds eggs, or their idea of omlette, which is just egg that has been scrambled and allowed to cook flat, no cheese. There is always a small glass of fresh passion fruit juice, a slice of fresh pineapple and two pieces of dry white bread/toast.

We get picked up by the Northwest Medical Teams van at 8:30 AM to head to the office. When we arrive all of the equipment is loaded into boths vans, and about 26 people pile into two small Toyota vans. A prayer is said for the day and we are generally on the road by 9:30 AM. The drive through Lira is interesting swerving around multiple pot holes, bicycles, wheelbarrows, large lorries, pedestrians, goats, cattle, and chickens. Once on the outskirts of town the paved (loosely speaking) road turns into very rutted and dusty, red roads. Most drives take at least an hour of bumping around past different camps, with all of the little naked and half naked children with big pot bellies running to the edge of the road, all of them jumping up and down waving at us. They are usually screaming, "Mono, Mono, Mono!" Which means white person. They always make me laugh!

Once we arrive at our destination, usually under the shade of some large trees, we start unloading all the gear. Everyone has a duty, and the tents begin to go up, while tables are put together and the pharmacy gets organized. There are two people registering patients, another couple of people throw a rope over a low branch and attach a scale to it. Babies are then placed into a sling and hung on the scale to be weighed, similar to weighing a fish! Low wooden benches are placed in front of each tent space that will have healthcare staff seeing patients. The tents we have are large family sized camping tents with three equal sections. I have been designated the center of one tent with my interpreter, David. We have a small plastic table, a stool for each of us, and one close to the door for our patients to sit on.

We greet each person as they come in and they hand us their registration cards with their basic stats: name, age (if they know it), what tribe they are from, and occupation. Occupation is generally filled in with soldier, student, or peasant farmer. Not a lot of choices in the camps. I mostly listen to lungs, palpate spleens (you can feel some very large ones here!), and look at tons of rashes and sores. There are always at least 15-20 pairs of eyes watching us, and only occasionally do we need to zip the door closed for a private exam. I write a brief assesment on the back of the registration card, diagnoses, and medications they need. The patients are then instructed to go to the pharmacy tent, where they wait again.

We generally are told to come and take lunch around 1PM. We stand, stretch, and walk away from a line of about 20 people waiting to see us. We go to the pharmacy van, where we are handed, one chapati, two boiled eggs, and four or five small bananas. After taking about 15 minutes to eat we head back to the tents. We usually try and finish seeing whatever patients we can by 4 PM and then begin tearing down clinic. Packing everything into the vans and frequently squeezing in 2 or 3 patients to be brought into the hospital.

The ride home is usually more dusty as there are more large trucks on the road, billowing of thick, black exhaust and a cloud of dust. On arrival at the office things are unloaded and locked into the office. We try and get a ride home soon after that. I hit the shower right away and this time the cold water feels great. I then immediately hit the internet cafe so that I can make it back to join the others for supper by 7 PM.

Supper tends to have a little more variety and I am quite content with the rice and beans, or rice with avocado and tomatoes. They make pretty good chips (french fries), and the tilapia (fish) has been quite tasty. I have only eaten chicken a couple of times, but these are free range birds so they are quite tough. We have discovered several other restaurants within walking distance, and our favorite is the Mango Tree. They serve a nice and spicy Bryanni, and Masala. We walk home in almost pitch black as there are no street lights, the biggest hazard being bicycles with no lights.

I get back to my room by 9 PM, swallow my antimalarial. and tuck my mosquito net around my bed, with the fan blowing right on me. If power is on I will get to watch the BBC news and see what it happening in the world. I love watching the world weather forecast, and for some reason, they never show North America. When I turn off the TV and the lights I can see the stars twinkling brightly in the sky and my thoughts always turn to home and those I love.