Perspective among the pigs

I think I have been in this room too long – I am starting to notice things that aren’t really clean – like the switch plates (which were dirty with fingerprints and old paint)… after contemplating the issue briefly, I got out my wet wipes left over from the flight and cleaned them all… including scraping the old paint off. Taking ownership of my problems! It felt good!

I began at a school today – St Elizabeth’s School & Children’s Center – total school enrollment: 230; orphans: just over 100. The school was a bright contrast to others I’ve visited…clean classrooms, lots of projects going on – a bead-making group, a group that makes pencils out of recycled newspaper, and gardeners… they were growing kale from seed (they reminded me of the tomato seedlings you had in the library, Frank) and planting them in big bags when the plants were mature enough… then they sold the bagged kale, the pencils and the bead-work. Very industrious! The only thing that took me aback was the tour of the “kitchen” area and realizing that the inside, open pit toilets were in the same room as the kitchen… We (Makena, Charlene and a volunteer from Rotary Int’l) went to the school to ask permission to film part of a documentary on childhood trauma, psychosocial support and the value of a child’s self-esteem – all being done by a woman from NC who will arrive next week (I actually may get to be part of the film, on behalf of Reach-Out, if we can schedule time together). The school was more than happy to participate… while there, I was also able to get two more surveys completed – I’m up to 44… goal 50!

We parted ways after the school visit and I spent the rest of the day with Velma and one of the “community elders” making home visits… we went as far as I have ever been in Dandora – to the edge of the settlement where there were goats, pigs and cows and where I could see the Nairobi River below! In two of the homes we visited today, the parents were quite ill. While HIV is rampant here, antiretrovirals are available for free; so many people are “living positively” with HIV (the catch phrase for being HIV+, but not ill). In these two homes however, the primary caregiver was ill – both had AIDS, one had TB too. We visited, brought a bag of rice to one large family and were able to add more eligible families to our waiting list. I so hope PEPFAR comes through with more money in the fall!

I can’t even tell you how far we walked to find the third family – a mother living alone with a 14 year old boy who was normal until he was 8, then began developing seizures and then lost use of his legs. Today, his legs are extremely thin and he jerked constantly, sometimes severely during our visit (seemed like constant mini seizures). He responded to our requests, but was not really able to speak. The mother has never been told what is wrong with him. A faded referral form requested “physiotherapy” and Phenobarbital – she has never been able to afford either. The two just live alone in this distant one-room shack at the edge of the slum. The mother said her son dreams of returning to school and had some very noble career plan (that I just can’t seem to remember as I write). The young man was wearing a #23 basketball shirt – despite his dismal conditions, I was so inspired that he still had a dream.

An odd thing about our travels today – Velma began by saying we were going to the slum today on our visits. What is amazing is that this entire area, including Velma’s kiosk & home (which I saw today), I would consider squalor…trash, mud, trash, sewage, trash, pigs…but in her eyes, the distant area near the river was the slum… this area was her neighborhood. I could not even ask her questions about how she decided what was slum & what was not, without implying that I actually considered her area a slum too. Like the young man with the seizures, I admired the sense of self-worth and pride (in a good way) that Velma has.

I have discovered a new view from my room. If I sit in the chair where I have set up my computer, I look out the window & see the little shanty village below – rusted tin shacks, dirt, no grass… but yesterday, for the first time, I sat in the chair on the other side of the room (all of 2 feet away)… from there I look out the window into trees, flowers and part of a road filled with fast moving cars. I thought about perspective… you can be in the same place, but have different views… and you can choose what you want to see. I think this may have some deeper applications, but I am too tired to make them tonight. As I am writing this though, I think Velma and the young man with seizures may already understand the value of choosing their perspective. I think I mostly just want to make sure I am seeing all the views.