Uganda love this: TZ

Sadly, my four weeks in Uganda has ended and I am now writing from one of the most serene places in the world that I have ever been, the mountainous Gonja, Tanzania. (If I’m actually able to post this on day that I write this it will be a Gonja miracle as internet is not even up to dial-up speed yet.) My flight left at 5:35 am from Entebbe, meaning I had to leave my apartment at 1:00 am, which, if you know me, means that I obviously did not sleep that night and instead was with my friends and packing up until the last minute. With a full, but heavy heart, and in denial that this amazing part of my journey was over, I slipped out in the middle of the night, just as I had come.

After two short and uneventful flights, I touched down at Kilimanjaro International Airport to a bright, sunny morning. Immediately, I was struck by the beauty of this country. As I stepped off the plane I was met with a beautiful backdrop of mountains, bright pink flowers, clean cut green shrubbery and crisp, fresh air. Traveling in Kampala was a lot of like traveling with a hyperactive 7 year old; it was adventuresome, covered in dirt, really fun, full of laughter, but always a little bit crazy. Arriving in Tanzania, I felt like that 7 year old was replaced by Ghandi. The calmness and serenity was undeniable. As a stepped out of the airport I couldn’t find my driver, but within seconds there were helpful, friendly guides that gave me a Plan B if my driver didn’t show up. After standing outside of what I thought was a locked bathroom for 5 minutes (turns out I just pushed the door the wrong way :D-hey-I hadn’t slept okay?), my driver finally did arrive and we were on our way. My driver, Eligama, was not the strongest in English but made up for it with enthusiastic smiles and saying “ya, ya” a lot whenever I asked questions. Within the first few minutes he pointed out the snow covered peak of Kilimanjaro. Stupidly, my first thought was, “Wow, that is like, a real mountain” followed by, “OMG, I am going to supposedly climb that mountain in a couple of weeks.” The sight, even though it was mostly cloud covered, was amazing and aided in my anticipation of the trip.

As we left, Eligama told me we would be driving for a few hours and then would start on a very rough road that would take us basically straight up the mountain to Gonja. After a couple of hours of driving through sprawling green fields with women in colorful traditional clothing carrying baskets on their heads, we finally ascended the mountain towards Gonja. I cannot overemphasize how beautiful this drive was, the views of the layered blue mountain silhouettes, the green hills, the beautifully clothed Tanzanians dotting the miles and miles of farmland, and then finally, the breathtaking drive up the mountain to Gonja. Every two minutes Eligama would patiently stop so I could take yet another photo that couldn’t quite capture the beauty I was seeing. (Also, I would love to upload these for you, but by the time that happens I will be back in the States).

Finally, we arrived to Gonja Lutheran Hospital, which is a mission hospital campus nestled in the side of a mountain. It serves all the people that live on the mountain and without it, many of these people would be completely without health care. The hospital has under gone several renovations and is now a white and blue two-story hospital with open balconies that face the valley of the mountain below. Roaming the halls of the hospital are women in beautiful dresses and wraps, doting on their family members or patiently waiting to go into labor. (Women come up here and stay for weeks just so they can be sure they deliver with a provider to help them.) The hospital is grounded in very strong Christian faith and every morning the hospital staff starts their day with prayers in Swahili. Patients have their own area where they can cook, clean and do laundry. The hospital director on staff stays in the house next to mine and his wife is a nurse who works at the hospital as well. Overall the hospital has about 47 employees, but really there are about 20 main ones. It is definitely a close knit community and since my arrival I have been continually astonished at how friendly everyone is. So far, I’ve learned that Tanzanian’s favorite word is “Karibu” which means “Welcome.” They say it to me every time I enter a room and I have been told no less than 30 times since arrival that I should “feel at home.” We ended our tour in the hospital “cafeteria” where I met my mom away from home, Mama Joyce. I want you to picture the friendliest, most beautiful, and impeccably traditionally dressed, older African woman in your head-that is Mama Joyce. She exudes warmth and comfort and within minutes was serving me amazing African tea, rice and beans. She makes each and every meal for me here and I’m seriously contemplating trying to take her home with me so she can take care of me in residency.

Mama Joyce and I

My house!

View of the patient's kitchen from my house

Also within a few hours of arriving here I met a Tanzanian friend, whom a previous DMU’er who rotated here told me to contact. Chediel Daniel, is again, one of the warmest and most welcoming people I have met. (I know I’m being redundant but it is so true-these people are so nice!). After only meeting me for an hour, he invited me to his church the next morning. Bright and early Sunday morning he picked me up so we could walk to his church. After about 40 minutes of walking we arrived to a quaint white church with stained glass windows, planted just on top of a hill within the mountain. After the service, which consisted of three different offerings (one of which consists of farmers literally bringing their first harvest of beans, corn, etc. to the altar), some beautiful songs from the choir of 6 and a live auction of fresh fruit, we headed back towards our homes. On our way back we stopped at Chediel’s family store where his mom had prepared us fried bananas, beef, avocados, rice and African tea. His dad sat down with us and after a few hours and some traditional African drinks (apparently Africans love Sunday Funday just as much as I do), his dad invited me to his sister’s wedding sendoff next Saturday and insisted I stay at their house. He said, “My house is your house” at least 15 times. We eventually started heading back toward our homes but not before we stopped at met more of Chediel’s friends and stopped at his grocery store. I made it back just in time for Mama Joyce’s wonderful dinner and crawled into bed exhausted but in shock at how this experience never stops surprising me. Although I arrived in Tanzania feeling very homesick for my friends, life, hospital and dorm style living in Kampala, I have met so many wonderful people here and know that this experience is going to be amazing as well, just in a very different way. I feel so thankful that they have opened up their homes, kitchens and churches to me and am excited for the weeks to come!