Part of the battle against any treatment for illness is compliance. And that can include issues of finances, belief systems, transportation, etc. The HIV clinic in Chogoria (and anywhere in Kenya for that matter) is given the name "Comprehensive Care Clinic", or CCC, I think to decrease opportunities for stigmas. The CCC has a mobile clinic that goes to four different villages, each once monthly. Medications, records, our tea & bread are all loaded into a hospital 4x4; as well as two nurses, the PA, and a tech from the pharmacy and laboratory.
It was about a 45 minute drive, first on the highway then a dwindling dirt road through encroaching banana plantations. The countryside looked a bit familiar since this was the way to Meru, the city we traveled to last weekend. Despite this familiarity, something was different and it squeezed my chest. Soon, Marcilio was there. His presence was not joyful, but worrisome and it made me breath faster and tears started falling. Against my good judgement I tried to fall asleep and was out. I woke up during the steep climb up the clinic's driveway.
We were able to refill everyone's meds for a month, take CD4 cell counts via blood sample, and do immediate testing for HIV on the infants at least 6 weeks old. Both children we tested were 18 months old and tested negative, thanks to the education by the CCC about the importance of taking antiretroviral meds during pregnancy and if breastfeeding, making sure the infant is taking a drug called nevirapine. My joy was pretty obvious unlike the mothers', to some its just part of life and others there is a little expression of relief, but overall my perception of the Kenyan people is that they are more reserved with their emotions, especially around "mzungos" or white people. Regardless of that, they are very welcoming and sincere about making your time here enjoyable, even too much at times. Clinic is closed up and the spiders begin their reestablishment of webs.
The trek home begins and I hope to nod off again. It's hotter now and the window's breeze just cakes my face with dust. But eventually I nod off, the pharmacy tech, a young guy named Kevin sitting in the back of the SUV on top of the medications, probably thinks I'm lazy or easily fatigued but oh well! Who knows how much time goes by, and I'm awakened by the shouting of the driver of some profanity in Kiswahili. There's burning branches and boulders forming a barricade across the main highway in front of us. Only seconds have passed but in my waking I blurt out "what's going on?" and expect people to already know. Everyone sits up straighter in their seats to peer out and the mob of people we are approaching. I guess we have to investigate right? Our driver pulls to the side of the road with all the other abandoned vehicles and leaves us to go find out what has happened. I see two police officers with their rifles just standing amongst the crowd not showing their concern. Word is a khat, or miraa, transporter came flying through this community and caused an accident, although their were no casualities. But the civilians were outraged and determined to not let them continue on their way. So of course, the guys in our car jump out to go observe the action and us three, sensible women stay in the car and watch from a deceiving safe 20 meters away. We all know things like this can go bad very quickly. The miraa driver runs out of the crowd, comes back with a machete, and starts slashing through the miraa bags piled on his pickup truck. There are different stories going around, if they are trying to move it by hand into another vehicle or giving it to the village members as payment. Here he is in action...
Thankfully, our driver hears about an alternate route on another little dirt road. He manuvers the vehicle with urgency and too much confidence now, all fired up. His muscular hands wrap around the steering wheel practically crushing it. The alternate route eventually winds us back to the main road and what is that up ahead, a bridge. Blockaded by motorcycles and men. We have to wait for the others to come down the winding trail before we can head up it again. Another ten minutes in the bush and we make it back to the highway probably only a 1/4 mile down it. All is well and Mr. Macho doesn't hurry us home but takes his time at every speedbump to share the news. Back in Chogoria the news really wasn't noteworthy, but mobile clinics might just be out of the question for the rest of the students! My angel was there all along :)
Ok, I have to throw one more picture in, this was when I jumped out of the SUV before it made an insane decent.
* A word about khat (miraa locally)- it's a plant that has been chewed by people in Africa and Asia for thousands of years, it contains an amphetamine-like substance that causes euphoria and is classified by WHO as somewhat addictive (less than tobacco) and is legal in Kenya. Thank you Wiki.
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