Days 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, & 35: Wrap Up

July 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, & 11: This last week has been tiring, yet fulfilling. I will not delve into detail on the day-to-day recaps of these days because a) that would take an eternity to write b) honestly, this past week has flown by like the speed of light, and the days have blended themselves together. I am currently sitting in the Entebbe International Airport, waiting to board my flight to Amsterdam, where I will meet my family. This has been the first sliver of quiet time I have had in quite awhile (or when I have had quiet time, it turns into "nap time," not "blog writing time").

     These last days have been full of project continuations, as well as project start-ups. The psycho social program is thriving, and more people have shown interest this past week. Carlos is a music teacher from Columbia and has a classical training background. Noortje brought him over to the clinic and unlike Julio, who used drums and vocals, Carlos brought mini violins and rhythm objects. The kids were fascinated by the violins, and considering that they had probably never heard of a violin, I thought they played well. Carlos greatly enjoyed the session and wants to attend more of them; he is also training Allen, who will be the project leader. I am so thankful that the program has been successful, and it would not be where it is today without the help of so many people who have guided me along the way. There have been countless driving forces behind the project, and I cannot express my gratitude towards these people.

     With three days left before Kampala, we (Noortje, Sarah, and I) began to assemble the supplies for the malnutrition ward redecoration (fruits, vegetables, paints, wall decorations, signs, etc.). Although Noortje and I purchased the materials during my first week, we did not find time to create the end products until these past couple days. I was able to see the painted ward (the baby blue lightened up the dark space, and you can now actually see inside) and the vegetables (we ended up cutting out around 200 pieces of fabric vegetables); however, because the power was out for much of this past week, the carpenter was unable to finish creating the market shelves and signs. Therefore, I was unable to see the finished ward in person, but hopefully, they will finish the renovation this week. The head of the ward is excited about our "market themed" decorations, for she and other nurses can use them to educate patients on nutrition. 

     On my last night in Mbarara, the guest house held a big pizza-making gathering, and most of the people who I have had the pleasure of knowing on my trip were there. The people who I have met have been nothing but kind and inclusive. The expat community has truly gone out of their way to make my stay vibrant, eye-opening, fun, and safe. Without this group of people, there would have been no weekend trips, morning runs, or pizza parties. They have all facilitated my integration into life in Mbarara, and I am so grateful for all they have done.

     I have just spent the last day and a half exploring Kampala with Sarah and Noortje. Kampala is the capital city of Uganda, and it is worlds away from Mbarara, as far as architecture, cars, shops, and food (we three have literally eaten our way through Kampala: green and mint lemonades, Indian cuisine, fish, Mediterranean wraps, and of course, ice cream). In short, I was really roughing it in Kampala, enjoying the palm trees with an iced latte in my hand. When we arrived in Kampala, I kept "ooo-ing" and "ahh-ing" at all of the "modern" buildings (a.k.a. buildings built in the last 20 years) and the paved roads; I could tell the effects that tourism has on the city. It was hard to believe that only an hour plane ride away is the humble town of Mbarara. 

    Today, Noortje and I went on our last run together. It was all through the hilly neighborhoods of the Kampala elite. The run was for sure one that I will remember: I can not move my legs and standing up takes more effort than a normal 50 jumping jacks would. After showering and a scrumptious breakfast (I ate scones, so I figured "scrumptious" is an appropriate word to use) Sarah, Noortje, and I went to the dog shelter, where Sarah and Noortje adopted their beloved dog, Tuscker (they claim it is the smartest dog in the world. . .motherly pride). There were 90 dogs, and many of them had bloody ears and transparent ribs. One would think that after spending five and a half weeks in an oncology center, I would be tough enough to face anything, but these dogs did me in. We left the shelter, Noortje pleading Sarah to take home another dog (Sarah's answer was a blunt "no") and went to lunch, where we talked of nothing but food for the entire meal. This afternoon, we drove to Entebbe and ate our last meal before I headed off to the airport and bid my farewells.

     This entire experience in Uganda has been eye-opening and life changing. Not only have I grown as an individual, but I have learned about and lived in a different culture. From the fundraising early last year, to the actual implementation of the program, I could not have asked for things to play out better than they have. I have met and worked with so many wonderful people throughout my journey; my eyes to the world have now been opened, and I cannot express my thanks in words to all of those who have helped me and the project.

     Stay tune to a video that I will post in August (probably) that was made by the film crew in Kampala!

Days 26, 27, & 28: Video Crew, USB Letdowns, and 'Merica Day in 'Ganda

July 2, 3, & 4: On Thursday, a film crew from Kampala came to Mbarara, with the purposes of capturing the progress that has been made in the cancer ward over the past month. The previous night, I had dinner with them and went over the "filming" schedule, which included a music session, patient education talk, interview with parents, patients, and nurses. We drove over to the oncology clinic early the next morning in their big truck (a rare sight in Uganda), to make sure we set up before patients began to arrive. I found it neat to see how creative this Ugandan media group was. Considering how literal and book-oriented the classrooms are here, it was a breath of fresh air to see these young adults, whose brains function and see life in a more artistic way.
      Not wanting to waste any time, we began filming the session. Julio took out the instruments and handed them to the kids who had arrived when the clinic opened its doors. The camera crew had wanted seven patients in the session, but unfortunately, not enough patients had arrived yet (there were six). We sent Noortje out in search of a random kid wandering in the hospital. Within minutes, she arrived with a smiling, wide-eyed girl, who was eager to be on film. The girl came around and gave all of the mzungas hugs and then went over to the film crew and gaped her mouth open when she saw all of the high-tech equipment. Our "pediatric oncologist patient actress" was not the only person who was interested in the film crew's set up; throughout the session, people passing by peered through the windows, asking what the cameras were for. The patients' eyes were fixated on the screens and microphones. It was slightly difficult to draw their attention away from the film group, but eventually, the film crew was content in that they were able to successfully record the therapy session.

Nurse with Carrie the Cancer Doll

      Immediately after the music session, we tracked down a nurse to run the patient education talk. Although this program will be implemented more-so over the next month, the crew thought it would be a strong addition to have on the video. Earlier this week, Noortje deconstructed a doll (did a little doll surgery), and created what I now call, "Carrie the Chemo Doll." Yes, I was creeped out by the idea and am still skeptical by the doll whose hair falls off and has an IV wedged into her arm, but the patients were entertained with Carrie, and it led to quite a bit of discussion among the nurse, parents, and patients. I urged Noortje to start a side business of making chemo dolls (I have given her a hard time with this doll). The education talk was actually the first one that the ward has ever had, and honestly, I was impressed with the amount of questions that arose throughout the talk. Who would have thought that something this simple and basic could relieve so many "grey clouds" from parents' minds?
     After the education talk, Allen and a man from the camera crew interviewed parents and patients, while I went out in search of a nurse to talk to, as well as a random passerby that could act as a parent. The film crew thought it would be a wonderful idea to have me interacting with nurses and parents as transition moment; I, however, was not so into the idea of having more screen time. If you had asked the little-kid-me to be in a film, I would have died of happiness, but now, a great awkward bubble appears when I have to track down and talk with random people who do not speak my language. None-the-less, I found both a nurse and parent (the parent was completely puzzled throughout the entire interaction) to join me on film. Both were confused because here is this crazy white girl with exaggerated hand gestures flagging you down to be on a video. At least they did a great job acting like they were having a good time!
      Back at Little Woods (a hotel and restaurant across the street from the guesthouse), Julio and I both had our individual interviews about the program and our experiences in Uganda. Between having to deal with the constantly moving clouds, the construction happening to our right, and the lawn-mower to our left, finding periods of time to record the interviews was difficult. It was a never-ending session of asking everyone to be quiet, but once we called it a wrap, I was really glad that we had filmed all of what is happening in the oncology ward because it will be a wonderful tool to use in the future and a momento to fondly look back on.

- - -

      Yesterday, Julio left to return to the States. I cannot express my gratitude towards him, for he really kicked off the psycho-social support program, and he was able to do so in such a short time frame. If it were just me setting up the program, who knows where it would have ended up. . .probably no where close to where it stands now!

      Besides saying goodbye, not too much happened yesterday. The internet was down for the majority of the day (a usual occurrence in Uganda), so blog writing and sending emails was out of the picture. Trying to make myself useful, I decided to go into town and print the inventory and the patient education brochures. After downloading the material on the USB, I made the trek into town, in search of a printing store. It took me twenty minutes of walking around until I saw a sign for the store that Noortje recommended. Once inside, I gave a man my USB stick, only to find that the computer could not read the USB. With no luck, I tried the six other computers in the office. Tired and frustrated, I left the shop, realizing that the only way for the stick to be read is to delete all the existing files. . .I am not about to delete the "existing files." Disappointed in my uneventful outing, I went back to the guesthouse to find the internet still off (going out into town is fun, but it zaps the energy out of you quickly). 

      I am one of those people who is a little snappy *cough, cough, very much so* when upset (trust me, I am working on it, but it surely is not easy!). I retreated to my room to buzz off some steam and the little homesickness I felt. After having some alone-moments reading my book, I acknowledged how stupid I was to get upset over something so trivial as the USB. . .I could easily borrow someone else's (Maggie's mental growing moment. . .I sound like one of those kindergarten problem solvers).

      For the rest of the day, the power decided to take a slumber and shut off, so I devoted a couple hours to reading and the gym.

- - -

      Happy 4th of July! I do not think I have ever been overly excited for this holiday, but today I am feeling the red, white, and blue (I do not know whether it is physically not being in the U.S., or if I have overnight become ten times more patriotic). I began the morning with the expat morning run ritual, in hopes of creating some space in my stomach for all of the eating that was to be done later in the day. I made the mistake of eating breakfast before the run and I definitely did not receive the "runners high" on the run (it was more like "if we don't stop soon, I am going to hurl"). I made it back to the guesthouse without getting sick. . .hallelujah!

      After a catch-up FaceTime call with my parents and brother, I headed out into the city center with Noortje, Sarah, and Ryan to grocery shop for our American-themed dinner. The girls were in charge of making the apple pie (I made the dough) and salad, while Ryan took on the meat. Inside Nakumat (the supermarket for the times when we do not feel like going into the Central Market), we went over to the meat counter to discover that there was literally no meat. There was no frozen meat, no fresh meat, nada. Ryan asked a store employee what happened to all of the meat, and the employee responded, "The meat people and products did not meet the standards." I thought 'Oh gosh, to not meet standards in Uganda means something must have gone really wrong.'

      With the pie supplies, but no meat, we went to the expat complex, while Ryan went to a local chicken farmer to pick up chicken and bacon (must have been a pig farmer too). We whipped up an extremely good-looking apple pie. I tested to make sure all of our ingredients were edible along the way (a.k.a. excuse for dough and crumble eating). When we were finished, we brought the pie up to Ryan's house and played corn haul with the other expats. We were able to find a 4th of July Pandora station to play throughout the duration of the evening. I was horrified by my corn haul skills. The bean bags were flying all over the place and hitting people, and I think over the course of the game, I placed two bean bags on the actual board and none went through the three-point hole. 

      When it came time for dinner, I held nothing back. As Sarah says, "This is 'Merica day, the uncontrollable fat eating feast". . .isn't that Thanksgiving? Oh well, in Sarah's world of eating, there are multiple "stuffing yourself" occasions (I am starting to like this world). I left the compound feeling full and content with my American meal resting in my belly. All I needed was the fireworks and it would be complete!

Day 25: Cutting Vegetables and the Needs Assessment

July 1: Yesterday morning was dedicated to malnutrition-redecoration preparation. This "active task" required sitting at the dining room table for four hours and cutting out carrots, eggplants, pineapples, tomatoes, and corn from fabric (there is now a visible welt on my thumb from the unforgiving scissors). By the end, I could not keep my eyes open. . .who would have thought that an arts and crafts project could be so mentally exhausting? *Maybe my mental strength needs a few more workouts if cutting things is what I consider tough.* Besides the thumb sores, the morning was relaxing and most everyone in the guesthouse used this time as an "in-house work session."
      In the afternoon, Noortje, Julio, and I headed to the oncology ward to perform a needs assessment. While Noortje and Julio were hunting down Dr. Becky, who is always busy, as she is the sole doctor in the cancer center (she is not even an oncologist, but will be attending school in Britain this fall), I created an inventory for the music and art supplies. Allen will use this inventory to make sure that everything is intact and in one place. Once I finished taking pictures and posting them on a document, I joined the others in the office for the needs assessment meeting. When hearing the responses to the questions, such as "How many patients do you see?" and "Do you have a steady supply of drugs?," the difference between the Ugandan hospital and American hospitals struck me. It is baffling that a center can function without a pharmacist. There are three nurses for every thirty to fifty patients. This small hospital serves an area of eight million people. There are so many places for improvement that it is difficult to decide where to start first. It is important that I state these facts not with a pessimistic mindset, but with the thoughts of the countless opportunities for growth. In order for the clinic to thrive, we need to think in terms of positive development. In this next year, the oncology department will hire six new nurses, a pharmacist, and at least one oncologist. Many minor steps will need to be taken in order to achieve the goals, but I do believe that as cancer's prevalence continues to rise, issues will need to be addressed quicker, and more focus will be placed in this department.
      Our meeting ended half-way through the twenty-page assessment, for Dr. Becky had yet another meeting to attend. Meanwhile, Noortje, Isabel (an i-Search student), and I journeyed to (can you guess where?) aerobics. Halfway through the session, the director announced that we would cut the aerobics session short and for the second half, learn Zumba (a workout that involves repetitive dance moves). The Zumba instructor came into the gym with a flat-cap on and Converse, and I immediately knew this "Zumba" would not be for me (an already extremely challenged dancer). Noortje and I glanced at each other when the instructor started playing the dullest music ever and thrusting his hips. For any of you who have participated in a Zumba class, you may understand how important the music is. . .the music makes or breaks the fun of the session: this music was awful. Now, I have taken a Zumba class in the U.S., and I will be honest and say I thought it was hilarious and amusing, but once the Ugandan class started, I knew that Ugandan Zumba was not for me. I made a fast break from the room before I had to start doing the moves, Noortje and Isabel in tow. We retreated to the weights and lasted for about five minutes before we gave up (my arms are not the strongest to say the least)!
      For dinner, I met with a film crew from Kampala, who are producing a video pertaining to the oncology clinic. Earlier, they had come to film the color run, now they will be filming my project (the music and educational components), and later in July, the crew will be filming the visiting doctors and nurses from MGH. The purpose of the video is to show the progress that is being made in the ward and to document these initial progressive stages.