Hash run

Yesterday I went on a hash run that was an unbelievable experience. For those that don't know what a hash is, usually a person (the "hare") leads the run and places flour for the people behind to follow. Hash runs in Moshi tend to take you through villages and around waterfalls, but yesterday was a bit different. We were hashing through a gorge and the river that runs through it. It was an amazing sight to be hopping over rocks (or falling on them in most cases) in the middle of a pristine river with vines hanging down over the trees and the canyon walls towering 50 feet over us. My legs are pretty beat up right now (nowhere near as bad as Dana's), and the bum of my shorts has been ripped to shreds, but it was maybe the coolest thing I've done in Tanzania. I'm sure the locals thought we were insane wazungu and I need to go find out what kind of drugs to buy to cover shisto (Uncle Bob, any ideas? Albendazole?) but it was so worth it!

Safari njema!

That means "Bon voyage!" or "have a good trip!" I leave on safari tomorrow morning. I am going with two other Australian girls from KCMC for four days in the Serengeti, Ngorogoro Crater, and Tarangire National Parks in Tanzania. We are camping and I am really looking forward to the endless stars in the African sky.

After I am saturated with giraffes, elephants, lions, cheetahs, flamingos, baboons, and the rest of the African plains I will come back for one more week at KCMC. It's hard to believe how quickly this experience has gone. I am very comfortable and enjoy straying from the mzungu path so that I get to do what the locals do.

Asante-giving in Africa

My Thanksgiving was unconventional, to say the least. I went with a group of American ex-pats to a Tanzanian barbeque restaurant where we had to forfeit our stuffing and cranberry sauce for ndizi (banana) and kuku (chicken). It was delicious but I am still miss some of my diet from back home. We went around the table and told everyone what we would be doing if we were back at home in the States right now. My story was about my Dad rocking out the kitchen as the chef-du-jour, watching re-runs of Saturday Night Live with my brother and Dad, putting some Tar Heel pie to the face (can't wait to have a piece at Christmas!), finally waddling to the couch post-dinner, and seeing whether my mom and I have enough bravery to tackle the black Friday crowds.

Our "Asante"giving ended up with a trip to a playground lit up by the African stars and moon. Swings, a merry-go round, see saw, jungle gym, and slide made that kuku sit a little funny in my stomach, but it was so worth it to have a few minutes of childlike play.

The Americans are also missing our usual diet... greasy Mexican food. So I think we're going to have another holiday this weekend and call it "Gracias"giving as an excuse to put cheese on everything and smother it in local avacado. Mmmmm

Saving babies

Everything is exaggerated in Africa. Time moves slower, the mountains are bigger, and the kids are sicker. For those of you who know my background, you know that I am an ICU nurse whose heavy heart pushed her into primary care in search of healthy kids. But now the kids in primary care are just as sick are breaking my heart every day. Yesterday and today were particularly difficult.

We started off clinic with a very sick little boy with HIV and CP in respiratory distress. We ended up admitting him to the ward with a severe pneumonia.

The next patient was a 16 year old boy that we disclosed his HIV status to and he had NO IDEA. (In Tanzania, the children are simply given medicine and they have no idea why they take it. "Disclosure", or telling a child about their HIV status, happens around 12 or 13.) All he knew was that he took medicine every day because his father told him to and that his mother died when he was little. It remains unclear to me whether he was totally in the dark, or perhaps suspected that he had HIV, but we told him all about his disease. It was one of the more difficult conversations I have ever had with a patient. To him it was a death sentence and meant that he would be ostracized from his friends. We emphasized that he would live a normal life-- he just had to remember his medicine every day. He could even follow his dream of being a pilot if he studied very hard in school. After about an hour of tear-filled counseling, he said, "I would just like to go home if it is possible."

We re-admitted a kid that came back for a check-up after being discharged with a severe infection. He had cancer about a year ago and it had metastasized to the liver. No one told him that he had to go through another two rounds of chemo.

And the cherry on top of my Debbie week was that a beautiful little girl was abandoned in the pediatric ward today. Her mother left and the nurses brought her into the clinic. She looks about 6 months old and has the most wonderful personality. It has been outlawed for single women to adopt Tanzanian children.

Ugh. Rough. I'm headed back to my house now for lunch, a handful of Skittles (thanks Aunt Janet & Uncle Bob!), and a nap.

Tomorrow will be better.

Quarter Century Update

Closeup of Becky at age 25!


Enjoying a Fanta in front of my house in my birthday dress... until the dress broke and I ended up in jeans. It was pretty balmy for November 13, but I never complain about getting to wear dresses.


This is in front of Ndoro falls. Every once in a while I would say to myself, "It's my 25th birthday and I am hiking through a Tanzanian mountain village in search of waterfalls... What?!" The hike down to the base of the falls was a Kili-like excursion and we were soaking wet from all the mist. We luckily found our way out, with no help from our "rafiki" (friend), and back to town.


This is Shanette and me in front of the sign to the falls. Our dala dala trip was quite interesting (complete with a birthday phone call!) but we finally made it up to the park.


Kinukamori falls. The legend is that there was a woman (the statue at the top) who found out that she was pregnant outside of wedlock (which is very bad in Chagga culture) and was going to commit suicide by jumping over the falls. She decided against it and on her way back to the village she came across a leopard. She ran away from the leopard and forgot the the falls were behind her and fell over the edge. The statue stands to commemorate her story.


Me, Shanette, and Dana in Marangu.

For those of you that missed out on the celebration of my birthday and are craving more pictures, here are a few pictures from my 25th birthday. Thank you for all the notes, calls, and fb messages!

Reading List

If you're looking for a good read then I have a few suggestions.

Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder is about the work of Dr. Paul Farmer and his efforts to cure TB in Haiti and across the world. It is a great book for both the medical and non-medical reader. If you trade Haiti for Tanzania and Creole for Swahili then you've got my life here in another resource-limited nation.

Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson is not exactly about my life here in Tanzania, but he is from Moshi and his parents started KCMC back in the 1970's.

Rains in Africa

The short rainy season has begun. The dusty streets are now soggy with a mud that cakes to the bottoms of your shoes. The potholes in the road are filled with an orange water that splashes me when cars drive by. Thankfully it mostly rains at night, but it can continue into the morning hours which makes walking to work a tricky task... like today.



Someone lifted my bag in clinic today. It's not a big deal, but the principle of stealing from a volunteer stinks. It was a bag that I had sewn several years ago, but inside my bag was an umbrella and my raincoat. I was super bummed. But my spirits lifted when I realized I had brought an umbrella to give as a gift that I will keep instead. Then I was super bummed again when I realized it had a Dook symbol on it and I will have to carry it around for the next month.