Because it is a tough week.

This week had a few tough days. When coming to Africa everyone has certain expectations of what they will see and experience. This is my 5th trip to Kenya and I am still taken by surprise by this country. Things happen here that would never happen in a developed country. They are horrifying and disturbing. This week I went with Daniel and a few others to look for property to build an Aids home on as well as to expand the Neema (street girl) project. I went because earlier in the week Ann, the TI social worker, mentioned a grandma in a village where we have projects who is dying of aids and has a six year old granddaughter, who also has aids, that has no where to go after the grandmother dies. She has asked us to take her granddaughter, Lillian, into our orphanage. The plan was to go and meet the grandmother and her grandchild. I wanted to go. It had been raining hard that day and we arrived to a very muddy village. We first checked on a widows project that TI manages that has been very successful. I was impressed at the sewing these women were doing. After checking on this project we walked through the small town area to the grandmothers home. As we walked I had this sense of "this is exactly what I thought Africa would be like". If Disneyland had Africaland I am sure it would be exactly like this town area. The small shops, people sitting outside, the muddy road and the children following us and holding my hand. We arrive at the grandmothers home which amounted to a block of "apartments" consisting of one room, a small window and a door. As we entered it felt as if we were entering a dungeon. It was so dark and dingy and the grandmother was very sick. There was no doubt she was dieing. Lillian had followed us to her home and came into the room with us. She wore a coat 10 sizes to large and keep her head down as we talked to the grandmother. Through the social worker the grandmother stated she was afraid what will happen to her granddaughter when she dies. The girl contracted aids from caring for her grandmother. Six years old!! The grandmother was so grateful there was a plan for her granddaughter. I whispered to Daniel, how does the girl feel about it? He had Ann ask her and the girl bowed her head even more and whispered something to Ann. Ann said she said it was fine. FINE!! How can this be fine? She is six! Her grandmother who has raised her since she was 9 months old is dieing!!! She will leave everything she knows and go to a different village and live with 30 children she doesn't know! How can any of this be OK?? I am struggling with this and wondering if there is a "better" way. Eventually Lillian will come into TI's care. It will be the "best" decision when her grandmother dies. But isn't there a better way? A better plan? Why does a 6 year old get aids from caring for her grandmother? So many questions!!

The next day one of our interns, Jennifer, went to the hospital with our social worker. When we did the previous medical clinics some people were referred to the hospital for more care. Jennifer has been interested in the medical aspect of the work done and wanted to experience the hospital. I have been to the hospital, once. I hope to NEVER return. It is horrific!! Two to four to a bed, dead bodies left for hours, stench and hopelessness. I can never come close to accurately describing it. I was concerned for Jennifer but this was something she wanted to experience. When she arrived with Ann and Daniel they checked on several girls who had been admitted the day before. When they arrived at the bed of a 12 year old girl she was dead. They do not know why she died. Her mother was in the room with her and Jennifer went to her mother and hugged her (not a very Kenyan thing to do, but a most compassionate act). I don't know how Jennifer made it through the day but she stayed at the hospital, shadowing Ann in getting medications for others who had come in that day for treatment and waiting for the child's body to be picked up and taken to her village (one calls a person with a pick up truck to come and transport the body). In Kenya, you must buy your own medications, food, IV's, bedding, and medical supplies in order to be treated. If the pharmacy is closed, you wait until the morning. Some die waiting for the pharmacy to open. You share a bed with at least one other person sometimes four people. You have to have someone stay in the hospital with you because you will not eat if someone doesn't provide food for you. I don't understand? How can ANY of this be OK? How can it continue? What is the answer?