Ken Russo is spending three months this winter volunteering at The Baobab Home, an orphanage in Bagamoyo, Tanzania that provides care for children with HIV/AIDS. He is documenting his fascinating experiences and sends us periodic updates from his journal. Here is his latest entry. Read about his whole journey starting back at the end of January …
Monday, February 8
Yesterday was a free day but I checked in at Terri’s to see Steve. He looked remarkably better now that the oxygen was flowing properly. It took Terri 3 days to get the right parts for the oxygen tank and apparatus and then, missing the key that starts the oxygen flowing, she had to track down a technician and a key here in Bagamoyo at the local hospital.
Terri told me that the previous evening her son and 2 of his young friends took turns massaging Steve’s back. She had tears in her eyes recounting that sweet story.
Steve’s grandmother visited on Saturday and even though she was crying throughout her visit Steve seemed curiously detached. I suspect he feels abandoned by his grandmother as she had not been to visit in weeks. I sat with Steve for a while massaging his back. When I stopped momentarily he patted his back for me to continue.
Sunday afternoon I walked through the decaying but picturesque old town section of Bagamoyo. The name means “leave your heart”. Bagamoyo was a major slave trading port with slaves being transported for sale in Arab countries. Many of the buildings were actually prison cells and were the last thing the unfortunate people would ever see of Africa before being packed into the sweltering, stinking holds of the slave trader’s ships.
Tanzania was a German colony before being taken over by the British. Several buildings at the beach clinic are from the colonial period.
Today William was not in the kitchen as he was seeking relief for a bad toothache. He had little success getting treatment and will probably have to make his way to Dar es Salaam for proper care. That’s if he can afford it as dental is not part of the free health care provided to all Tanzanians. They gave him antibiotics and said to come back in a week. I have given him advil for the pain but I don’t think it’s making a dent in his discomfort..
After a quiet morning at the clinic I spent several hours with Caroline a 19 year old volunteer from Denmark. Such a poised and charming young woman who speaks unaccented English. She is teaching English and also working with Baobab’s infants. We went to the produce market and I purchased a pineapple for $1 and a bunch of bananas for 30 cents. The market is packed with local organic produce and is filled with women shoppers in colorful, traditional clothing. It’s a visual feast. We talked about trying to find a way to take the street boys that Baobab has educated to a national park about 2 hours north of Bagamoyo. If we can work out the details it would be an excursion the boys have never taken. They have never seen the amazing wildlife that Africa is famous for world wide.
Tuesday, February 9
Watched a movie on my lap top last night called “The White Maasai” based on a true story about a Swiss woman marrying a Maasai man and living with his people. The culture clash was extreme and ultimately she took her daughter back to Switzerland and never saw her husband again.
There are many Maasai in Bagamoyo. They are generally employed as guards or night watchmen. They wear their traditional garb and have such regal bearing. They are extremely polite and reserved. The men have their 2 front lower teeth extracted (I have yet to find the reason why) and they have ritual scarring on their faces.
I take back what I said about the heat and humidity not being overly oppressive. The first four days there was a strong, steady breeze now the air is still. It’s been this way for the last 5 days. It feels like you’re swimming when you walk and your clothes are sopping wet by 9am. The locals must feel the heat also as they all carry handkerchiefs to mop their brows.
After dropping Shobani and Habibu at pre-school Terri phoned. It seems the oxygen machine stopped working and Steve had a rough night. He woke up demanding to be taken to his grandmother so she could take him to the witch doctor. This is what the locals call healers. Terri said he has been to this traditional healer before. He cuts Steve’s arms with unsterilized razor blades and rubs the open cuts with a mixture of herbs. I’m sure there is value in this if only because Steve truly believes in the efficacy of the treatment. But we all know AIDS is a different matter altogether. When the previous president of South Africa, Thabo Mbeki, made a speech telling those with HIV to reject western medicine and seek only traditional care the death toll skyrocketed.
In the early afternoon I took Steve to the clinic here in town. Steve was petulant and uncooperative. The doctor wanted to admit him to administer oxygen until Terri returns from Dar tonight. Steve flatly refused. He is frightened and angry and I get it completely. They gave me meds for his urinary infection and his mood brightened considerably as soon as we got back to Terri’s. I spent the rest of the afternoon watching movies with him and he seemed happy to have the company.
Monday, February 8
Yesterday was a free day but I checked in at Terri’s to see Steve. He looked remarkably better now that the oxygen was flowing properly. It took Terri 3 days to get the right parts for the oxygen tank and apparatus and then, missing the key that starts the oxygen flowing, she had to track down a technician and a key here in Bagamoyo at the local hospital.
Terri told me that the previous evening her son and 2 of his young friends took turns massaging Steve’s back. She had tears in her eyes recounting that sweet story.
Steve’s grandmother visited on Saturday and even though she was crying throughout her visit Steve seemed curiously detached. I suspect he feels abandoned by his grandmother as she had not been to visit in weeks. I sat with Steve for a while massaging his back. When I stopped momentarily he patted his back for me to continue.
Sunday afternoon I walked through the decaying but picturesque old town section of Bagamoyo. The name means “leave your heart”. Bagamoyo was a major slave trading port with slaves being transported for sale in Arab countries. Many of the buildings were actually prison cells and were the last thing the unfortunate people would ever see of Africa before being packed into the sweltering, stinking holds of the slave trader’s ships.
Tanzania was a German colony before being taken over by the British. Several buildings at the beach clinic are from the colonial period.
Today William was not in the kitchen as he was seeking relief for a bad toothache. He had little success getting treatment and will probably have to make his way to Dar es Salaam for proper care. That’s if he can afford it as dental is not part of the free health care provided to all Tanzanians. They gave him antibiotics and said to come back in a week. I have given him advil for the pain but I don’t think it’s making a dent in his discomfort..
After a quiet morning at the clinic I spent several hours with Caroline a 19 year old volunteer from Denmark. Such a poised and charming young woman who speaks unaccented English. She is teaching English and also working with Baobab’s infants. We went to the produce market and I purchased a pineapple for $1 and a bunch of bananas for 30 cents. The market is packed with local organic produce and is filled with women shoppers in colorful, traditional clothing. It’s a visual feast. We talked about trying to find a way to take the street boys that Baobab has educated to a national park about 2 hours north of Bagamoyo. If we can work out the details it would be an excursion the boys have never taken. They have never seen the amazing wildlife that Africa is famous for world wide.
Tuesday, February 9
Watched a movie on my lap top last night called “The White Maasai” based on a true story about a Swiss woman marrying a Maasai man and living with his people. The culture clash was extreme and ultimately she took her daughter back to Switzerland and never saw her husband again.
There are many Maasai in Bagamoyo. They are generally employed as guards or night watchmen. They wear their traditional garb and have such regal bearing. They are extremely polite and reserved. The men have their 2 front lower teeth extracted (I have yet to find the reason why) and they have ritual scarring on their faces.
I take back what I said about the heat and humidity not being overly oppressive. The first four days there was a strong, steady breeze now the air is still. It’s been this way for the last 5 days. It feels like you’re swimming when you walk and your clothes are sopping wet by 9am. The locals must feel the heat also as they all carry handkerchiefs to mop their brows.
After dropping Shobani and Habibu at pre-school Terri phoned. It seems the oxygen machine stopped working and Steve had a rough night. He woke up demanding to be taken to his grandmother so she could take him to the witch doctor. This is what the locals call healers. Terri said he has been to this traditional healer before. He cuts Steve’s arms with unsterilized razor blades and rubs the open cuts with a mixture of herbs. I’m sure there is value in this if only because Steve truly believes in the efficacy of the treatment. But we all know AIDS is a different matter altogether. When the previous president of South Africa, Thabo Mbeki, made a speech telling those with HIV to reject western medicine and seek only traditional care the death toll skyrocketed.
In the early afternoon I took Steve to the clinic here in town. Steve was petulant and uncooperative. The doctor wanted to admit him to administer oxygen until Terri returns from Dar tonight. Steve flatly refused. He is frightened and angry and I get it completely. They gave me meds for his urinary infection and his mood brightened considerably as soon as we got back to Terri’s. I spent the rest of the afternoon watching movies with him and he seemed happy to have the company.
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