The Medical Mission: A Cast of Characters

Ba-mzungu means more than one mzungu. For the past seven months Becky and I have pretty much been considered a mzungu. Becky is often called Steve by kids old enough to know better and no matter how short I cut my hair to differentiate myself from Becky, I am also, on too many occasions, referred to as Becky. We deal.

When the medical mission came ba-mzungu was shouted throughout Ddegeya and to Becky and I (as if to say, "Becky, Steve, look, more of you"). But the medical mission was not just ba-mzungu - a lot of fun characters emerged and the kids, somewhat frustratingly, immediately learned all their names with no problems.

Mike with his tattoos was an immediate hit with the kids as they pointed to the various animals on his legs and gave him Luganda 101. "Empolagoma! Lion!" I think at one point he lifted his shirt to show his pistols holstered on his chest. Kinoni reportedly could not stop yelling, "pistols! pistols!" Waswa recalled many of the people from past missions and rolled off names asking who would be in attendance this year, "Kenji? Misty? Joe? Mark?" I didn't know the people who came before and, to be honest, I had no idea who was coming outside a few of the Engeye board members. Walking with some of the doctors was a bit of a hazard - they all had soft spots for the kids with jiggers and various other wounds and often asked Becky or I to try to send them back to the clinic (and to what always seemed to be Dr. Higgins or Kim) for treatment. We didn't really know how to tell them to go to the clinic, "Gende edwaliro. Olaba Dr. Kim," we'd murmur in really poor Luganda. Carlos and Sheryl were especially guilty of having this overflowing compassion. They just couldn't stop treating the villagers. But that was the point.

One of the highlights for me was getting to meet some of the people that clog my gmail inbox with questions that I don't begin to know the answers to. Anny and I first got to hang out on what I've determined to be about a ten mile hike to Kiswera to watch me teach. The conversation went something like this, "Anny, I think you could probably watch me teach if we leave in five minutes, skip lunch, and walk really, really fast. It's far and it is hot in the valley." "Okay, Steve, no problem." She later confessed to me that she wanted to kill me when I told her we were halfway done with the walk about an hour into our trek. The bats in the senior six science classroom and the cattle with three foot horns walking in step with us along the way didn't make the trip easier. The sun absolutely burning the hell out of her skin probably made her feel like she could never go on a walk with me again (I think we walked to Kyamaganda later in the week). Thinking back about Anny's trip makes me laugh at the daily problems she faced. I volunteered to help Anny survey the Engeye plot for an Engineer's Without Border's team. I was out of it that day - I would walk away from my mark, drop things that shouldn't be dropped, forget to measure things, and delay the work in the baking sun as much as possible (unintentionally). I think at one point Anny asked me if I was able to work with lab partners in Physics. Nope - they put me in the basement by myself. It was reported that she hates taking pills - she would pace back and forth with water in one hand and the pill in the other - yet she chose the malaria prophylaxis that is meant to be taken daily. I sort of remember telling her that it would be really unlikely to get malaria. Unfortunately, Anny did get malaria as she was leaving for the United States. Despite the trials that poor Anny went through, she gathered a massive amount of data, taking notes when the rest of us were too lazy and converting my illegible, cryptic scraps of paper into data for good use. Last I heard, the malaria is getting better and she is back to school.

I had met Misty on a rainy day in a Starbuck's nearly one year ago and she also made the trek with Anny and I. In Starbuck's I was pretty awestruck by Misty's demeanor. She had an important exam the next day - she is a third year medical student in an MD/PhD program now on a Fulbright in Japan - but she was busy working on fundraising for the clinic. I think she saw the jaws drop on Becky, Dean McEvoy, and myself and made the comment, "Yeah, Steph and I, we drink a lot of coffee..." Misty has a sort of problem in that everything is positive. "So, this is going to be a 3 hour trip to see me teach for like an hour and a half..." "Yeah, definitely, that sounds like fun. Definitely." As Anny was ready to kill me, Misty was calling for team photos with silly faces. Misty was also one of the "mzungu doctors" that stayed up late and partied - I had just about forgotten that 1AM...2AM... existed. So Misty was one of the several people that I got to know in that regard (along with Dr. Joe, Kim, Mike, Dave, Carlos, Mark, and a few others), which was too much fun. Incredibly, all the doctors were up and ready to go on time every day with incredible determination, professionalism, and passion. I think at one point Mike joked, "So, you and Becky...you have crazy dance parties with guitars and beers every night?"

Dave is another guy who helps make me feel loved by filling my inbox with questions that I have no clue about. Technical questions about laboratory tests (that aren't really meant for me to answer) and then the occasional - "We left behind dangerous chemicals in this container...keep them in a well ventilated area..." Well, shit. But Dave was also too much fun. Dave led nightly walks through Ddegeya (I didn't have the heart to tell him that we were taking the exact same road to nearly the exact same spot every night and that I really didn't want to walk through the bush at night). He's also a pretty mean guitar player. He rocked out to any pop hit of any decade, which might have bothered me in past lives, but I am in American music withdrawal so I had a lot of fun singing along with them too late and too loud for the neighbors. Actually, when you talk about Dave, you can't leave out Mark. Comments about how "Mark is the best roommate I ever had" and "That's not the key we practiced this song [probably N'Sync] in!" can only be described as "cute." Mark was the quiet and modest guy that got along with everyone and was a perfect complement to "Diva" Dave. Dave also set up a meeting with Rakai Health Sciences and it was a good time getting out there and back - a trip of maybe 60 kilometers and everyone seemed surprised that it was an all day affair. Rakai, I learned, is the point where the first case of HIV was diagnosed. They have an incredible health center that does tons of great outreach, testing, treatment, and research - a leading HIV/AIDS research center partnered with big time US partners. Engeye won't be Rakai soon, but it was great to see some of the lab stuff (Misty took pictures of anything that looked remotely expensive, unusual, or colorful) and hear about their outreach and research.

Of course, one of the biggest treats of working with this medical team was getting to know the founder of Engeye a little better. Stephanie is an incredible person and I don't fully understand how she gets everything done, but she somehow does it. Founding and managing a health clinic from a different continent, dealing with all the ethical questions involved with healthcare (patient fees, level of care, pharmacy decisions), keeping the clinic running by fundraising $1000 every month, studying in medical school, dealing with us volunteers, etc. Stephanie has such a down to earth demeanor and is so honest about everything that things just kind of sort themselves out, somehow. Anyways, talking to her about all the things I perceive as problems now and in the future (cultural erosion, lack of healthcare, lack of quality education, climate change, population growth, etc - depressed?) I got a good feeling about how she deals with these things. One step at a time. Education sucks? Well, we can at least distribute pens and pencils to the kids who don't have them. I can teach English (she volunteered in another village 9 years ago). Kids get chiggers? Well, we can distribute shoes for them. (And, healthcare sucks? We can at least build a health clinic 30 kilometers from the nearest city and sustain it by only determination and a lot of all nighters...). Everything seems to be "What is something I can do?" And that is a very inspirational attitude. Nothing is too large to take a chip out of.

Another volunteer that left an impression on me was Brian. She is a professional photographer, although she never really made that seem that important - she's done shoots for major magazines and, from what I'm told, has a pretty nice website, although I think I would have a tough time loading it until I get back to the United States. But what struck me was her rapport with the kids. A shy, shy girl, Mercy, would crawl over and just fall asleep on Brian. Mercy took a month before she would even talk to Becky or I and it even took some time for her to get comfortable with John. And some volunteer walks in and there is an immediate sense of comfort. That was pretty incredible. Brian also went on a hike to Kyamaganda with me to see another health clinic and has a picture of probably the coolest rainbow I've ever seen...I hope that is posted somewhere.

The residents, Sheryl and Faith, and the students, such as Mark and Kim, were so incredible with the patients. I could see a lot of commitment to "getting it right" and treating everything. I remember seeing Faith running a bed all by herself and Sheryl called a patient back after seeing her limp away - the patient didn't complain of a limp, but Sheryl wanted to figure everything out. A lot of the people here see a doctor for a collection of problems - they got their money's worth with this medical team. I would wander into the clinic from time to time to bother a doctor about their handwriting or to flip some of the solar switches and it was so incredible to see all of these professionals who have never seen malaria or typhoid or scabies or whatever other tropical diseases were presenting act so independently and confidently. There was a lot of mutual respect. I remember one of the older doctors telling me, "These kids are talented. Really well trained. Don't get me wrong, they mess up, but they are really good." And the established doctors such as Dr. Higgins, Dr. Bob, Dr. Carlos or Dr. Joe were all independently described as brilliant on multiple occasions by multiple students. It was an impressive orchestration of learning, treating, and advancing the clinic's standards. It was pretty nice to listen in on some of Dr. Higgin's conversations about health care here and in the United States. She also donated the voltage converter which is what allowed Engeye to run the microscope that did the first positive malaria smear (we had used only quick tests in the past).

One of the newer board members, Dr. Carlos, is a great add to the Engeye team. He knows his drugs so well and it was pretty cool to see him figure out price per pill seemingly instantly and figure out what treatments were most efficient for a clinic that charges $1.50 to be seen and treated. Dr. Carlos was a guy who "got it" a lot faster than many of the others. He probably could have negotiated the taxi price just as well as I could have and he had a really good sense about how things could work and how to get things done. He also partied with us and gave me some pretty good laughs.

In all, the clinic saw hundreds of patients over the two weeks and helped deal with a lot of serious conditions that would have otherwise gone untreated. While I lingered on the ba-mzungu component, there was also a host of translators and a cook that made everything run really smoothly. It goes without saying, but John solved every problem and made everything run seamlessly. It was a really, really fun couple of weeks and I got to meet what I felt were 18 incredible people that I hope to run into this spring back in Albany. I remember feeling a pinch of loneliness when everyone had to go - I was the only one left (Becky went to Kampala and I stayed back to do a couple things at the clinic and to teach at Kiswera) and it is tough to go from two Americans to a team of fun, interesting people, to the mzungu duo again. I could tell that the kids were disappointed to see the team go, too. Ba-mzungu spoils the kids and I think everyone loves it (Becky and I know better by now). This transition really made me realize that getting back to the US will be harder than I ever thought or expected. Anyways, thank you ba-mzungu for all your work at the clinic this February and everything you are continuing to do for Engeye.