The last one alive

Staying sane here is no easy task, especially since all visitors are locked in their house at night (and since we are on the equator-sunup and sundown occur at the same time every night). Getting through those nights here, Helen and David and I would have long chats over dinner before going to brave the bucket showers. When I first arrived here, I was jet lagged for a week and was going to sleep at 7:30-8pm Kenya time. Now that I have finally acclimated to the time change, I have been regularly staying up to 11pm or even into the next morning if I am writing a blog entry. David and I stayed up many of the nights in the last couple of weeks talking about the big picture of life. David has gone through numerous major career changes and huge life changes but he has always followed his heart. Unfortunately, this did not come without a very high cost to him-and I hope to feature a journal entry dedicated to him very soon. Helen left Weds to go back to San Diego and her next rotation. Helen was quite a bit different than David and I. First of all, she loved every aspect of being here-she didn’t care about the lack of electricity or running water, grocery stores, restaurants, or the general American life. She is planning on going into family medicine so that she can practice in 3rd world countries eventually. She jumped on learning Swahili when she arrived and at least knew a lot more phrases than I ever learned. She also got more personally involved with all the hospital staff and was going to the houses of the clergy and hospital staff. When she left, only the thought of going back to her husband helped her leave-people came to visit to say goodbye here and I could tell she didn’t want to leave. David on the other hand needed the same things I did-the ability to go out at night, utilities, not having to sleep under a claustrophobic mosquito net, etc. He was counting down the days until he could leave. Like myself, he had a great appreciation for Kenya’s natural beauty and fell in love with the kids here-but he reiterated over and over, there’s only so much suffering and injustice one can tolerate seeing. David worked like a dog while he was here, news that an ENT was in the area spread like wildfire and people came from all over to see him. He’s an excellent teacher and taught the staff many simple, sustainable ENT treatments for the common problems here. When he left yesterday (without anyone coming to say goodbye but me and Hardison) it was devastating for me, but this man belongs to the ocean. He can hear the surf from his house in Cape Cod and is an avid diver-the man needed salt water in his veins to be truly alive-and I hope he gets back in the water today as he arrives home. Last night was bad though, rather than write, I did the things I didn’t do because I was always up talking all night-watching mythbusters episodes and playing some Nintendo DS. Emmah, the housekeeper is still here, but she is a ghost here-barely talking to David or I (she would chat with Helen quite a bit) and keeping to her room. For the rest of the trip, I will be alone here in the house-just like in Memphis but this isn’t the same. While I now have a much larger bed (no more having to worry about getting up and smacking my head on the top bunk) and a small desk to type from, the only noise now comes from the multitude of roosters outside-Helen’s constant singing Swahili hymns and David’s chatter just an echo is the past now.
I miss them, I miss Bethany even more.

Painful Lessons in Swahili-this is why I can’t go out at night

Mlinzi wetu alipigwa hadi akafa na wezi


Our watchman was beaten to death by thieves