The Shamba Workout

A guy from my youth group asked if he could take me around and show me more of Namboboto.  Yes, absolutely.  What a generous offer.  So on Friday at 4 we met and as we were walking away from town I asked where we were going.  He said something and it didn’t answer my question and clearly we were having communication issues.  I decided to go along with it. 

This experience is so much doing things you would never do in the States.  So I continued to follow.  We first stopped at his house.  He showed me his cattle, pigs, chickens, his maize he had stored for his family to eat until next harvest and the maize he would sell during the off season.   Not everyone plans.  Food gets scarce and prices go up.  This is smart. 

From there we continued walking further in the bush.  Of course now he had a curved blade he was carrying.  Nope, nothing scary or wrong with this picture.  We met his boys along the way taking the animals to graze.  And then we made it to his shamba where he showed me how they water during the dry season.  He has dug trenches from the water source so a stream flows to his crops and he opens and closes mini dams as he wants water.  He walked around uncovering hoses and a machine he has buried because it is too much work to haul it back and forth every 3 days.  So this machine it’s like a stair stepper and it pumps water through a hose with a sprinkler like attachment.  After 5 minutes my legs were feeling the burn.   Who needs a gym, right.   Screw P90X.  

Not many people have machines like these; it’s an invaluable item to have especially during the dry season with no rain for months on end.  We did this for a couple hours and by the end my skirt was soaked from the sprayback.  But I was ok with that.  I felt like a kid playing in a sprinkler.  I wanted to ask if I could bring my shampoo next time.  It’s basically a shower.  And 8 year old Sarah wanted to run home and suit up in beach attire to run, splash, and play (of course, this would be completely inappropriate not only because I am 28).  Who knew watering the crops could be so fun and such a workout at the same time. 

Peace Corps is insane with its highs and lows.  At one point I was taking a break and standing on a hill with a boy behind me with grazing cattle, his father in front of me stair stepping it up to water the crops, and a mama to the side of me throwing water and the sun going down behind her.  

The scenery is breath taking really. I was so high on my life at that point.  Sometimes my life is too amazing I don't know what to do with myself.  It was a ridiculously awesome day and I’ll be going back every Friday from 4 til sunset to work in the shamba or what I will now call my gym. 

As the sun was going down he had his son take me back home with the cattle while he would stay to finish the job.  Again no reason why I shouldn’t trek back through the bush with a ten year old and animals with horns that can spear me.  

The boy walked me back to their home and I am yet to figure out how they find their way anywhere.  I can’t tell one dirt path from the next.  How do you know which tree to turn at or whose back yard you have to traipse through.  So now all I had to do was get myself back home, only a 6 minute walk though this is dependant on the number of people who stop me along the way and how many kids want to play with my hair.  I had taken 5 steps and I was asked where I was going… Namboboto Dispensary.  Dude said he was going that way.  Great you can show me.  He said he knew a short cut.  Which ended up taking forever on tiny paths getting scratched by the brush along the way.  I kept confirming… this leads to Namboboto Dispensery, yes? Ehhhhh.  That means yes in Samia, the local language.  The sun is seriously going down at this point.  I’m getting nervous and planning my escape plan if necessary.  Not that he has given me a reason to need a plan.  You can never be too careful.  And from an Americans perspective this doesn’t seem smart following a stranger further in the bush, I know.  The stranger danger alert is going off in my head.  But it is life here and relying on strangers is sometimes a must.  Though I am almost positive this short cut is not taking me to my home. 

I am for realz lost in the middle of nowhere.  I couldn’t even call any friends for help at that point.  All I had to go by to explain my where abouts was dead crops and fields forever.  Following him was my only option.  We finally made it to one of the main dirt paths where one of my softball girls asks where I’m going.  I say in an unsure tone, home.  She informs me I am going the wrong direction.  Ya, I kinda figured, which is why I kept trying to confirm with my “guide” that he was taking me to the right place.  Nah we were headed to the dispensary in the next town over.   And at that point I nearly panicked.  The sun would be down soon and it isn’t good for me to be wandering the villages at night.  Immediately I was knocked from my high like an American Gladiator knocks their opponent from their pedestal with that thing that looks like an over sized Q-tip.  What’s that thing called?  I don’t know.  I always wanted to duke it out on American Gladiators with Storm and Laser and the crew though.  And they just sucker punched me. 

Thankfully, my softball girl offered to escort me home.  I am lost without roads and cars and street signs and landmarks.  Not really though.  I’m just lost without my TomTom. 

True Story.  

Malaria & a Viral Infection. So that happened.

Ah this past Sunday I took the padlock off my door for the first time in 2 weeks to walk into my hotbox of a home that had empty water bottles, medicine wrappers, dust, and cobwebs all over.  Heck yes, I busted out some sweet ninja warrior moves at every run in with a cobweb.   You know the feeling.  When a web hits your face it’s like instant super powers.  Ok. Enough on that.

So lets back up to say Jan 20^th.  The Peace Corps experience is like a rollercoaster.  This week just so happened to be an up week.  Health clubs, softball practice, meetings, everything was going well.  I was reading some friends comments back home about how Kenya has been treating me well.  And I was like you know what it really has.   I haven’t hardly been sick.  MISTAKE. Not 24 hours later: Boom – Have some malaria and that’s not enough how about we throw in a viral infection. 

So I was doing laundry Friday morning and when I was taking my clothes off the line I became incredibly weak my clothes instantly became 90 lbs. and I needed to sit down.  It wasn’t until Friday night that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt it was malaria.  PC medical told us in training that we would know when/if we had malaria.  True statement. 

We were given a med kit stocked full of meds we might need at some point during our service.  In this kit is a rapid malaria test.  I didn’t drag myself out of bed until Saturday morning to confirm that it was malaria.  I pricked my finger, drew blood, and watched the 2 lines appear indicating what I already knew.  I called PC medical they told me to start the anti- malaria meds and that I would feel better after the first dose.  (It’s 4 pills in the morning.  4 at night for 3 days.)  I didn’t start feeling better until I had taken all 24 pills.  At one point I was on 20 pills a day for different symptoms. 

I had a splitting headache.  I’m almost sure an axe was stuck in my skull.  My back was in excruciating pain like I had never felt before.  I’ve been in a couple car accidents that have messed up my back.  Had nothing on this.  I was drenching my clothes in sweat one minute.  Then the next I was freezing, wrapped in my sleeping bag wearing a sweatshirt, pants, and socks.  None of which I have had to use at my site till now.   (Remember my house is like a sauna…it's free, no club membership necessary.  Come visit.)

My symptoms only got worse and my temperature kept increasing.  When it reached 103 and I wasn’t showing any signs of getting better it was off to the hospital for me.  The first night I spent 5 hours trying to get admitted to the hospital.  I had nearly finished the meds by now when they tested my blood so it was already out of my bloodstream and they told me nothing was wrong with me.  Yes, but I beg to differ.  So I stayed in a hotel room being miserable freezing under 4 blankets with a 103.7 temperature.  (any higher and I was looking at possible seizures, brain damage, etc.) 

PC was going to fly me to Nairobi the next day.  In fact one of the PC med staff was going to fly out to get me but abdominal pain had now joined the unwelcomed guest list and they just wanted to get me in a hospital asap.  So I went back to the hospital that denied me.   After 3 hours of running me back and forth through about 12 steps they admitted me.  I was sitting with one of the drs when she was on the phone talking to another dr. telling him she was admitting me because I was Caucasian.  Really!?  Cause that didn’t work for me last night. 

While I was waiting in the waiting area there were no seats so a nurse came over to tell everyone to scoot over and share seats so I could sit down.  Awesome even hospitals do it matatu style.  (You may remember me writing about how they pack in 30 people in a 14 passenger vehicle.)  Cool lets have all the sick people sit on top of one another coughing all over each other.   This seems good.  They called me back to put in my IV line and by this point I was feeling pretty ill.  The nurse asked me why I was looking like that.  Seriously, do I need to explain?  I nearly puked all over the place.  She gave me a bowl to carry around just in case.  

I was put in a room with 6 other women who would randomly peek behind my curtain to wave at the white girl.  A nurse stopped by to ask if I wanted anything to eat.   (I have no idea what Kenyan hospital food would be.)  I hadn’t been able to eat since I was sick but I kept trying.  I asked her what my options were and she said no, you tell me what you want and I’ll get it.   Um, so in that case a brownie sundae and BBQ.  She brought me chicken and terrible rice.   I looked down at my hospital bracelet to see that it was a baby bracelet and latched on the very last hole giving no room between the bracelet and my wrist.  

The next night I was in a private room but my bed was angled like a ski slope so I woke up with a stiff neck and kept falling to the foot of the bed.  The food was endless (which they kept being surprised when I hardly took a stab at it…people can we remember I don’t feel well.  You know the whole hospital thing and all.)  I also got fruit baskets with fruit I had no idea how to eat or even which part to eat.  When I first moved into that room they brought me my own salt and peppershakers.  Living fancy.  You got nothing on me with your hospital stay Beyonce.  The next morning the IV had made my wrist and hand swell up causing the baby bracelet to cut into my skin.  Luckily, I was able to leave to get to Nairobi so PC could have a go at me before the hospital had a chance to balloon up my remaining hand. 

I ended up staying in Nairobi for a week and a half while they monitored me and ran blood tests every other day.   My liver was over functioning and a few other things were high but after 2 weeks of labs, check ups, and resting I was able to come home.  My stats have gone back to normal.  I’m still a little weak and my appetite hasn’t fully returned but I’m getting there.  I was pretty miserable but I got spoiled with people serving me food, running water (showers, a real toilet) rooms that don’t feel like I’m in an oven, and uninterrupted sleep with no one banging on my door. 

Let’s back up one more time to Jan. 1.  A fellow PCV and I have been in search of a decent cheeseburger.  I have had 4 and none have been slightly good, but we finally found one in Nairobi.  We were passing through to get back to our sites.  Nairobi is off limits to us except for medical reasons.  So we were discussing how we could get "medical" trips to come to Nairobi to eat real food.  I didn’t realize what I was asking for and the worst part I didn’t have an appetite my entire stay.  I never got to order that bacon cheeseburger that I’ve been dreaming about ever since I found it a month ago.   I know I know little violins are playing. 

By the time PC was done with me I had been stuck with needles about 10 times.  Also everyone always has a hard time finding my veins.  So it’s a search and find but with all the blood work to get here and shots I’m used to it by now.  At one point I had 6 jabs in my left hand.  I played connect the dots and made a dinosaur. 

It was tough being that sick and away from the people that love me but I kept hearing about how many people were praying for my recovery and keeping up with the updates on how I was doing.  Even people I have no idea who they are.  I was told one guy after finding out called 33 people.  The love was felt from afar.  Thank you for that. 

I also had a number of great PC friends visit me at all of my medical stops along the way.  In my worst hours I couldn’t help but question how long I would let Africa beat me up.  You may remember back in 2009, I came back from Uganda with a viral infection that turned to pericarditis.  That wasn’t fun but I remember saying then that it wasn’t gonna stop me from returning.  Malaria is mean and viral infections hate me but this won’t stop me from staying.

So this is how you wanna play 2012.  I like a good challenge.  Lets go. 

That was too long.  I’m done.  


Except I'm not.  Side note: People have been worried that I haven't been eating for 2 weeks that I'm losing weight.  Yes, indeed I have lost 5 pounds.  But no worries somehow I have gained 18 since being here.  Crazy right.  I try to gain forever in the States and can't, but move to a place that is lacking food.  Sure, makes perfect sense.


Last thing:  World Malaria Day is April 25th.  More on Malaria in a couple months.