I apologize for the very quick update, but I wanted to post something before we leave for Nairobi this morning. We’ll be traveling through the country for the next week, visiting three mission hospitals and at least one school. We don’t know if we’ll have access to internet while we travel. If we do, we will certainly post an update. If not, we will be flying out of Kenya on February 27, returning to Duluth late on February 28.
Thank you so much for your prayers while we travel!
Our trip to Masai Mara included more than seeing the animals, which would have been enough in my book. We had no idea what to expect after the two-hour drive to the lodge. The reservations were made for us by a friend who works at the hospital, so all we knew was the name of the place we’d be staying. We packed for a stay in what we imagined would be a large canvass tent, which meant we brought bug spray and sunscreen and a huge jug of clean drinking water along with our clothes and such. As it turned out, the lodge was not at all what we had imagined. We were in for a treat.
As our driver took us through the front gate, this group of Maasai men greeted us, singing traditional Masaai songs.
They took each of us by the hand and led us down a long path to the lodge, singing and dancing the entire way.
I don’t know a lot about Maasai traditions yet, but I do know that men jumping like this is something they often do. They each stepped forward and did it, and then they invited Pete to do it. (One of them had taken our camera and was snapping these photos.)
Ella liked the dancing but wasn’t quite sure what to think of the men. After this photo was taken, she quickly warmed up to them. She really liked their necklaces and jewelry. So did I.
Soon after being led to the lodge, we were introduced to our butler Walter (what?? a butler?!). Walter is a father to a little girl about Ella’s age. He became quick friends with both Ella and Sam. He took care of everything for us, including planning and serving our meals, bringing us tea and coffee in the morning, arranging our safari drives, and just sitting and talking with us because we asked him to.
Walter told Ella to find tent number 3, so she set off as our leader.
We found “tent” number 3. I suppose since some of the sides were made of canvass, it could appropriately be called a tent, but this isn’t even close to what I had in mind.
Our place was completely open to the river in front of us, which only made me slightly nervous when Ella got close to the edge of the deck. There was a small grass landing before the drop-off to the river, but I still didn’t let her get close.
What did we find in the river below? Lots and lots of hippos.
I had never been in a tent that also had a bathroom, especially one like this.
And that had a tub and shower that were open to the outside.
At night Walter unrolled the canvasses along the front to keep the bugs out.
This was the view of the river just up from our tent at the lodge. At the time I took this photo, we counted 34 hippos. Hippos come to the surface quite often and then sink back down to stay cool, and they are quite loud. They grunt and snort all day and all night. Did you know that hippos leave the water at night? They find places along the river banks that allow them to walk onto the land with their short legs. (They did not have access to the area where we were staying.) I was amazed to learn that they are very, very fast on land. I just can’t imagine that with how short they are, but it’s true. Hippos are fast and deadly if you get in their way. In fact, hippos kill the most people of any animal in Africa. I once asked a doctor here if they have many people come from hippo attacks, and he said no, they don’t injure people, they kill. That was news to me! I did see one hippo walking on land during my early morning safari drive, but by the time the sun is coming up, most have returned to the water.
We enjoyed watching the hippos from our deck.
Pete and Ella even spotted this enormous crocodile. I saw one that was much smaller.
For dinner, we ate at the lodge. They closed the sides and had beautiful lighting. There was another physician from Tenwek who traveled out with us and offered to stay at our place Friday night so Pete and I could have a date over dinner. How thoughtful! We enjoyed every bite of our five-course meal from chef Wellington.
Pete and I woke early on Saturday morning in the hopes of going on a chilly safari drive together while Walter had breakfast with Ella and Sam at the lodge. We soon realized, though, that Sammy had a bit of a cold. Pete wanted to keep an eye on him, and graciously sent me on my own for the drive. I was given one instruction: take lots of pictures. And I did. I wrapped myself in a blanket in my seat of the open Land Cruiser and watched the morning sun peak over the distant hills.
Yes, I did take a self portrait. I know it’s sometimes odd, but I mostly take pictures of the rest of the family and wanted something of myself on the drive. So, here I am.
The early morning brought out all kids of grazing animals. They were able to munch in the safety of the daylight, away from the lions and leopards. These baby wildebeests were leaping here and there around their mothers. Leng, our guide, pointed out that one had clearly been born during the night.
This adorable baby zebra wasn’t far from his mama.
After watching animal babies and the gorgeous morning sunrise, I wasn’t quite prepared for the complete ugliness that is the hyena.
Yes, we did encounter a few hyenas who had clearly made recent kills. Yuck. I had always thought they were primarily scavengers, but I learned otherwise from Leng. He told us that they mostly kill their own food, but it’s not a pretty sight. Let’s just say they don’t exactly wait until their prey has stopped moving before indulging. And their laugh? That’s what calls the other hyenas to a meal. If they don’t share, the other hyenas will kill them. Friendly. Ok, let’s move on.
Another animal baby! This is a little jackal. See those fuzzy little ears on the other side of the mound? That’s his mama.
Way off in the distance near the trees, we spotted a baboon.
On our way back to the lodge, we encountered this little family of warthogs. Leng kept calling them Pumbas, like the little guy from The Lion King. We had already seen quite a few, but they hadn’t been in a group like this. They were pretty cute.
When I got back, I joined Pete, Ella, and Sam on the deck of the lodge for breakfast. We watched the hippos and relaxed in the sunshine. I kept whispering in my head to remember all the feelings and the moments of our weekend. It was something I had dreamed of for so long and this was far beyond what I had imagined. Being there with my loves was perfect.
I learned years ago that I married a man who loves to surprise me with things I deeply enjoy. The first gift like this he ever gave me was a Ghirardelli dark chocolate raspberry bar from Barnes and Noble while I was studying for finals my last semester of undergrad classes. We weren’t even dating yet. I don’t feel like I ever expect such things from him, so I am truly surprised when he does something for me. After breakfast was just such a time. He gave me a kiss and sent me off to this little tent.
Inside, I was treated to hours of spa loveliness. It began with a pedicure. Not just any pedicure. This was the most in-depth pedicure I had ever had. Next I had a full-body exfoliation treatment, which was a first for me. That was followed by a 90-minute massage overlooking the river with the hippos. To wrap things up, I had a manicure. I was in heaven.
Do I look like I was glowing? I felt like I was glowing. I love my Pete. I know it seems easy to say after he gives me a gift like that, but I really, really do. He treats me so well. And I don’t take that for granted.
As I returned from the spa, I found my lovelies sitting outside for a late lunch before we left.
Mr Sammy man was enjoying a bowl of mango yogurt with Daddy.
And with that, we parted from the Masai Mara. We have big plans for our next visit. One, if we return to this lodge it will be without the little ones. It’s a perfect place for a romantic getaway. Two, we’ll take the walking safari tour to a nearby Massai village and rhinoceros sanctuary. And three, we’ll spend time at the outdoor pool and play a game of croquet.
Before arriving in Kenya, if we ever asked Ella what she was going to see in Africa, she would happily reply, “Elephants, zebras, lions.” Well, my dear Ella, you were absolutely right. This past weekend, we had the grand opportunity to travel to Masai Mara, a game park in southern Kenya, where we embarked on our very first safari. I’m quite sure it won’t be the last. That makes me happy.
Today’s photos were taken during our first game drive while staying at the beautiful Ngerende Island Lodge. Shortly after our arrival Friday afternoon, all four of us climbed into a huge, open-sided Land Cruiser with our Masai driver, Leng. Leng drove us for nearly three hours in search of creatures big and small.
The first was big. Giraffes average a height of 17 feet. This beauty was in a group of four, but we saw many during our drives. They are incredible to watch, moving with such grace dispite their size.
Leng had incredible vision for seeing wildlife long before we did and would drive us right up next to animals. Apparently, the animals saw our vehicle as one big beast, not as individual people inside, and didn’t mind having us near. It was incredible.
There were roads in a few places, but we mostly stayed off them, driving as close to the tree line as possible. Whether on roads or not, the driving was intense. We splashed through small rivers and mud, climbed over steep hills, and squeezed between leafy trees. Ella loved it.
From far in the distance, we saw trees shake and approached in hopes of finding something moving amidst them. Indeed, we did. She was near a small river. As we sat watching her, we discovered two more in the trees behind her.
Ella was thrilled. She loves elephants. She often says to me, “Elephant, just like Ella. Ella Elephant. They’re the same, Mommy.” I adore this photo. She was giddy.
Leng took us to a spot where we could drive through the river and wrap around behind the place we had seen the elephants. After squeezing through trees that I was sure we wouldn’t get through, we found this beauty.
Soon, more arrived.
There were eight elephants in all. Each came up over a small hill into view, cautiously looked at us as they got closer, and quickly skirted past into the trees. I think our ginormous Land Cruiser made them nervous.
We continued to drive, scanning the ground beneath the trees for any signs of lions. They nap during the day, within the safety of the trees, and go into the open spaces in the evening to hunt. Somehow, we found these two sleepy lionesses.
We parked right next to them. I mean, right next to them. Seven or eight feet. They didn’t seem to mind in the least.
After they wandered toward the plain, we headed out for more discoveries. Eventually, we found the lionesses again! Ella was thrilled.
While we were stopped near the lionesses, I looked out into the long grass on the plain and saw a lion’s head peeking our way. When I looked back, though, he was gone. We were told that’s how they hide to catch prey. Leng had caught sight of the big guy and drove us straight out to him.
He sat up but paid very little attention to us, even though we were sitting two feet from him.
No joke. Two feet. You can see our shadow.
He eventually grew tired of our presence and wandered off. He was truly beautiful.
As he walked away, we noticed a rainbow far in the distance. Rainbows will always remind me of God’s promises. How wonderful to see one across the African plain, the very place that we feel God has called us. His promises are good.
What a first day we had! I have many more photos, but it’s getting late and I must be off to bed. Please come back for more of our Masai Mara adventure in the next day or two. We love sharing our adventures with you!
I had hoped to post this before the weekend began but didn’t quite get to finish it. I was busy packing so that the four of us could head south for a safari! The weekend was incredible. I’m currently working on editing photos and will have them posted as soon as possible. This week is going to be full of photo posts, so be sure to check the blog often!
Sammy was awfully excited to be on safari!
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Last Saturday, Pete & I were able to get away together for the afternoon. It was lovely. Ella & Sam stayed with our neighbors and a friend called a taxi for us. Out here, it’s best to stick with people you already know and trust. And we’ve been advised it’s not a good idea for us to take public transportation. We don’t take lightly the advice given to us by those who have lived here a long time.
Our hot date began after we dropped Ella & Sam off and headed up the road to meet our driver, Sammy. Sammy met us near the hospital in a little white car designated as a taxi. As you can see, the seats were red and green and there was silver tinsel hanging from the ceiling. This was actually very nicely decorated compared to other small-country taxis I’ve been in. Nice job, Sammy.
Sammy dropped us of in town (about a 10 minute drive from the hospital) at one of the grocery stores. We were hungry, but first, we needed money.
We walked down a few streets looking for a bank and eventually found an ATM. No luck. Electronics aren’t all that reliable out here, so we went searching for another. There are only two locations in town with ATMs, so after the second one also wouldn’t work, we ended up swapping US cash for Kenyan shillings. My favorite part about that exchange was when our teller asked how Mr. Obama is doing. I could tell from their smiles that they are proud he has a bit of Kenya in him.
We had been told to only eat packaged food in town (our systems are not used to the food/water here). We wandered through this entire grocery store, looking at all of the interesting things for sale. The grocery stores out here are quite small. The isles are tight and, wherever there is space, more things for sale are stacked up on the floor.
I saw this pot in multiple stores. It was definitely calling my name, but we decided this little guy will have to wait to join our kitchen family in the future. If it’s still around, we’ll get it next time we’re here.
Is it any wonder I found chocolate? I hadn’t had any in a while, so once we finished at the grocery store, we sat right out front and shared these lovelies.
Motorcycles are everywhere in Kenya. It’s the cheapest form of transportation, so they are used as taxis. Although the law permits them to only carry one passenger, we often see them with three or four, including babies.
I don’t remember the names of these, but it was something sweet and tasted a bit like the old Corn Pops cereal. Pete was a fan. I stuck to my chocolate cookies.
I haven’t figured out what hotels here consist of, but we see them everywhere.
We found a bike shop, so of course we had to swing in. We talked to the guy at the shop for a bit before taking photos with the bikes. I don’t think we’ll ever have motorcycles here. A bit too dangerous for our taste.
At one point while we were walking up the street, we heard a helicopter not far overhead. As it got closer, a crowd of people, cars, and motorcycles started rushing past us. When we turned around, we could see that the helicopter had landed and swarms of people were gathering in the field around it. We were curious about the commotion, but we didn’t want to get any closer since we already stand out and don’t need to put ourselves in sketchy spots. Elections are in less than a month, and we realized this was a politician coming in to give a speech.
A typical shop in town.
Another common sight is for people to sit in front of shops working on sewing machines. There were a couple of men sewing in front of the Family Fashion Centre.
We eventually crossed the main road through town to check out shops and stands on the other side. All the walkways on that side were dirt.
We went into one shop to look at dresses for Ella. These dresses are often worn by our neighbor girls on Sundays for church. They are colorful, with very simple stitching and no hems. We bought one for Ella (an adorable yellow version) but we haven’t given it to her yet. I’ll be sure to post a photo of her when we do. She’s going to be excited!
I think these were cooking oil containers, but I think they may be used for water. I’ve seen them carried by many women.
This photo was taken next to the bigger grocery store on the edge of town. Everything in incredibly green here.
And finally, this was taken right next to the photo above from the second floor of the building where the grocery store is located.
One place we did not get to visit in Bomet is the teacher training school. I’m hoping to go with a friend, as training teachers is something I’m very interested in. That’s one of the reasons I’m currently working on my Master’s of Education. On another note, sorry about the quality of the photos. It was cloudy while we were in town and I only took the pictures with my iPhone. That was the most discreet way of capturing them. I didn’t want to pull out my big ol’ Cannon. We stood out enough already.
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One thing I discovered in the last week is that rain water is great for hair. I had been washing my hair with the water coming from the faucet during showers, but my hair was getting nasty. Really nasty. It was so bad that I couldn’t even brush it. Then one of the other missionaries told me to try rain water. It was amazing! My hair is soft again. Soft hair is just one of those little joys that I usually take for granted.
I took Ella up with me to get the rain water. It is stored in a huge barrel that collects the water from the top of our building.
The bottom of the barrel has a spigot. I filled up one of our bottles and warmed it in a couple pots on the stove. It wasn’t as tricky to use as I thought it would be.
Of course Ella had to do a little dancing next to the garden while I filled the bottle. I love that about my girlie.
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It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon here. Ella is playing soccer with the other kids outside. Sam is sleeping, and Pete is reading. As soon as I post this, I’m going to do more photo editing so I can get our safari pictures up soon. I hope you’re able to have a day of rest, as well.
Today’s post is the first time that Pete, my husband, has ever written on the blog. His story is moving as he describes what he experienced while working in the Kenyan hospital today where we are currently living.
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I’ve been wondering for months, maybe even years, what my first delivery would be like after we arrived in Africa. Would it be a vaginal delivery? A cesarean section? Would instruments be available? What about assistants? Would I even be in a hospital? You see, I’m used to the very best.
As a 3rd year resident at the Duluth Family Medicine Residency Program, most of the vaginal deliveries I’ve participated in are attended by two or more physicians—an attending, a resident and sometimes even an intern. By the time the patient is ready to give birth, she and the baby have been carefully monitored for hours. We have a good idea of what to expect, and we have everything we need in case something doesn’t happen the way it should.
For those vaginal deliveries that take an unexpected turn, we can change over for a cesarean section in about 10 minutes. By the time we arrive in the pristine operating room with the patient, an array of sterilized, neatly wrapped surgical tools is waiting for us, along with a team of trained surgical technicians who will later hand them to us when requested (often even before–they know each surgery so well!). An anesthesia team is there to provide pain control and to intubate and breathe for a patient in case of a “crash section” (emergency surgery to save mom and/or baby). The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit has a resuscitation team and an incubator ready in addition to all the tubes, lines and cords needed for the most serious of resuscitations. Oh…and our awesome obstetric nurses are there, too.
I could go on, of course. But we’re not there. We’re in Africa. And it’s different here.
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It didn’t start the way I expected it would. I was paged to Casualty (the emergency department) to attend to an 18-year-old who was pregnant with her first child. She hadn’t reported any contractions or vaginal bleeding. I didn’t even have time to ask her if she felt her baby moving.
There wasn’t time for questions. When I arrived in the small room crowded with eight beds and even more patients standing or sitting as they waited for care, the clinical officer (CO, similar to a physician’s assistant) looked at me with panic. He pulled back a curtain to reveal a flurry of activity: The young woman was lying on a bed. A nurse was hurrying to start an IV while humming a hymn. Another nurse had just arrived with an oxygen mask, freshly washed and ready for reuse.
The CO rapidly explained that two girls had dropped the patient off at the door; they couldn’t be found. I felt the young woman’s pedal pulse. It was weak and thready. I glanced up at her face. She looked slightly ashen, and was gasping for air. Her uterus was at or below her belly button, meaning that the baby was either small or at about 20 weeks gestation or less. (A nurse confirmed she was 20 weeks pregnant shortly thereafter.)
Don’t forget the ABCs, I told myself. Airway, Breathing and Circulation. She has a pulse, and she’s breathing (albeit with difficulty), but she’s losing her airway. As I moved to the head of the bed, a dark, liquid began spilling from the patient’s nose and mouth. We suctioned, intubated and started breathing for her. Then we placed a nasogastric tube and suctioned another 200 mL or so of the black substance from her stomach. We still don’t know what it was.
By now the cardiac monitor was on and the patient’s heart rate was in the 130s. One of the nurses looked up and told us the initial blood pressure was 70/50 mmHg, but now she couldn’t get one. I felt the patient’s neck for a carotid pulse; there was none. “Start CPR,” I said.
With the chest compressions we heard intermittent cracks (ribs breaking from the pressure). At two minutes, we checked for a pulse and gave epinephrine to shunt blood back to the heart and encourage cardiac activity. We kept doing CPR and giving her epinephrine every three minutes, checking for a pulse each time. After 40 minutes without a pulse, I called it. “Time of death: 10:24 a.m.,” I said softly.
I helped the nurses clean the patient, remove the lines and apply fresh linens. Then I prepared for the hard part—talking with the family.
I had a room prepared so I could tell them that the mother and her baby had died. They were inconsolable, of course. I spent a few moments with them before I left them with the chaplain and returned to the emergency department where another patient needed care.
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Two days later, the family returned with one request: to have the opportunity to bury the mother and baby separately. I spoke with my supervising physicians who agreed this was reasonable.
I led the family to the morgue and had them wait in the office. It was time for my first delivery in Africa, a postmortem cesarean section.
She laid draped in a perfect white sheet on a rusty, steel table. Even though the mother was dead, I used a surgical technique very similar to the one my attendings in Duluth had trained me to do. As I cut, the smell of formalin filled my nostrils. A moment later, I delivered a beautiful, tiny, lifeless little girl. I carefully closed the mother’s tissues, using a subcuticular stitch to close the skin. It wasn’t necessary, but it felt right.
I draped the mother again and then carefully attended to her little girl, who was only slightly larger than my hand. I washed her gently and placed her in a new swaddling blanket, her arms gently folded.
One of the morgue attendants went to get the father and the rest of the family. They arrived, not knowing what to expect, but when dad saw me holding his baby girl, his eyes started tearing. I asked if she had a name. “Fancy…Fancy is her name,” he said, barely audible. “Well, Fancy is a beautiful little girl,” I said, handing the swaddled baby to dad. “I’m sorry that her time with us was so short, but I believe that she is now with Jesus where there is no pain and no suffering…where we’ll all be together again.”
I began to pray, my two fingers on the side of Fancy’s head as we invited God to be with us and bring His peace. Everyone, now in tears, slowly filed out of the room. Dad stayed a moment, took one last look at Fancy, handed her to me, and said, “Asanti” (thank you).
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The rain refreshed us as we walked from the morgue back to the hospital where we parted ways. It was early evening, and I was done for the day. I loosened my tie and draped my white coat over my arm to the let the rain gently wash over me on the way home.
I was greeted by a beautiful little girl who came dashing up to me yelling, “Daddy, Daddy, I have an umbrella for you.” I scooped Ella into my arms and kissed her. I walked toward apartment No. 7 and let my eyes meet Angela’s. She knew instantly. She simply has a way of knowing that no one else does. I kissed and snuggled Sam, our son, before she quickly swept both children into their bedrooms for the night. I let the warm shower wash off the formalin, then I dressed and sat on the living room couch, reflecting on what had happened.
Yes, this young woman losing her life and her baby was tragic. But in the end, I’ve never been able to stop someone from dying. Hester Lynch Piozzi, an 18th century British author, once said, “A physician can sometimes parry the scythe of death, but has no power over the sand in the hourglass.” It’s true.
But I’ve also learned that one of the most compassionate acts we can do for one another is to relieve suffering and pain—to make room for healing. And tonight, when one dad looked back at another, there was a silent understanding that healing had begun, and then a quiet “Asanti.”
Sunday was another day that was spent together as a family. Pete was on call at the hospital all weekend, but he only had to actually go in Saturday and Sunday mornings to round on his patients. That took a few hours, but he was home by lunch. In the later afternoon, we took advantage of the perfect weather (wait, every day is perfect weather…75ish and cool in the shade) and went on a journey to the river. We hadn’t yet been to the river, but we had seen it from the backyard of a friend’s house. We filled our Nalgenes, grabbed our hats, and headed out to explore.
No matter where we are, Pete draws elementary/junior high boys. This group walked with us from our house to the road by the river before parting ways. Shortly after, a new group joined.
Honestly, I was a little annoyed at first. I had wanted to go on a walk with only my family. Just the four of us, wandering down to the river, hearing the rush of the water as it moved by the dam. I especially didn’t want to share Pete with anyone. I feel like I share him all week with medicine and the people who need his knowledge and deeply caring spirit. I wanted it to be my turn. Yes, I get him when he comes home in the evening, but we don’t usually have time to go anywhere since it gets dark by 7ish. And then I put my own feelings aside for just a second and realized these boys might not have anyone like my Pete. In the end, they did join us for our stroll. And I was glad they did.
Ella makes friends wherever we are. She has absolutely zero fear. I do keep a close eye on her here because of that, just as I do in the States.
These cuties took us to the river.
At last we made it to the river. It’s not that it’s a long walk. It isn’t. We just took our sweet time, soaking the in the presence of our new friends.
We could hear the dam from a good distance away. The rushing water cascaded further down the riverbed, ending in a peaceful calm a few hundred yards away.
This is one of that banks of the river. Thick and green.
Here is the other side. We met small groups of people coming across the bridge to go up the path. Probably heading home. I think the path leads up to a small village. I’ve seen the village from our friend’s backyard. It sits between the river and a dirt road. Rumor has it (well, rumor to me, anyway. it’s probably true) that there is a market there on Wednesdays. I’m hoping to make it there with another physician’s wife to look at jewelry.
I was captured by the beauty of these soft, purple flowers over this metal roof.
Hello, cows standing behind Pete. Doesn’t Pete look like he belongs in Africa with that hat? I think it’s great. We each got a new hat before leaving Duluth. I’ll eventually get photos of each of us in our hats. And you can see that we brought our big stroller. We haven’t used it a ton, but it is nice to have on occasion. And it was great in the airports. I mostly carry Sam in our baby sling or Ergo carrier.
This group of girls followed us from the river to our house. They wanted me to take lots of pictures of them, trying to be super cool in every shot. Can’t you tell?
Look at Sammy. They were all focused on getting their photo with him, but all he wanted was his giraffe. Girls swarm to him, begging to hold him and check out his toys. The thing here, though, is that they don’t often ask to hold him. They will simply walk up to me and try to take him from my arms. I’m not a crazy mama bear, but I am pretty protective of my boy. I tend to only let those I already know hold him. Strapped in his stroller, he’s fairly protected.
The walk concluded on our front porch with glasses of water all around. That always seems like a treat. Ice, too. Pete’s friends, the group who came to play tag last Sunday and were back immediately after church this Sunday, ready for Pete to play again, often come by for ice. They love it. And I love sharing it. Ella does too. I let her hold the bowl of frozen cubes for the boys and she says, “There you go, friends! Have ice! It’s cold.” We’re incredibly fortunate to have such great, new friends here. Two months isn’t a long time, but I’m glad it’s long enough to share life with some pretty amazing people, young and old.
