6/27/08 3:34 PM
When you step beyond the comfort of the known and understood there is the thrill of adventure, the exhaustion of adjustment and the agony of feeling down right retarded.
I left San Francisco two days ago in what has been the hardest parting of my life. I walked away from my tearful wife as I waved goodbye for what seemed an hour, only to want to run through customs to give her one last hug. I wish I had known this passion, this desire, this love for her earlier. I have wasted some much time being content with surface understandings and cursory approaches to our relationship. She is deeper then plato and more eloquent then Shakespeare, yet she converses with me in beautiful compassion of my ignorance. I can not wait to see her again.
So where did I leave off? Oh yes, the airport. My flight to seattle was pretty un eventful except this quirky construction worker who sat next to me telling me about how to make the most of my life. I arrived in seattle met up with Sarah and rode over to Amsterdam. She slept the entire way by downing some Z drugs and was left to my incapacity to manage my adenosine regulatory drive to sleep and its circadian clock of a step child mudding up the whole process. Needless to say when I arrived in Amsterdam people might have well thought I was stoned… but no it was do to getting no sleep and watching 6 movies on the flight over including Pocahontas (which of course I sung along to) and a variety of other post starlight flicks. On the 8 hour flight to Kenya I gave in, popped some BDZ’s and passed out only to awaken with cottonmouth and a lady named Julie next to me saying I was snoring. Thank you Julie. For the layover in Nairobi, I played chess with Ericka. I must say I was impressed by this girl for the game went on into the flight to Kampala, but yes I finished victorious with only a king and a bishop left.
Although we were tired, everything would be alright as long as we could get some sleep… right? WRONG! Turns out Kenyan air pinned me as a sucker from the get go and just decided to leave my luggage in the Nairobi airport. Now youd think to yourself, well that cant be too bad, right because they will send it the next day? WRONG AGAIN. They didn’t just leave it at Nairobi airport they put it on the luggage carasel and cant find it anymore, they think someone picked it up and walked home with it. So here I am with a large wad of Ugandan money, a pair of shorts, shirt, shoes and a watch seeing how little I can conquer east Africa with. But the Ugandan people seem to be in good spirits, so I will just go with the flow and see how things play out. Good thing I packed my malaria medication in my backback with me on the plane…. But nothing else.
We arrived in our place of lodging, the makere guest house at 2:30 AM after getting into nearly 4 road traffic accidents. Driving here is the worst I have seen in the world. We passed out only to be awoken at 6:00 am by a roosting, two fighting villagers and then the Islamic call to prayer. We ate what appeared to be mushy cereal and began work on settling into Uganda. So with all chaos behind us we set forth for our first full day in Uganda. We saw beauty in the mountains, simplicity in a worker watering the basketball course and a man picking up leaves with his hands on his lawn. We went to Mulago Hospital and got introduced to several doctors including the chief of surgery. After talking for quite awhile he attempted to set up a living space for us in his house, and have several of the Ugandan doctors carry our luggage for us. What an experience of hospitality, amazing. It is quite an experince here because doctors in training are calld Dr. after there first 4 years of eduation (Which amounts to my undergrad degree). So here I would be known as Dr. Nolan, but back home I get nothing, lol. Anyway, I am having a wonderful time so far, and am in the process of trying to internet with my laptop at our office.
-Nolan-
Day 2: No Malaria
6/28/08 5:03 Am
I have been lying awake in bed for the last two hours, despertly wishing to fall asleep. But I find myself with a slight twinge of happiness because it has given me a moment with the Lord I may not have had otherwise. In the hectic moments of my life, even here in Uganda, I do not allow time for God to speak to me. He has become so distant, so faint that it take miracle after miracle to bring me back. I have time here now in Uganda, for the first time in my life I have time, but do I have time for God? Father, please work in me, do something amazing with me so that I might cling to you in the most busy or silent moments.
Day 3: No Malaria
6/29/05 7:25 AM
The lines between dreams and reality are beginning to become blurred as I press on with lack of sleep. I keep dosing off with narcoleptic syndromes throughout the day entering into lucid dreams. Every dream involves my family and loved ones in the USA missing me and wishing me home. I then awake and am sad, because it is still very early and I will be gone for a much, much longer time. Where will I find strength in these times of missing those I cherish?
Yesterday was quite the day of adventure as my teammates and I learned about life in Kampala. We began our trek leaving our apartment walking toward the city central. I had hoped that traffic would improve if we were not walking on the main roads during rush hour, but was immediately shown that at every hour of every day the roads here resemble a coastal fog as you wade through the car exhaust and boda-boda fumes. The vehicles they have here are mostly antique almost, and yet what be some of the best mechanics in the world are squeezing 400-500 k miles from these hunks of junk. The traffic and heat at the end of the day would lead to a dark film that would cover my body, leaving behind the residue of poverty found throughout life in Kampala.
In Kampala, the pedestrian has no right of way, and to make it worse there is often none or very little “sidewalk” on the streets. People are hit by cars, feet run over by motorcycles, and if you want to cross the road you must dodge traffic like frogger. Walking around is quite the experience. I began taking pictures of the city, people, builds etc. But when we passed this side street on side Kampala road I put my camera away for good. I consider myself, not immune per say, but dulled to poverty and depravity around the world because of my experience with it both home and abroad. What I was to witness would top the saddest thing I have ever seen. In Kampala there is open sewers everywhere, so no matter where you go the distinctive smell of feces and urine is abundant. However in this area of the land the open sewers join to create what is like a culvert of human excrement. It is here where I saw families, elders, children living in this culvert. Children as young as 3 would be sifting through this sludge in hopes of finding bottles or something of value they could sell to acquire food. Here people begged not for money, but water…. Bodies, barely alive, lined the streets hoping for a handout that could provide substance for another day. I could have easily heaved whatever remnants of food were in my stomach at this horrible sight, but instead I emptied my wallet of whatever money I could find. I only had 80,000 shillings or so, I wish I had more. Seeing this life, this depravity was heart wrenching. People here do not have the luxury to think of others. They can only concentrate on self-preservation. My place of privilege and blessing in the United States is often forgotten midst my studies but is evident in every degree here. I have the privilege of being able to help someone, the privilege of worrying about a job or school, and the privilege of self reflection. When true poverty descends life is concerned with only one thing, making it to the next day.
The preceding statement is what mounted a reflection upon effectiveness in the third world. I met this Christian missions group on the flight that was ecstatic about brining 1000 pair of shoes to children in Rwanda. They were excited because of the grand impact they would make with there shoes. I then crunched the numbers… 10 flights and 2k eash + 1k living expeses each + 5$ per pair of shoe they are bringing = 35,000 to bring these shoes to the kids. If they had just given $35,000 to these people they could not only have had a pair of shoes, but food enough to feed them and there families for a year. I began to get disgruntled at Christian Missions trips and the ineffectiveness of them all. If I had my initial choice I would rather have given all the money for my trip to these people, but I know that my work here will save thousands of lives a year. I need to be diligent in my work, and invest our research and program, because it will pay off. My work here allows me effect change on a great level then I could as just a doctor. I often get disgruntled with my work back in the USA because the health system we have intact often places doctors in the role of placing a bandage over the health crisis instead of solving it upstream more. That problem is exemplified here in the lack of budgeting to put a ground well for clean water here but instead investing money in treating cholera that arises from lack of clean water. In the US there is so much bureaucracy and resistance to change, that is seems impossible for me enact change. But here I am a 23 year old medical student, working on developing the health care system for Uganda! When I write this I find both absurdity and solace in that statement. Solace because I have been greatly blessed in my life and my upbringing and with great power comes great responsibility. Here in Uganda I am able to invest my time and change a country. I find absurdity because where are governments priorities when iit takes 2 medical students and 2 surgeons from UCSF and Uganda to enact this countrywide change?
After we toured a gorgeous mosque near Makerere Hill we began to walk back to our place of lodging. When we were walking we saw a public gathering watching a scene that had unfolded after a recent accident. A boda-boda had been T-boned by a taxi while turning onto a side street. He had been injured pretty bad with massive losses in blood. The police arrived approximately 10 minutes later to take care of the individual. The Police Officer new exactly what to do, ABC’s, recovery position, splint etc causing Justin and I to be quite amazed. It was then we realized the badge and equipment this police officer had. This David Okoua was one of the trainees from OUR program. He was using the material I created, he filled out the information that I am using for my research, and my PI had even directly trained him. I was amazed we only accepted 300 people in this initial pilot program due to budget limitations and scalability issues, but this Police Man helping to save this mans life had been directly trained in my program. I was awestruck, I as stunned. I have not been through the prospective data yet, but already from 10,000 miles away I had been able to work on a program that was currently saving lives…. Whoa, humbling. They proceeded to load this man in a taxi and take him to Mulago Hospital.
Later in the evening we left for a local Ugandan Club where I was only 1 of 2 white people in the room. It was quite an interesting experience. There style of dance, and youths culture is much different then my own. Not only did my style of dance seem foreign, but most Ugandans are also very small. I would say the average Ugandan in height was 5’7. I stuck out. In any regard it was much fun, and an exciting cultural learning moment.
...and our little Charlie Brown tree which just so happened to be also a great deal.
~A
~A
