01 October 2016

INVISIBLE WOMEN

     I have just been doing my Saturday morning shopping and it has happened for the third time.  I walk into a butchery and wait patiently for one of the men behind the counter to serve me.  A man walks up behind me and they ask him what he wants.  They serve up his ground meat and then notice that I am standing there and say, "Oh, what do you want?" 

     The second time it happened I was in a little shop and had put my two items on the counter when a man squeezed himself at the counter and started giving his orders.  At almost the same time another man hollered behind the three other women waiting behind me that he wanted this and that.  The store keeper asked if my items belonged to the first man and I replied that they were mine and I had been waiting first.  He quickly took my money and got rid of me. 

     The first time it happened, the vegetable stand was busy and it was on International Women's Day.  I was politely waiting my turn as an elderly African woman was in front of me.  The men knew me well.  I was a regular customer.  A young Arab woman in a hijab swoops past me and was immediately served while I patiently waited for them to finish. When I asked them why they didn't serve me as I had been waiting patiently they just said sorry.  I didn't go back for some months but have finally put aside my pride and returned.  When I showed up today he could see I was sullen.  He asked me if everything was OK.  I didn't answer. He gave me an extra tomato and onion.  I told him what happened at the butchery.  I am white and usually get preferential treatment.  So if I am invisible/ignored it makes me wonder what happens to older African women who have none of the privilege that I have.  It makes me mad and I get a glimpse of what other invisible people feel...especially women.

Bethany Klueg with Teresa Villaruz

                FAREWELL AGAIN!!!

     Our Kenya region is saying goodbye once again.  Teresa has moved on to continue her ministry in Bolivia. She was happiest with the children she taught and they will miss her.  She worked in Kibarani, an informal settlement which had some of the poorest people who live in Mombasa.  It was hard work and very frustrating at times.  The children under her tutelage were very blessed and will carry her in their hearts for loving them so much.  We wish her well as she begins studying Spanish in Bolivia.  She may be invisible to us now but she is very visible to those in Bolivia!!!

     More invisible women.  We have had another terror attack in Mombasa.  Three young women went to the central police station a couple of blocks from where I live at 10:30am on Sept. 18th. They claimed they were reporting a lost phone. Two of them pulled out knives and stabbed two police officers in the neck and back. The other threw a petrol bomb at the station.  One of the officers shot the two who were still outside.  The leader inside blew herself up.  The so called Islamic State has claimed responsibility.  Rumor has it they planned to cause confusion at the police station and then go to the nearby Anglican and Catholic Cathedrals with their bombs.  Who knows.  I felt sick to my stomach when I heard about one of the officers who was 4 months pregnant and missed the knifing because she bent down to pick up a book.  She is so terrified she won't let anyone open the windows in her room in the hospital.
     I believe that these young women, only 19 or 20, were brainwashed, used and perhaps even drugged to cause such horror.  Now, it will be hard to trust a person in this type of dress.  They may be female or male and can carry anything underneath.  It is a big turning point for Mombasa in this age of violence.  After that followed the violent incidents in NY, New Jersey, St. Cloud Minnesota and Charlotte North Carolina. So we are not the only ones with this problem.  I picked this picture off the internet because the invisible women are three and look like women here in Mombasa who wear the hijab (black veil and gown) and niqab (face mask).  But guess what???  They are not Muslim women.  They are Jewish women from Yemen!!!  More food for thought as I make a wrong assumption once again.  We must learn to sink into love so that fear will be kept at bay. Otherwise, terrorism wins straight away.
     My voting ballot arrived 24th Sept.  I completed it on the 25th and mailed it on the 26th.  Now it is in the hands of the Kenya postal system.  I did my best and we'll all have to live with the results when half of us are disappointed.  My friends here are concerned as they have to live with what we choose and they have no say in the matter.  The President of the USA is a very powerful person in this world.

PEACE OF OUR INVISIBLE GOD 

MADE VISIBLE IN CREATION

HAPPY FEAST OF ST. FRANCIS

ON 4TH OCTOBER

WHICH CONCLUDES OUR

CELEBRATION OF THE

SEASON OF CREATION

23RD OCTOBER

 WORLD MISSION SUNDAY

WE ARE INSTRUMENTS OF GOD'S MERCY!

01 September 2016

HELLO AND GOODBYE

     I was walking to the store one Saturday morning and saw Shima at the street corner with her two teenage sons, busily talking to someone, both hunched over their phones.  She lives in the house downstairs, having left Yemen last year because of the war.  Her mother, originally from Yemen, owns our house and her husband is from Yemen.  I just passed by, deciding not to disturb them.  A few minutes later I felt an arm around my shoulder.  I looked to see Shima saying HELLO and smiling broadly.  I put my arm around her waist and we continued walking on, arm in arm, catching up on our lives.  We must have made quite a picture....she is 40 wearing her black hijab (cloak like covering over all her clothes from the neck to the feet) and her veil. I am 60 wearing a T-shirt with a picture of Oscar Romero on the front and a bit of one of his homilies in Spanish on the back with white cotton pants.  Her friendship made my day...made me feel like I belong here.

Diabetes training session
Mombasa Community Based Health Care

     The past several months I have been doing continuing medical education training at our health units on diabetes.  I enjoy teaching and am able to mix Swahili and English to suit the needs of the group.  Diabetes is becoming a major chronic illness as life styles change. People in Kenyan cities are not as physically active as in the past.  They have taken to eating more fast foods and processed foods while spending more time at computers and phones than working in the fields.  So the clinics in the rural areas show people underweight and the cities find people, even youngsters in grade school, overweight, especially when both parents work.  We are trying to train our nurses to provide more education on healthy lifestyles and screen people who are over the age of 45, especially if they are overweight.  I rarely saw diabetes when I worked in Tanzania and South Sudan. But Kenya is becoming a middle income country and is following the bad habits that come along with modernization.

Russ Brine -  A Quiet Presence

     We are saying GOODBYE to one of our longest serving members in the Kenya region. Russ Brine came in 2001 and has given most of his service to the Bosco Street Children's Rehabilitation program in Kitale.  He is trained both as a lawyer and a certified public accountant but his humble persona would never belie this truth.  His heart is with the children and his passion is to see them feel loved and live happy lives.  I had the good fortune to assist when I lived in Kitale in western Kenya.  We were able to work together with some of the children who were interested to become health care workers.  Two young Turkana men volunteered at our hospital and eventually did choose health care professions. One is now working as a nurse and the other is studying to become a doctor.  The good news is that Russ with remain with Maryknoll Lay Missioners and is moving to Cambodia to continue serving in overseas mission.  We are happy to share our jewel with others!!!

    As you can see, Russ is sitting in a beautiful garden which he has helped the children to plant.  He was always our tree man, interested in different types and planting in honor of different visitors. Which leads me to my last thought...

September 1 was proclaimed as the World Day of Prayer for Creation by the Orthodox Church in 1989, and many other Christian churches have joined since then, with Pope Francis most recently in 2015. It was then extended to be a month-long Season of Creation, ending on October 4 (Feast of St. Francis).

http://seasonofcreation.org/

http://catholicclimatemovement.global/act/
http://catholicclimatemovement.global/petition/

MAY THE PEACE OF A HUMMINGBIRD

AND THE BEGINNING OF AUTUMN 

BE WITH YOU

LETS CELEBRATE AND ENJOY

THIS SEASON OF CREATION!!!

01 August 2016

GOD'S PROTECTION

NJENJE - HUNTINGTON SPIDER

     When I worked in the dry heat of Toposaland in S. Sudan we had many Hunting spiders that usually came out in the evenings and moved extremely fast.  A visitor came and I gave her my bed.  Since it was unbearably hot I was sleeping on a mat on the floor without a mosquitoe net.  I wasn't wearing much either. I turned off the light and was laying on my stomach when I felt something scurry down the left side of my back from my shoulder to my foot.  I was pretty sure it was this spider but just lay there thinking about it.  When it happened a second time I jumped up, turned on the solar light, grabbed one of my flip flops and, while standing on one foot with the other flip flop, I clobbered it in the corner of the room and smashed it to smithereens.  So much for the nonviolent pacifist in me.

     Since I've returned to Kenya the nominations for the presidential candidates have been receiving wide coverage on the BBC and in the local press. Many Kenyans have asked me what is going to happen.  They are mostly terrified that the next President will have a bad effect on their lives.  There is no question that the President of the USA will affect people in the rest of the world one way or another.  Our Archbishop seems to be the calmest about the matter.  He said that, regardless of who is elected, we will just have to adjust to him...or her. 

     The other thought that comes to my mind this month is the anniversary of the atomic bombs which the USA dropped on the 6th of August 1945 on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.  They killed hundreds of thousands of civilians and almost completely destroyed the landscape.  But today Japan has rebuilt the cities and survived the horror.

     A while back I was staying in a small room for the night while doing a clinic away from home.  It was a dreadfully hot night but I had a bed, a mosquito net and a fan.  Again, I wasn't wearing much in the way of clothes.  I awoke at 3am and while laying on my stomach I felt something scurry down the left side of my back from my shoulder to my foot.  It sure felt like a Hunting spider but I had never heard of them on the coast in hot, humid Mombasa.  I lay there in a daze and then I felt the same scurry go up my right leg.  I jumped up, turned on the solar light and right there in the bed next to me was a Hunting spider!!!  I jumped out of bed but this time I was about 20 years older so the jump was more like a spasm as I had to get my leg over the spider and my body under the net in one fell swoop.  After that I turned on the light and groped for my glasses as the eyes aren't what they used to be.  I grabbed my flip flops...one on the foot and one in the hand and thought, "How am I going to find this critter?"  To my surprise s/he was sitting, clearly visible, in the corner of the room.  With the swiftness of my youth I clobbered it with my flip flop and made sure it was dead.  I didn't pulverize the poor thing as I had in the past.  Otherwise you wouldn't have this nice picture to verify my story.

     So, you may be wondering what is the point of all this meandering thought?  The point is... that after two very close encounters with a poisonous spider that can cause illness and sometimes death I am still here.  Despite the immense violence and suffering that happened in Japan they have rebuilt their cities and become a nation of pacifists.  Article 9 of their constitution outlaws war as a means to settle international disputes involving the state.  "The Japanese people forever renounce war and the threat of use of force."

     I will certainly vote in our elections using an absentee ballot as I have done in every election while oversees.  I hope every US citizen will do their duty and participate in the electoral process.  And then we will adjust to the change of leadership and carry on.  If we make the wrong choice there will be suffering and hardship.  But we can learn from it and become a better nation. 

MAY THE PEACE OF THE LOVER,

THE BELOVED

AND LOVE

PROTECT AND GUIDE US ALWAYS

  

01 July 2016

St. Francis Primary School

GREETINGS FROM MOMBASA

     I'm back to work after a wonderful break at home with my family and friends.  Yesterday I went to visit the school where my housemate, Teresa, teaches fifth and sixth graders.  (Notice the light around her head...similar to a halo!) She has also started up a library.  This photo shows pictures from calendars in the library that one of my donors sent to us.

     I look at these young girls and feel a bit concerned.  They come from one of the most needy informal settlements built on the side of a hill which turns to slippery, sloshy mud when it rains.  I'm almost afraid to imagine what constitutes 'home' and a 'family' for each one of them.

     The newspaper today reports about a girl in sixth grade who became pregnant.  No doubt she was terrified and her 'boyfriend' gave her some pills to get rid of the baby.  The pills only caused her terrible abdominal pains.  She confessed to the headteacher her attempt to abort the baby.  So, they made her go to the police station to record a statement.  Next, the police detained her in a cell for four days announcing she was under arrest!  Finally when she became very ill they took her to the hospital and admitted her under police guard.  It took the doctors another day to do the surgical procedure she needed because the operating room schedule was 'full'.  I wonder where the boy is???  Fortunately she survived.

     Teresa asked me if I would share some of my experiences in South Sudan as part of their geography class.  We had a book written about The Lost Boys of Sudan, some of whom I had met and cared for during their perilous journeys from Sudan to Ethiopia, back into Sudan and down to Kenya.  As we read the book together I realized that no matter how hard the lives of these children are in this place, it doesn't compare to what happens to children during war.  Children had to drink their own urine when there was no water, scavenge for leaves and roots in the forest for food, swim across a river filled with crocodiles and walk at night to avoid the burning sun, the airplanes with bombs and wild animals that roam around looking for food.  Unfortunately, South Sudan is still filled with violence, hatred and terrible suffering.  The same must be true for Syria and for all of the millions of migrants desperate to risk their lives to reach Europe.

     The line from the book that I choose to remember is a quote from one of the older boys caring for the younger ones.  He said, "We were never lost.  God always knew where we were."

     The young boy I wrote about last month is back in the hospital to have surgery to repair his colostomy and allow him to pass stool normally.  He is doing well and we hope he will be discharged soon.  I doubt he remembered me.  But he wasn't terrified to see me and was happy to get a warm hug. Love really is the best medicine.

    As I write this the Imam is singing his evening prayers.  This is the Holy Month of Ramadhan with fasting, prayers and works of charity for Muslims.  When they see the new moon next week they will celebrate coming closer to God through these practices.  It is a great reminder to me that we are all searching for a way to come closer to God, each in our own way.

PEACE OF THE GOD WHO ALWAYS KNOWS WHERE WE ARE AND IS ALWAYS WITH US.

01 June 2016

FIST BUMP WITH MY NEWEST PATIENT

FALLING IN LOVE

     I write from Minnesota but I start with my newest patient in Kenya, Bob (not his real name).  I left Mombasa on the 16th of May having planned my schedule to help me finish everything piled up on my desk.  That got blown to smithereens on May 6th when I got a phone call from Triza, the lawyer working in St. Patrick Parish where I do a clinic each month.  She has been working with womens' groups to create awareness about children's rights.  They informed her about two children who were in trouble.  When she found Bob she called me. 

     Bob was in a small village two hours away and he needed specialized surgery.  So I advised her to bring him to Mombasa and met them at the hospital on Friday night along with the only pediatric surgeon on the coast of Kenya.  His catchment population is 3.8 million people but only 30% are children.

                      The surgeon was excellent.  On Saturday he did the first necessary procedure and on Sunday he did the major surgery.  On Monday morning we found such horrible nursing care we started to organize volunteers to stay with Bob around the clock. Norah, the social worker at St. Patrick's, was put in charge of organizing youth, church women and a Muslim man who knew his local language to help. Bob comes from a very dysfunctional family, the third of eight children.  His two older brothers have already died.  He does not speak but within the first day of being surrounded by loving kindness I could already see a big change in  his behavior.

SUSAN, NORAH, TRIZA, BOB

      Unfortunately the breach in nursing care caused a big infection and Bob had to go back to surgery on Thursday. The surgeon wanted to transfer him to another hospital which had much better nursing care but I couldn't afford it. We redoubled our efforts and I found myself teaching nursing duties to every person in the room helping to care for him.  We couldn't afford to mess up again.  And we didn't.  Before I left I paid $3000 on his hospital bill. Thanks to all my donors who give me money just for things like this. He wasn't discharged until a few days later and he will need another surgical procedure in June.  We've found other donors to help with those bills.  He has been accepted to a children's home that has offered to care for him until he is 18 years old.  He has found an older boy at the home with his same name who speaks his local language and also has special challenges mentally.  They have become the best of friends.

     As I said goodbye to him the day before I left I found a tear welling up in my eye...no small feat for someone with Sjogren's syndrome! (We have dry eyes.)   I usually do well keeping a good distance emotionally from my patients but this time I failed.  All the women in this picture failed.  We all fell in love with him. They send me pictures of him and I will see him myself when I return to Kenya on June 25th.  Without such a committed team of people who worked very hard to take care of Bob we could never have helped him recover.

MOM, JEAN, SUSAN, EMILY

     I have just attended the wedding of my niece and goddaughter.  There were more tears as two young people committed their lives to one another and thereby brought more love into our world.  Now I am on my way to Illinois and looking forward to reconnecting with many loving people there as well!

PEACE OF THE ONE WHO IS UNCONDITIONAL LOVE FOR OUR WORLD AND EACH ONE OF US!

     

01 May 2016

HEALTH COMMITTEE ST. PATRICK DISPENSARY

FAREWELL

       At the center of this picture is Judy Walter.  I attended the Committee meeting for St. Patrick Dispensary with Fr. Gabriel Dolan and the Kenyan members in March.  Judy helped to open this clinic in June 2011 in Bangaladesh, the poorest informal settlement (slum) in Mombasa.  She has just moved to Tanzania and will continue as a Maryknoll Lay Missioner.  She has retired from nursing and will be helping to open a House of Prayer.  We already miss her greatly but are thrilled that she will continue to serve by opening new doors in this year of Mercy!

     Last year I had a 17 year old girl with insulin dependent diabetes mellitus.  She was attending a clinic about an hour away from Mombasa and she always came with her father...both very simple quiet people.  I had never seen Lucy smile.  She was extremely thin and although we provided all of her care free she never gained an ounce over 9 months.  I would take them in my car on the way home and drop them them off to walk a long distance to their remote village.  It was just before Christmas and her dress was so thread bare and tattered I wanted to buy a new one for Christmas. But I knew that the whole family would need clothes and this just wasn't feasible.  I had been given two big papaya fruits and as she got out of the car I gave them to her...the only thing I had at the moment. It was the first time I saw her smile.  What she, and the whole family, needed was food.  

     We transferred her care to St. Patrick Dispensary where they had a feeding program.  Even though she and her father had to get in a boat to go there it was actually closer to their village!  She was put on the feeding program and linked up with Nora, the social worker.  Nora is young, vivacious and could get her to talk. Lucy has now gained 12 pounds and looks beautiful.  Her diabetes is better controlled and she has a support group of people her own age to meet with.

     Who would think that a clinic in a slum would be helpful to someone as poor and sick as Lucy.  The group of people in this picture is testament to what can be done when we care about the health care of others, especially those most in need, work together and spend money for the purpose for which it is intended.   

      I give a great deal of credit to Judy Walter.  Everyday she got on public transportation which is hot, noisy and reckless to go to work.  She battled with the local government to get support for medicines and supplies.  She never succeeded despite the fact that her clinic provided the only health care for 50,000 people.  The government has no health facility in Bangaladesh.  She built up a staff of caring competent health workers who put the patient first and go look for those most in need.  My role was to support and advise them when I would come once a month for a clinic.  It is one of the best run clinics in the Archdiocese of Mombasa and I looked forward to working with them every month.

HAPPY FEAST OF ST. JOSEPH THE WORKER

MAY WE NOT ONLY PRAY BUT WORK FOR PEACE

01 April 2016

St. Josephine Bakhita
Patroness of Human Trafficking

HAPPY EASTER

     We had beautiful liturgies for Holy Week at the Cathedral here in Mombasa.  With all the heat I truly do not know how the priests survived the long ceremonies with the many layers of clothes they were wearing.

     On Holy Thursday I witnessed, for the first time in Kenya, the priest washing the feet of women and children.  One of our friends, Cecelia, a 90 year old woman whose family was from Goa, India, was chosen for this ritual.  Fr. Correa, an 80 year old priest whose family was also from Goa, knelt down to wash her feet.  It was allowed because Pope Francis set this example last year.  Fr. Correa had to be very careful in explaining to the parishioners. He said that he hoped that this wouldn't cause problems for some people.  He said that things change and now we must change too.

     For the Stations of the Cross we Maryknoll Lay Missioners used the  Way of the Cross of Human Trafficked Victims.   These were prepared by Sr. Mary O'Malley, MMM who has worked with these people.  I have known that trafficking  is common here on the Coast but now I have my own personal experience.

     When I went to Likoni Dispensary Sr. Susan met me immediately.  She was very distraught and wanted me to see a woman before she ran away.  We will call her Josephine.  Josephine was a huge woman who had come to this clinic claiming that she was pregnant and demanding a card to prove it. The staff could find no signs of pregnancy and she looked much too old to be pregnant.  She had come twice before over the past several years, had taken a prenatal card and later returned with a baby for the immunization clinic.  Sr. Susan was very suspicious of her circumstances.     

     So, my first encounter was with a woman who had a two year old child clinging to her dress and she claimed this was her child.  She looked more like the grandmother and I, too, could find no sign of pregnancy.  None of my training or experience had prepared me for this.

     I called a social worker I knew and she could offer no advice.  So I called a lawyer who works at another parish in the Archdiocese and she told me we needed to call the police.  Yikes!!! The police are the last people I call when I have a problem because they are so corrupt.  This woman would surly run away as soon as she saw them.  So, I asked the woman to come to another clinic I was doing in two days nearby, ostensibly so that I could recheck the little boy and herself.  She agreed and we began to make our plans.

     First of all Sr. Susan needed to get the approval of the Parish Priest (Pastor).  He told us, in justice, we needed to proceed and to his credit he supported us.  Next step was getting the police to come to the next clinic.  We sent the social worker of the HIV clinic to the police station on that very morning.

     When the day came I was relieved that Josephine showed up at 9am.  I notified the social worker. He was still with the police.  I feigned needing to care for more sickly patients but by 10:30am Josephine was getting restless so I brought her into my office.  While she was undressing I was texting the social worker telling him to come quickly.  He said they were on their way...a common euphemism when someone doesn't want to tell you exactly how far or near they are!  After a nice long exam done as slowly as possible I opened the door to see a police officer's uniform.  I told Josephine to get her things together and I would be back.
     The female officer had seen Josephine through the open door and said she knew her.  She ran a children's home. I reviewed our concerns and they told me to just let her leave the office and they would confront her for questioning.  Their investigation took all day and even led them to the local prison.  Josephine is 58 and her husband is 29.  He, of course, wanted children.  So she would pretend she was pregnant and then buy children from local prostitutes when they delivered their babies.  She paid as much as $1000.

     Who knows the story of Josephine's life?  Maybe she herself was trafficked as a child.  Perhaps each of us is capable of the evils that led to the crucifixion of Jesus.
     I share with you this banner of St. Josephine Bakhita that hangs in my parish of St. Patrick's in Urbana.  It was made by a good friend in the parish, Pat, who uses her wonderful talents to bring beauty and inspiration to our prayer space. Bakhita suffered horribly at the hands of her owners but she found life when she came to know about Christ.  It is said that she wished she had known him earlier to have helped ease her sufferings.  Pat placed a butterfly on her chest as a symbol of new life.  The chains on her wrists are broken and her hands are open in welcome and service.
     As an aside, Pat used different textiles from parishioners to make her banners.  The blue skirt Bakhita is wearing is actually from a dress of mine made from material from Kenya!
     So, I wish you the joy of Easter which we should celebrate all the way up to Pentecost...as my mother would often remind us.

PEACE OF THE RISEN CHRIST TO YOU!!!!