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Kenya Day 2: Return to Simon’s farm

Laurie Kelley August 4, 2011

Nobody walks with another man’s gait. —Kenyan proverb

Tuesday, August 2, was Day 2 of our African odyssey. We were up early to have breakfast in the outdoor dining area of the Southern Sun Hotel. It was very cool, and we ate poolside and had a wonderful breakfast of hot tea, eggs, rolls and fresh fruit. Julie, Kara, Jeff and I reviewed our plans for the day, which involved driving to Nyahururu, over four hours, to see Simon, a hemophilia patient. Despite some jet lag, everyone was excited to have this adventure.

Maureen Miruka drove up around 8, along with a van, and several members of the Jose Memorial Hemophila Society—Paul Kamua, secretary at the society, Adam, and Isaac, all of whom have hemophilia. The biggest problem in Nairobi is traffic, which held us up for almost two hours. We finally broke free and hit the highway, unexpectedly spotting a lovely little herd of zebras alongside the road. The highway was deteriorating and very bumpy. We were jostled around for four and a half hours, until we finally came to Nyahururu. Along the way we passed lush countryside, and had a brief pause at the famed Rift Valley! Everyone admired the beautiful Masai blankets, did a little souvenir shopping and haggling before climbing back in.

Once in Nyahururu, we sought out Simon’s home. I had been here just last year to see Simon, and was really struck with how isolated he was. We climbed the rich red soil road, twisting and turning around every bend, rocks churning under our tires, until we reached his farm on top of a hill.

His farm gives a spectacular view of Kenya, and the sun was shining brilliantly. We piled out, and stumbled our way up the path through his farm. Scampering about were three yellow dogs: a mother and her two pups. One of the pups I easily recognized from last year. Now grown, he remained as friendly as he was last year, though his brother was completely untrusting. Chickens clucked about, and the family gathered around to welcome us.

Simon has a cell phone and texts me now and then, but aside from a cell phone, there wasn’t a single luxury. No electricity, no plumbing. We all used the outhouse, which was actually the cleanest outhouse I have ever used, and I have used many. There is something to be said for simple, optioned-style rural living. I imagine the stars are spectacular from his farm. Still, there is no doubt: Simon lives in total rural poverty.

As we sat down to a homemade lunch of fresh-killed chicken and nutritious mokina, a national dish made of pumpkin leaves, we all asked Simon questions about his knees, health and treatment of hemophilia. His knee remains completely unstable from the deterioration of the joint. Simon is one of the few in Kenya who knows how and is allowed to self-infuse. This is great, because it means he can infuse immediately when he has a bleed, which will spare him much pain and crippling.

As we ate, I looked about his interior: sheet metal roofing (very noisy when it rains), and two-by-fours covered with—get this—stapled cardboard. Very crude, very poor. Yet we ate delicious, fresh food that could have been served in any restaurant!

After lunch came a mug of steaming hot tea. Then a trip up the hill to the outdoor “mountain spring water” which pipes down to an outdoor pump. We can imagine that this is what our American ancestors had to deal with two hundred years ago!

Simon has been asking for a micro-loan so he can start a business, and our Kilimanjaro mountain climb can definitely help him accomplish this. I am really hoping to write within the year to let you all (or “y’all,” as Jeff likes to say) know that Simon got his micro loan and his business is underway. I’m counting on it, and it’s part of what motivates me to climb!

After a lovely afternoon with Simon, his brothers Richard and John, we gathered ourselves together and hit the road. Another 4.5 hours back to Nairobi and we were exhausted. Whenever we thought we were tired or sore, we all thought of Simon, what it must feel like to travel all this way to Nairobi for treatment, when you are also enduring a horrible bleed. It seems inconceivable, and made us silence any complaints. Simon, limping, in pain, still wants to start a business and do something with his life. For a brief time, Simon allowed us that rare opportunity to walk in another man’s shoes. Now we know what he needs—a micro loan—and now we can pool resources to make this happen.

Kenya Day 1: At the Harvest

Laurie Kelley August 2, 2011

At the harvest, you know how good the millet is. Kenyan proverb

I have been traveling to developing countries for 15 years and usually travel alone. When I reach my destination, my hosts become my companions for the duration. This trip is quite different: I have my daughter with me, and three other Americans I hardly know. Sometimes you worry about how newbies will act when confronted with extreme poverty, pain and all the inconveniences of the developing world. I didn’t have to worry. We’ve only spent two solid days together, but it’s clear we have bonded and are excited about helping Kenya, learning from its people, and the upcoming Kilimanjaro climb.

The only bad news is that Eric Hill and son Alex are stuck in Switzerland, when they should have arrived tonight! And worse, Eric’s climbing gear is missing!

But our trip has been uneventful as far as bad luck goes, and eventful as far as mission goes. We arrived Sunday after a 12-hour delay in Paris. Kara, 20, a medical student, and Jeff Salantai, who has hemophilia and also works for BioRx, had already arrived on Saturday.

We met Sunday afternoon with Maureen Miruka, president and founder of the Jose Memorial Hemophilia Society-Kenya, and her colleague Kehio Chege, who has a son with hemophilia. We mapped out the coming week in detail. Lots of patient visits, a TV spot, a meeting at the health ministry, and a meeting at the MP Shah Hospital.

So I’m back in Kenya, a country I have grown to love, for my fourth visit. It is lush, green, rich with red soil, and bustling with people. The Kenyans are soft-spoken and polite as a whole. With a population of about 41 million, there are an estimated 3,000-4,000 people with hemophilia. But only about 400-500 people have been identified. The country purchases no factor, and remains dependent on donations from the WFH and Project SHARE. Our goal is to visit the Save One Life beneficiaries, while introducing Jeff, Kara, Julie, Eric, and Alex to Kenya, Africa and the needs of those with hemophilia.

On Monday we were up early in the surprisingly chilly weather, and headed out to visit patients around Nairobi. We battled the traffic (called “jams”) for 90 minutes, just to go a few miles! First stop was in a very deteriorated project, with trash piles and low-lying laundry wires. Jacob is a 30-year-old with hemophilia A, who is very crippled. We all crammed into his sister’s small home, and learned a little about his life. It’s hard sometimes to hear of patients’ stories of suffering and pain, when they have not had access to factor. Jacob has a small business, selling used shoes by the side of the road. He hasn’t been able to work lately due to the numerous bleeds in his leg. He earned about $80 a month.

He wants to set up a new business, “tent making.” We learned what he meant is a tent-rental business. But to do this, he needs capital to get started. Well, Maureen and I have already discussed setting up a micro loan program for the adults and young men. Rather than just give them money, which is tempting to squander, the micro loan will ensure they will pay back the loan by working through a bank. Part of the proceeds of the Kilimanjaro climb will be used to start the micro loan program.

Jacob was having an active bleed as we were there, and Julie, still very jet-lagged, skillfully gave him an infusion of factor in the home! It’s amazing considering this is not only Julie’s first trip to Africa and it’s only day 2, but it’s her first trip outside the US!

While she cleaned up the medical supplies, Jeff and Jacob compared war wounds!

While saying our good-byes, the neighborhood children gathered round. We played catch with them and I snapped photos and then showed them the photos in the viewer, which delighted them to no end. Dozens of children romped about in the project square, with no adults supervising them.

On to Michael’s house. Michael is a sweet-tempered, charming youth of 21, wheelchair bound. He lives in a very small home, just two rooms and a small kitchen. Michael suffered a stroke in 2008, and has had epilepsy since, in addition to his factor VIII deficiency. His father Anthony just lost his job, and his mother’s company is downsizing and she fears losing her job, and then home. They live life on the edge. Michael’s medical concerns have overwhelmed the poor family. He is paralyzed on half his body. They have no car, and must use public transportation, in all that traffic. We can only imagine how difficult it is to get this young man into a wheelchair, down the street, on to a bus, and then to a hospital. Julie looked at his CT scans and saw the damage done to his brain. “One half his brain is dead,” said his mother. Yet Michael spoke very well, and told us he dreams of being a doctor one day, or at least to work with the JMHS-K to help the children with hemophilia, like him. I think we all had tears in our eyes when we left.

Michael needs a sponsor desperately, so please consider sponsoring him!

Another patient we visited was Stephen. He lives in his aunt’s nice home, which is large and clean. His primary family lives “upcountry” and they have given Steve to his aunt to be raised. The mother, simple and uneducated, thinks Steve has an evil spirit living in him—why else would he have this mysterious disorder? The aunt works for a bank, and is not a young woman, and also cares for other relatives. Steve doesn’t get to see his mother or sisters very much. On top of all this, his father just died in May. The aunt showed me a photo of a tall, handsome man. Life is so hard and brief here!

Last of all, we visited the Odwars, who I have visited three times in three years now! Daughter Moline and son Jovan have von Willebrand Disease. We hugged and hugged, and I finally gave Jovan something I had been saving all year—art supplies. He is a prolific sketcher and artist! Our group was very humbled by their small home, yet impressed by their immaculate attire and manners. It was heart wrenching to hear that they were 6 months in arrears with rent payement, and were being threatened to be homeless. We quickly paid off the rent, which brought tears of relief. All too soon we had to move on.

At dinner, back at the hotel, eating steaks at the “Golden Spur,” which ironically is decorated like the South West, Texan Jeff happily said he would sponsor Steve. As always, when you meet these amazing people, who live in poverty, with personal loss, pain that never yields, and a gentle grace, you come away feeling more grateful, more blessed, more compassionate and more powerful—you realize you have the power to change someone’s life.

I am already feeling a harvest from our trip, and know that these new friends in our lives represent the rich millet that can only produce such a harvest.

More bogging will come soon!

When Everyone Lifts

Laurie Kelley July 25, 2011

Few burdens are heavy when everyone lifts. —African proverb

I am in Kenya at last! For the first time, I am bringing a team with me. On this trip, to Kenya first, then to scale Kilimanjaro, everyone lifts!

We had a long flight: Julie Winton, a nurse with BioRx, arrived in Boston on Thursday, and I drove down to meet her and whisk her away to my home. We reviewed the gear and equipment for Kilimanjaro, and weighed our bags. Mine was 16.5 pounds; hers was 44.5. While I gloated, Julie pointed out how little I had by way to thermal/arctic clothing. She scared me into buying more. She said it was -5 degrees on Kili!

So we packed and repacked all night, and on Friday morning, we drove to EMS to buy a sleeping back liner and heavier socks. Much better!

At 3 pm our ride arrived. I was shocked to see a stretch limo–a surprise from my assistant. And we need it–we had six huge bags, filled to the max, and two carry-ons each, also filled.

A seven-hour flight to Paris only to face a delayed flight by 12 hours, a rented hotel room in Paris, then an 8.5 hour flight at 11 pm last night, landing us in Nairobi this morning. Julie didn’t sleep all night.

Nairobi is beautiful: the air is cool and dry, the streets clear for once. Cattle are shooed along by a barefoot boy, alongside motorbikes and cars that seemingly mocking him as they whiz by. We pull up to the Southern Sun Hotel, just last year the Holiday Inn. When I check in, the staff says, “You’ve been here before.” Two other times, in fact! I know this place well.

We relax, unpack. Later, our colleague, Maureen Miruka, founder and president of the Jose Memorial Hemophilia Society visits. While sipping tea, we discuss how we will most likely invest the up to $45,000 we have gleaned from our climbing proceeds. For that is what we are doing: investing in the future of hemophilia in Africa.

While Kenya is a model African country, the country is currently faced with an influx of refugees. Conflicts in the Horn of Africa have driven more than 1,300 refugees a day, the vast majority from embattled Somalia, into the Dadaab refugee camps in Kenya – now the world’s largest humanitarian crisis, with almost 400,000 refugees in three camps designed for 90,000.

Short-term efforts by humanitarian groups include improvements including safe water and sanitation, improved security, and access to health services and emergency shelter.

For now, this doesn’t touch us. We will focus on the crisis of hemophilia. At dinner we sat around, told stories, and prepped for tomorrow, when we will go to the homes of the poor, to see how hemophilia is not just endured but survived.

Interesting Book I Just Read
A Stolen Life by Jaycee Dugard

I have to review this book with two hats: one as a human being and mother; the other as an editor. And it wasn’t easy in either case. Jaycee Dugan’s story has made headlines for the past two years; in 1991, at age 11, while walking to the bus stop for school, she was tasered and abducted by a married couple. For the next eighteen years, she was held in crude captivity until her rescue in 2009. She suffered years of what can only be described as sexual and psychological torture, living in a tent in the backyard, unseen by the world. She survived by learning to adapt, giving in to the perverse needs of her captors, and eventually gave birth to two daughters, the first when she was only 14 years old. Her case made headlines also as a horrific example of the failures of the legal system: Garrido was a known pedophile, and parole officers who visited the home numerous times never once looked in the back yard, where they would have seen Jaycee.

Jaycee’s memoir is honest, direct, and spares no detail. You will marvel at how a child survived such abuse; you may cry as you read this, or even stop reading it. Jaycee was never allowed to use her own name, was deprived of all books, TV and human contact other than Philip Garrido for months. Eventually, she lived vicariously through the TV and internet, and gained access to the main house, but always returned to her crude tent, where there was no plumbing or luxuries. By complying, she won favors, such as outings and even helping the Garridos run a printing business. She never, ever forgot who she was, that this was wrong, and prayed that someone would recognize her. She is filled with longing for her mother, which is perhaps the most poignant part of the book. The book is a testament not only to Jaycee’s strong spirit but to the human spirit and how, even in a child, it can triumph over the worst of circumstances. Jaycee is not filled with hate, does not feel entitled, and has moved on with her life. She is now a lady who is dignified, calm and impressive.

As an editor, I do need to point out objectively that the book is not well written. It took only a night to read, was riveting, but uneven, choppy and skips vast amounts of time in her captivity. It’s told only from her point-of-view, which is fine, but the book would have been so much better in the hands of an experienced writer who could have brought more of what was happening with efforts to find her, and her mother’s experience. The book feels like it was written by a child, and in many ways it was, as Jaycee’s education ended so abruptly in fifth grade, and she endured so much. More time was spent describing her numerous pets than her own children—these are odd things psychologically, and even endearing, but makes the book a bit frustrating to read. Still, I highly recommend it. Jaycee is a classy lady and perhaps the bravest one we can imagine, to share her experiences. I think she may have shared too soon, however; perhaps over time she can pen another, which will provide more insight from her as an adult. My rating refers to the content and my regard for the author, and less the style. Three stars.

Stairway to Heaven

Laurie Kelley July 25, 2011

“The true result of endeavor, whether on a mountain or in any other context, may be found rather in its lasting effects than in the few moments during which a summit is trampled by mountain boots. The real measure is the success or failure of the climber to triumph, not over a lifeless mountain, but over himself: the true value of the enterprise lies in the example to others of human motive and human conduct.” —Sir John Hunt, leader of the 1953 British expedition that first ascended Mount Everest

In one week I will return to Kenya, for my fifth visit. And two weeks from today I will be somewhere along the Machame route on Mt. Kilimanjaro! I’ve been training hard these past two months with an excellent trainer. He’s helped me increase my endurance–rather than walk on my treadmill, or even jog, I set it at the highest incline, strap on ten pounds and my hiking boots, and “hike” for an hour, sweat pouring off me. The first 15 minutes are hard, but soon, it is a rhythm, and then it’s easy. I look forward to it the next day!

Check out my rainproof jacket, embossed with our Kilimanjaro logo, compliments of Neil Herson, president of ASD Healthcare and fellow teammate!

Twice a week I’ve been doing plyometrics, simple looking exercises that are deceptively hard. Dan’s license plate reads “TRNZ4MR” and he is a Transformer! I’ve shed 7 pounds of fat and have toner muscles. Just in two months! I have learned to love to eat egg white and protein bars, and no longer crave M&Ms, my stress food. I feel ready for Kili.

My daughter, feels ready too. She worked out with Dan once–and when she hit my iPod, which had been playing the Doors for an hour–the shuffle picked a song out of 4,200 songs… called “Kilimanjaro.” (Hear Twilight Zone music playing, anyone?)

Today we sorted through all our gear. It’s a lot of planning. We have to plan for 5 days in Nairobi, visiting hemophilia patients, the members of the Jose Memorial Hemophilia Society, the hospital and doctors. We’ll be taking visits to the villages, far from Nairobi. Then, we will leave on the 5th to fly to Arusha, Tanzania. The next day, we start our 6 day climb!

All of this benefits Save One Life and our Africa programs. All ten climbers are paying their own expenses. Every penny raised goes to the organization and to fund our programs in Africa. Please stay tuned as I hope to bring you stories of our adventures, and portraits of the people whose lives we touch. I am most anxious to see Peter, who has hemophilia, and his younger brother Zakayo, who was in a psychiatric ward when I visited him, a victim of the riots that broke almost two years ago. The ward was a grim place. His brother was declared “cured” but the family had no money to pay for his care. No money? No release. The poor young man was trapped in that place. We paid the $300+ fee to get this young man released to go home to his family. For us this is what it means to save one life. One child, one young man, one hemophilia patient at a time. They all have names and stories and our climbers will have the immense privilege to enter their world, and experience a little of what they endure.

Our climb up Kilimanjaro may be the hardest thing we have ever done in our lives, but pales next to the daily lives of those who live in poverty with hemophilia. Thinking of them makes our climb a stairway to heaven, as the money we raise will help ease their suffering. We get to relax after our six day ordeal; theirs never seems to end.

Please make a contribution to the fundraiser! 100% of your donation goes to Save One Life and our Africa program, and not to climbers’ expenses! Help change the lives of those in Africa with hemophilia–one at a time. Visit SaveOneLife.net and click “Donate”

Countdown: Three Weeks

Laurie Kelley July 18, 2011

Three weeks from today I will be settling into a sleeping bag on Mt. Kilimanjaro, gazing at what I think will be a billion stars overhead. But… back to today. I was supposed to go back to Mt. Washington to hike again, but the Auto Road was closed and… it’s a long way to drive up and back–about 6 hours that I don’t have right now.

But training continues!

I dusted off my Orbea Diva racing bike and took it for a 12 mile bike ride, thinking of Barry Haarde and thanking him for reigniting my love of cycling this year. Quite frankly, I am afraid of my bike. I’m used to the heavier hybrids, where you can really pump hard and fast, standing up even. But this thing.. it weighs about 13 pounds, is light and super fast, but moves when you do. The bike was shaking for 10 minutes when I realized it just feels every vibration in me. It has clip-in pedals, which also takes some getting used to. I survived and really enjoyed it!

My trainer, however, says the bike isn’t enough. Not enough cardio. Ten minutes with my trainer and I feel my heart bursting and pounding, just like it did on Mt. Washington. I see him twice a week and it’s made a huge difference. Dan suggested I increase the incline on my treadmill (what a concept! I’ve had it for years but never do that!), throw a ten pound weight on my back, lace up my boots and walk it. Sounds easy, but within 10 minutes, I was sweating and got the heart pounding again. This is a good thing. Eventually, someday, it will get easy. But not really before Kili.

As important as the training is what I am eating. Previously, I had fallen into a pattern of carbs, carbs, carbs, which gives me lots of energy. But also gives me points in the day when I am totally depleted. I’ve switched to a high protein diet, with minimum carbs. It was kind of hard at first, but now I am slowly losing my cravings for any carbs. This is great because not craving them allows you to think about what you are to eat, not just react. The protein helps repair the muscle tears (plenty of those) and carbs give you energy. This past week I ate so few carbs I found myself really depleted. After an hour with Dan, I went to run 4 miles, made it 2.5 and crawled the rest of the way home!

I am mostly vegetarian, and never eat red meat. No longer. All the working out has raised my energy levels, and I feel like a machine churning away calories! It seems I can’t eat enough, but I am slowly losing weight.

The treadmill says I burned off about 400 calories; how much could one little s’more that night cost?

Seriously, I’m learning so much about eating right, and exercising for maximum effect. If you want to learn about being fit, getting fit and raising your standard of life, check out Bayer’s Living Fit program that might be of help to you.

On Saturday I went shopping at REI and bought sleeping bags, day packs… a ton of stuff you need for six days on the mountain. We will start in tropical weather and end (hopefully) in winter weather with the temperature dropping to the 20 degree mark! It’s really getting exciting, now that the big day is coming!

Consider a sponsorship! I still need to raise more money. Go to www.saveonelife.net and click on Donate Now. Then click Kilimanjaro and follow the directions. Let’s raise it for Africa! Asante Sana!