Grace

Grace is in her late 30s, early 40s, has two daughters, and is the director over health for Child of Hope. She is super skinny, has a big smile, and is super funny. Her husband also works at Child of Hope as a teacher. Grace is one of those people that gets along with everyone, can scold while still being funny, and you can tell she gets really attached to people. She has worked with other NGOs but has worked at Child of Hope for four years. Whenever she sees us she comes out to greet us and asks us why we have not been by to visit more. Grace is one of those people who makes me sad when I think of leaving Mbale. I know that when I leave I’m going to miss her, her passion for helping the people in the slum, her humor, her cheekiness, and her example of hard work.

Phillip

This is Phillip (telling Dane something). Phillip is the bomb. He's the nicest man I have possibly ever met and he gets things done. He's the acting director of Child of Hope, the NGO that we've been doing a lot of work with these past few weeks and he's been so great to show us around, invite us in, and respect us and our opinions, even though we're just college kids. He knows everyone in the slum where he works, he's a pastor for his church, and he's the director of welfare for Child of Hope when the directors are not in England fundraising. Even though he has a million things to do, he always makes time to talk to people. One time when he was showing us around Dane (the other volunteer I'm working with) expressed interest in an instrument this guy was holding. So Phillip stopped the kid and asked him if he'd made it, how much it cost, and how he could get them. Basically he's legit and I'm glad to be working with him.

I'm sad because I had a better picture of him (one where you can actually see his face) but this computer isn't recognizing it. Oh well.

P.S. I love how many things are going on in this picture. Phillip is telling Dane something that Dane's writing down. You can see the little kid peeking out from under Dane's notebook, and there's Devin in the background playing with all of those kids. I'm such a good photographer. ;)

Mercy

This is Mercy. She's our cook. And when I say our cook, I mean she's our saving grace. I know that no matter what kind of weird thing I've eaten that day, I will have a fantastic dinner that night. She made us French toast once. French toast! Oh, and did I mention that she makes dinner for 16 people every night? On a charcoal stove? She went to culinary school and is therefore legit. She even killed a chicken that we all watched. I have video. She's also made us some traditional African stuff, like rice and beans and greens, but even that was delicious. She's from Kenya, she has two daughters and a husband (all in Kenya) and she dreams of having her own restaurant one day. Bascially she's a magician and we're all so glad that she's with us.

P.S. more about David: apparently last year the other Uganda team was having troubles with kids launching rocks over the wall and breaking up the tiles on the roof. One of the directors called David and had him switch places with that house's guard. Within two days the problem was solved. Apparently he spent a day scouting out all of the possible ways to exit the house and then when the kids came he cut through the jungle and tied up some twine or rope between some trees and close-lined the kids when they came running. Then he took them to their mothers. Their mothers put them in the public square to be publicly humiliated. David gets the job done.

David

This is David. He’s our guard. He’s super funny, he likes to tease, he’s fun to tease, he puts banana on his face to take care of his scars or something, and he’s afraid of dogs. We got him a bow and arrow so that he can shoot people who trespass onto our property without giving away his position (in his words, "the fire from the gun will give away my position, and I can kill only one man). I don't really think that he has killed anyone. However, when he was talking to one of our country directors, he said that there was a kind of bow and arrow that is laced with witchcraft so that you cannot miss if you shoot it. "But we will not get that one. It is too expensive." TIA (This Is Africa)

Just now he walked by singing “it’s too late to apologize. It’s too late.” I would say that we are a bad influence on him, but western music is everywhere here, and I actually think that we're a good influence for him. He’s already really nice to everyone but we also have the missionaries coming over to teach him once a week. Pretty much, he’s awesome and we are extremely lucky to have him.

I'm leavin' on a jet plane

I have some time here in the airport (read: I have been here for almost two hours and have one more hour), so I thought I would update all of my voracious readers. "Wait," you say, "the airport? Why? Where are you going?" Okay, so you're probably not asking yourself that, because chances are if you have had any contact with me in the last four months I have told you that I am going to MBALE, UGANDA! For those of you who don't know where what that is, here's a little map:

Yes, that would be Africa you are looking at. I will be spending 3 and a half months in this small country's (it is about the size of Oregon) third-largest city:

I'm going with HELP International and will be doing cool things like making square-foot gardens, building adobe stoves, teaching business classes, community health, etc. Basically, it's going to be an awesome summer. I'm going with a team of people who are pretty awesome and I am super excited to start making friends and getting to know about the culture of Uganda!

P.S. Thanks T-rev for this blog's picture header.

Meningitis?

Note: The following is probably the longest post I have ever written (and I've written some doozies), and it doesn't even have pictures. Just giving you fair warning.

Last night, just past midnight, my roommate and my boyfriend took me to the E.R. I wasn't unconscious, or bleeding, or shot. Gosh dangit, I didn't even have a stomach problem (they did, however, ask me to rate my pain and I said between a 7 and an 8 and I immediately thought of Mr. Regan here). What I thought I had was meningitis.

Well, I had the first three symptoms. I had a high fever that started suddenly (literally, one moment I was fine and about five seconds later I was shivering uncontrollably), I most definitely had a very painful and very stiff neck, especially when I tried to touch my chin to my chest, and whenever I changed positions my headache flared with a vengeance, but I hadn't vomited, I felt like I was pretty aware, and I hadn't had a seizure (and sure as heck didn't want to have one), but I was willing to wait it out.

Because here's the thing. I have been to the hospital for myself exactly twice. Once when I was two and I fell off the top of a 15-foot slide, and in that case I was two. And it was quite a fall. The other time was when I was in 6th grade and I fell of my bike without a helmet on and I got a concussion. In this case I was definitely out of it (example: I was playing GoFish with my siblings (my mom told them to keep me awake) and I held my cards face out, not realizing anything was wrong), and even then my mom finished my paper route before we went. We are very responsible, us Blackhursts. I can't remember any other time I've been to the hospital for myself, but anyone else is free to remind me. The point is that I do not go to the hospital. Ever.

So why did I go?

I went because the speed of the onset of the fever kind of freaked me out. I had had a sore neck the neck day before, but it hadn't been too bad, and when I woke up that morning it was much worse (as was my headache), but I took two ibuprofen and was fine all day, well, until about 9pm when my neck suddenly stiffened up while Jeff and I were walking around the Museum of Art at a gallery opening (we had even been swing dancing right before that and I had been fine). And then at 10pm when the fever struck without warning.

So finally, after talking to my brother (a doctor), and a few other people and taking my temperature about 50 times (okay, not really, more like 10 times) over the course of about 45 minutes and watching it climb, I called my Dad, let him know that I was going to the hospital (and asked him which hospital I should go to), and off we went.

There was an odd moment when we wondered if we should go to the E.R. or the front entrance, but we decided on the E.R. They checked me in, got my vitals really quick, I told them that my pain was about an 8, and then they showed me to a room and said to each other,
"Eight. "
"Yeah, I was thinking eight too."
I don't know exactly what this encounter was about, but it made me smile.

Anyway, I got changed into a gown, a few minutes later a doctor and two nurses came in, they asked me some questions and then he (the doctor) said,
"Well, I'm a pessimist," (perfect) "and although we're not sure exactly what it is yet, from everything that you've told us it looks like you have meningitis."
Thanks, that's why I came in here.
"We can't be sure yet, so we're going to need to take a sample. Now, we can take blood from anywhere in your body, well, except your head because there's no opening there, but the problem is that what we need is not blood. We need to get to the fluid that surrounds your brain, so you can see our problem. Fortunately, the fluid that surrounds your brain also runs down your spine, but we don't want to poke a needle into your bone, so we're going to poke it at the base of your spine, where there's some of that fluid just sitting there."
Mmm goody. A spinal tap.

So he and the nurses went to work, sterilizing my back, numbing me up, and getting ready to poke me with a needle. Well, actually they poked me with a couple of needles. He numbed me twice, and then when he got ready to poke me with the big needle, he said,
"Now Sarah, I'm going into a space where there are nerves."
Thanks for the heads-up.
"I have a really good idea of where the needle needs to go, and I won't actually puncture any nerves, but it may brush up against it, which may cause some pain."
At least he didn't say that I might feel some "pressure" (look at about minute 3:15)
"If you feel any pain in your legs, let me know immediately, don't try to be brave and get through it on your own."
You got it, boss.

So he started the needle in and after about 1/2 second it felt like my entire left leg had gone numb. The kind of numb when you hit your funny bone, and it hurts. So I said tersely, "ow! leg!" and he immediately backed off, asked me which leg and went in again. I thought for sure he would have it, but after about a second, once again, my entire leg felt simultaneously tingly and on fire. "ow! leg!" and then immediately after "ow! leg!" again. He asked me if it was my right leg. Nope. Still my left. I think you're going to far to one side, doc. Try again.

Anyway, he got my spinal fluid out and as he was doing it he said that if I had bacterial meningitis that the fluid would look yellowy and puss-y.
Delicious.
But mine looked clear like water.
Oh good. What am I doing here again? Oh yeah, because it might be viral meningitis, which wouldn't show up as a color in the fluid.

After they were done, a nurse took a blood sample and then they gave me antibiotics because until they knew that it wasn't meningitis, they were going to treat me like I did have it. And then they left.

And we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I'm pretty sure they said it was going to be about a half hour, but it was an hour before they came back and said.... (drumroll)..........."You don't have meningitis."

What I have was just a regular old virus of some kind. How anti-climactic. Well, at this point I'm glad that I don't have meningitis, but I'm also disappointed that I went to the E.R. when I didn't really need to, especially when I made Saundra and Jeff stay up til 3am just so they could hear that I was not, in fact, that sick. And all that I have to show for it is a little band-aid on my back and a tiny hole in my arm where they took the blood sample.

However, I am glad I went because I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't. For all I know, the fever might have gotten worse and might have caused a seizure. I don't know). I'm just glad that I'm better now.

My weekend activities

So this is what I did last weekend. I probably won't make it a weekly or even monthly habit (if I ever decide to do it again), but it was a riot last week.

Yeah, we went dumpster diving. Not because we have to, but because we want to.

(what trash officer?)

We went to a pastry shop. And yes, Hilary and I (and a roommate or two) did actually eat the stuff we picked out of the garbage can.

In our defense, they were in a sealed bag at the very top (so, no actual diving occurred), and they had just been put there maybe a half hour before. So its not that bad.

Or maybe it is.

I haven't gotten sick yet, and it was something fun and spontaneous, which means it was something I can check off of my list for becoming a more fun person.