Since our last post, we’ve said a teary good-bye to beautiful, rural Kitale and sweet Seed of Hope Orphanage—and JAMBO! to a new life in urban Nairobi and the Baptist Children’s Center.
Two weeks in Kitale was not nearly enough. Friday, we spent all day with the kids and leaving them was so surreal. I just didn’t realize how attached I could get to the kids at the orphanage in such a short time. I mean, I’ve traveled a bit and been to some really great places, but Kitale was the first place I’ve ever been where I’ve actually sworn to myself, “I’m going to do absolutely everything in my power to get back here somehow.” At this point, I don't even care about logistics. I just can’t stop thinking about what I wouldn’t trade for just one more hour in the new library with them, just one more day of teaching, just one more foster care visit, just one more hug from Ekile, Linah, Moses, Jane, Lau. And I just don’t think I could ever go back to being the same, back to the way I was before our paths crossed in Kitale, Kenya.
Nairobi is urban, new, different, full of all the usual hustle and bustle that comes with being in a big city. Our days here are long and busy—satisfying—but busy. On Sunday, we met a medical team from FBC Amarillo—3 doctors, 1 dentist, and 8 nurses in addition to an enthusiastic and well-prepared VBS team who have come to serve the orphans of the Baptist Children’s Center in Nairobi.
This week, I’ve had the privilege of assisting the medical team, running the “intake” room, which means I got a quick, crash course in the most basic nursing skills...taking blood pressure, configuring heart rates, checking weight and temperature, recording symptoms and allergies. Until now, I hadn’t realized what a massive undertaking it truly is to run a free clinic in a place like Nairobi. All hands are on deck...whether it’s crowd control, intake, pharmacy, VBS. The medical staff of FBC Amarillo will treat 700 patients from the BCC and surrounding communities in only 4 days, so, on my end, everything needs to be processed as quickly and accurately as possible.
Meeting the patients of the free clinic has been one of the toughest things we’ve come across thus far. I absolutely don’t have what it takes to be a medical professional. In terms of cases, I’ve run into everything from routine check-ups to far-progressed AIDS, in everyone from infants to the elderly. Brady and I held a malnourished, Down Syndrome six-year-old boy, whose wrists were slightly bigger than Brady’s thumb. His veins and arteries were so tiny that I couldn’t find a pulse. We tried to get him on a scale, but he started convulsing uncontrollably. Another patient was an 89-year-old man who, (we’re assuming) had fallen off his roof. He spoke no English or Swahili—only an obscure Kenyan tribal language, so no one could even communicate with him. I know that it’s the typical spiritual / emotional response, but I just hate that I can do so little to help.
On a lighter note, Buckner staff had previously cancelled our plans to get humanitarian aid—including some specifically requested Bibles for the kids— into Korogocho—a notoriously violent slum of Nairobi. Two days ago, we found out that, after much prayer, the are plans are back on. Please be praying for good health and safety—we will be quite busy for the rest of our internship with BCC, safari, Korogocho, the HIV baby home, and possibly Cabera.
--Katherine, for the Kenya interns
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