Beyond Words...

Today we made our second foray into the heart of Kibera, the world's second-largest slum. Our destination was Tabitha's Clinic, a combined project of Carolina for Kibera and the CDC (Centers for Disease Control). From the offices of CFK, a young man led us downhill to the clinic...and what a trip it was. Narrow alleyways bordered by ramshackle buildings of mud and wood, with metal roofs...the ground covered with a combination of garbage, animal and human excrement, discarded clothing and plastic bags, mud, and flowing sewage...dogs and chickens scrounging for feed in the garbage piles, while runny-nosed children stood in doorways and stared with often-empty eyes as we passed by. And the odors were truly beyond description. On and on we went, for what seemed like a very long distance (though it was probably less than a mile) and a very long time, as we had to watch our step so carefully. Never in my life have I wished for hip boots, but today they would have been most welcome!

Tabitha's Clinic was remarkable, a real oasis of calm and cleanliness in that ocean of chaos and filth. The staff we met were amazingly dedicated people who work incredibly hard to bring health care and information as well as improved nutrition to this impoverished area. The patient-families we saw- mostly mothers and babies or young children- were amazingly clean, one of those seemingly-oxymoronic facts which has been rearing its head over and over as we've visited the slums. How do people living in such squalid conditions, without electricity or running water or waste disposal of any sort manage to look so clean when they go somewhere like the clinic? It seems a matter of pride for them...and I cannot cease from marveling at it.

All too soon it was time to return to CFK. This time the trip was all uphill, with more slippery areas to negotiate and rocks covered with a slimy coating to avoid, if possible. I slipped once on a half-buried plastic bag and felt my legs being splashed with mud- at least I hoped that was what it was. Putting my hand out against a mud-covered wall steadied me and I beathed a huge sigh of relief, as landing in that morass of garbage and sewage would have been an experience I would gladly do without! When at last the headquarters of CFK were in sight, I found myself hurrying to the car to get out the wipes I carry everywhere so I could clean the mud from my legs and pant legs, as well as wipe my hands. So deeply shocking was the whole experience that I was unable or unwilling to take any photos at all and it was with much relief that we left Kibera today. The only thing I could think about is how much I would love to hug my grandchildren right now.