Back In Kanga

08/28/05

But the point is that just $40 helped save this mother\'s life. Untreated TB combined with undiagnosed HIV spells disaster. And I was just amazed and moved that the AAN used the money in such an impacting and responsible way, and that such a small gesture had such a big effect. When I think about what I blow $40 dollars on in LA...

I made it. Mashed bananas never tasted so good.

The bus came earlier than expected, and not to the stage the ticket man said it would. I\'m lucky that they were trying to close the restaurant and so wanted to get rid of me, because they went and checked on it and pointed me in the right direction. I\'ve never been on a noisier bus. Apart from the normal engine racket, an argument broke out between two ladies that wanted to pay 100/= to Sirare, and the touts who wanted 150/=. Everyone joined in. Finally the conductor stopped the bus and went back to take care of the problem (no machete this time.) He was older and very level headed and seemed to solve the problem, but as soon as he started the bus moving again, the argument picked up right were it had left off. I was so tired and was having trouble keeping my eyes open but needed to because the conductor nor the touts knew where Kanga was, so they told me I was going to have to call it. Which was a little nerve racking because I had only been here once in the dark, and hadn\'t been here in two weeks, and its not like there are road signs or lights or anything. Its sort of like, okay, after this bend in the road, I think we go up a little hill and then down a bigger hill and then if that\'s a posho mill over there than yes, okay, this is it, \"STAGE!\" The driver didn\'t stop right away, he went up to the next \'intersection\' (where a dirt road crosses the tarmac) and let me off. The hundred-yard walk back to Casa Mama Liz was a little nerve racking. Pitch black except for a couple cars coming down the road. I was just certain that one of them was going to pull over and two guys were going to jump out and \'help me\' with my bags, and that would be the end. I\'m not sure why, but I threw my Mexican blanket up over my head, hoping I looked like a Muslim woman or something. Or at least not white. Both cars passed. It was very late, and I didn\'t want to wake up the family here, but the gate was locked and there is barbed wire surrounding the yard. So I triple folded my Mexican blanket and threw it over the spikes on top of the gate, which gave me just enough padding to get over the fence. It was a trick straight out of Fight Club. Thank you Mr. Palahniuk. I love my Mexican blanket. Best $5 I ever spent. It\'s been my pillow for a year, a jacket, a disguise, and now a handy little tool for B&E. I woke up this morning to soft knocking, Mama Liz had water to bathe, and breakfast ready. It\'s very good to be back.

It\'s my Grandma\'s birthday today, and I\'m sorry I\'m not with my family. It would be nice to see them all and celebrate. At least I will try and call.

There is an image that I haven\'t shared that is burned into my mind. It was the first week I was here, after meeting with the Adventist AIDS Network (an association of PLWAs.) We took a walk down to a river. Three boys were washing themselves. We sat together and relaxed. We were making our way back up the hill. We passed by three sugar cane farmers grinding and boiling their haul to make brown sugar for their illicit brew. And then we passed by a hut. We stopped. There was a young woman with a baby sitting out front. Apparently she was a member of the AAN, but hadn\'t made the meeting because she wasnÕt feeling well. She tried to speak to us, but her throat was so raw that she could only whisper. The baby was crying. The door was open to the house. I glanced in. There were no furnishings, only a few rags on the floor comprising what I assume was the bed. Robert told me that the husband had died. I was so affected by this widowed mother who was so sick that she couldn\'t even explain the problem. I don\'t think I\'ll ever forget that scene. Fast forward a week, before I left for Kampala, I gave Robert 3000/= to give to the AAN, one of the only times I have taken money right out of my pocket to give someone. I just knew that the AAN would do something good with it. They were all in so much need. Well today, Robert brought me their warm thank you, and told me that they used the money to help that sick mother that we had seen. They took her to the hospital and she was diagnosed with TB and treated. The money paid for transport and meds. And while they were there, they finally convinced this lady to test for HIV/AIDS. She never had (she was too scared and too sick.) They took her to a VCT where she was counseled and tested. Positive. This didn\'t surprise anyone considering the manner of her husband\'s death, but at least now that she knows she can begin to be treated (although, she cant start ART until her CD4 count dips beneath 200, which is ridiculous, but a Kenyan law, and a whole other can of worms.) But the point is that just $40 helped save this mother\'s life. Untreated TB combined with undiagnosed HIV spells disaster. And I was just amazed and moved that the AAN used the money in such an impacting and responsible way, and that such a small gesture had such a big effect. When I think about what I blow $40 dollars on in LA...

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