What a Week

            Our return to Kumuli from Kampala was a bit of a challenge. Taxi drivers have gone on strike. This meant that our field team of Makerere students was stranded in Kampala for a few hours until we could find a driver willing to take them north. We also had a staff member stranded after attending a funeral of a family member. Because so many people depend on taxis for transportation, it really brings the country to a stop. Although I was still recovering from food poisoning and we were traveling on rough roads, I didn’t mind the drive too much as it was quicker without the taxis. 

            The strike has been present where we are stationed yet there has only been one day that the town got rowdy. Earlier this week a boda-boda driver hit a little girl and simply drove away. I don’t think the strike and hit-and-run were directly related, but enough people were upset about a variety of things that emotions escalated. When driving back to the compound we heard gunshots and saw many soldiers in the streets. I was concerned, but it’s very normal here and we are safe.

            This was our third week at the schools and it has by far been the most fun. The kids have really warmed up to us and despite they have the same haircut and uniforms, I have even been able to learn some names. I absolutely adore the primary one and two kids. I’m not entirely sure what they do in school as most of the time they are running around and climbing things, but they never cease to make me smile. In addition to the youngest kids, I think I’ve been inducted to a clique of primary four girls. When they are not in class they cling to me, pointing to things and telling me the name in Lusoga and asking me to repeat. Then they laugh.    

            They love having their picture taken. I questioned at first if they wanted to be my friend or just wanted my camera. I only pull it out when I think I can keep them from ripping it out of my hands, but it is so funny to watch them see themselves. I’ve learned that many of these kids don’t have pictures or even mirrors. When you take their picture they become very serious and when you show them the shot, they may not even recognize themselves. When they do, they get very excited and start shouting. I wish I had a way to give them copies although I’m not sure what they’d do with them.

            My project has come a long way since the beginning of this year. Originally I thought I would be coming in trying to add nutritional value to the school lunch but in reality I have spent more time trying to find a way to insure that all students receive a meal everyday. So I have instead focused my efforts on organizing the storage of food to protect losses and harvesting crops from the garden that can be sold to support the feeding program. My team and I have spent the past week harvesting grain amaranth that will be sold in the next few weeks that will be used to buy beans for the nyo-nyo. Typically the school buys these beans as needed throughout the term, yet by buying them in bulk and in season, we are hoping to save them money and make the garden a sustainable solution to the issue of hunger. We’ve received a lot of feedback to improve this idea, yet as the weeks wind down our results are proving very positive.

            In addition to becoming an accountant, I have also become a doctor this trip. Neither one of these things would I be even slightly certified for in the United States, but having a basic knowledge and access to first aid made me a nurse when two boys had some really nasty cuts on their legs. We’ve seen some pretty interesting things here, the worst being a young girl who had a burn on her leg.  Apparently her parents had applied a pesticide to keep bugs out, so when bugs would land on her wound they would just die. For the two boys, I really did nothing more than clean the area, use some hydrogen peroxide and Neosporin, and cover the cuts, but some of the kids now call me doctor.

            Though on Friday, I was the one who needed the doctor. I’ve had a history of fainting for a variety of reasons, yet despite the heat and intensity of the trip I had yet to have any issues. After having food poisoning last weekend I had not been eating much. I could probably put that as the worst experience of my life and it was not something I wanted to repeat. Yet my blood sugar was so low when we were leaving the schools I fainted while sitting watching the kids fill their garden sacks. One of the interns, Dylan, is an EMT and was at the school with us, so I was in pretty good hands. I was not keen on the idea of going to a clinic, but I had little say in the matter.

             Four hours and two sugar-water IVs later I was good to go. I say that before I describe the hospital situation just to remind my mom and family that I am alive and well. ISU, VEDCO, CSRL, and Makerere have a longstanding relationship with a doctor who runs a clinic in town where many students, including American students, have gone in for similar treatments and been fine. I am also not the only person who has been ill on this trip. Many of the Makerere students have gotten malaria, and earlier this week Trisha was taken to Kampala after a fear of her appendix bursting. Dylan had also fainted last time he was in this area. In reality, I shouldn't have been worried.

            Yet I’m also in Uganda. Witch doctors are still considered credible physicians in some areas. I do not want anything medically wrong with me, and I sure as hell don’t want any medically wrong with me here. Because of our relationship with Dr. Wier, I was immediately given a room with a bed, two chairs, and an IV stand. They took my blood sugar, closely monitored by Dylan because I was terrified of unsanitary needles. By this time more staff had arrived and agreed I should take the IVs. I was still very hesitant. When I had first arrived, the doctor took a stethoscope and listened to my heart. A few minutes later he asked, “How’s the heart?” I almost responded, “shouldn’t you tell me?” With help from Dr. Donald from Makerere, I discovered he meant, “Do you have chest pains?”

            Eventually I relaxed enough and made sure that the needle, catheter, and fluids were sealed correctly and not previously used. I lay there for the next three hours to let the fluids drip. Electricity came and went as did other patients stopping in to say hello. A few staff members dropped by to bring mosquito spray and just to send well wishes. My friends who had helped transport me and heard that I was in the hospital called and made sure I was doing all right. By this time I was feeling fine and felt really silly being hooked up to the IV. I’m incredibly grateful I had knowledgeable and familiar faces with me, as being there alone would probably have sent me into a panic. But again, I survived, it wasn’t a big deal, not an experience I would suggest, but I’m alive and well. Just in time too!

            Today we are celebrating Independence Day with everyone in our program. We worked through the Fourth of July, so in the next few hours our Kasubishould be a happening place. The Americans are cooking for the Ugandans today, so low blood sugar will not be a concern for anyone. I’m specifically in charge of s’mores and macaroni and cheese. Finding cheese here has been interesting as many Africans don’t like it, so we’ll see how that goes, but if nothing else we will have burgers, tacos, and apple pie. Some foods many of us have been craving after a diet of rice and potatoes.