Nick and Tessa in Kisiizi

 Clinical officer: “No point in referring him elsewhere, there’s no heart surgery around and the family certainly can’t afford it”

Me: “But this boy has two stuffed heart valves and a massive heart, are you saying he is just going to die in the next few years?”

Working in this beautiful place of healing is emotionally taxing. My expectations were of a slightly underresourced western style hospital. How wrong I was. For two weeks now I have moved around the wards in the morning (Psychiatric, Medical, Surgical, Isolation, kids, and Mothers and babys) and worked in outpatients in the afternoon. From now on I will concentrate on medical ward and outpatients, which is where my interest lies and where I can be useful.

There are 3 types of clinical staff here, Doctors, clinical officers and nurses. Clincal officers are like doctors with less training. They act as junior doctors here, admitting patients, doing clinics and doing ward rounds.

Nurses here have a different role from New Zealand. Every patient must come in with an “attendant”, who feeds, cleans, and even gives out the drugs to the patient!!! On childrens ward every morning there is a bizarre scene where mothers crowd around the nurses to collect their children’s medications… The nurses here put in intravenous lines, put in feeding tubes and do many things that doctors usually do in New Zealand.

Patients often travel hours to get here, if they have any way to get here. One woman gave birth to a child at home who was not breathing, it took her 6 hours to walk here and of course it was too late. This is one of but many heartbreaking stories. In New Zealand if we are too isolated a helicopter will probably come pick us up… Apart from life threatening emergencies, patients join a long queue where they wait for hours before seeing a clinical officer. If they do not come early enough, patients sleep overnight in a hostel before being seen the next day.

Patients have to pay here, which seems strange but it is the only way for things to work. Apparently it is more expensive to make things happen at public hospitals… Although fees are low by our standards (1 NZ dollar to be seen, 5 dollars for a basic drug regime) they are desperately high for the people here. Thankfully there is a fantastic health insurance scheme here which more than half patients here are signed up to. It currently costs about 35 NZ dollars to insure a family of 5 for a year.

 A few times I have been in the strange situation of treating people only to the amount can pay. A guy came in with an incredibly painful 10 cm long, deep dirty burn on his leg. I handed him a treatment sheet which included pain relief, antibiotics and daily dressings which cost 15000 ($15) The man handed it back saying he could only afford 6000. I explained it to the doctor in charge, who cut it down so it cost only 6000!!!!!. Thankfully If patients desperately need treatment they can’t afford, there is a “good samaratin fund” which can help them. It seems like a great system, with the nurse in charge finding out about their living situation and their family, and judging just how extreme their poverty is.

I wish to write much more, and I am sure I will soon so stay posted for astonishing stories of God’s hospital, Kisiizi

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Hi Everyone :) 

We were dying to upload some pictures for you guys and still can’t, so as a stopgap measure we posted some on flickr for your viewing pleasure

Just go to the PHOTOS link on the right hand side of our page, or copy this link into your browser   www.flickr.com/photos/33079877@N02

The best way to view them is probably in their sets on the right of the page labelled  ”kisiizi” etc. as we loaded them in a random order.

God Bless, Nick and Tess

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If the streets of Bangkok were a sea of people, Kampala was a raging rapid.

While we left ourselves two hours to get from our hostel in Entebbe to the bus station in Kampala, the matatuk (minibus) took 45minutes longer than expected in the mad, mad traffic.

With 3 large, heavy bags, we had too-little time to …
(a) Find a Bank to exchange US dollars for Ugandan shillings (the Master Card failed!!!)
(b) To find the location of the correct bus station (They don’t even have names…)
(c) Get to the aforementioned bus station

Kampala doesn’t seem to have traffic lanes. The streets are a bizarre jumble of pedestrians, trucks and cars. In order to cross, you have to boldly weave your way amongst the chaos, preferably shielded by a local. We arrived, flustered but just on time. The bus left two hours later. Buses don’t leave here until they are totally full. And we mean full, with aisles packed with sacks of produce and three live chickens smooshed into a shopping bag,

During the extremely bumpy 9 hour ride we were blessed to encounter a very friendly, open and thoughtful young Ugandan woman called Jacky, who took a few days off study in Kampala to surprise her family in her remote home village. She was hospitable to the extreme and quite concerned about our ability to reach the hospital safely!

Jacky ended up escorting us all the way to the Hosptial, and sharing a hotel room with us in Kabale on the way. On the bus trip Jacky shared some of her amazing life story with me, and the experiences which have shaped her values and character. I have hardly ever heard someone talk so passionately and openly about God. She also taught me to count to nineteen thousand in Ruchiga (the dialect spoken in Kissizi)! And for Nick: ‘where do you feel the pain?’, phonetically pronounced: oily ku-sha sha.

While I was chatting to Jacky, Nick interacted with a young Ugandan man:

Nick: “I’m here with my girlfriend”
Man: “You have girlfriend?”
Nick: “Yeah, actually she’s sitting over there”
Man “Ah I have no girlfriend…..(looks at Tessa.) You give me girlfriend for 1 cow?”
Nick: “Only 1?”

I think they haggled to four cows before they couldn’t hold back the laughter. A dowry of cows is apparently expected of a man who asks the parents of a girl for her hand in marriage. Proposal-man and Jacky found it hard to believe that New Zealand men don’t ask the parentals permission to marry, or to hand over any lifestock!

I found Jacky so inspiring, not only because she was so warm and welcoming, but also because she such a strong, open-minded and independent woman.

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“Whatever happens, conduct yourself in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ” (Phillipians 1:27)

Salesman:      “Bargain, Just for you sir 500 Baht”                                          

Nick               “nono 80 Baht only”                                          

Salesman:      “(Laughing) Cannot even make for 80, 350 Baht”  

Nick:             “Another store in the market offered same shorts for 150. Only reason we didn’t buy them is                         because we can’t find the stall again” (true)                                                                

Salesman:     “(Looks berwilded) “Absolute minimum this store 250 sorry” Pause…                                

Tessa:           “200 Baht?”                                                                                                                  

Salesman:     “OK” – Gives big smile and money is friendily exchanged and salesman says thank you with a                         warm smile. We walk away

Were we acting in a way worthy of the gospel of Christ? 

I haven’t bartered before in my life. The experience is extremely foreign, and I really disliked the first couple of times. I felt bad when the seller looks disappointed at my price, I couldn’t stand walking away when I didn’t think the price was good enough… After a while though I began to enjoy the interaction, new experience and even the competition of getting the best price.

Is our retail system more worthy? It seems more straightforward and honest to have the price up there. It also takes a lot of tension out of the shopping experience, but perhaps some of the fun too…

Also, the politeness and friendliness of the salesperson here in Bangkok tops what you normally see in New Zealand. After the vicious bartering process is complete, there is a satisfying sense of connection, a comradery between fellow men who have been through a challenging process.

Perhaps like the Paul said I should look at my conduct, not just the system. Hopefully, we maintained our honesty and integrity while not thowing large amounts of money at mere consumables. Also God sees my heart. He knows whats going on in there. He knows whether I approach a stall with a spirit of malice and deceit, or humility and grace. 

I don’t know whether walking away from a stall to antagonize a lower price is right, but I do know that God is king here, and can use me and salespeople in any trading system, bartering or not, if our heart is in the right place.

I am sure I will be continually challenged with such cultural differences and can think and pray about them.

“And this is my prayer, that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ”    (”Phillipians 1:9)

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Today we did the tourist thing.

One thing that amazed us about temples was how run down they are. They are far older, have a richer history and are far more impressive than anything we have in New Zealand and yet seem incredibly poorly maintained.

Our pictures will help you visualize this and some of our other “touristy” exploits.

There was even a basketball and a soccer courts inside the main temple grounds. The only public sports ground in the central city? It was bizarre with history at our fingertips. In Nick’s flat, a basketball goes astray and breaks a window. Here a basketball goes astray and breaks the nose off a 500 year old dragon….

The street stores also deserve a mention, where Nike costs 5 dollars

and 500 baht means 50 with good bargaining. The first time we approached a Tuk-Tuk to negotiate a price home, I froze and accepted his first offer. Bargaining is very foreign to us!

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“Never trust a Thai” were the words of warning of a girl on the plane. So far, wrong.

Bangkok is surreal to travel newbies like us. We have three days to explore this huge city before we fly to Uganda. Our first lonely planet guided cautiousness was to ask the taxi driver to turn on his meter for fear of getting ripped off. Ten minutes later we got to know a lovely man who had a daughter in Auckland and guided us through half lane streets through closed roads to our hostel.

These roads became practically unnavagatible the next day due to a sea of people dressed in their best black and white clothes of mourning (and we mean SEA…see the photos). People flood in their hundreds of thousands to the centre of Bangkok for the public cremation of the King’s Sister.

We decided to join the throngs.

Somehow in the heat and hassle I managed to get a nose bleed. While Nick heroically failed to acquire some tissues, I sat on the pavement looking pathetic with blood and tears running down my face while the sea of people flowed by. Two Thai lady and a deaf man (who gestured dramatically) rushed to my aid. They brought me:

1. a bottle of water
2. a roll of toilet paper
3. a cleansing towlette
4. ??CreaM?? (green, SMELLY, sticky, picture of a buissnessman on the pottle)

Later that day a man unexpectedly gave us the exact money for the omelets we were trying to buy in front of a stall. We were fumbling around, with only big notes, possibly more than he earns in a week… He wouldn’t take no for an answer. While we joined the masses to get deafened and physically flattened by the ceremonial cannons Thai people continually offered us bottled water and plastic seat-sheets.

Never trust a Thai? I hope we are this welcoming and hospitable in Christchurch.

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We are overwhelmed by everyone’s support and love at the moment. The three services were incredible today and it was fitting to end with our beloved seven pm community.

An incredible amount of money has been raised (will get back to you with details) and we are pleased to announce we are traveling to Uganda with 20 packets of 100 (thats 2000 ) gloves weighing 15 Kgs!!! We will pay for these easily with the money raised and extra will go straight to the hospital. Most of the extra money you raised goes towards an extra beds, pill, or operation to those who can’t afford it and sorely need it. Some money was graciously earmarked specifically to help us in our travels.

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