life is beautiful

January 16-17, 2007

A baby died Monday night. He had hydrocephalus in addition to pneumonia, malnutrition, and who knows what else. He had a strong heart, they said, and that’s the only thing that kept him alive for that long. They took him to the morgue and had him embalmed and then his mother had to travel back with the body. Wrapped and in her suitcase. On public transportation. Rebecca, one of the social workers, told me this, and of course I was shocked.
“This is Uganda, Sarah,” she said. “It happens all the time. It’s just life.” I really didn’t know how to react. How could I? It is just a fact of life here, as horrible as that is. The people in the guest house (Jean, Rich, Aubrey, and I) talk about it a lot, how change needs to happen at a governmental level, and it’s so complicated, and how on earth can we help fix things….
Already, I’m used to seeing babies with hydrocephalus. It just doesn’t shock me anymore. And yet I try to imagine my own child suddenly developing a large forehead and then his head ballooning disproportionately and his eyes starting to bulge from the pressure. It just wouldn’t happen! The mothers frequently ask me, “Do you see this in America?” Oh, I wish I could help them, could take them all home with me and provide for all of their families. Or at least adopt a few babies and raise them.
On a brighter note, this week has been really good. Aubrey and I have just been wandering around to the different departments to learn all we can about the facets of the hospital. Normally, we work in OPD (OutPatient Department), where the intakes and general diagnoses happen. Yesterday, however, we went to the x-ray department, and Ronnie explained everything you could ever hope to know about it, and we watched one (behind the lead wall to be safe, of course – don’t worry, Dad).
Today we went to physiotherapy with Joan (they pronounce it Jo-anne, though, so I am constantly calling her the wrong name), and she explained the different conditions that these children usually face – being spastic (having extremely taut muscles – they don’t move much) or floppy (the opposite), having club feet, and slow development in general. She worked with a few children, showing the mothers how to stretch the tiny muscles. Some of them are in so much pain during the physical therapy. I had a hard time watching.
I also talked to Sylvia yesterday about the possibility of putting together a resource booklet for the mothers when they leave CURE. We brainstormed and decided on a general information section (explaining hydro and spina bifida, etc.) as well as different regional sections outlining resources available for their specific districts. I’ve talked to the social workers about it and plan to talk to Joan, the surgeons, the nurses, the spiritual director, and the mothers to see what would be most beneficial for them. I’m really excited about it even though I know it’s going to be so much work. I just wish I knew how to make that work sustainable (the regional information will be outdated in a year).
One thing that is interesting to me is that confidentiality, which is extremely important in the American social work, is virtually nonexistent in this setting. The social workers meet with the mothers with doors opened and discuss clients openly. In the ward, a large whiteboard covers one wall, displaying each patient’s name and any comments (“Failed ETV”). I guess on the part of the mothers, it doesn’t really matter, since most of them are illiterate anyway and can’t read the board. But still, it’s an interesting component. I guess it’s too hard to keep things confidential in this setting, where all the patients are in constant contact and all sleep in the same room.
Things are getting easier. I learned how to count to twenty in Luganda yesterday. (Remembering all these words is a different story!) The compound is beautiful, with the banana plants, lush green grass, palms, flowers….we even picked an avocado today. (I finally got on Rich’s shoulders and unsuccessfully jumping for it! Oh, muzungus are so funny!) I’m starting to remember my way around town and frequently find myself visiting Cissy and Solomon’s (and little Lizzie, whose picture was in the last post!).

Thursday, January 18

Today we got off work a little early to participate in a Beth Moore Bible study with 15 other muzungus (remember, that means “white person”!). I’m so excited about having that fellowship and a time to just be able to be my American self without worrying! J Melissa also lent me a cookbook about cooking American food in Africa. Genius. I’m getting tired of eating just noodles, bread, vegetables, and fruit!
Hmm. I think that’s all I have to say. J

Week of January 8-14

With Breanne (Charles and Melissa's daughter) and Lizzie (Cissy and Solomon's daughter)

What a week! I’m sure that any week beginning a time abroad is one of adventure, mistakes, and culture shock. After packing up from the hotel, Charles picked up Aubrey and we headed out on a four-hour trip to Mbale from Kampala. I couldn’t stop looking at everything and all of the new words plastered to the cement buildings. “Mukwano” (“friendship”) is a common one. As we drove, I asked Charles about everything, from social norms and taboos to the differences in hand gestures, facial expressions, and words. It’s deceiving that they speak English here, because I sometimes forget that I’m still in a culture very different from my own, and I need to be careful to recognize that and hopefully avoid offending anyone. However, I do realize that being a muzungu (white person!) gives me a bit of an allowance to err and learn from it.

It is common to greet someone every day with a handshake and a “hello” (not “hi”!). People usually take the time to stop and ask how you are and I think it is expected that you return the favor. Even on the phone, they hardly ever just say, “Hi, I was calling about….” They always ask how the person is before continuing. They seem more willing to slow down to place more of an emphasis on the people around them.
On Monday, I woke up at 3 a.m. and couldn’t fall back asleep, even though I was hoping to sleep in to get rid of the jet lag. Aubrey and I met with Charles to discuss educational contracts and decide our goals for the semester. I was completely out of it, so after the meeting, I went back to the guest house to lay down.

Later, Jean Kapsner, a visiting nurse from Minnesota, took us to the market to buy fruit and vegetables. It’s a little different than buying perfect carrots in a clear bag at the grocery store! After a trip to the supermarket as well, we struggled down the road with bags in each hand full of pineapples, mangoes, avocados, carrots, potatoes (they call them “Irish” potatoes), and various cheeses and cereals.

Jean gave us an introduction to life at the guesthouse. To have potable water, we must first boil it and then pour it through a filter system (for taste). Washing the dishes involves cleaning with soap and then rinsing in bleach water. We can’t leave anything on the counters, or the ants will almost immediately form a line and come running. We do have hot water and can flush toilet paper; both of these small conveniences are a huge blessing!

After work, we went out to eat Indian food with the Howards, Jean, and Rich, who’s from California and has been working at CURE as an IT/everything guy for the past six months. He’s leaving on Friday to work with Invisible Children in Gulu. The Howards are wonderful and I’m so thankful they’re here and taking care of us. Melissa, Charles’ wife, is actually the sister of Joel Brubaker, a friend from Summer’s Best 2 Weeks. (The world is small!) They have two girls, Elyse (4 years) and Breanne (almost five months).

On Tuesday, we met with Charles again to clarify our goals and discuss our plans. We’ll be at CURE for two months, and then we’ll travel down the road a few miles in March to participate in TASO’s (The AIDS Support Organization) TEACH program for a month. After that, we sat in with the social worker, Miriam, and watched while she did the intakes for the clients. I sat through about four, but only one was conducted in English. There are about 40 languages in Uganda; English and Luganda are the most universal, however. Needless to say, Aubrey and I are working hard on learning Luganda!

It’s interesting to watch the intake, because most of the time the mother is the parent to travel with the sick child (here, we mostly treat hydrocephalus and spina bifida – I’ll write more about that later). Apparently, village women have little say in the household and are often illiterate. Traveling long distances, finding themselves in a strange place, and being told that their baby needs surgery must be very overwhelming. Many of the mothers cry when they are told the problem. We have been told that children with disabilities in the villages are often given names that mean “passing through” or the like. They are expected to be on earth for a short while and then die. Still, some of these mothers really care about their children and anxiously wait while their baby undergoes surgery, but some don’t seem to be very concerned. It’s almost as if they have already given up on the child.

Wednesday was our first real day on the job, since I finally felt that I had moved past the worst of jet lag (which, by the way, is awful!). Rebecca, another social worker, was finally in after a bout of the flu. After sitting with her through a few intakes, we went around to the ward, where the mothers and babies sleep. It smells awful. Think of a team of football players after practice, multiply that a few times, and put them all in a closed room. It’s not anyone’s fault that they don’t have deodorant, and I’m the one that needs to get used to it. It just gives me a headache right now!

There are about 24 beds available. At any given time, there are several babies sleeping on the beds, their poor heads ballooning with hydrocephalus, shining from the stretched skin and veined with large blood vessels. It’s obvious which children have spina bifida because their heads are normal-sized.

Wednesday was a difficult day; I was feeling overwhelmed by the communication disparities, different expectations between Aubrey and me, and a long work day. I went to bed frustrated but recognizing that sometimes things need to be hard so I can appreciate them more and learn in the process.

On Thursday I turned 22, which made me feel old. Oh goodness. But already I was beginning to feel more at home. It’s difficult for me to reach out and touch others with the knowledge that I may get sick or get a rash or something of the like. And I hate that so much. Jesus touched the lepers when no one else would touch them, and these women and babies certainly aren’t lepers! I have been taught my whole life to be extremely careful with germs, etc., and I know I must be wise, but I want to love fully more than being wise. I’m finding a balance, though. I’m careful to wash my hands (and try to be discreet) but also am finding myself more willing (and wanting) to just be with the mothers and babies and love them in any way I can.

It’s been a bit difficult, because Ugandans and Americans communicate so differently. I fear that I’m unintentionally sending the wrong message sometimes. The fact that many of the mothers speak no English is also an extremely large barrier. The English-speaking mothers will translate for us occasionally, but it gets frustrating trying to mime out what I want to say. The “come here” gesture is a bit like waving, and I have had mothers get out of their chairs and walk over when I was just trying to wave! They did not speak English, either, so I tried to mime that they needed to sit down and wait their turn for the lab. Oh, life is so awkward sometimes!
The weekend was wonderful. We met Sam and Emmanuel, two Ugandan medical students volunteering at the hospital, and they took us to the market again as well as Mbale Resort, which was beautiful. We had breakfast at Solomon and Cissy’s, one of the neurosurgeons and his wife, and spent time there with Sam and Emmanuel as well as their four-month-old, Lizzie. I also had the chance to go to Yussef and Nada’s, a Christian Lebanese family, with Melissa, Rich, and Jean. I found myself sitting at the table, looking around at the people I did not know just a week ago and feeling completely at home. I am happy to be here. I know it is not going to be easy, but some parts of it will be. I’m excited to learn all I can.

Ok, so this is not going to be an exciting post, but I keep missing American food. So I was thinking....if anyone feels so inclined to spend a whole lot of money and send me a package somehow, here's a list of things I'd like .... haha
- a football (ok, I can't eat that)
- granola
- Goldfish!
- guitar strings (for CURE - they could use some and they'd make good gifts)
- stickers for the kids
- Lifesavers wintergreen mints :) hahaha I am addicted to those!

Ok, now that I'm writing this, I can't remember what I wanted. Bother. Guess I'll have to post as I remember.

So if you can't send a package, a letter would be just as wonderful!

Sarah Wineland
c/o CURE Hospital of Uganda
P.O. Box 903
Mbale, Uganda


love and miss you all! All is well; I'll write later.

Estoy en Africa!

I can’t believe I’m here … in Africa. I am in Africa! Who would have thought?! I’m sitting in a little café at the hotel where we slept last night. It’s a really nice little resort – there’s a pool, game room, exercise center, two clay tennis courts, I’m using the wireless internet….

I had a breakfast of fruit, tea, and toast. Let me tell you, they really know how to grow pineapples and bananas. I’m so glad to be back in a place with great fruit J. I’ve missed that since Costa Rica! We eat unripe bananas at home – I’m not a fan. But I still don’t like papaya.

I flew out with an American group that is studying at Uganda Christian University through the CCCU’s Uganda Studies Program (I went to the CCCU’s Latin American Studies Program two years ago). They’re a group of 27, and they all seem very nice. It’s too bad that I won’t see much of them, but I’m going to try to visit occasionally. Many of them are from the same colleges as my friends from LASP, so it was fun to realize that I knew some of their friends. My friend from ENC, Greg, is also a part of USP. It was such a relief to have someone I knew as we traveled.

We left on Friday at 5:50 p.m. from Dulles and flew six hours to Amsterdam, had a four hour layover there (I bought Dutch Mentos), and then flew eight hours to Entebbe. Between two time changes, an eight-hour difference, and airplane seats, I didn’t get much sleep. We arrived at Entebbe at 9 p.m. on Saturday (1 p.m. for you all), I said goodbye to the USP students, and Charles Howard (my supervisor for this adventure and director of the hospital) drove to the capital, Kampala, for the night.

I slept for about seven hours last night, but it’s 2:54 a.m. U.S. time right now, which is completely throwing me off. I think I’ll be alright after tonight, though.
I can’t help but notice that Uganda reminds me of Latin America. Obviously, it’s tropical, and I’ve noticed the same flowers the children gave me in Honduras. I don’t want to make overgeneralizations, but so far this similarity has made me feel very much at home. I’m already much more at ease than I was at the beginning of my LASP semester.
Apparently I need to learn Luganda, the second language here. Most people speak English, and it hasn’t been a problem, but I want to learn as much as I can. Oh, and Charlotte, there were Australians eating breakfast next to me this morning. Haha.
Charles is in town right now picking up Aubrey, so I’m here by myself for a bit to relax and get some reading done.

Wow, I am so excited. I can’t believe I actually have this wonderful opportunity to broaden my worldview yet again while pursuing my career. I know that the knowledge will require a lot of me, but I want to learn as much as I can and grow in my Christianity. I want to come back changed, and I know that I will. I can't help looking at myself right now and knowing that I'm going to grow so much, and I'll look back at this and laugh.

Dios les bendiga …