I have just returned to Uganda from an exciting and extremely busy two weeks in Kenya. I apologize for the lack of posts during my time there, but unfortunately I was without internet access during my stay. Therefore, forgive the length of this post, as there is much to write. So, I arrived in Mombasa (on the coast of the Indian Ocean) on the eve of the first of July. I had attempted to speak with Sr. Gen (my contact in Voi), but the connections were unclear each time I attempted to reach her, thus I had no idea what to expect when I arrived particularly in regard to whether or not someone would be there to pick me up and where I was to be staying. After an interesting journey of missing the connection for my second flight (adding another seven hours to my travel) and the airline losing my luggage, I was greeted by the Sisters of St. Joseph at the gates to the city. Needless to say, I was beyond grateful to have a place to stay after thinking I was just going to wing it when I got to the city, a lone muzungu roaming unfamiliar streets at night, great idea.
Anyway, I stayed two nights in Mombasa, a beautiful city on the coast, and met far too many nuns to name, all of which own a wonderful wit and contagious sense of humor. Here, I prepared for my trip to Voi, where I would be doing the filming for this leg of the trip. And after a peaceful and humorous stay, I made the journey to Voi (about 350 km West of Mombasa on the road to Nairobi - the capitol of Kenya). Voi sits in the valley of the Taita Hills, a Mountain range that springs up out of the sprawling, impressive, but desolate plains of central Kenya. Upon my arrival, I was greeted with by the Sisters at the St. Joseph Shelter of Hope (SJSH). As a norm, the women keep offering to carry my bags for me, and I keep denying, which then results in them wrestling the luggage out of my grip and doing it anyway. The women are strong.
After an exploration of the city of Voi with Karl Kameru, a friend and the technical coordinator of SJSH, I hit the ground running with the story of the Shelter. Now, I imagined that most of the work would be done at their clinical facility on the compound, which would make sense in my understanding of a clinic. I was wrong. SJSH is a home-based care clinic, meaning they take the care to the patients. Again, I didn't really realize what this meant until I got in the 4 wheel drive enabled truck early Monday morning and we started scaling the sides of the mountains, climbing up ever increasingly dangerous roads (which should be termed "paths" or "death traps" instead of "roads") to the destination of the day. Over an hour later, we arrived at the location for the mobile clinic. This first day's site was situated on top of one of the Taita Mountains. Such a number of patients had shown for the clinic day that there was not enough room, thus they were content to sit in the grass outside and wait. Most are AIDS patients needing evaluation, medication and support. Some are weakened even to the point of being unable to walk. And since none of the people own vehicles, the patient is usually transported in a wheelbarrow - a very sad sight.
SJSH provides mandatory educational presentations prior to the beginning of treatment - a very valuable tool in decreasing the stigma in the AIDS community. It raises awareness about the disease and quells rumors about false treatment. Support groups are required as well for the afflicted, a proven aid for mental well-being during treatment, as companionship is as important as medication when dealing with a chronic illness. The nurses, clinical professionals, pharmacists, etc., remain at the clinic until the demand is met. They do not leave just because five o'clock strikes. Their work is to provide health care to those that need it, so they remain until the job is finished.
Each day, the SJSH staff commutes to these rural communities in all directions, working in some of the most improvised facilities imaginable. One of which was literally the container of a semi-trailer, divided in half by a sheet hung on rope to establish an examination "room" and a place for the taking of vitals. The lab and pharmacy are then relegated to tin shacks that look like slightly enlarged dog houses. The nurses also make home visits to check up on the patients, walking through the villages to make sure their patients are surviving and have their medications. I cannot imagine how taxing it would be to do this work on a daily basis, knowing that I was exhausted after just one day, and beyond exhausted by the end of the week. Yet they do, and they do it with a strong dedication and care unrivaled by most. The people need the care, and they provide it. That is the end of it.
Due to the efforts of SJSH in establishing care and support groups, there is an undeniable sense of hope in the AIDS patients. One would think that dealing with a chronic disease of this caliber would create a defeatist attitude, causing the patient to descend into depression. However, each person I spoke with was rich in spirit and faith. One patient support group in particular has begun doing outreach education on their own, utilizing the arts of dance, song and poetry to raise awareness about AIDS. They see it as their duty to help stop the spread of the virus and the spread of the stigma attached to it. The hope in the room is undeniable. They believe we can beat this. That we can stop the spread, that we can find a cure, that, even when afflicted, we can live a rich life. They have Hope. Well, I think it's obvious that the St. Joseph Shelter of Hope is appropriately named.
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