Tuesday 26th February
 My last day in Saikeri was full of goodbyes. As usual, I just felt like I was getting to know what I was doing and it was time to leave. I walked down to the village to say a few farewells, and someone wearing a red shukka in the distance shouted out "Supa Nosim!" (Hello Nosim), I shouted back "Eepa" (the response to supa) without really knowing who it was, but it gave me a bit of a warm glow just knowing that no-one was staring at me any more, I was just the mzungo (white person) from the clinic. We then got taken for a beer in the village bar, rather strangely named "The Honey Pot" , by Maggie's brother William, a softly spoken man with the biggest smile I have ever seen. With no electricity ,we sat in the semi-darkness sipping warm beer as one by one the Maasai locals popped in, all of them shaking my hand, several of them pointing out various wounds that I had dressed for them over the last few weeks - warm beer has never tasted so good.We left as it grew dark,  gasoline lamps flickering inside darkened windows, and the sounds of African music and muted laughter drifting from behind the doors of the corrugated iron shacks that lined the dusty road. It was a moment I will never forget.
Due to a fantastic bit of Kenyan timekeeping, our 0900 pick-up arrived at 1500, so arrived late into Nairobi, ready for Safari the following morning.

Now I'm really really really going to try not to go on too much about Safari, but it's going to be very tricky, as it was simply AMAZING. Everyone talks about the "Big Five" - elephant, buffalo, leopard, rhino and lion. We saw the lot on the first day !!! The leopards are notoriously the hardest to find, hanging out as they do, in trees, and being the fiercest of all the cats. The leopard we found stalked in front of our van, me in the front, with my window open, frozen solid with fear in my seat - I could have reached out and touched it - had I been able to move..... oh I could go on and on and on about how completely wonderful and awe inspiring to drive across the Maasai Mara, spotting girraffes practice fighting while the rest of the herd grazed on impossibly tall trees, while an elephant strolls past in the distance, zebras crossing (sorry !), and to top it all we saw a black rhino. Apparently, in the 350000 acres of the Maasai Mara, there are only 40 black rhinos left, thanks to poaching. The chances of seeing one, are therefore very rare indeed - the last sighting being some five months previously. And we saw one.
To top that we stayed in permanent tent structures with proper beds, electricity, and the best hot shower I have had in a month. We completed each day playing silly card games, drinking COLD beers, and at one point , laughing till I had tears rolling down my face. And to add to the perfect weekend, I found out I had passed my diploma in tropical nursing !
I am going to forget the amount of times I hit my head on the roof of the van, falling over in the van while craning to see an ostrich, and the four hour drive that took nine hours because the bridge had been washed away, but I will remember the frankly fantastic rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody that we regaled our poor driver with on the way home, complete with the "Wayne's World" headbanging.
A few things I will always remember about Kenya - everything, but everything in Maasai land has a thorn attached to it. Great big thorns, little deceptive thorns, even the grass is thorny. Time and distance are elastic, and just when you think you can't fit one more person in the back of a pick-up, another five get in.
So now I have a day here in Nairobi, where most people would probably go shopping, or sightseeing. I, on the other hand, am paying an arm and a leg and having a massage and a facial. Lovely. Then onto Zanzibar and a lovely lie down on Thursday. Probably will put the blog on hold for a while, as I'm sure no-one is interested in me lying down in a hammock for two weeks, so unless something really marvellous happens, I'll be back online when I get home.
Just as an aside, if anyone feel the burning need to comment on any of my posts, or even just to "follow"  so I can see you, strangely enough it is not the "follow" button that needs pressing, but the Google "join this group" icon, which is right at the bottom of the first post. Just in case .......

Wednesday 20th February
The celebration was fun - to get there we set off across the red dust landscape, Zho-Zho, Mama Cass (the home help, who regards Matt and I with the deepest suspicion), Philip, Matt and I, with Laishan, the baby, strapped firmly to Mama Cass's back (her name is not really Mama Cass, it's Mama something else, but we have decided it's definitely Mama Cass...). We could hear the party before we got there, with the sound of singing drifting, as it turned out, UP, over the large cliff we had to negotiate down, in order to get there.... Slipping and sliding away, with squeals of excitement coming from Laishan, we shimmied down the cliff and towards the sound of the singing, until we could make out hundreds of dots of red in the distance, the Maasai men, all wearing their red shukkas  to mark them as stewards, ushering people towards the enormous tubs of rice, choma (barbecued meat) and chapatis. Eating done, it was time for the speeches, then some more speeches, topped off with a few more speeches. At one point a helicopter arrived bearing some important political figure or other, which was overshadowed by what at first appeared to be a small riot breaking out on the other side of the field. Everyone, mid politicians speech, ran from the tent in which he was speaking, to the truck advancing from the other side of the field, shouting and waving their sticks in the air,a sea of red, leaving the poor politician speaking to himself. Slightly alarmed, I of course joined the throng to find out what was going on, only to see a mass of cheering , shouting people running alongside the truck, with my host mum, Maggie, out in front, waving her shawl in the air and whooping.The truck travelled as far as the politician (who was still gamely speaking), complete with crowd. I thought at this point that there was bound to be a bit of trouble, the army boys who had arrived with the politician were sure to get a bit excitable, but to my surprise, the two sides met.......and started singing. A choir appeared from nowhere and joined in, and order was restored. Turns out the chap in the truck was some sort of local hero , a boy barely out of school, who is running for office in the coming election - if the crowd is to be believed there should be no problems getting elected.
Tuesday was clinic, busy as usual as it's market day. We have the saddest little girl I have ever met coming to us daily for injections. She looks to be about nine, and has TB. The usual TB medications are not available here, so she is on a course of intra-muscular injections of a strong antibiotic for sixty days. As we do not have the facilities to administer intra-venous drugs here, the thick, oily substance has to be injected into her tiny little buttock every day. She is such a downcast little thing - she comes up to the house on the weekends for us to continue the course - I gave her injection on Saturday and spent the rest of the day thinking about her and how much she had screamed afterwards. She missed her dose on Monday, so on Tuesday came to clinic in the morning for a dose, then sat mournfully on the steps of the half built building next door all day, intermittently crying, to wait for an evening dose to catch up. She has worn the same torn yellow satin dress since I met her three weeks ago, and if anyone signifies the stark divide between what we can provide here, and what we can provide at home, then this little girl is it.

I now have one more day left here before I go to Nairobi for safari, then on to Zanzibar for some R&R. Everything electrical thing I have is out of battery, my clothes are filthy, my hair really needs a good wash in warm water, and I have been fantasising about cold beer and running water (in that order).


Monday February 18th
We're going to a big celebration in the village today. Cecilia is still in Ngong, so I was going to the clinic this morning to run it with the aid of my trusty interpreter Naomi, until I was firmly informed by Maggie (she who must be obeyed) that it was not opening, and we were to make an effort to dress "Maasai". Matt, my house-mate  was not as enthralled by this as I was, seeing that Maasai men traditionally wear two (short) coloured sheets, hung from opposite shoulders to form a mini dress. a beaded belt, all topped off with a "shukka", a Maasai blanket, usually red tartan, casually slung around the neck. They also have big canes, with a large bobble at the end, to herd cattle, beat down thorny trees, and lean nonchalantly on, looking debonair. Matt is currently agreeing to the shukka....
I am a little bit more fortunate, and have a white top decorated with embroidery and dangly silver bits, and a type of cape - which I am popping in my bag for now - I am definitely walking the middle way again, and am wearing trousers as opposed to a selection of wraps (mainly because I have just not got the hang of tying them properly, and it would be awfully embarrassing to lose them...).
We think the celebration is to honour the new chief of the area, and there seem to be a whole host of dignitaries from all over coming along with some two thousand people (I'm trying not to think about the speeches.....). More importantly, there have been fifty goats and three cows slaughtered, so plenty of yummy barbecued meat .. Needless to say we were told to be ready for eleven, and are now sitting patiently waiting for "maybe twelve, twelve thirty" before we set off.....
Just as an aside, we had plenty of visitors yesterday,including the local Pastor (recognisable on sight by his too-large, shiny suit.) He opened innocently enough , with the usual chit-chat about football, then seamlessly asked if we had heard about Jesus, and did we know the ten commandments... Matt stepped to the fore with "don't lie - that's one isn't it?" which left me in a rather uncomfortable position when asked if I believed in God...... I declined the offer to attend the church as gracefully as I could, swiftly thanking them for their interest and burying myself back in my book. Narrow escape........

Friday 15th February.
Actually did some work this week ! Matt and I sorted out the dispensary storeroom, which took a bit of doing. The Kenyan government sends new supplies of drugs and equipment every three months, regardless of whether anything is needed - hence discovering a microscope (??), an autoclave (?????) and an amazing assortment of other stuff that would be very useful if there was such a thing as electricity, a laboratory (although I could run up a fine thick blood film !), or, for example, NG feed to go with the NG feeding tubes..... The useful stuff, like multivitamin tablets, and HIV tests, were conspicuous by their absence. I am waging a personal war with Cecilia and Naomi. I take the shiny new pedal bin out of the store and put it in the clinic, to replace the rusty bucket we currently use, and Cecilia or Naomi put it back "to keep as it's new". I sneak round the back and put it back, throwing some cotton wool in it to make it look used, the next day it is back in its box in the storeroom....it is war, and I will win ( I just need to adjust my tactics....) .
Some nice well-meaning well-wisher sent some bicycles for the community health workers this week - five shiny "sit up and beg" bikes. Only problem is they all have flat tyres already, there are no pumps and no puncture repair kits. The "roads" here are shocking - rubble and red dust - there is no way they will last more than five minutes. If only someone had actually come here and asked what was really needed instead of coming up with bright ideas that are completely useless  - sorting out a system for getting rainwater to the water butt for the clinic would be of more help - or finishng the incinerator so there is somewhere for the safe disposal of sharps. Both of those would probably have cost about the same.  Added to this, the fact that the Maasai were born upright, walking long distances.....
Had a good day in the clinic today too - have learnt most of the drugs so was able to see two patients at a time, alongside Cecilia -I am trying to walk "the middle way" and am still refusing to give antibiotics to those who clearly have to need for them, but am considerably more free with my Penicillin injectons than before - bearing in mind that it is probably covering a multitude of minor infections.....
Finished work and went to the village to people watch this evening. It was bustling by Saikeri standards. The odd person is dressed in "town clothes" (but usually with a Maasai wrap over the top ), but the majority are in full Maasai regalia, with some glaring incongruities...the elderly lady with layers and layers of wraps, ear lobes nearly touching her shoulders, beads upon beads upon beads round her neck, fumbling around amongst the material, to produce a mobile phone playing the Nokia tune (Oh the temptation is great to shout "I'M IN THE MARKET !!!"). The young Maasai warriors, in ever so short red outfits, with black socks pulled up mid calf and a pair of sensible shoes. Tradition is certainly meeting the modern world here in Maasai land, but it's taking its time.
Heading into Ngong tomorrow to catch up on the internet - and stock up on some treats for my last week here - who knew a chocolate digestive could cause so much anticipation !

Monday February 11th.
Went to Nairobi for the weekend for the "Outreach" program, which involved visiting some projects that our charity is involved with, and the infamous bike ride through Hell's Gate National Park.
The first project we visited was the KCC Slum, about an hours drive from Nairobi. This is managed by an inspirtional man called Marcus, who came here as a volunteer for seven months -  some  three years ago. He now devotes his life to helping the people of the slum fend for themselves. Through his fundraising they have built a schoolroom which now teaches about fifty children, they grow vegetables, and have a women's centre, where the women make jewellery to sell . I think the thing that affected me the most about all the projects we visited was the way the children reacted to us. As we pulled up in the van , everywhere we went, cheers went up and we were mobbed - not for sweets, or pencils, or money, but for hugs, for games, to borrow our sunglasses (then give them back!!), to be swung round and round, to be picked up and squeezed - just to play. Gorgeous smiling upturned faces, "Teacher ! Teacher!" excercise books held aloft to mark their english work "Picture! Picture!" (just so they could check themselves out). After having travelled in Asia, and being pounced on by street kids, knowing my pockets would be emptied, and my hat/sunglasses gone by the end of the game, for these kids to be so innocently asking for nothing more than human contact, was profoundly uplifting.
Hell's Gate was wonderful. We had mountain bikes and cycled over sandy, dusty, rocky roads (me using the three gears which worked), through herds of zebra, girraffe, buffallo and little families of warthogs. I turn into a small child at the sight of wildlife, and kept stopping to clap my hands in delight at each new sighting - bit embarassing really, being the oldest person there ! At the end of the road we dismounted, and hiked through the gorge, which is prone to flash flooding and where seven people lost their lives last year. Handily, there was a tiny sign perched on a rock right at the bottom, saying "beware of flash floods".
We then cycled back, ever so slightly uphill, on the sandy, dusty, rocky roads, me with my three gears. Now I know it wasn't a competition, but I came third - out of thirteen twenty year olds....(not that I was checking....)
We spent the night in the closest thing to a prison I ever hope to experience.. It seemed to be a hotel built entirely from iron, with all the doors clanging shut and secured with an iron bolt, so I felt like someone out of "Porridge". Still - got my own room.....


Monday morning I trotted down to the clinic as usual, to find that I was to be the "Doctor" that morning. - eek ! Cecilia (who I have just found out is not a trained nurse, but is a qualified psychologist -eek again !) was away, and Maggie is on leave, so I had to run the clinic on my own with the help of Naomi, who is the cleaner and helps in the pharmacy.Naomi translated for me, while I furiously winged it....wish I'd done more reading up on paediatrics before I left...thankfully Naomi knew all the doses of the drugs I was prescribing, so between us we got by - I was quite enjoying myself by the end of it, although there was one little boy who I asked to come back the following day  who I am quite worried about - . Some of the mothers were very disappointed that I was not giving their children an injection (for their dry, clear chested, non febrile coughs) but I stayed firm...although I suspect they will be back when I'm not looking.....
In the afternoon we went to a Maasai house-warming , which really put in perspective just how far these people walk to get their injections. Most of the people I had seen that morning had walked from Ormeroi, a small village that must have taken them at least four hours to walk from, in the blistering heat, with a baby on their back.It took us an hour on a "pick-pick" motorbike, "two-up" to get there.
People had come from miles around to get to the party, which involved blessing the house, some lovely African singing, then everyone piling into the little corrugated tin building "to have a look", followed by food (roast goat, chapati and rice - very  tasty) and then interminable speeches (our host Mum, Maggie, said it was the only thing that got on her nerves about Maasai culture - the speeches......)We were travelling back in a small pick-up truck, with wooden benches nailed down each side. This would have (uncomfortably) sat about twelve people. When, after an hour or so, we were approaching twenty I was beginning to think that was the limit, and we were sure to leave soon. Not the case.
It transpired that we needed to take the crates of empty soda bottles back - four of them. So out fifteen people got, in went the crates, then back in got the fifteen, this time perching precariously on top of the crates.Then the speeches ended and another six or so people  arrived, including the incredibly tall and angular Pastor in his suit three times too big for him (this appears to be the Pastor "uniform").Not a chance. So I thought...
So in got the six people, somehow, and surely now it was time to go - this had taken about two hours by now. The driver suddenly arrived, shouted something at the tightly packed (that is putting it extremely mildly) vehicle, and for some reason half the people then began to get out. . Some half an hour later, we eventually set off, only to stop a little way down the road to pick up all the people we had just unpacked. There seemed to be no reason at all for this, the road was no better or worse, but everyone took it in their stride, except my poor house-mate Matt, whose sense of humour was fading rapidly with every suffocating moment. In his defence  he was sandwiched between the "nutter on the bus" and scary rhino lady who kept telling him to keep his hands to himself - a bit tricky when there are ten people between you and your hands. We arrived home in one piece somehow.....

Tuesday 12th February

There are baboons in the garden. Not little baboons, but great big, "I took David Attenborough for a three course meal" baboons. We had been told that monkeys came down the get the scraps in the morning, and had imagined some cute little things scampering about in the garden.Nope - four foot baboons it is.

Tuesday 5th February 2013


Market day in Saikeri. Busiest day of the week in clinic, although we still strolled in at a leisurely ten a.m. Saw women with unwell babies, mostly repiratory infections, and I got to diagnose my first case of "clinical" malaria - "clinical" because  despite the negative spot test, the young lad had all the signs and symptoms, so we treated him anyway. I'm getting to do pretty much as much as I put myself forward for, and the English speaking patients (who are rare) I get to see by myself. It's odd prescribing drugs, then dispensing them  - the whole package .The market was full of brightly coloured ladies selling beads, blankets and "stuff", nattering and catching up with the gossip. I got a chance to see some of the shops - the most enterprising a stall with a generator, where you pay 30 Kenyan shillings and have your appliance charged, while having your hair cut and buying kerosene for your lamp. Pottered down to a tree with my fellow nurse to buy a goat (she did, not me!), then back to shut up shop and wander home with our new guest, Wendy, who is to be my room-mate for the next week. I'm off to Nairobi tomorrow to catch up with the outreach program, which involves visiting the slums, and a long hot bike ride through a park called "Hell's Gate" which doesn't bode well........

Rush Hour......February 4th 2013
So - today was my first day at work. We ambled down to the clinic at about ten a.m. - very civilised.. The walk to work is spectacular - a red, dusty track through sparse thorny undergrowth, interspersed with the ubiquitous Acacia trees. In the distance a small lake glistens, and beyond that an immense range of mountains . We are in The Great Rift Valley, in the village of Saikieri. Scattered about these hills are some 7,000 Maasai people, who walk for miles to come to the nurse-led clinic for a range of ailments. Next door to the blue timber dispensary, is a half built brick and mortar building, which was to be the new improved clinic, until the contractor took the money and fled, over a year ago - and there it sits.

We saw 6 or 7 patients today, ranging from an elderly Maasai lady who thought it hilarious that I was so old and yet had no children, to a shyly beautiful young mother, whose child was really poorly, with a fever and sore throat. Unfortunately I managed to make every child I saw scream in fear of the scary white lady with what must have looked like a painful thing in my hand (the thermometer !)so listening to their chests was not even an option....the stethoscope will have to wait for its first use...
Everyone who came was given antibiotics, after all, as Cecilia (my lovely nurse mentor) pointed out - they've walked a long way, they expect something.
Although I have been well prepared for all of these things , it was still very sad to send the little boy who had been bitten by his brother (boys will be boys) back the 20 kilometres he and his mother had walked, without a tetanus shot, because the gas cylinder that ran the fridge had run out some days ago, and all of the immunisations had to be thrown away.Apparently a new cylinder arrives tomorrow, along with fresh immunisations. Still - long old walk for those two tomorrow....
Tonight the house was full of visitors, colourful older ladies with beads everywhere cackling with delight over the baby (he has just stopped crying at the sight of me), random schoolchildren who ran in giggling, were about to run off again when Zho-Zho's imperious voice called them over - not for a scolding, but for a pat on the head and a sweetie each (Zho-Zho is the all powerful grandma), to the most bizarre visit of the evening - two men, one wearing traditional Maasai clothes complete with big stick, the other in western clothes, very tall, and wearing a Santa hat.
I love it here.