In this remote area, there are few things available to purchase. That includes food and materials or supplies of any kind. When goats are plentiful, it might be possible to purchase one to slaughter, but there are times when no one will part with a single goat. Chickens are not commonly available, though occasionally a single chicken can be had for a price. It's possible to buy onions at inflated prices, and sometimes you will see a child in the central village with a few recycled plastic water bottles filled with cooking oil for sale. The bottles standing on a small piece of square cloth, the eight or ten-year-old child, if lucky, is sitting on a plastic chair, and often holding a toddler. Occasionally you might find a man with a table set up in front of his tukul selling batteries and a pot or two, or some other random useful things. Perhaps some iron sheet left over from a finished or abandoned project, timbers, firewood. As the rainy season drags on, most of these entrepreneurs have closed shop, the inventory depleted.
We've had a problem getting firewood. We purchase it daily as it becomes available.There is no firewood shop with a large supply. The last two days there has been no morning tea until after the girls have left for school, and meals have been delayed because we haven't found anyone with firewood to sell. There's been a lot of water already this rainy season, and the water makes it more difficult to retrieve. It's collected in the bush by women and carried to the village by women. Only women do this job. The grasses are often knee high, but some are taller than a man. Recent flooding makes it hard to navigate, and has turned the mosquitos into a plague. The malaria-carrying mosquitos in this area are the tiniest of insects - almost as small as "no-see-ums." They don't make an audible buzzing sound, and you can't feel the bite, so they're treacherous.
As we consider our building plans for our kitchen and dining complex, we are investigating alternative cooking methods that would reduce our reliance on the scarce supply of firewood, and which would give our cooks a way to cook without inhaling smoke all day long. The clinic has a new propane stove that they bought in Juba last February, but there was no propane in Juba, so the propane just arrived three days ago on an AIM Air flight from Nairobi.
We are growing some of our own vegetables and over time expect to grow more food on our compound and on land outside the compound - maize, groundnuts, kudra, kale, tomatoes, cabbage, onions and others. Our supplies, building materials, and bulk food - the rice, the maize and wheat flour, sugar, salt, cooking oil, beans, lentils, milk powder, powdered juices, tomato and chili sauce (believe me, chili sauce really improves a daily diet of beans and rice), and occasional pasta or other foods - all this comes from Bor, the capitol of Jonglei, which is a five-hour drive (about 90 miles) or from Juba, the capitol of South Sudan, which is a nine-hour drive from the village (about 125 miles). Prices are much cheaper in Juba, than in Bor, and much cheaper in Nairobi than in Juba, but we must pay the cost to transport in each of these cases - by air or by land.
For as much as six months of the year, (June through December) the nearby roads that serve Duk Payuel are flooded and impassable by trucks and four-wheel drives. Sometimes a tractor can make it through. There are a couple of tractors in Duk, but currently no one available to drive them.
Anything we don't have we must fly in from Nairobi through AIM Air, the mission group that flies into this remote area. The JDF Lost Boys Clinic is in the same situation, so we often share cargo and passenger space and cost on those flights.
The logistics of getting a plane here for ASAH whether for passengers or for cargo requires tremendous coordination and cooperation between several groups. First I start with Tim or Caroline, the AIM Air schedulers, and Josh Gwinn, the JDF Clinic Manager. The first question if our cargo is light is - are there any AIM planes in the area between this date and that date that ASAH can join? Sometimes there is another group going to Juba or to Bor or some place in the vicinity, and they can make a trip to Duk Payuel to drop off or pick up a passenger. In that case, we pay for the seat and the weight of the cargo.
Now that the ASAH School for Orphan Girls is open with girls and staff living onsite, we have an increased need for regular service. Just now we are trying to lay in a basic supply of foodstuffs to last through December, but we will need to supplement with some fresh foods over the coming months.
Incoming on this trip ASAH chartered the AIM flight. We are generally allowed 1000 kg of passenger and cargo weights on the Caravan, and 400 kg on the C206. It turned out that JDF had some clinic staff that had been on leave who were ready to return, so ASAH hired the Caravan with JDF paying for their seats as we had to leave some cargo behind, though some of that cargo arrived on a JDF charter two weeks later.
I write this now from Lokichoggio, Kenya, at the Hotel California where our ASAH team stayed in 2007 on our stopover between Nairobi and Duk when we made the documentary. The AIM plane that picked me up was an ASAH charter filled with 1000 kg of cargo -- the things left behind on my first flight plus timbers, iron sheet, and beds and mattresses for the four new girls who will be joining us from Patuenoi in mid-July.
On the plane with me was Lillian, the clinic midwife, returning to Kenya, and our two Kenyan mason/maintenance crew who flew as far as Juba. They are going to visit their families in Kenya for a couple of weeks, and then returning to Duk. Our AIM pilot, Brian, a third-generation missionary pilot, will be returning with his family to Sioux Falls, SD, his wife's hometown in September for about four months to raise the money for his salary for the coming year.
Tomorrow morning we're on to Nairobi.
Showing posts with label AIM Air. Show all posts
Showing posts with label AIM Air. Show all posts
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Arrival in Duk - Monday June 11
Up at 4:30 am for 5:30 loading of the van with ten pieces of luggage from the Mayfield container. At AIM Air I learned they already had 900 kg from Jeti's purchases on our behalf - food and some building supplies, beds and mattresses - and I had 276 kg with me. The Caravan can carry 1000 kg, and we also had passengers in addition to me: two clinic staff: Lillian, a midwife, and David, a lab technician. Prioritizing: I decided to leave behind the beds and mattresses.They're heavy and bulky. After referring to my content list. I list the contents for each bag or tote as I pack and indicate priority items. From here it's the pilot's decision. We had to leave a container of oil, a bag of potatoes, and a bag of beans to accommodate the luggage for Lillian and David.
Nate is our pilot, a young guy I've flown with before. It took a long time for customs to clear all our bags. We finally got off the ground about 8. Now at 9:20, we are arriving in Eldoret, Kenya to refuel. Then on to Juba, the capitol, where we must go through immigration for our Visas.
We were not able to pull up as close to the airport in Juba as in the past, but we arrived when no other larger planes were on the ground, so there was no wait at immigration. We caught a ride to the terminal and back with one of the airport crew, then $100 a pop for a single entry Visa to Republic of South Sudan. No multi-entry visas available.
The Lost Boys Clinic staff had reported to me that the airstrip was flooded on Friday, but they were working to drain it. Part of a dike had given way. Though it is the rainy season, this is about two months early for the type of flooding they are experiencing.
The strip was nice and clear for our landing, and there was a huge crowd to greet us. Our girls in their red uniforms stood together waving. Many people assisted in unloading our heavy cargo. Most of my bags were 50 + pounds, and we also had 50 kg bags of beans, potatoes and other foodstuffs. The bigger problem was how to get it all to our site. Even if there was a working vehicle in the village, which there is not, the roads are flooded ankle to knee deep - impassable by car.
If you saw our girls heft these huge bags on their heads, some of them walking without even a hand held to steady the bag, you wouldn't believe it. I've seen it many times, but it always amazes me. And they can carry these heavy loads a great distance. The walk to our site from the airstrip takes about 20 minutes through the water. I didn't even have to carry my backpack as it was spirited off my back and onto Akuol's, one of our ASAH girls.
Nate is our pilot, a young guy I've flown with before. It took a long time for customs to clear all our bags. We finally got off the ground about 8. Now at 9:20, we are arriving in Eldoret, Kenya to refuel. Then on to Juba, the capitol, where we must go through immigration for our Visas.
We were not able to pull up as close to the airport in Juba as in the past, but we arrived when no other larger planes were on the ground, so there was no wait at immigration. We caught a ride to the terminal and back with one of the airport crew, then $100 a pop for a single entry Visa to Republic of South Sudan. No multi-entry visas available.
The Lost Boys Clinic staff had reported to me that the airstrip was flooded on Friday, but they were working to drain it. Part of a dike had given way. Though it is the rainy season, this is about two months early for the type of flooding they are experiencing.
The strip was nice and clear for our landing, and there was a huge crowd to greet us. Our girls in their red uniforms stood together waving. Many people assisted in unloading our heavy cargo. Most of my bags were 50 + pounds, and we also had 50 kg bags of beans, potatoes and other foodstuffs. The bigger problem was how to get it all to our site. Even if there was a working vehicle in the village, which there is not, the roads are flooded ankle to knee deep - impassable by car.
If you saw our girls heft these huge bags on their heads, some of them walking without even a hand held to steady the bag, you wouldn't believe it. I've seen it many times, but it always amazes me. And they can carry these heavy loads a great distance. The walk to our site from the airstrip takes about 20 minutes through the water. I didn't even have to carry my backpack as it was spirited off my back and onto Akuol's, one of our ASAH girls.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Throwing Out Best Laid Plans
March 5, 2012
The plan was: Leave Fargo March 1. Arrive Nairobi late evening March 2. Fly with AIM Air to Duk Payuel on the 3rd. Move into the ASAH Boarding School for Orphan Girls and help orient the first twelve ASAH girls into the place they will call home during the school terms. Stay until the 16th and fly with AIM to Juba, where I will stay for a week with Manyok to procure materials and supplies for our compound, and the Maras and Jef will fly JETLINK to Nairobi.
Soon enough it became clear that if we wanted the ASAH girls to move in while we were present, Manyok and I needed to go NOW to Juba to procure the materials to fix the water tower. If you watched our exciting video of the raising of the tower, you know that I left Duk Payuel expecting that very soon we would have functioning toilets and showers. It was not to be. The steel tube platform on top of the tower had been welded with the four -inch side of the 2 X 4 inch tubes laying flat instead of skinny side up, which offers greater strength. When our tank was filled with water, the tubes began to bend. The tank was taken down. It still provides water but is not at a height to provide water pressure to run the toilets and showers.
As it seems to go, as the need arises, opportunity presents itself. IMA World Health, the new medical group that may or may not take over the neighboring NGO compound now being vacated by IRD, had a car traveling to Bor, the capitol of Jonglei state. This is about 125 miles, I believe, though the drive takes five or more hours. I'm not sure that 125 miles is an accurate measurement, but that is what people have told me, and it seems about right. The road conditions are so bad, the vehicle is sometimes traveling at only 10 or 20 km per hour. This is the kind of ride where the handles above the doors and on the dash are held.
When I asked Mike Wagner, former JDF clinic manager, if we could hitch a ride—he said, "Are you willing to sit in the back?" As it turned out, I shared the middle seat with two men, and Manyok sat with the luggage and a Sudanese woman on the bench seats in the back of the Land Cruiser.
During the long and rough ride, I got to know Kon, one of the clinic staff, a little better. He's a quiet guy amongst a lot of boisterous Sudanese at the JDF clinic, so we hadn't talked much in the past.
My other seatmate, Jacob Nuer Deng, who works for IMA World Health in Juba, asked me where I lived in the US. When I said "Fargo," he said, "My sister lives in Fargo." "Who's your sister?" "Sarah Deng." "I KNOW Sarah," I said. "She spoke at our Get Your Panties in a Bunch Lunch in 2011, and she attends Christ the King Lutheran Church in Moorhead which is currently raising money so that we can bring more girls into our program."
You don't know how small the world really is until you meet someone new in South Sudan whose sister lives in your community in the United States—especially when the community is the size of Fargo-Moorhead. Miriam remarked that it's strangely comforting, and I agree.
We had intended to get hotel rooms and fly in the morning, but Kon was planning to get public transport. He was on his way to visit his wife in Juba. We elected to share the cost of a taxi and keep going.
The road from Bor to Juba is longer—about 153 miles, according to a Google search—but somewhat faster at around four hours. Improved in some stretches, undergoing construction in others, but still potholed and difficult to navigate in places. We had to pull over at a bridge near Juba as a convoy of about 100 military vehicles crossed the one-lane bridge. They were part of a deployment of 150,000 soldiers heading to Jonglei state to begin disarming the tribes, to reduce the tribal violence, particularly between the Murle and the Nuer tribes, that has plagued parts of the state since independence, causing deaths and destruction of villages.
The plan was: Leave Fargo March 1. Arrive Nairobi late evening March 2. Fly with AIM Air to Duk Payuel on the 3rd. Move into the ASAH Boarding School for Orphan Girls and help orient the first twelve ASAH girls into the place they will call home during the school terms. Stay until the 16th and fly with AIM to Juba, where I will stay for a week with Manyok to procure materials and supplies for our compound, and the Maras and Jef will fly JETLINK to Nairobi.
Soon enough it became clear that if we wanted the ASAH girls to move in while we were present, Manyok and I needed to go NOW to Juba to procure the materials to fix the water tower. If you watched our exciting video of the raising of the tower, you know that I left Duk Payuel expecting that very soon we would have functioning toilets and showers. It was not to be. The steel tube platform on top of the tower had been welded with the four -inch side of the 2 X 4 inch tubes laying flat instead of skinny side up, which offers greater strength. When our tank was filled with water, the tubes began to bend. The tank was taken down. It still provides water but is not at a height to provide water pressure to run the toilets and showers.
As it seems to go, as the need arises, opportunity presents itself. IMA World Health, the new medical group that may or may not take over the neighboring NGO compound now being vacated by IRD, had a car traveling to Bor, the capitol of Jonglei state. This is about 125 miles, I believe, though the drive takes five or more hours. I'm not sure that 125 miles is an accurate measurement, but that is what people have told me, and it seems about right. The road conditions are so bad, the vehicle is sometimes traveling at only 10 or 20 km per hour. This is the kind of ride where the handles above the doors and on the dash are held.
When I asked Mike Wagner, former JDF clinic manager, if we could hitch a ride—he said, "Are you willing to sit in the back?" As it turned out, I shared the middle seat with two men, and Manyok sat with the luggage and a Sudanese woman on the bench seats in the back of the Land Cruiser.
During the long and rough ride, I got to know Kon, one of the clinic staff, a little better. He's a quiet guy amongst a lot of boisterous Sudanese at the JDF clinic, so we hadn't talked much in the past.
My other seatmate, Jacob Nuer Deng, who works for IMA World Health in Juba, asked me where I lived in the US. When I said "Fargo," he said, "My sister lives in Fargo." "Who's your sister?" "Sarah Deng." "I KNOW Sarah," I said. "She spoke at our Get Your Panties in a Bunch Lunch in 2011, and she attends Christ the King Lutheran Church in Moorhead which is currently raising money so that we can bring more girls into our program."
You don't know how small the world really is until you meet someone new in South Sudan whose sister lives in your community in the United States—especially when the community is the size of Fargo-Moorhead. Miriam remarked that it's strangely comforting, and I agree.
We had intended to get hotel rooms and fly in the morning, but Kon was planning to get public transport. He was on his way to visit his wife in Juba. We elected to share the cost of a taxi and keep going.
The road from Bor to Juba is longer—about 153 miles, according to a Google search—but somewhat faster at around four hours. Improved in some stretches, undergoing construction in others, but still potholed and difficult to navigate in places. We had to pull over at a bridge near Juba as a convoy of about 100 military vehicles crossed the one-lane bridge. They were part of a deployment of 150,000 soldiers heading to Jonglei state to begin disarming the tribes, to reduce the tribal violence, particularly between the Murle and the Nuer tribes, that has plagued parts of the state since independence, causing deaths and destruction of villages.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
The Journey Begins
March 1- 2, 2012
Jef Foss, ASAH board member and architect, and I began our journey to Duk Payuel on March 1st, leaving Fargo on Delta airlines at one pm. Once again, Delta's service proved both charitable and helpful, allowing us to check 15 bags of supplies for the ASAH Home and School for Girls including the panties and washable sanitary pads donated to us at our recent "Get Your Panties in a Bunch" lunch in Fargo. These panties and pads will be distribute through the school in Duk Payuel and to neighboring communities as well.
We flew Fargo to Minneapolis; Minneapolis to Amsterdam; Amsterdam to Nairobi. Nearly 24 hours later with an eight-hour shift in time we arrived at Jomo Kenyatta. At 9 pm local time, we proceeded to immigration for our transit visas—available instantly at the airport, retrieved all 15 bags and headed toward customs at the exit. The agents asked a few questions about the contents and destination of the bags and waived us through.
The driver took us to Mayfield Guest House run by Africa Inland Missions, a mission organization that flies religious and humanitarian groups into remote areas with inadequate or unsafe roads like Duk Payuel, South Sudan. Jef was to share a room with another guest, who was already in bed for the night. We stay at Mayfield on most of our trips through Nairobi, and they are often bustling with missionaries and their families and others working on projects in South Sudan and Kenya. When they are full, they ask if we are willing to share rooms.
At Mayfield I saw Samuel, one of the drivers I met on an earlier trip. Samuel procured Moringa (Olifera) seeds for us to plant at the ASAH Home and School for Girls. The plant has tremendous nutritional and medicinal value. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moringa_oleifera
From Mayfield, the driver drove me down the street to the Fairview, where Andrew and Miriam Mara, NDSU professors in Nairobi on sabbatical, are staying. Andrew and Miriam sponsor two of our Sudanese students in boarding school in Kenya. They had invited me to stay in the guest bedroom in their apartment. We all rose before dawn to travel to Wilson Airport by 6:30 am for our flight to Duk Payuel.
Jef Foss, ASAH board member and architect, and I began our journey to Duk Payuel on March 1st, leaving Fargo on Delta airlines at one pm. Once again, Delta's service proved both charitable and helpful, allowing us to check 15 bags of supplies for the ASAH Home and School for Girls including the panties and washable sanitary pads donated to us at our recent "Get Your Panties in a Bunch" lunch in Fargo. These panties and pads will be distribute through the school in Duk Payuel and to neighboring communities as well.
We flew Fargo to Minneapolis; Minneapolis to Amsterdam; Amsterdam to Nairobi. Nearly 24 hours later with an eight-hour shift in time we arrived at Jomo Kenyatta. At 9 pm local time, we proceeded to immigration for our transit visas—available instantly at the airport, retrieved all 15 bags and headed toward customs at the exit. The agents asked a few questions about the contents and destination of the bags and waived us through.
The driver took us to Mayfield Guest House run by Africa Inland Missions, a mission organization that flies religious and humanitarian groups into remote areas with inadequate or unsafe roads like Duk Payuel, South Sudan. Jef was to share a room with another guest, who was already in bed for the night. We stay at Mayfield on most of our trips through Nairobi, and they are often bustling with missionaries and their families and others working on projects in South Sudan and Kenya. When they are full, they ask if we are willing to share rooms.
At Mayfield I saw Samuel, one of the drivers I met on an earlier trip. Samuel procured Moringa (Olifera) seeds for us to plant at the ASAH Home and School for Girls. The plant has tremendous nutritional and medicinal value. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moringa_oleifera
From Mayfield, the driver drove me down the street to the Fairview, where Andrew and Miriam Mara, NDSU professors in Nairobi on sabbatical, are staying. Andrew and Miriam sponsor two of our Sudanese students in boarding school in Kenya. They had invited me to stay in the guest bedroom in their apartment. We all rose before dawn to travel to Wilson Airport by 6:30 am for our flight to Duk Payuel.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Let There Be Water
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Even before the local villagers finished digging the long trench from IRD's compound to ours, we had water running out of a faucet on our site. A real faucet! That means we don't need laborers to haul water from the well, and Tabitha can cook for the men without hauling water as well. You can imagine what a miracle that is. Today, the doors of the toilet and shower stalls are framed and the roof framework is in place.
Our program director, Manyok, and I went to IRD, the adjacent NGO site to get Maduk the carpenter/welder who has been (slowly) building our fence. Maduk will be welding the elevation structure for our 5000 liter water tank and the pedestrian and vehicle gates, and we needed him to let us know what additional materials are needed to complete the work.
It isn't like you can walk down the street to Ace Hardware. The closest location is Bor: four or five hours by car because of the terrible road conditions, three days by footing if you are walking through flooded land, about a half hour by plane. Right now, though the heavy September flooding has receded, the last leg of the journey to Duk from Bor is still too wet for road travel. We are hoping one of the AIM flights coming to Duk this week can land and then return to Bor to pick up the necessary materials so they will be here when the crew needs them. The coordination of these mission flights is complicated as they must calculate weights, fuel loads, and as there are no lights on these landing fields, there is no flying after dark. AIM doesn't work on the weekends, so it will be Monday before I will hear from them.
Too much sun for me today. When I returned to the clinic I was a bit dehydrated in spite of drinking water. One doesn't have to pee much here because you lose the water sweating.
Six of our 11 girls stopped by to hang around. Since they don't speak English, our relations are a little awkward. I brought a puzzle of Africa—each country on the continent is a separate piece, and the outline of the pieces shows on the puzzle when the pieces are out. This was the first puzzle they had ever seen, and it was interesting watching the girls try to fit round pegs in square holes, something US children are exposed to at young ages. I drew their attention to a couple of pieces, pointing out the angles and shapes and gesturing for them to find that on the puzzle.
After that we shared the universal language—food. I gave them each a banana encouraging them to eat them now, but they insisted on taking them home, probably to share with their families.
Fresh fruits and vegetables are a rarity in the village. There are coconut trees all around and many growing on our site. I'm told the fruit begins to ripen in January and coconuts are available through March. Moses tells me that the British coconut trees were planted by the British. Other fruit trees will grow here, but there aren't any in the village now. We will plant mango trees on our site with the seeds from the mangos I brought to share with our girls and the clinic staff.
Even before the local villagers finished digging the long trench from IRD's compound to ours, we had water running out of a faucet on our site. A real faucet! That means we don't need laborers to haul water from the well, and Tabitha can cook for the men without hauling water as well. You can imagine what a miracle that is. Today, the doors of the toilet and shower stalls are framed and the roof framework is in place.
Our program director, Manyok, and I went to IRD, the adjacent NGO site to get Maduk the carpenter/welder who has been (slowly) building our fence. Maduk will be welding the elevation structure for our 5000 liter water tank and the pedestrian and vehicle gates, and we needed him to let us know what additional materials are needed to complete the work.
It isn't like you can walk down the street to Ace Hardware. The closest location is Bor: four or five hours by car because of the terrible road conditions, three days by footing if you are walking through flooded land, about a half hour by plane. Right now, though the heavy September flooding has receded, the last leg of the journey to Duk from Bor is still too wet for road travel. We are hoping one of the AIM flights coming to Duk this week can land and then return to Bor to pick up the necessary materials so they will be here when the crew needs them. The coordination of these mission flights is complicated as they must calculate weights, fuel loads, and as there are no lights on these landing fields, there is no flying after dark. AIM doesn't work on the weekends, so it will be Monday before I will hear from them.
Too much sun for me today. When I returned to the clinic I was a bit dehydrated in spite of drinking water. One doesn't have to pee much here because you lose the water sweating.
Six of our 11 girls stopped by to hang around. Since they don't speak English, our relations are a little awkward. I brought a puzzle of Africa—each country on the continent is a separate piece, and the outline of the pieces shows on the puzzle when the pieces are out. This was the first puzzle they had ever seen, and it was interesting watching the girls try to fit round pegs in square holes, something US children are exposed to at young ages. I drew their attention to a couple of pieces, pointing out the angles and shapes and gesturing for them to find that on the puzzle.
After that we shared the universal language—food. I gave them each a banana encouraging them to eat them now, but they insisted on taking them home, probably to share with their families.
Fresh fruits and vegetables are a rarity in the village. There are coconut trees all around and many growing on our site. I'm told the fruit begins to ripen in January and coconuts are available through March. Moses tells me that the British coconut trees were planted by the British. Other fruit trees will grow here, but there aren't any in the village now. We will plant mango trees on our site with the seeds from the mangos I brought to share with our girls and the clinic staff.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Traveling on AIM Air
December 1, 2011
Moses and I arrived at Wilson Airport in Nairobi at 6:30 am. Outside we met our favorite pilot, Jon Hildebrandt, and his family. Jef Foss and I stayed in their guest house last spring because we couldn't catch a flight to Nairobi that day.
His wife and two children would be flying with us, but Jon had to fly commercially as our cargo was heavy. Including passengers, we're allowed 1000 kg on the caravan. Our heaviest item, a 3' diameter spool of underground cable was too heavy for AIM's scale. To accommodate our cargo without leaving too much behind the plane loaded only enough fuel to get to Eldoret. We landed, refueled enough to get to Loki, landed, and went through immigration AGAIN even though we hadn't left the country, THEN we flew to Juba. Now that the country is independent, all the flights have to go through immigration instead of landing directly in villages. So we stopped again, had the visas stamped, and then we flew to Duk Payuel.
The poor pilot wasn't done. He had to fly to Pieri to refuel for the morning. Then he returned to the village and stayed with all of us at the clinic. In the early morning he took several sick passengers to the hospital in Bor, picked up our electrician, two plumbers and additional materials, flew back to Duk to drop them off and then on to the rest of his day: the life of an AIM Air mission pilot.
We were greeted as usual by an entourage of children, villagers, clinic staff, and now our ASAH girls were waiting, too, wearing their hot pink t-shirts.
There are three vehicles in the village. None are in working order, so our bigger girls carried duffle bags on their heads—each weighing 50 to 60 pounds. The smaller girls carried other items on their heads. Boys typically carry things on their backs or shoulders, though a few of them did the head carry. It took many people to bring our cargo to our storage at the school, the clinic and the site, walking in hot afternoon sun, for 15 to 30 minutes with heavy loads.
Moses and I arrived at Wilson Airport in Nairobi at 6:30 am. Outside we met our favorite pilot, Jon Hildebrandt, and his family. Jef Foss and I stayed in their guest house last spring because we couldn't catch a flight to Nairobi that day.
His wife and two children would be flying with us, but Jon had to fly commercially as our cargo was heavy. Including passengers, we're allowed 1000 kg on the caravan. Our heaviest item, a 3' diameter spool of underground cable was too heavy for AIM's scale. To accommodate our cargo without leaving too much behind the plane loaded only enough fuel to get to Eldoret. We landed, refueled enough to get to Loki, landed, and went through immigration AGAIN even though we hadn't left the country, THEN we flew to Juba. Now that the country is independent, all the flights have to go through immigration instead of landing directly in villages. So we stopped again, had the visas stamped, and then we flew to Duk Payuel.
The poor pilot wasn't done. He had to fly to Pieri to refuel for the morning. Then he returned to the village and stayed with all of us at the clinic. In the early morning he took several sick passengers to the hospital in Bor, picked up our electrician, two plumbers and additional materials, flew back to Duk to drop them off and then on to the rest of his day: the life of an AIM Air mission pilot.
We were greeted as usual by an entourage of children, villagers, clinic staff, and now our ASAH girls were waiting, too, wearing their hot pink t-shirts.
There are three vehicles in the village. None are in working order, so our bigger girls carried duffle bags on their heads—each weighing 50 to 60 pounds. The smaller girls carried other items on their heads. Boys typically carry things on their backs or shoulders, though a few of them did the head carry. It took many people to bring our cargo to our storage at the school, the clinic and the site, walking in hot afternoon sun, for 15 to 30 minutes with heavy loads.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Kenya--November 26-November 30
Ron Saeger spent nearly a month in Kenya with our nine Kenyan students—Moses, John, Joseph, Michael, James, Simon, Abraham, Deborah, and Sarah. They go to six different schools in Nakuru, Kenya. There is much to do when a school year ends, and Ron took care of them with much help from Moses, who just finished Form 4 and is now a high school graduate.
All the kids did well in school—James is top of his class, competing against Kenyan native students; Deborah was fourth in her first year of secondary school. New to our program and fresh from Kakuma Refugee camp schools, which are very inadequate, she had completed only two terms of the previous year in grade eight. We suggested she repeat because though she improved greatly over the two terms, her final test scores weren't high. The scores determine what type of high school she can attend. She refused and told us she could do it. Shiners High School, a sister school to Roots Academy, her primary school, accepted her and she proved us wrong. We're happy to be wrong.
I arrived in Kenya on November 26 and met them Ron and the kids at Mayfield Guest House, owned by AIM Air. James was absent--he chose a Scouting trip over Nairobi The guests here are all missionaries or other humanitarian workers. The dormitory-style housing is simple, the food served family-style. On every stay we meet interesting people doing good work in South Sudan and Kenya.
Except for Moses, none of our students had been to Nairobi before, That didn't stop the older boys from taking off to explore on their own. With them, we visited a baby elephant orphanage and a giraffe center, and on a day when I was away, Ron treated them to their first movie in a theater. They saw "Happy Feet."
All the kids did well in school—James is top of his class, competing against Kenyan native students; Deborah was fourth in her first year of secondary school. New to our program and fresh from Kakuma Refugee camp schools, which are very inadequate, she had completed only two terms of the previous year in grade eight. We suggested she repeat because though she improved greatly over the two terms, her final test scores weren't high. The scores determine what type of high school she can attend. She refused and told us she could do it. Shiners High School, a sister school to Roots Academy, her primary school, accepted her and she proved us wrong. We're happy to be wrong.
I arrived in Kenya on November 26 and met them Ron and the kids at Mayfield Guest House, owned by AIM Air. James was absent--he chose a Scouting trip over Nairobi The guests here are all missionaries or other humanitarian workers. The dormitory-style housing is simple, the food served family-style. On every stay we meet interesting people doing good work in South Sudan and Kenya.
Except for Moses, none of our students had been to Nairobi before, That didn't stop the older boys from taking off to explore on their own. With them, we visited a baby elephant orphanage and a giraffe center, and on a day when I was away, Ron treated them to their first movie in a theater. They saw "Happy Feet."
Sunday, November 27, 2011
In Nairobi with our Kenya Kids
I'm giving thanks for the opportunity to share Thanksgiving dinner with my husband and about half my children and grandchildren at our son Adrian's house last Thursday, since I left the following day for Nairobi--about 23 hours of traveling. Once again, Delta came through for us, letting me check seven bags of underwear, sanitary napkins, clothing and other supplies for the ASAH Home and School for girls at no charge.
Two weeks earlier, I went with Board member Ron Saeger to see if they would allow him the same. When we arrived at the counter, the two agents said, "oh, we know you. It's no problem." Their support of our program allows us to take needed suppliies to South Sudan, along with thousands of pairs of donated underwear and washable sanitary pads to Kenya, and Kenya customs lets me through because the bags are on their way to South Sudan.
The Mayfield Guest House driver was waiting for me after I collected my bags. I expected the guard at the gate to give me the key, but instead I was met by Ron. He came with the kids a day earlier than I expected. Moses, John, Joseph, Michael, Simon, Agot, and Sarah all greeted me. Only James was missing. He is spending the beginning of his school break on a trip with his Scout troop.
Mayfield is owned by AIM International (Africa Inland Missions). Guests here are missionaries and their families and other humanitarian workers working in Kenya and South Sudan and other places. It is very inexpensive with simply furnished rooms with a sink, toilets, bathtubs, and shower rooms are along the halls. It is a cozy house with a living room and large dining room, with many dormitory additions up, down, and across, nice outdoor garden seating, and a friendly staff. Meals are simple, too, served family style, with Sunday lunch the best meal of the week. We had fried chicken, potatoes, gravy, mixed vegetables, Chai, and ice cream for dessert. Sunday dinner is a little simpler--tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches--and the ever-present ice cream. Ron wasn't able to get the large group of boys to understand that they needed to let us know if they would be present for meals, so they missed lunch, which is a problem for the Mayfield staff as they prepare the food based on expected number of guests, and this is a budget operation which doesn't waste food unnecessarily.
This is the first trip to Nairobi for all but Moses, so there are delightful things to see. They'd gone to a small amusement park nearby. After lunch, Ron, and Moses, and Agot and I walked about a mile to the Nakumatt, a large department store, to buy more supplies for our compound in the village. Three hoes (actually just the hoe part, they'll fashion their own handles), rugs for the inside of the tukuls, batteries, biscuits, nuts, dates, powdered juice, sweater jackets for the girls on cool evenings (Agot snared one for herself), and mascara for me. I don't know how I missed packing mascara. Believe me, the Nakumatt makeup selection is limited. Tomorrow morning, Sammy, the purchaser for AIM who has acquired our plumbing and electrical supplies, will come to pick up my bags and the new purchases to take to Wilson Airport, the airport where AIM and other small airlines are based. I've known Sammy since my first trip in 2007, as he was the technical guy at the Lost Boys Clinic in Duk Payuel. It's nice to see familiar faces here at Mayfield and in Nairobi. I expect to see a few more this week before heading to Duk witty Mos on Friday.
About a year ago, Moses learned he has two living siblings he hasn't seen since he was a small boy. We've got word they are In a village near Duk Payuel, and Dau, the head teacher will arrange for him to reunite with them.
Two weeks earlier, I went with Board member Ron Saeger to see if they would allow him the same. When we arrived at the counter, the two agents said, "oh, we know you. It's no problem." Their support of our program allows us to take needed suppliies to South Sudan, along with thousands of pairs of donated underwear and washable sanitary pads to Kenya, and Kenya customs lets me through because the bags are on their way to South Sudan.
The Mayfield Guest House driver was waiting for me after I collected my bags. I expected the guard at the gate to give me the key, but instead I was met by Ron. He came with the kids a day earlier than I expected. Moses, John, Joseph, Michael, Simon, Agot, and Sarah all greeted me. Only James was missing. He is spending the beginning of his school break on a trip with his Scout troop.
Mayfield is owned by AIM International (Africa Inland Missions). Guests here are missionaries and their families and other humanitarian workers working in Kenya and South Sudan and other places. It is very inexpensive with simply furnished rooms with a sink, toilets, bathtubs, and shower rooms are along the halls. It is a cozy house with a living room and large dining room, with many dormitory additions up, down, and across, nice outdoor garden seating, and a friendly staff. Meals are simple, too, served family style, with Sunday lunch the best meal of the week. We had fried chicken, potatoes, gravy, mixed vegetables, Chai, and ice cream for dessert. Sunday dinner is a little simpler--tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches--and the ever-present ice cream. Ron wasn't able to get the large group of boys to understand that they needed to let us know if they would be present for meals, so they missed lunch, which is a problem for the Mayfield staff as they prepare the food based on expected number of guests, and this is a budget operation which doesn't waste food unnecessarily.
This is the first trip to Nairobi for all but Moses, so there are delightful things to see. They'd gone to a small amusement park nearby. After lunch, Ron, and Moses, and Agot and I walked about a mile to the Nakumatt, a large department store, to buy more supplies for our compound in the village. Three hoes (actually just the hoe part, they'll fashion their own handles), rugs for the inside of the tukuls, batteries, biscuits, nuts, dates, powdered juice, sweater jackets for the girls on cool evenings (Agot snared one for herself), and mascara for me. I don't know how I missed packing mascara. Believe me, the Nakumatt makeup selection is limited. Tomorrow morning, Sammy, the purchaser for AIM who has acquired our plumbing and electrical supplies, will come to pick up my bags and the new purchases to take to Wilson Airport, the airport where AIM and other small airlines are based. I've known Sammy since my first trip in 2007, as he was the technical guy at the Lost Boys Clinic in Duk Payuel. It's nice to see familiar faces here at Mayfield and in Nairobi. I expect to see a few more this week before heading to Duk witty Mos on Friday.
About a year ago, Moses learned he has two living siblings he hasn't seen since he was a small boy. We've got word they are In a village near Duk Payuel, and Dau, the head teacher will arrange for him to reunite with them.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Sun, Rain, Airplanes and Orphans
Sunday, July 3
Angie and I carried our own chairs to church. It's a ten-minute walk, and the chairs are plastic. If we don't bring chairs, someone gives theirs up for us, and then they parade us to the front of the church where we sit with the elders facing the congregation. We were able to slip in the back without causing a stir.
It was another 100-degree day without a cloud in the sky, so we spent the afternoon in the shade at the compound. Around five, as it started to cool, Dau showed up to take us to the central area of the village to meet two more guardians and girls for our program. This was the first opportunity I've had on my four trips to Duk, to wander through the maze of family compounds. The families we visited before were in outlying areas, with great distances of grass between them. A rural setting. In the main area of the village, there's a wide road through the center, lined with a few shops and the Duk Payuel Business Group along the road and fences made of heavy thatching material, offering privacy and protection from roaming cattle and goats to the households within.
We had partial luck. At one home both the guardian and the girl were out cultivating their garden. At another, the guardian was gone, though we spoke with the girl and her blind grandmother. We have eight of our ten orphan girls confirmed.
Monday, July 4
Rain, rain, rain. We could feel it in the air when we woke up. After two full-sun days, rain was inevitable this time of year. We battened down the hatches of the tent, learning the best ways to ensure our belongings stayed dry—as long as the wind wasn't too strong. With a strong wind, there's no way to avoid it.
I was worried because my daughter Gina was scheduled to arrive on AIM Air around 1 pm. Joh Deng, the clinic manager, and I walked to the airstrip. He carried an umbrella, and I wore a yellow rain poncho and rolled up my pants. We walked the airstrip—it must be about a kilometer or more in length, trying to determine if WE thought AIM Air could land. The AIM pilots are pretty familiar with this landing strip, unlike MAF who circled and didn't land a week ago. So, though there was standing water in several places, we thought they'd chance it.
We walked back to the clinic. Learned that AIM had left Loki at 11. We got in the JDF car and returned to the strip with Lual, the driver. Walked the entire strip again, as if we could magically dry the water. Meanwhile, the rain has been steady, though not pouring, all morning. As we pondered whether to go back to the clinic or wait, we heard the plane.
Pilot Jerry landed on the sandy but squishy airstrip without a problem, and we welcomed Gina and some medical supplies for the clinic.
Angie and I carried our own chairs to church. It's a ten-minute walk, and the chairs are plastic. If we don't bring chairs, someone gives theirs up for us, and then they parade us to the front of the church where we sit with the elders facing the congregation. We were able to slip in the back without causing a stir.
It was another 100-degree day without a cloud in the sky, so we spent the afternoon in the shade at the compound. Around five, as it started to cool, Dau showed up to take us to the central area of the village to meet two more guardians and girls for our program. This was the first opportunity I've had on my four trips to Duk, to wander through the maze of family compounds. The families we visited before were in outlying areas, with great distances of grass between them. A rural setting. In the main area of the village, there's a wide road through the center, lined with a few shops and the Duk Payuel Business Group along the road and fences made of heavy thatching material, offering privacy and protection from roaming cattle and goats to the households within.
We had partial luck. At one home both the guardian and the girl were out cultivating their garden. At another, the guardian was gone, though we spoke with the girl and her blind grandmother. We have eight of our ten orphan girls confirmed.
Monday, July 4
Rain, rain, rain. We could feel it in the air when we woke up. After two full-sun days, rain was inevitable this time of year. We battened down the hatches of the tent, learning the best ways to ensure our belongings stayed dry—as long as the wind wasn't too strong. With a strong wind, there's no way to avoid it.
I was worried because my daughter Gina was scheduled to arrive on AIM Air around 1 pm. Joh Deng, the clinic manager, and I walked to the airstrip. He carried an umbrella, and I wore a yellow rain poncho and rolled up my pants. We walked the airstrip—it must be about a kilometer or more in length, trying to determine if WE thought AIM Air could land. The AIM pilots are pretty familiar with this landing strip, unlike MAF who circled and didn't land a week ago. So, though there was standing water in several places, we thought they'd chance it.
We walked back to the clinic. Learned that AIM had left Loki at 11. We got in the JDF car and returned to the strip with Lual, the driver. Walked the entire strip again, as if we could magically dry the water. Meanwhile, the rain has been steady, though not pouring, all morning. As we pondered whether to go back to the clinic or wait, we heard the plane.
Pilot Jerry landed on the sandy but squishy airstrip without a problem, and we welcomed Gina and some medical supplies for the clinic.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Arrival in Duk
June 21
Our chartered AIM Air flight allowed for 1000 kg of cargo and passengers. We filled it to the max with our cargo, Joseph, Angie, myself, and Boniface, a Kenyan Internet serviceman flying to Duk to repair International Relief Development's (IRD) dish misalignment.
Our flight was delayed which allowed us to savor some African tea (heavy on the milk and sugar) and samosas at Wilson Airport, and to chat with a gentleman preparing to leave for South Sudan on a huge (in comparison to ours) Samaritan's Purse plane.
We stopped in Lokichoggio to drop off an AIM staff member and refuel, then to Bor, the capitol of Jonglei State, South Sudan, to drop Joseph. As we approached Duk Payuel our pilot agreed to circle our building site so that I could shoot some aerial photos, though he warned that if the large birds (I don't know what they're called, but they're huge) that make Duk home were soaring overhead, he would have to abort.
The John Dau Foundation (JDF) Lost Boys Clinic staff awaited us with a car along the airstrip, and IRD (International Relief Development) staff were there with a car to pick up Boniface. When I landed last fall, car travel wasn't possible due to the flooding, so all my cargo had to be carried on the heads of women or the shoulders of men and boys. (The position of the burden is cultural.) It took several round trips to ferry the cargo to storage at the school. The community and our other NGO partners, JDF and IRD help us out, which makes working in this difficult environment easier and more pleasant.
Our chartered AIM Air flight allowed for 1000 kg of cargo and passengers. We filled it to the max with our cargo, Joseph, Angie, myself, and Boniface, a Kenyan Internet serviceman flying to Duk to repair International Relief Development's (IRD) dish misalignment.
Our flight was delayed which allowed us to savor some African tea (heavy on the milk and sugar) and samosas at Wilson Airport, and to chat with a gentleman preparing to leave for South Sudan on a huge (in comparison to ours) Samaritan's Purse plane.
We stopped in Lokichoggio to drop off an AIM staff member and refuel, then to Bor, the capitol of Jonglei State, South Sudan, to drop Joseph. As we approached Duk Payuel our pilot agreed to circle our building site so that I could shoot some aerial photos, though he warned that if the large birds (I don't know what they're called, but they're huge) that make Duk home were soaring overhead, he would have to abort.
The John Dau Foundation (JDF) Lost Boys Clinic staff awaited us with a car along the airstrip, and IRD (International Relief Development) staff were there with a car to pick up Boniface. When I landed last fall, car travel wasn't possible due to the flooding, so all my cargo had to be carried on the heads of women or the shoulders of men and boys. (The position of the burden is cultural.) It took several round trips to ferry the cargo to storage at the school. The community and our other NGO partners, JDF and IRD help us out, which makes working in this difficult environment easier and more pleasant.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Kenya Procurement June 16 through June 19
Nairobi is a city of odors, noise, and action. The belching smoke of busses and matatus (minibuses) mixes with the acrid smells of garbage, sweat, and sewer, and the aromas of chapatti (flatbread) cooking on a roadside stand. Pedestrians dodge traffic to cross streets where vehicles ignore stoplights and force their way through roundabouts by intimidation.
Angie Ostbye, a special education teacher, and I arrived late evening June 16 with nine duffle bags of supplies for the ASAH Home for Girls. Our first few nights we stayed at the Country Lodge, a contemporary-style budget business hotel. This allowed us a comfortable transition from the US and access to the Fairview Hotel restaurants.
Then we moved to Mayfield Guest House, owned by Africa Inland Missions (AIM) and populated by missionary families and other humanitarian workers. Toilets and showers and tubs down the hall, mosquito net-draped beds, in-room sinks and wireless Internet. Meals are served family-style and dinner companions may on leave from their work translating the New Testament in South Sudan, piloting evacuees from the border areas during this difficult transition to independence, teaching pastors how to use media developed for remote areas to serve their congregations, or teaching the Gospel to isolated tribes.
We spent our time in Nairobi procuring additional supplies for our boarding facility for orphan girls in Duk Payuel, South Sudan. Joseph Akol Makeer helped Angie and me bargain for shoes at one of the markets with hundreds of stalls and shops selling every kind of goods. The transactions were lengthy, but our prices were still higher than what a local would pay. Just the presence of a couple of white women starts the bidding higher.
At Tusky's, a large department store, we purchased everything from garden tools to bed sheets, from cooking supplies, food, and toiletries to plastic tables and stools. We spent many hours over three days there, leaving our goods for them to box and transport to AIM Air the day before our flight.
Angie Ostbye, a special education teacher, and I arrived late evening June 16 with nine duffle bags of supplies for the ASAH Home for Girls. Our first few nights we stayed at the Country Lodge, a contemporary-style budget business hotel. This allowed us a comfortable transition from the US and access to the Fairview Hotel restaurants.
Then we moved to Mayfield Guest House, owned by Africa Inland Missions (AIM) and populated by missionary families and other humanitarian workers. Toilets and showers and tubs down the hall, mosquito net-draped beds, in-room sinks and wireless Internet. Meals are served family-style and dinner companions may on leave from their work translating the New Testament in South Sudan, piloting evacuees from the border areas during this difficult transition to independence, teaching pastors how to use media developed for remote areas to serve their congregations, or teaching the Gospel to isolated tribes.
We spent our time in Nairobi procuring additional supplies for our boarding facility for orphan girls in Duk Payuel, South Sudan. Joseph Akol Makeer helped Angie and me bargain for shoes at one of the markets with hundreds of stalls and shops selling every kind of goods. The transactions were lengthy, but our prices were still higher than what a local would pay. Just the presence of a couple of white women starts the bidding higher.
At Tusky's, a large department store, we purchased everything from garden tools to bed sheets, from cooking supplies, food, and toiletries to plastic tables and stools. We spent many hours over three days there, leaving our goods for them to box and transport to AIM Air the day before our flight.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Day 2 Nairobi—Long and slightly off-topic
I’d like to say I had a great night’s sleep after catnapping on the flight from Amsterdam to Nairobi. Even if I’d been sleepy at the half point of the eight-hour flight, I would’ve been kept awake by two phenomena. First, numerous humorous Dutch men gathered near the exit row across from the aft restrooms just behind me. They were told they must sit if they were drinking alcohol. So then they gulped them down and kept talking. Loud.
Though I was able to ignore this, engrossed as I was in my Kindle version of The Curious Case of the Dog in the Nighttime was the (we later learned) drug-addled, young man who growled in a voice so low and loud I would have guessed he was old, old, old, and very very crazy. His voice was one of loud desperation, calling “Heeeelllp me, heeeelllp me, spurring various doctors at various times to offer their services. He got help in the form of handcuffs and ankle bracelets, which caused a little wrestling (heard not seen by me) and resulted in a move behind closed galley curtains. There, a few rows in front of my row, his pleas grew in intensity, his help me’s punctuated by Mama—which stirred my own instincts as though I could offer assistance, which I didn’t. He also used called other less-universal names, but they didn’t help either, and then he started up with some pretty outrageous obscenities. This continued about every ten minutes for approximately three hours. In truth, it was not nearly as tough as sitting through an airplane crying baby episode primarily due to the novelty. I imagine that would wear off if I experienced such things frequently on flights—Oh no, not another wolf-crying druggie sitting behind me, kicking the seat. One bonus about this ride—there wasn’t a single moment of air turbulence when we were asked to return to our seats and put our seat belts on. I believe officers were waiting for the turbulent passenger on landing.
This blog seems overly-long and not humanitarian-aid oriented. I’ll try to shorten it up from here. And I did feel sorry for him.
I was worried about customs—how to physically get my eight bags from baggage claim through customs without a problem. I envisioned my two arms, one with a rotator-cuff impinged shoulder, and fine-tooth combs examining a thousand pair of undies. But a young porter named Kevin helped me get all the bags onto carts and the two of us wheeled our way through the masses to customs, where I handed my sheet which declared 35 lbs of seeds destined for Sudan among other things. The official didn’t look at the sheet, said, “Anything to declare?” while shaking his head. I shook mine, and he waved me through.
Pacing back and forth in front of the lineup of drivers with little signs—one read “James Bond,” but none said “Deb Dawson, ” I started to worry a little because I didn’t have a phone. I was thinking of asking Kevin if he had one, when I spotted a guy with a Fairview Hotel sign. I signaled. Turns out he wasn’t there for me, but had been waiting for a guy for two hours who hadn’t seen him and took a cab to the hotel. Francis was hanging around in case, by chance, someone wanted to go to Fairview. Lucky me that I stayed at the Country Lodge and ate at the Fairview a few steps away and owned by the same folks: the Fairview is the elegant elder aunt to the upstart boutique nephew, the misleadingly-named Country Lodge. No lion heads, no brass and wood—it’s all chrome and white and down. It’s the setting that gives them their names—an oasis in the midst of the city.
This morning, Carol Wamuyu appeared after six-hour night bus ride from Kisumu to spend the day helping me get ASAH business done in Kenya. She was a nurse at the JDF clinic in Duk Payuel when we were there in 2007 and is now working in the slums of Kisumu. The whole clinic crew lives in the slums as well, thus experiencing the full reality of their patient’s lives. She is continuing the humanitarian work she was doing in Duk Payuel in her country of Kenya. When I posted on Facebook that I was preparing to go to Sudan—Carol thought—I bet she’ll be in Nairobi—and arranged to come see me and help me out.
Our driver, Patrick, filled his vehicle with bags to be taken to AIM Air to be weighed and taken through customs early so as to speed our departure tomorrow.
We spent the entire day in the car, dodging pedestrians, boldly forging our way between vehicles or yielding to those more forceful than we. I asked Patrick if a lot of pedestrians got hit. He said, “No, we know they are there.”
First, we made a stop at a hard-to-locate business Ron found on the Internet—but couldn’t find on his last visit. The address describes itself as “Besides the fly over bridge.” A more accurate descriptor would be “below.” A fly over bridge is a pedestrian bridge over the highway. We were looking for treadle (manual) sewing machines. Apparently this company doesn’t keep its website up-to-date—though they do have grinding mills—all sizes and shapes. Fortunately Patrick had purchased a machine at SINGER and knew where that shop was. Still, it took several hours to complete the transaction. Deciding on the machine—should we go with the one with the sturdy table or the rickety one—we chose sturdy. And decided to get three. Which meant all of them had to be opened and assembled to make sure they work, then disassembled and repacked.
While this was happening, we went to a money exchange—got 80 Kenyan shillings to a dollar—a good rate—but the 20 $100 bills I exchanged for 1000 shilling notes resulted in a three-inch-stack. Don’t worry—I didn’t spend it all on machines—the three machines with tables, spare parts, accessories, extra oil, and so on cost about $800 total. They gave me a teeny tiny discount for buying three—I didn’t have time to negotiate as AIM wanted them by one. We loaded them up and got them there by two but had to return to Singer for the bobbins and bobbin cases that they had assured us they had in stock, but when we arrived to pick up, admitted they didn’t. If they didn’t have it, and they couldn’t get it, probably nobody could so came back. On each visit, we were the only customers in the tiny shop, though there were more than a half a dozen people working on our order—the sales girl, her manager, two finance ladies, and three or four guys who schlepped the equipment in and out of boxes. At each juncture and decision point and delay, they urged Miriam and me to sit on the two available chairs they moved in place depending on where we were in the process. There was also the unseen manager who approved the tiny discount. I wish I was a better haggler. I bet if board member Ron Saeger had been with me we would have gotten a hell of a deal.
Carol brought me to another spot for more thread. Turns out she’s working with a group of girls in the slums, and hygiene is one of the primary areas they are teaching. I dug a sack full of pads and some of the precut, unsewn pads and liners and gave them to her along with some thread and needles to get her going. Talk about paying it forward Bismarck and Fargo ladies!!
She helped me put some credit on the phone Jeremy Groce, our Kenya/Sudan work-experienced board member gave me to use on the trip. He recommended Safaricom, but she got it through Zane because you can call nation from Kenya for three KES per minute—about four cents and she says they’re cheaper for other calls, too. Jeremy Groce texted me and I texted back—no problem. And then I called my husband and he said—how does that work? All I have to dial is a + sign and 1 and Area Code and number.
Enough said. 8:30 am flight to Loki with Jon Hildebrandt, the AIM pilot we met at Mayfield Guest House, a mission hotel. He didn’t fly us, but he did tell us about Country Lodge since Mayfield was closed near Christmas and unavailable. And introduced me to Jean Wood in Colorado, working with two Boulder Lost Boys from Duk Payuel who will be adding on to the school there in February.
Though I was able to ignore this, engrossed as I was in my Kindle version of The Curious Case of the Dog in the Nighttime was the (we later learned) drug-addled, young man who growled in a voice so low and loud I would have guessed he was old, old, old, and very very crazy. His voice was one of loud desperation, calling “Heeeelllp me, heeeelllp me, spurring various doctors at various times to offer their services. He got help in the form of handcuffs and ankle bracelets, which caused a little wrestling (heard not seen by me) and resulted in a move behind closed galley curtains. There, a few rows in front of my row, his pleas grew in intensity, his help me’s punctuated by Mama—which stirred my own instincts as though I could offer assistance, which I didn’t. He also used called other less-universal names, but they didn’t help either, and then he started up with some pretty outrageous obscenities. This continued about every ten minutes for approximately three hours. In truth, it was not nearly as tough as sitting through an airplane crying baby episode primarily due to the novelty. I imagine that would wear off if I experienced such things frequently on flights—Oh no, not another wolf-crying druggie sitting behind me, kicking the seat. One bonus about this ride—there wasn’t a single moment of air turbulence when we were asked to return to our seats and put our seat belts on. I believe officers were waiting for the turbulent passenger on landing.
This blog seems overly-long and not humanitarian-aid oriented. I’ll try to shorten it up from here. And I did feel sorry for him.
I was worried about customs—how to physically get my eight bags from baggage claim through customs without a problem. I envisioned my two arms, one with a rotator-cuff impinged shoulder, and fine-tooth combs examining a thousand pair of undies. But a young porter named Kevin helped me get all the bags onto carts and the two of us wheeled our way through the masses to customs, where I handed my sheet which declared 35 lbs of seeds destined for Sudan among other things. The official didn’t look at the sheet, said, “Anything to declare?” while shaking his head. I shook mine, and he waved me through.
Pacing back and forth in front of the lineup of drivers with little signs—one read “James Bond,” but none said “Deb Dawson, ” I started to worry a little because I didn’t have a phone. I was thinking of asking Kevin if he had one, when I spotted a guy with a Fairview Hotel sign. I signaled. Turns out he wasn’t there for me, but had been waiting for a guy for two hours who hadn’t seen him and took a cab to the hotel. Francis was hanging around in case, by chance, someone wanted to go to Fairview. Lucky me that I stayed at the Country Lodge and ate at the Fairview a few steps away and owned by the same folks: the Fairview is the elegant elder aunt to the upstart boutique nephew, the misleadingly-named Country Lodge. No lion heads, no brass and wood—it’s all chrome and white and down. It’s the setting that gives them their names—an oasis in the midst of the city.
This morning, Carol Wamuyu appeared after six-hour night bus ride from Kisumu to spend the day helping me get ASAH business done in Kenya. She was a nurse at the JDF clinic in Duk Payuel when we were there in 2007 and is now working in the slums of Kisumu. The whole clinic crew lives in the slums as well, thus experiencing the full reality of their patient’s lives. She is continuing the humanitarian work she was doing in Duk Payuel in her country of Kenya. When I posted on Facebook that I was preparing to go to Sudan—Carol thought—I bet she’ll be in Nairobi—and arranged to come see me and help me out.
Our driver, Patrick, filled his vehicle with bags to be taken to AIM Air to be weighed and taken through customs early so as to speed our departure tomorrow.
We spent the entire day in the car, dodging pedestrians, boldly forging our way between vehicles or yielding to those more forceful than we. I asked Patrick if a lot of pedestrians got hit. He said, “No, we know they are there.”
First, we made a stop at a hard-to-locate business Ron found on the Internet—but couldn’t find on his last visit. The address describes itself as “Besides the fly over bridge.” A more accurate descriptor would be “below.” A fly over bridge is a pedestrian bridge over the highway. We were looking for treadle (manual) sewing machines. Apparently this company doesn’t keep its website up-to-date—though they do have grinding mills—all sizes and shapes. Fortunately Patrick had purchased a machine at SINGER and knew where that shop was. Still, it took several hours to complete the transaction. Deciding on the machine—should we go with the one with the sturdy table or the rickety one—we chose sturdy. And decided to get three. Which meant all of them had to be opened and assembled to make sure they work, then disassembled and repacked.
While this was happening, we went to a money exchange—got 80 Kenyan shillings to a dollar—a good rate—but the 20 $100 bills I exchanged for 1000 shilling notes resulted in a three-inch-stack. Don’t worry—I didn’t spend it all on machines—the three machines with tables, spare parts, accessories, extra oil, and so on cost about $800 total. They gave me a teeny tiny discount for buying three—I didn’t have time to negotiate as AIM wanted them by one. We loaded them up and got them there by two but had to return to Singer for the bobbins and bobbin cases that they had assured us they had in stock, but when we arrived to pick up, admitted they didn’t. If they didn’t have it, and they couldn’t get it, probably nobody could so came back. On each visit, we were the only customers in the tiny shop, though there were more than a half a dozen people working on our order—the sales girl, her manager, two finance ladies, and three or four guys who schlepped the equipment in and out of boxes. At each juncture and decision point and delay, they urged Miriam and me to sit on the two available chairs they moved in place depending on where we were in the process. There was also the unseen manager who approved the tiny discount. I wish I was a better haggler. I bet if board member Ron Saeger had been with me we would have gotten a hell of a deal.
Carol brought me to another spot for more thread. Turns out she’s working with a group of girls in the slums, and hygiene is one of the primary areas they are teaching. I dug a sack full of pads and some of the precut, unsewn pads and liners and gave them to her along with some thread and needles to get her going. Talk about paying it forward Bismarck and Fargo ladies!!
She helped me put some credit on the phone Jeremy Groce, our Kenya/Sudan work-experienced board member gave me to use on the trip. He recommended Safaricom, but she got it through Zane because you can call nation from Kenya for three KES per minute—about four cents and she says they’re cheaper for other calls, too. Jeremy Groce texted me and I texted back—no problem. And then I called my husband and he said—how does that work? All I have to dial is a + sign and 1 and Area Code and number.
Enough said. 8:30 am flight to Loki with Jon Hildebrandt, the AIM pilot we met at Mayfield Guest House, a mission hotel. He didn’t fly us, but he did tell us about Country Lodge since Mayfield was closed near Christmas and unavailable. And introduced me to Jean Wood in Colorado, working with two Boulder Lost Boys from Duk Payuel who will be adding on to the school there in February.
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