Jambo Sana..

Today is Day Sita (six) and I am quickly approaching the one week mark. I must say time is not really flying by here. Each day is so monumental and eye-opening that it really sinks in. I am on the fence as to whether or not I would want to stay more than three weeks. Some of the other volunteers are here for six months. Unbelievable. I would like to think that I could last here for six months but, to be honest, I am not too sure I could. Perhaps if my volunteer placement was constantly changing I could manage or if I divided the time in half and swtiched between an orphanage and a health clinic. Ideally, when I come back, I would love to work with a mobile clinic that travels between communities and throughout the slums. That would be perfect.


Today in the clinic I worked the dispensary and by the end of the day I felt like I was on a roll. Like I wrote yesterday, the doctor wasn't coming in today, so it was the nurse, Lucy, and I with one administrator. I also had to work the treatment room today. Basically, the treatment room is where STAT medications/injections are given and any emergency care, which is rare at this clinic. Today I gave about ten injections to a combination of adults and kids. The rest just had take home prescription medications. The clinic is almost free to everyone. The only costs endured are for a patient chart, 5 Kenyan shillings (Ksh) - 1USD = 75 Ksh - therefore less than 5 USD cents. Only adults have to pay a 20 Ksh consultation fee, which again is like 20 USD cents. Amazing.

A lot of my close volunteer friends are gone this weekend, so I will be discovering some of Nairobi and Kenya on my own this weekend - don't worry Mom I will be SAFE.

Today is also my little sister's birthday. Madison is turning nine today. When thinking of how my sister is living her life compared to the nine year old children I see in Kenya, I am at a loss of words. What a difference. One of the kids I met at the orphanage is 9 years old. When he was seven, two years ago during the post election violence, both his parents were killed. He was locked in his house with his two younger siblings for two weeks. He fed his two siblings for the two weeks until they were discovered.

Another boy at the all-boy Kabete Rehabilitation School -it is called a rehab school because these boys have been 'sentenced' there by the government for bad/criminal behaviour - wrote a 'life story' for Denis, a 72 year old, American volunteer at the school who resides with us at the volunteer house. In the story, the boy tells Denis how his Dad was four hours late coming home from work one day, which was never the case. When his Dad got home he was bleeding everywhere from stab wounds. He told his son, the one writing this story, to come into the bed room. The Dad said he loved him the most out of all the siblings and, therefore, wanted to tell him the truth as to why he was bleeding. He told his son that today had been pay day, and as his friends made significantly less money then him, his friends stopped him on his way home and stabbed him six times before stealing his money. The Dad told his son who the friend was. The little boy, perhaps at the time 11 years old, gathered his friends and created a gang called the 'Labistas' - meaning the Revenge gang. They went to the Father's friend's house, broke in the door, went directly up the man in front of his family, and killed him with a machete. After getting home, he realized his Dad was taken to the hospital. The Dad had died in the ICU. The nurse told the boy that the last thing his Father had said was to tell him THANK YOU. The boy has been at the school for a few years and now realizes the mistake he made. The school is attempting to rehabilitate all the boys, who all have equally horrific upbringings. Once they have finished there term they will be sent back to their respective communities.

I will be visiting this school either next week or the week after as it is a soccer field distance from my clinic. The stories, lives and hardships the people of Kenya live through and endure is overwhelming. I would not know how to survive here as a child and, sometimes, I think how even now I would not survive. Nurses salaries are minimum. They travel great distances to work at their clinics and Kenya, as a whole, does not have many jobs available due to the effects of the recession.

I am so happy to live the life I have been so luckily given but, more importantly, I am so much more committed now than ever to make a difference in this world.

Love and happiness to all...

Jake