Miryante, a place for Carnivores (and Orphans)

Sorry it has been a while since I last posted. I keep getting busier and busier at work. Plus, I have been battling various illnesses and fatigue, which is common in the first few months after you relocate to Africa. Slow by slow, I am adjusting well.

A few weeks back, I visited Laura at her orphanage, Miryante, for 5 days. This was my second trip there; she and I went there last August for 2 weeks. She left in late September to return to her favorite place, a place she helped start and continues to help in any way she can. This time, she is teaching a class on health and safety to the adolescents in the Vocational School. Topics include how to care for an infant, general health and nutrition, and menstruation, among others.

The flight on RwandAir was efficient, quick, and nice. I left Kigali around 2 pm on Friday, and arrived at Entebbe Airport, about a 40 km drive from Kampala. But with traffic, that drive is a nightmare, especially at 4 pm on a Friday. Our driver managed to skip downtown all together, and dropped us off at a “taxi park” (ie. a place on the side of the road where many buses known as Mutates (sp?) are parked) outside of town. It took about 1.5 hours to get there, but we made it. We only sat for about 20 min before we finally left for the orphanage, a 3 hour drive from Kampala. Being the mzungus, we got the front seats, but it was still cramped. We stopped a lot, and got Ugandan Fast Food on the way (a person selling luke warm, grilled beef brochettes and chapatis, an Indian tortilla). We finally arrived at Miryante around 930, tired from the journey. We were greeted as per usual by some of the older kids. For some reason, they love carrying my large backpack upside down? I don’t know.

Before I continue with the trip, here is a little background about Miryante (which means Village of Meat Eaters.) Laura was in the middle of her service as a Peace Corps volunteer in Uganda when she was approached by the Catholic Church in her Western District to help out at an orphanage. She accepted, and helped the orphanage for an extra year and some change. She oversaw the construction of many of the buildings, including the dorms where the children stay. When she left her Peace Corps service to go to Nursing school, she continued to be involved from the US, mainly as the primary fundraiser for the orphanage. She always made it back every August for a few weeks to see the children, and to help out in any way she could. Even during nursing school at Ohio State, Miryante was never far from her mind, communicating with the staff on many occasions. It really is impressive what she has done, and I am proud of her for what she has accomplished. Currently, it is funded through collections in church and people who sponsor online. There is always a need for more sponsors and help (See the end of this post.)

During her time with the orphanage, it has grown from 10 children to 120. The children live in dormitories with about 10-15 children each. There is a caretaker in each dorm. The children walk to school about 5 km away. The children in secondary school attend a private school a few towns away. There is a technical school that teaches hairdressing, bricklaying, carpentry, civil engineering, electricians, computers, and tailoring. Older teenagers from around the region can attend, they do not have to be living at the orphanage. The grounds are huge, and have ample gardens that are now being cultivated with coffee beans (a donation from the Ugandan Government), papaya, mango, avocado, beans, plantains.

Getting back to the visit, it was a chance to just chill, and live the “village life.” The Guest House has no power, though it is wired for power. No one has come to switch the power on for the whole orphanage. There are two guest rooms and 2 bathrooms, with toilets that kind of work. Guests are suggested to use the pit latrines like every one else. There is a shower, but bucket showers are the way to go in my opinion. Cooking is done on a small gas burning stove that looks about as old as me, with Arabic writing on it. Headlamps are the way to go at night, as well as candles.

The day after I arrived, a new volunteer arrived. Gordon is from Scotland, and had a calling to do work at the Orphanage. He is slated to be there for 2 months, and then see if he would like to stay longer. From the brief time he and I chatted, he seemed like he was going to be there a while.

So what exactly is the “village life?” The usual day is up early, and enjoy coffee on the front porch. We cook breakfast (porridge with cinnamon toast or fried eggs with cinnamon toast!) and then usually play with the children in preschool. These ones were a new addition to Miryante, and it was awesome to see them interact with mzungus, a novel event for them. One day we performed physical exams on them as part of our medical surveillance from last year. Another day was spent reading, talking to the caretakers, and watching the older kids and caretakers from Miryante play a soccer match against the nearest trading center, Kakabara (Another post on that epic match for the ages coming soon…) Another day, Adolf and I watched an English Premiere League Match in town in a small, dimly lit wooden structure. Yet another day, I visited Adolf’s family, and met his son, Raymond (Guess which TV star his son is named after? Yep, you guessed it, because Everyone Loves…!!!)

We usually ate lunch of posho (mashed plantains) or rice and beans (though no where near as good as New Orleans Red Beans and Rice!) A nap was an essential part of my visit. Dinner was usually prepared under head lamp and candle light, using semi-sharp knives on a plastic serving platter as our cutting board. Adolf usually went shopping every few days for goods at Kakabara, his home village. We ate a lot of eggplant. tomato, onion, and avocado combinations with various spices the Guest House had collected over the years. After we cleaned up, we would usually have a small bit of chocolate, and watch Arrow on DVD on Laura’s computer (If you haven’t seen it, it is a great show; on Netflix now.) And then bed.

I was sad to leave after only 5 days, but I felt the call of my patients and my life in Rwanda. I said goodbye to Miryante, knowing full well that I would return one day soon.

Perhaps the most important thing I have learned during my 2 visits there has been that these children are amazing! Despite everything life has thrown at them (half of them have parents that died of HIV), they continue to laugh, love, and learn in an environment that is a perfect place to nurture and provide for them. They need all the support they can get.

The following is a direct quote from Laura: “The quality of care we provide is related to the amount of support we received as far as food purchased, amount of clothes, etc. So please give because we have around 100 kids who need sponsors. Sponsorship gives you the chance to support a child on a more personal level.”

This is where you can really make a difference. People can sponsor by visiting the website (www.miryanteorphange.org), search for the children to sponsor. I have been sponsoring a 15 year old name Musiga Alex for the past year and a half. I can honestly say it is the best feeling to know that my small monthly donation is helping to support him and to fulfill his dreams. I highly, strongly, EMPHATICALLY suggest that you all consider sponsoring a child there. Your small, monthly donation will go a long way to support this amazing place.

That’s all for now. I am in Kigali for a long weekend. I have a monthly Pediatric Staff meeting today, followed by lunch with my fellow Pediatricians, then another meeting to discuss a grant proposal, and then Happy Hour with my fellow HRHers. Tomorrow is the annual Marine Ball (yes, as in US Marines.) I still have to find something formal-ish to wear; my usual casual style has to be stepped up a bit.

More to come soon.
Love life, Enjoy liberty, and Be happy!

Craiger

Laura teaching chess.

Miryante from afar.

View from the Guest House down towards the main part of the Orphanage. Those are the dorms.

Sunset at the orphanage.

One of my favorite pics I took just before I left. Timo, the baby, was only there for a short time.

Julius, a 5 year old with personality!

Adolf's son, Raymond and I outside Adolf's house.

Yes, I actually do medical work.

It has been a while…

Hey there. Sorry it has been a while since I last posted. I have been wicked busy. Here are a few highlights, with more detailed posts to come:

- I was asked to help present to a Clinical Officer (CO) class. Here, CO are the Rwandan equivalent of a Physician Assistant. They will be the ones on the front line, in the Health Centers throughout the country. I presented on 2 topics for about 2.5 hours on 2 different days. It was a lot of work and exhausting, not only preparing the lectures, but also presenting. I have a new found appreciation for teaching, and for those of you who are teachers. A special shout out to Scott Conard and Michael Wilbanks!

- I traveled to visit Laura at her orphanage in Western Uganda over 5 days. It was an awesome trip, playing with the orphans, especially the preschool aged kids, a new addition to the orphanage. Laura and the staff there continue to impress me with the level of care they provide, and how well the kids are taken care of. It is always good to go there, and take a break from cell phones, emails, etc., and just live. 

- I am working on making my house more of a home, i.e. gardening, decorating, etc. pics to come soon. 

- Work continues to be rewarding, and challenging. It has been slower than usual, with most of the wards at CHUB at about 75% capacity. I am sure it is the calm before the storm. 

- I am making friends, and I am bonding with my fellow musungus and Rwandans in Butare.

- I have been exercising 3 times a week at Gym Tonic, a hybrid cardio/calisthenic workout that lasts for 1.5 hours for ~ $ 0.75 per class. Pretty amazing stuff. 

Like I said, more to come soon, including pictures. 

Lastly, I miss the Fall: the cool nights, the colors, apple cider, really APPLES in general, and American football. The funny thing is, as much as I miss them, life still goes on, and I am learning to appreciate the wonders of my new home: warm days, coolish nights, the beautiful people, the work I am doing. 

Amahoro,

Craiger

Life in Butare

So what is life really like in Rwanda?

It is simple, yet more complex. Everyday tasks take more effort, yet seem to make more sense, more real. You have to do more to accomplish the same task in the US. For example, we have to turn on a small generator that generates added water pressures prior to showering. We treat our water by collecting tap water in 20 gallon jerry cans, add a certain amount of bleach solution to the water, and let sit for 30 min prior to drinking. We “top up”our cell phone or internet for our phones as we go, similar to pay as you go in the US. We have to converse with our moto taxi drivers and negotiate a price prior to leaving. We haggle over prices at the local market.

Our house is in Taba a Northern suburb. Our friends call it the yuppie area of town, and I can see why. Most of the houses here are really a compound, an enclosed area with grounds, smaller buildings for storage or worker’s quarters, and a main house. Each compound has thick, high walls, with crushed glass or iron spikes on the top of the walls to ward off any would be intruders. Each place has thick iron doors that open up to the street. Ours is manicured with bushes, tropical plants, and high pine trees native to Africa. The back yard has large, raised mound gardens, with plantain trees near the back fence and compost “hole.”

We eat well, mostly vegetarian. I send Evanys to the market weekly with ~ $30 for groceries and supplies. One the weekends, we buy a few more groceries for about $8. I eat out twice a week at lunch, spending about $3 each. So, best guess: $50 per week for food for 3 people.

Now this is coming from a guy who is living in a nice house, in a nice suburb, with guards and a housekeeper/cook. I have it pretty well off. What about the people that work in the market, on the motos that I take to work everyday, the nurses and orderlies that work at my hospital? What is life really like in Rwanda for them?

Kwita Izina

Rwanda is known for one type of wildlife: mountain gorillas. Jane Fossey, of Gorillas in the Mist fame, lived in Northern Rwanda. Thousands of musungus travel to Rwanda each year to trek to the mountain Gorillas in the northwest part of Rwanda. It is a cottage industry, and the locals earn 5% of the proceeds from Gorilla tracking.

It is such serious business that they hold a yearly naming ceremony for the baby gorillas called Kwita Izina. This is adopted from a ceremony that Rwandans used to hold for naming their children. Each September, at the foothills of the Volcanoes where the Gorillas call home, the Rwandan government sponsors a naming ceremony of all of the baby gorillas that were born in the past year.

HRH, my organizations, set up a trip for those interested to see a District Hospital where we work, and to see the naming ceremony. We decided to jump at the chance. The tour was on Friday. I left first via the “white bullet,” at 530 AM to meet up with the HRH group in Kigali, and then we drove an additional 2 hours to the District Hospital. Adolf joined me a few hours later while Laura met up with a friend of hers from Uganda in Kigali for the weekend.

We went to a one of the freshwater, volcanic lakes at the foothills of the Volcanoes National Park, where the gorillas live. On of our HRH coordinators, Joseph, had arranged for a boat tour. After a bumpy, off road ride, the group of MDs, nurses, and economists arrived at this secluded lake shore. There was a hydroelectric plant on the left, and not much else. We could barely make out this resort across the lake. Joseph stated we would be taking tea at the resort, that a boat was coming. We looked around, no boat in sight. In classic Rwandan fashion, he said “Yes, he is coming.” Sure enough, a small boat appeared. It was a wooden, covered pinnase (canoe) with an outboard motor. It made ground, and the 18 of us got on board. It wouldn’t move. After some engineering, it finally moved. We made the 15 min trip to the resort, and got to know each other better over tea for some, and adult beverages for others.

We then made the trek back to the other side in pitch black, the only sound we heard was the low-pitched din of the outboard motor (We chose as a group to ride back in silence, and with no cell phones on, to add to the experience.) It was one of the most eerie, but exhilarating trips I have ever made. We made it back, and ate dinner at the local Musungu Doctor’s house, who had been living and working in Rwanda for 12 years. Good food, good people, in Africa. It was awesome.

We left for the ceremony the next AM around 8. We were told that the president was speaking, so no cell phones and cameras were allowed, unless you held a press pass. Damn, I knew I should have brought my press pass…

So, after some administrative issues that had to be resolved, we entered the park. We had VIP access, we were musungus after all. We had tented seats along with other VIPs from around the world, and around the corner. Meanwhile, the rest of the Rwandans stood in a central area in the middle of the grounds in front of the stage. Tens of thousands of them (A local source told me that about 100000 people were there, but I don’t know.) It was quite impressive. Honestly, it felt weird; I felt disconnected, not a part of the real experience. And then it started raining… So that feeling dissipated.

At one point, we saw gorilla like people walking toward us. Adolf thought for a moment that they were real. And then he saw the Halloween costume like masks, and started laughing. “They are not serious, Craig” he said! He could not believe how well they moved, like real gorillas!

After that, the naming started. This past year, 24 gorillas were born, the most in a long time. In each of the past 5 years, the numbers of gorillas born in the wild has increased. 2 years ago, 16, last year, 18; proof that the conservation efforts were working. A bunch of Africans, Europeans, and Americans (aka those that had a lot of money) dressed in “royal” garb took to the stage, each naming a baby gorilla in Kinyarwanda: “precious,” “strength,” and “unity” are some of the names that stuck out.

Then the obligatory speeches by politicians, touting the efforts of the President and the conservation groups. President Kigame was the last to speak. His motorcade arrived, and he strode in, walking around to the crowd. Even though I could barely make out his face, I could see why the people of Rwanda love their president: he had charisma, empathy, and really seemed to care. Even though his speech was all in the local language, it must have been important, as the Rwandans cheered for most of it.

After the pomp and circumstance, it was time to eat. The entire VIP section stormed the food tent. There was a buffet large enough to feed 5000 people set up, and enough beer and wine at each table to satiate a few Las Vegas bachelor parties. You see, kids, buffets are a Rwandan staple, and this one did not disappoint. Lines are not really a thing in Rwanda, more like a semblance of a line may for, but really you can get in anywhere there may be a few inches. We were lucky enough to get in front of one line, and found enough seats to relax a bit, and feast.

We were some of the last to leave, and made the 2 hour long trek back to Kigali. I think the entire bus slept for a time.

Overall, it was a great trip. I am glad I was able to take Adolf to experience this cultural event. Below are some of the pictures from the Kwita Izina website (Remember how I said we were not allowed to have cell phones or cameras? totally not true. there were many cell phones and cameras in the grounds. Oh well. Next time, I gotta remember that press pass for craigerinrwanda.blogspot.com!) (That was a joke folks; though the idea has crossed my mind, much to Laura’s chagrin!)

Talk to you soon.

So recognize the guy waaayyyy in back with the sunglasses on... Yep, I am official, or something!

                                                               X

So just what am I doing in Rwanda?

After 2 weeks of adjusting, I decided to bite the bullet, and head to work as an observer until my Rwandan Medical License was cleared.

I am assigned to the Centre Hospitalier Universitaire de Butare (CHUB), one of the main teaching hospitals in Rwanda. It is actually the oldest teaching hospital in the country. The referral base is approximately 1/3 of the country, mostly from the West to Lake Kivu, South to the Burundi border (only about 30 min away!) and the Southwestern part of the country, all the way to the Democratic Republic of Congo.

The hospital itself is situated on the Southern part of town, about a 30 min walk from my house, or an 8 min moto ride. It is a large complex of mostly 2 story buildings, each different departments: Internal Medicine, OB/GYN, ENT, Surgery, etc. The pediatric department has its own ward, divided into separate sections. The newest part is the Outpatient Department (OPD), with offices for staff and clinical personnel, as well as exam rooms. This leads into an outdoor patio, which then leads to the hospitalized patients. Ward A has the sicker children, Ward B is a step-down unit prior to discharge. For the patients that require extra stay, they stay in the Pathology Ward (IMHO, not the best name, but, it is a bed.) The Emergency Department has about 8 beds.  Surprisingly, there are some private rooms for patients that can afford a little extra comfort, above that which the medical insurance provides. There is no PICU yet (here it is called a High Dependency Unit), but there is a plan in the works. There is a separate area that houses the NICU. There have a little more than 30 beds, usually full. They even have an area for breastfeeding mothers who are having problems breastfeeding.

For now, I have my own office. It was previously inhabited by the 3 HRH doctors here last year. The High Dependency Unit I spoke of will be next door, and there is a plan to change my office into the nurses’s office who can observe the sick patients there. I will likely have to change my office, which I am OK with.

I was very impressed when I took the tour a few days after arriving in Butare. Over the past two weeks, I have slowly grown accustomed to the layout. It may not make much sense to the outsider, but it has a surprisingly good flow after you get used to it.

My job is to teach the Pediatric residents and medical students. The past 3 years there were 3 HRH doctors here. This year, for a variety of reasons, there is just me! I am an “Attending,” which for those of you non-Medical people, is like the head doctor. Imagine the lead doctors on your favorite MD TV shows like ER, and, ugh, Gray’s Anatomy (Sorry, y’all, I just never got into it, not my thing. My Mom, on the other hand, can't get enough!) Like the rest of the world, medical school in Rwanda is 6 years. The first 2 years are strict book learning. Year 3 starts their clinical experience (called Doc 1 here in Rwanda.) There are about 8 Doc 1s per 8 week rotation. Then there are interns (Doc 4) and the Pediatric Residents. Typically there are about 6 interns, and 8 residents. Here, pediatric residency is 4 years as opposed to 3 in the US. They have to spend at least 1 year working as an MD at one of the District Hospitals prior to applying for residency.

My official job description includes the following: assisting the Rwandan doctors who are in charge of organizing the curriculum for the undergraduates and the Post-graduates, rounding on the Pediatric patients daily, teaching the undergraduates 1x week in physical exam skills, lecturing at least once a month to the pediatric residents, administrative work, and helping the Rwandans with their research projects. It is a lot to cram into a 10 hour day, and some of it has already involved some after work time. A lot of the ground work was laid by my predecessors, and I have them to thank immensely.

My usual day starts at 730 with morning report, where the on call interns and residents discuss the admissions the night before, and any other sick patients. We usually focus on the more complicated patients first, then discuss the more routine ones. They also discuss any concerns about the clerkship. i am usually up at 545 or so for a quick workout, walk the dog, eat breakfast, and make sure I have enough time to get to the hospital prior to 730.

Lunch is usually out of the hospital. Afternoons are rather loose right now, but a lot of the time, will involve a case presentation or lecturing the peds residents once the medical students start. I use a lot of that time to read up on patients.

I am still learning the ropes, and have a lot to remember from my days as a Pediatric resident. However, it is surprising how much of that knowledge is still in that large cranial mass of mine.

The pathology (i.e. the illnesses) here are complex, and truly tropical medicine: peritoneal tuberculosis, rheumatic heart disease with heart failure, HIV and chronic cough of unknown cause, rickets, malnutrition, malaria (only one case as of now!), schistosomiasis, Hepatitis B infection with cirrhosis of the liver, amongst other diseases we see back in the US. And there are very few specialists here for say, Peds Hematology/Oncology, Peds Pulmonology. We are the de facto MDs that must decide how to treat these patients. And that was just my first 2 weeks!

So far, I love it! I go in with a smile on my face every day, and continue smiling throughout the day. There have been some challenges (lack of clear schedule for this current round of residents, no blood culture vials, not enough CPAP machines for sick babies, 5 premature infants dying in 3 days, upset parents requiring the assistance of a SW (I wish you were here, Linda Van Camp!)) but overall, it has been a positive experience, and I can’t wait for more.

Talk to you soon!

P.S. I received an email from the HRH coordinator last week: My medical license and Visa were approved, and ready for me to pick them up in Kigali! I am official, Gulp.......

P.P.S. As I write this on the front porch, my dog Magnum is chasing the monkeys that usually migrate through our yard to feed around dusk. Ya know, just a usual day here in Butare, Rwanda…

Lake Kivu

Laura and I set off for Lake Kivu on last Saturday AM. Luckily for us, the public transport is very close, about a 5 min walk from our house. There are a myriad of companies that offer trips from Butare to other cities. I found the buses to be rather organized, and left according to a strict schedule. This is different that my previous experience in Africa, when the bus left when there were enough people on it.

Most of the buses are “White Bullets,” 20 passenger vans that are shaped like a bullet, and painted white. They are Japanese made, and drive fairly well, and provide a comfortable ride.

We got a one way trip for 2 for about $8 total. Not bad, I know. We stopped off in the 2nd biggest town in Rwanda, Muhanga, and then hopped on a different bus for Karongi (old name Kibuye) on the shores of Lake Kivu. Lake Kivu is a volcanic lake that sits on the western border of Rwanda, and shares coastline with Congo on the other side of the lake. It is a pristine location! Here is a picture from the dining room from our hotel:

Luckily, there was a cheap room (~ $8 US for 2 beds) available. Laura and I prefer the cheaper options when it comes to hotels, for the most part. I will say that occasionally it is important to splurge on occasion, especially when living overseas.

It was a rather relaxing time away from life in the city. A lot of reading, chilling, and catching up with family back home. The food at the hotel was good, and plus there were not a lot of eating options in town, according to the Bradt Guide (Best guide about Rwanda, period.)

Our hotel arranged for a boat ride to Amohoro Island (remember the name for peace?) in the middle of the lake on the Rwandan side.

So swimming in any lake in the world is not without risk, even in the US. The freshwater lakes in Africa offer a different spin on safe swimming: infectious disease. There is a well known disease called Schistosomiasis that lives in Fresh water lakes and streams around the world, especially in Africa. It lives in small snails in the water. Larva emerge from the snails, latch on to your skin, and enters the blood. and causes problems months to years later. The species that is most endemic (i.e. native to) Sub-saharan Africa is called S. haematobium. The latin scholars among you will notice the haem- prefix, which means blood. It will cause our urine to turn red from bleeding, and will lead to bladder cancer. Now, depending on who you speak to, this may or may not be a problem in Lake Kivu. According to our guides, this was not a problem (a common saying about anything in this amazing continent.)

So, I took the plunge, and cooled off in the waters, even raced our boat driver in a freestyle/butterfly race. Well, after a tasty dinner and some further research, Schisto does exist in Lake Kivu in some areas. Luckily, Schisto is easily treated if caught at the right time, and there is a relatively cheap antiparasite medication that will cure you. In fact, my research shows that some de-worming campaigns have focused on this condition in other parts of Africa, including the shores of Lake Kivu.

Monday was spent reading some more, and getting some beach time in. Here is their version of a beach on Lake Kivu:

We then went on a sunset cruise with the same boat driver as yesterday. Folks, my favorite time of day is sunset. It provides a time to reflect on the day, lessons learned, and for improvements. Whenever I travel, I love to watch the sunset. It truly was a perfect sunset, and it served as a good way to end our trip:

We got up early the next day, (5 AM) and started our return to Butare. We had to stop off in Kigali to pick up Adolf, Laura’s good friend from Uganda. This is his first trip ever out of Uganda. He took an overnight bus from the capital, Kampala, and traveled about 12 hours until he arrived in Kigali around 4 AM. We left Kibuye around 530 on the first bus out, and met up in the Bus/Taxi park on the Northwestern part of Kigali. For the uninitiated, African Taxi Parks are a sea of humanity, and can be a complex thing to navigate. Luckily, we found him, and went on our way to purchase some goods at the local supermarket that are note available in Butare.

She has known him since he was a teenager in her former village, and accompanies her to the Orphanage whenever she is there. He will be living with us for the next month to help Laura on a month long educational session planned for the adolescents at Miryante, teaching them life skills for when the time comes for them to leave the Orphans home, and strike out on there own.

It is truly a good thing to see Laura excited about her upcoming month with Adolf, and her month long sojourn back to Miryante in October to spend time at a very special place for her. It has been difficult for her, as she has not had luck finding a nursing job here in Rwanda.

So, enough for now. More soon on life here in Butare, and orientation at the hospital.

Cheers,

cjc

Hello all-

We are back from Lake Kivu since Monday, and I just got done with Orientation at the hospital. It was a very positive day thus far.

My thoughts are with New Orleans today as it celebrates 10 years since Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans on 8/29/2005.  First there was a storm, then a man-made flood. That city I still love has beaten the odds, and is a better place than it was pre-Katrina (at least in my opinion, I am sure there are others out there that think differently. I am proud to have called it home for almost 9 years. Here is to New Orleans, and continued recovery.

Instead of waxing philosophically today about recovery, loss, triumph, all that stuff, I thought I would repost what I wrote 10 years ago.

I promise I will write more soon, and post pictures. Internet is a struggle here.

New Orleans, here is to you!

cjc

_________________________________________________________________________________

28 Aug 2005

Well, I was intending to use this beautiful Sunday afternoon in Mali to talk more about life in general here in Mali, the people I have met, the crazy, other worldly sights I have seen, and other such thoughts. However, my mind and my thoughts are with my friends in New Orleans, who are bracing for the sting of Hurricane Katrina. Since I have been living in New Orleans, there have been at least 5 tropical storms/hurricane scares, 2 of which I have evacuated for. My first ever experience was my first week of school at Tulane while I was earning my MPH. The first two days of school were cancelled, and yet nothing hit New Orleans. A few months later we were hit with another scare, one which forced us to evacuate to Memphis. Nothing really came of it though. During my first year of medical school in 2002, our first round of exams were cancelled due to a hurricane scare. Last Fall, while on my OB/GYN rotation, Hurricane Ivan was headed right for New Orleans, and forced us to evacuate to Houston. While that storm missed New Orleans, it did cause some minor damage.

Before I left New Orleans at the end of June, the nascent hurricane season had yet to rear her ugly head anywhere in the Atlantic. I recall packing up my belongings and storing the non-essentials that I really didn't need while I was in Africa at my cousin Mary's house in Mid-City. She allotted me some storage space in the first floor/basement of her raised double shotgun (New Orleans version of a duplex which is so named because you can shoot a shotgun through the front door, and the bullett will traverse the house and exit the back door). I recall pessimistically thinking that this might be the last time I would see any of my stuff, my old house on St. Mary, or possibly even some of my friends whose bradaggio is bigger than their brains, as I had the nagging suspicion that a hurricane would hit while I was away, and wipe out the city that I so loved. I hate being right (maybe). . . .

While this post is being written about 24 hours before Katrina will hit, I cannot expunge the thoughts of my "other home" from my worried soul: experiences I have had there (Mardi Gras, Jazz Fest, parties on the street), people I have met (classmates, best friends, lovers found and lost), the sights, sounds, and smells of an eclectic, hip, lost, treasure chest of a city, one that has somehow managed to live and breathe anew with each hurricane that endangered it. Somehow, New Orleans will find a way to survive this one; it has before, and it will again.

New Orleans, I salute you, I miss you and I wish you well my stoic friend.

Inshallah (God Willing),

Craig

Hello all-

Jet lag is now essentially gone. sleep has much improved.

I have started a garden, and planning a compost pile now with the help of our guards.

Magnum, the dog, is settling in well. Since I have been off, we usually make coffee/tea in the AM, and take him for a walk throughout the neighborhood, called Taba. We then run him in our yard at night. Per our new friends Medie and Robbin, Americans from CA who work for HRH, we live in the "yuppie" part of town. While walking through the neighborhood, we get a lot of stares from the locals. I guess walking a dog is not really a thing here. But, we enjoy it nonetheless.

I am still figuring out how to upload pics to this blog from my phone. I guess there is yet another app I have to download to do that. Yes, there is an app for your app for that app! Ugh.

We are off to Karongi (formerly Gisenyi, a name change I will describe later.), which is on Lake Kivu, Northwest of here. In theory, it should be about a 4 hour bus ride. We need some relaxation time before my orientation begins at the hospital next week, and Laura's friend from Uganda arrives next week to work on her orphanage.

Hope all is well back in your neck of the woods. Drop me a line on the reply link if you wish.

Will likely post again sometime on Tuesday evening, internet permitting.

A tout la heur (see you soon),

Craig

20 August-

I am usually somewhat lucky with travel, especially internationally. However, the start to this journey was far from the usual. 

So my journey to Rwanda was supposed to have started on Tuesday, Aug 11, with a 510 pm flight to NYC, then Amsterdam, then Kigali. There were only 1 hour layovers, so it would have been tight, but I had my Birkenstocks on, which would have made barefoot running through the connecting airports a breeze!

On the way to the airport, my Delta app dinged, stating the flight was cancelled. My Mom was driving my car to get used to it (I lent my 2011 Nissan Altima to my parents while I am away, Gulp.) Needless to say a few choice WTF and F-bombs were dropped by both of us. We continued to drive downtown to pick up my Dad from work as I called the Delta agent. She did not seem to understand that my final destination was Rwanda; she was too focused on the earlier parts of the trip. After some gentle coaxing by me, she then rebooked me on a flight for the next day, leaving at 250 pm to Atlanta, then to Amsterdam, then Mt Kilamanjaro, airport, then Kigali.

Well, I should have known more issues would have happened. After a rather productive, and relaxing lagniappe (Cajun for a little something extra) day with the parents, my Mom and I departed again for the airport. No texts this time stating the flight was cancelled, nor was there any bad weather anywhere on my journey. I get to the airport, say my tearful goodbye, and then head in to the check-in counter. Donna, the Delta ticket agent, seemed a little nervous; she seemed new? I arrived at 115 to speak with her. Needless to say we spent some quality time together over the next hour and 10 minutes! Apparently, my passport information on my ticket was incorrect, and her system stated I needed a visa to show her prior to issuing a ticket. I checked in online prior to arriving at the airport, and all of my information was correct online. I showed her emails, documenting to the contrary that I needed a Visa. After multiple phone calls to Delta people, the issue got fixed. I am still not sure what the problem was, but it was fixed. I think the Delta agent that re-booked my ticket made a mistake. So the  relaxing time at Cleveland Hopkins International Airport I had envisioned now became a mad dash to security. So, I have to ask Donna to get me through the TSA security line, VIP-style, and barely board my fight to ATL. Oh yeah, did I mention the $675 in baggage fees I had to pay? (3 of my own, and 2 of Laura’s; luckily this is reimbursable.) They would not give me a break on that. 

I connect to ATL fine, and board with no problem to Amsterdam. I get my seat, and relax for a bit, which then becomes longer than usual. Turns out there was a slight mechanical problem with the luggage bay doors, so that put us back by 20 minutes. I hear the engines start to purr, and think, OK, here we go. Then an announcement crackles over the intercom: "Any medical professional, please report to the back of the plane.” So, I get up, and walk back. There were a few people surrounding an elderly women, who looked out of it and pale. Turned out she had a seizure. I will spare you the remaining details. Needless to day, this delayed us even more. The most important thing was that she was OK. But she refused to get off the plane, stating she was fine, and did not want to be monitored, not be checked out my medical personnel off of the plane. She was heading on the trip of a lifetime to a certain destination in Africa, and was determined to make it. After some coaxing from the Delta staff, she begrudgingly deboarded the plane. Total delay in ATL: 2 hours. Needless to say, no one on that plane was going to be making their flights. 

I got in a few cat naps here and there, enjoyed the good KLM food, watched some quality movies, and made it to Amsterdam relatively intact. They had said Delta had already rebooked our flights. Well, that was not the case. I deboard the plane, and ask the lady in charge where to go to get my new ticket. I saw the long line, and my heart dropped a bit. In addition to the long line, I guess in Amsterdam, if you ask another agent at another booking location for assistance, they walk right up, and cut in front of others. So that took an additional hour. I was able to now get a flight from Amsterdam to Nairobi, Kenya, then a brief stop in Entebbe, Uganda, then Kigali, Rwanda. This would now get me in at 1145 pm.

The next leg from Amsterdam to Nairobi was fairly straight forward, except for the end. They had to re-approach due to being to close to another plane landing, then undershot the landing area, and had to be towed in to the correct location, and then had to reposition the stairs. 

Luckily, the rest of the trip from Nairobi to Uganda to Rwanda was a breeze. I arrive in Rwanda, exhausted, and expecting my luggage to not have made it. Luckily, all 5 pieces were there!

So, here is the comparison of the trips:

Should have been: 26 hours (including time change), 2 stops, leaving Tuesday, arriving at 710 on Wednesday.

Reality: 32 hours, 4 stops, leaving Wednesday, arriving at 1145 pm on Thursday!

The best part of the trip: seeing Laura at the airport, with my driver!

Oh air travel, how you vex me so.

More to come soon (internet signal depending) on life here in Rwanda, and my upcoming work.

Amohoro,

Craig

10 years ago, last week, I departed on my first year-long adventure to Africa. It is truly amazing what else has happened since my first trip, both good and bad. I am a better person for it, and I have learned a lot. I am looking forward to seeing what the next year(s) has in store for me. 

Here is a link to my previous blog: craigermali.blogspot.com.

Much more to come soon. 

Craig