Our friends Marcie and JoAnne caught an early flight for Nairobi. We are in awe of their endurance and general "good sport-ness." This is a six-day visit for them that includes Lusaka, Ndola, and Nairobi. After thirty-plus hours of travel just to get on the continent, they have no idea what time zone they're in. Yet they are cheerful and impressively bright! All of us have trouble even making complete sentences when we're jetlagged.
Purity has been joined by Regina for daily visits to the clinic. We have a sinking feeling that these massively infected sores may be much more common than we'd thought. Regina's wound doesn't look as bad as Purity's, but the nurse says it's worse because of its location, low down on the ankle. We noticed that Regina has much more trouble walking than does Purity, the position of the sore being the reason. We learned that Regina is forty-three years old, a widow with nine children, who feeds her family by selling charcoal. Selling charcoal is very hard, heavy work, and with her injury she's been struggling. We asked her if she would like to learn to knit (it's what they call it, though Tracey says it's actually crocheting) and to join the knitting cooperative. Boy would she!
Cheri and Purity at the clinic.
Meanwhile, Jen and Theresa escorted Violet to the dentist for her first consultation. We couldn't help wonder what it must be like to walk into a dental clinic for the first time. No one in Kantolomba EVER goes to a dentist. Even Theresa has never been to the dentist. Theresa translated each step as we went along to make Violet as comfortable as possible. The consultation was quick, the doctor (whose son lives and works in San Jose, CA!) explaining that Violet's sole remaining tooth would need to be pulled, and then they will take impressions to begin making her dentures. Imagine having teeth after many years of having none.
Theresa and Violet in the waiting room at the dentist.
Theresa, Tracey, and Jen are off to Kantolomba for another medical meeting. We are committed to doing everything we can to set up some sort of interim medical care for these folks. And, we've realized it's something that has to be arranged for them in Kantolomba. It's not strictly true that none of them has had any care. We hear many stories of someone going to a clinic, getting a prescription, and having no idea what to do with it. They don't understand their diagnosis, what the medication is meant to do, even how to use the medication. In fact, we suspect part of the situation with the one young woman having menstrual difficulties is that she actually has abdominal tuberculosis and has been taking her medication incorrectly. With tuberculosis, this apparently can lead to dire consequences. We've been told that starting and stopping treatment can cause the tuberculosis to become resistant to medication.
On the last trip, we took a series of photos of Eli at ZMart loading the new stove for the Living Compassion house. Each time we saw him, he would playfully ask where his photograph was. When we handed him the ten photos depicting getting the stove onto his back and into the vehicle, he just kept repeating, "I can't believe it! I can't believe it!" Talk about an ear-to-ear grin! Would that we could all be made so happy by something so simple. We're working on it.
Eli, back in January, when he helped us with our new stove.
Eli (left) and his friends at ZMart.
Tom, Brian, Dave, and Cheri joined the rest of the team in Kantolomba for the micro-finance meeting. It was very fun, and our words are not going to be able to capture it. (Fortunately we have lots of pictures.) The people told us, through Theresa's marvelous translating, what businesses they would like to pursue. We then got their names for follow up meetings. These groups will become the various co-operatives: brick-layers, knitters, tailors, carpenters, etc.
A panorama of the whole scene that Brian created.
Theresa leading the meeting.
Q&A.
Cheri and Everesto listening intently.
Troy takes down names for one of the microfinance groups.
After the meeting.
We started to write that this has been, in many ways, a frustrating trip, but that implies that we're frustrated. We're not. It's just that we're used to making a fair amount of progress, and this time we're simply stalled. We've never run into so many stumbling blocks we just can't manage to budge. There are rumors of electricity, and we are feeling very good about this new man at the electric company, but we hesitate to get our hopes up. We're coming down to the wire on this trip (if you recall we began the process of getting power to the property in April when we hired Gaudencia and approved the building plans), and it looks as if all the big things (electricity, the well, the pump, the water tank--water for the compound!) will not happen this trip. It's disappointing not because we weren't able to accomplish our goals; it's disappointing because people still won't have clean water, the women still won't have electricity for sewing and meeting and reading and studying.
During dinner at home, we learn that Magnus, the last to join our little band, is making his way to Ndola. He's in the Norwegian Special Forces and has just graduated from Harvard. We are eager to meet him.