 |
| A Mnyenzeni primary school student |
As I sat on the porch early this morning, the cool breeze was welcome. A small group of seven local chickens casually hopped onto the porch with me and each one, within a few feet of coming aboard, ceremoniously christened the clean cement with a nice plop of chicken poop. These birds are always running around our place, and we won't even allow our own flock to meander the area. Two small boys were passing, so I paid them a handsome bounty to catch me a couple of the birds. The chase was on. Within two minutes each boy strolled back to me with a squawking bird held by their legs upside down. I took the birds and placed them with our flock, asking the boys to notify the owner where they were, and why I had captured them. He'll need to repay me the bounty I paid the boys, or he'll be out a couple of chickens. He has been warned on numerous occasions, so my actions will not be a surprise to him. Just like the goats in our garden plots - if they come onto my land, we'll talk. If you ignore the issue, I'll eat your chicken or goat.
A couple of our board members showed up wearing winter coats since they had been riding their motorbikes in 85 degree temperatures, producing wind chills of around 83 degrees. It's hilarious to see their intense reaction to anything cold. They can pick up a pan of boiling water with their bare hands, but place an ice cube in their palm and watch them writhe with discomfort and pain.
I had an appointment with the scholarship students and parents up at the Secondary School. Our new guidelines were put into place, and some of the children lost their free schooling due to performance issues. As difficult as that was, the parents were fully supportive of our position, recognizing that those students who were given a scholarship out of Primary School were to maintain a high level of performance. For those who did not, we were forced to remove them to make room for other students who have proven themselves.
Once finished with the students I headed towards the Koins Rotational Gardens. I am always intrigued by the crowd at the dispensary, so I detour just a bit to run in and say hello to Naomi and her staff. Vyani was trying to weigh a baby, while Joyce was chatting with a young lady in Swahili about something. I went into the main treatment area and found Naomi completing some hand-written documents for her medical files. Two boys from the Secondary School from where I had just departed rushed into the door carrying one of their fellow students. He was panting like an overheated dog, semi-unconscious, and beginning to convulse. They laid him on the bed and Naomi began calling his name to get him to respond. In hasty Swahili Naomi raised her head and shouted some orders into the air so the other assistants working in the adjoining rooms could quickly respond. This public address system is as basic as it gets, but it works just fine. The medical staff witnesses so many situations in the course of the day that in the middle of their calmness it actually unnerved me. This poor kid was in serious trauma, and the orderly way in which they attended to him never came close to entering the realm of panic. Like a conductor having her choir stand in unison, Naomi's over-worked, under-appreciated, under-staffed, under-equipped medical staff, responded to her call. Blood pressure was taken as another nurse serenely pricked the boy's finger, placing a few drops of blood on a microscope slide. She vanished as quickly as she appeared since she had a slide to prepare with a special dye, then she had to read it properly, and finally, see if she could help decide what created this situation. Vyani, the male assistant rounded the corner and meaningfully sauntered into the room with a small cup filled with two tablets and glass of water. Supposedly this would calm the boy and reduce his fiery fever. Three of them grabbed the boy's arms and torso and sat him up. Naomi continued calling loudly to the limp-bodied boy "Kalimbo, Kalimbo," trying to get him to respond. The pills were placed in his mouth, head tilted, and water poured in. Kalimbo choked, but the tablets went down.
Within 5 minutes a note came from the other room detailing the results of the malaria test. Kalimbo tested positive with the disease that kills more than 2 million Africans each year - Malaria. An I.V. was set up and a drip line attached to Kalimbo's hand. Anti-malaria drugs were administered while Kalimbo's body writhed in pain and fever. Cold cloths were applied, and the boy's schoolmates watched from an outside window with great apprehension on their faces. This parasitic malady is derived from the bite of a tiny mosquito, and once it attacks, the suffering is severe. All of the children here have had someone in their family, a close friend, or neighbor die, from this malicious disease, and they were praying for Kalimbo. In a couple of hours we'll know the reaction to the medicine. If everything goes well, Kalimbo will be in school tomorrow. If they go badly, we will bury him tomorrow.
As I make my rounds to our various projects, there is a sense that everything is very much under control. The sound of saws cutting our lumber into desks resonates from our workshop, chatter from our workers goes back and forth across the yard, the tractor has just pulled away with a load of freshly made block, and life is good here in the village.
 |
| Old Dzendereni classroom with students |
 |
| View of old Dzendereni classroom and new Crossfit classroom |
 |
| Dzendereni teacher's lounge |
Dallin and Thomas have returned from Mombasa with CrossFit. They are now here for the next 6 weeks finishing the Dzendereni School and water cistern. Thomas is looking at the nutritional side of things there and how to get a garden started for the school, so we'll see what he finds out.
Dinner for me consists of fresh pineapple and mango, so I enjoy each bite as I read the latest download of USA Today. WOW, the Giants against the Patriots in the Super Bowl!! I was disheartened to see the outcome of the Baltimore game, as I would have liked some of my friends on the Ravens get to the big game, and possibly a Super Bowl ring.
It was dark when I strolled to the dispensary to check up on Kalimbo. Sheets were being changed on the bed and a bucket sloshed as Vyani mopped up the room. As I entered he kindly greeted me with a tooth-lacking smile. I inquired about Kalimbo, and Vyani shook his head. I was momentarily shocked until he walked to the doorway, pointed down the road and told me he was taken home. The drugs had worked! I went to Kalimbo's place, a small mud hut with dirt floors and a paraffin candle flickering inside. I called out "hodi," to which several boys responded, "karibu" (welcome). As I entered their musty rented structure, Kalimbo was lying on a grass mat on the ground. He was conscious, but very weary, unable to stand and greet me as he wished. His roommates agreed that this boy was lucky to have had the facility so close, or otherwise he would have never seen another day.
Still no moon. Where has that heavenly body disappeared to?
Roosters! Incessant, noisy, roosters. Since bringing some new blood into the pen I believe these strutting rock stars think the first one to crow has some kind of sovereignty from being placed into one of our pots. Silly fools don't realize that they are our valued progenitors and have full immunity from their previous ancestors. However, If I could find out which one is doing it so early, he just might be the first to lose his exemption.
Emily prepared banana bread, so I filled my glass with chai and retreated to the front porch. The pink and blue uniforms headed to Primary School is like a constant river in the morning. I feel like the greeter at the world's busiest Wal-Mart, shouting back at the children who call out to me. Just down past the gathering tree I see three boys from the Secondary School walking to class. They're a little late, but walking deliberately slow. As they neared I could see it was Kalimbo and his mates. I walked to the road and greeted them, giving each a piece of Mama Emily's world famous banana bread. They were most grateful, as this would now be their breakfast. Kalimbo will go to the dispensary during lunch for another drip bottle, the third and final. I'll meet him there and make sure he has some food. He is weak and achy, but he recognizes the importance of keeping up in school, so he disregards the headache and nausea, meandering slowly to class.
 |
| Top student prize giving ceremony at Miguneni |
Off to Miguneni for the Awards Assembly where Koins recognizes the top students, teachers, and schools of our service area. It was pure pleasure to hand out prizes to our top kids since they receive very little recognition for their efforts. We now have students scoring higher than anyone else in the Kinango District right here in our area, and Kenya Government scholarships have been given to several of our students, allowing them to attend the National High Schools (equivalent to the best Prep Schools in the U.S.). What used to be the Koins benchmark for a scholarship is now below the median score for two of our schools. That is progress.
On my way back to the Koins Center I passed by our Special Needs school. As I rode up the children shrieked and those who are mobile ran to greet me. I have grown to love these special kids and spending time with them brings them such joy that I can't stay away. I plopped Beja onto the seat of the bike and we went to the playground of the Miyani School, chasing the children all over the place. They love the excitement, and Beja feels like a king perched on his motorized throne. Several of the others played some games with me at the SMS porch before I had to leave. They know I'll be back, and they know that I'll bring mayhem with me.
I dropped the bike at the Center and sauntered to the dispensary where I found Kalimbo just ending his third and final I.V. drip. His energy had increased, and his spirits lifted. He smiled widely as I handed him another piece of Mama Emily's banana bread. Kalimbo was going to be just fine, one day after a very real, life-threatening situation.
I visited with some of the mothers waiting to be treated. There seems to be an outbreak of flu right now. I've not seen so many older children lying on the cold concrete, waiting to be seen. Vyani was weighing a baby girl who was really kicking, so I helped place her in the swing which is then hooked to a scale similar to one of those that we use in grocery stores for weighing vegetables. She was 9.1 kilograms, or about 20 lbs. She was a thin baby, but then I discovered that she was three years old. I can't even think of what this means, or the problems that might exist. It grinds at me so deeply that it's better that I leave and get busy doing something else.
I returned to the Center only to be greeted by a large man with one eye and a large, gaping smile. He came to me as I walked up, telling his wife to come quickly and that I was Baba Bret. She shyly shook my hand and returned to her place behind her husband. I recognize the man as I've seen him working in the fields just passed the Mwache Bridge. He was happy that I knew where he lived and began telling me (through Eliud) that he wanted to provide me with a gift of appreciation for everything Koins does in this area. He admitted that he had never done anything before because he had nothing to give. But someone had paid a debt to him, so he brought it to give to me. Koins is now the proud new owner of a brown and white sheep. We'll add this to our flock until he is brought to optimal health and figure out what to do with it next. Mutton anyone?
Finally I could see a sliver of a moon low in the horizon. It is barely visible, but at least I've confirmed that the lunar object is not missing.
 |
| Gathering of students at Dzendereni |
Dallin and I rose early and made our way to Dzendereni. We had an appointment to look at possible dam sites in a nearby creek, not too different from what we just dammed in our central village. We suffered a tire puncture on the way, so we hid the bike in the bushes, piled a bunch of rocks on the road to indicate where we had hidden it, and proceeded on one bike to the village. We walked for over a mile alongside a riverbed which was mostly dry with potholes of water. Millions of years of water and erosion have made the banks steep and perfect for a dam. Capturing the commodity of water before it washes downstream to end up in the Indian Ocean is severely necessary. Once we construct a dam we can proceed with year-round rotational gardens and feeding the kids at Dzendereni. Monumental endeavor!
 |
| We visited with this woman while looking at dam sites. She delighted in the horror her grandson felt at our presence. |
At the Guro Junction I went right towards Miguneni while Dallin continued straight towards Bofu and Gona. We had tried both directions and wanted to see which way was quicker, so we separated. We were to maintain normal speeds to truly indicate the road we should take in the future. I enjoy going to back roads anyway, and heading into Miguneni through the back way allows me to shout at my many friends along the way. Once in Miguneni I turned left, heading towards Mnyenzeni. I remember passing the sign board of the Sean Michel's School, then everything from there went blank. According to the witnesses who were watching me, I was just traveling normally down the road when I hit a hidden hole. I went flying over the top of the bike, landing on my shoulder and head. The bike followed, landing on my back and leg. I was not conscious and bleeding profusely from my head. You can only imagine the panic the onlookers experienced watching their white friend face- planting into the rocky road. They rushed to my aid, calling Antony Yama's cell to notify him. When he heard the news, the story was that Baba Bret was dying on the road. When Yama arrived he found me seated with the bike still on my legs, my video camera on my had (I guess I wanted to film something), and not wanting anyone to help me. I was okay!! With Yama there I settled down and they coaxed me into the car. We immediately headed for Mombasa with Dallin and Eddison coming to our aid, too. An hour or so passed before I regained full consciousness and my memory is somewhat clear.
 |
| Bret's head after stitches. That's gonna leave a scar! |
Upon arrival at the hospital I had been bleeding pretty badly and the mess was pretty big. They cleaned me up, took me into their surgery room and began stitching the holes and gashes in my noggin. We had a few laughs at my expense as Dallin took photos of the mess. The doctors were a little bewildered over the antics of the situation, but soon they too were joining us with humor. A CAT scan revealed no further damage to my head, and a chest x-ray exposed a coronary contusion and probable cracked ribs. I can't remember most of it, but the repairs they could do to my head were completed and a request to have me admitted for observation was denied. I kindly thanked them, but declined their suggestion, as I would have plenty of observers once I returned to the village. I was given pain meds and antibiotics from the pharmacy, and they let me go. Total cost - $300
My ribs and shoulder were sore, but not until we turned from the tarmac road did I fully realize how painful it was going to be. The condition of the road is not dissimilar to the trails we use to access our favorite deer hunting areas. Being tossed inside the car back and forth was almost unbearable. We had to stop so I could get a breath, so the going was slow until we hit the Center. Lying down was impossible, so everyone fixed me a sitting up bed from a mattress placed on one of our porch chairs. It worked well into the night until the hardness of the surface made it too uncomfortable to continue. I tried lying down again in my own bed, which I was able to do. Every hour based on doctor's orders, I had someone coming into the room to check my eyes, make sure I was conscious, and observe that I was doing okay. All I wanted was sleep, but they had promised the doctors. At 5:50 the roosters started crowing.
BVL
