A fellow missionary couple ran the medical clinic. The wife is a nurse and her husband coordinates the logistics of running the clinic. His years of running the business end of a large church comes in handy. On this assignment, 5 people from the US flew in the night before and helped minister in the clinic. After we arrived and unloaded the medicines and equipment, the clinic started. Andy and I were stop number 2 in the line up. After the local people registered outside and received a number, Andy and I welcomed them in and weighed them. Then we took their temperature, blood pressure, and then asked them why they wanted to see the doctor.
Our first 15 or 20 patients were older men. In the Masai culture, respect is shown for the older men by allowing them the privilege of being first. Their dark, deeply creased skin and holed earlobes are the images I hold in my mind. I remember the cloudy eyes looking at me as they explained how they could no longer see well. The older women followed the men. On average, most ladies were 10 kilos heavier than the men.
At night, we camped in tents. Thick, thorned branches cut from the bushes surround the church property. The fence of thorns served as our only protection from the local wildlife. In the middle of the night we heard the hyena roaming around for dinner. During a one of our short walks, Spencer and Andy saw jackals eating a gazelle. Early one morning I heard there was a giraffe over the hill so I hurried out to see. I found a baby giraffe eating branches from an acacia tree with his mom.
The name of the town which hosted us was Otiaseka which sat with the Chuylu Hills on one side and Mt. Kilimanjaro on the other. Most days clouds surround Kili so she is not visible. On the last morning of our stay in the area, the clouds cleared and the view of Mt. Kilimanjaro was magnificent. The largest mountain in Africa took my breath away. Our departing gift from the land appeared from the clouds. I shared the moment with my kids. A feeling of gratitude filled my heart as I thanked God for allowing us to make this memory together.
Below I posted a few pictures from the trip. In my next post, I will write about my time discovering Ernest Hemingway's campsite from his 1953 stay in Kenya. A doctor named Joseph saved a woman's life a few years ago and because of his act of kindness, I was able to take a tour of Hemingway's old camp. Stay tuned.
The long dusty road to the site.
Our accomodations for the stay. Notice the thorny fence on the right that served as our fence and protection.
The Chyulu Hills were a beautiful sight in the morning.
A Panaramic View
Baobab Tree and my favorite scenic path