Karen, Day 3: The Irish Group Leaves to the Village

Originally posted on January 3, 2020 on playbeautifulsoccer.net

On my third day in Karen, the Irish group left to go to the village. The village is an incredible, self-sustaining community of HIV/AIDS orphans a few hours drive away from town. Last time I was in Kenya, I was blessed to visit for a day to help with medical check-ups for the children there. After medical check-ups, I found a ball and the rest is captured in the picture below:

Due to the rigors of the journey thus far (low sleep, illness, constant interaction), it was time for me to take my rest. I had decided that I would not take a room for the last day of the journey since my plane was leaving at 11:10 pm that night, so it would be the last 24 hours with access to a bed. I went back to sleep for a few hours in what seemed to be the most comfortable bed and comforter that I had ever enjoyed. In the afternoon, I had Vivian, the Mary Ward Centre coordinator call for a driver to take me to “The Hub” to get out cash to pay the Mary Ward Centre with for check-out procedures.

Still feeling wiped and not up to 100% on wellness, I sat in the front seat feeling rude as I fought to find a word or two to say to the driver. It was more that my mind and body wanted a break than anything, but the silence made me feel as if I was losing an opportunity to connect with somebody who would enjoy the interaction. As we pulled into “The Hub,” I arranged with the driver to pick me back up in 45 minutes, and I headed through the second security check-point (the car had already been searched for weapons on the way in) on foot.

Walking into “The Hub,” the stark contrast of the designer brands and well-to-do tourists buzzing around the shopping center is quite apparent. It is not that it is something that you are not used to. It is rather that it seems out of place for the Kenyan way of life. To me, it was an embarrassment of sorts to be “overtreated” when many of the hundreds of people that I had interacted with over the course of my journey would never be “privileged” to experience such a sight or to purchase an overpriced “name brand” item. I was at “The Hub” for a reason, however.

“The Hub” was home to many things, not the least of which was the ATM I needed in order that I could pay the Mary Ward Centre in Kenyan Shillings the next day. After getting my hefty hunk of 1000 shilling bills from the ATM, I headed out to wait for my ride. As I waited, the ringing in my ears reminded me that I should probably be doing something about the congestion that I had been experiencing ever since Kisumu in order to avoid the possibility of permanent damage to my hearing during the plane ride that was to come in the following day. Just over a year before, I had experienced an in-flight problem when my ears could not equalize the pressure due to congestion on the way back from Brazil. Unfortunately, that incident has left me with permanent tinnitus, which was my reason for concern.

I headed back into “The Hub” and first found an naturopathic type of store. For the equivalent of $21 USD, I could have had a peppermint concoction to try and relieve my congestion. I told the man that I was looking for something that was a bit more simple of a solution than that. I found a drug store, and they immediately lead me to good ole’ Sudafed. Other than one aspirin in 2018, I had not taken medicine in nearly five years. It was time to give my body a little support in clearing up the congestion in preparation for the flights.

I purchased a couple of waters with a bottle of Sudafed and headed out to the front for pick-up. Back at the Mary Ward Centre, I took the non-drowsy Sudafed, blew my nose, and went into shut-down mode. I awoke some hours later in preparation for dinner. Although I was not yet feeling hungry, I decided to go, seeking interaction with whomever may be attending.

It was there that I found a Canadian couple who were visiting the husband’s brother, an 83 year old Jesuit with three PhD’s from St. Louis and had just celebrated 60 years as a Jesuit. Because the brother had left when the man was very young and had been in Africa for quite some time, this was to be one of the best opportunities for them to share and get to know things about each other. In the morning, they would head to Mombasa, a beach resort type of area in Kenya with an Arabic influence.

I went back after barely touching my food. It was time to sleep until breakfast and check-out the next morning…