Hell's Gate....Kenya and South Sudan

Hiking at Hell's Gate

They call this beautiful hiker's paradise Hell's Gate which in my mind is like confusing Mother Teresa  with Kim Kardashian. Though I have never visited Hell, I'm taking the assumption that this pretty place is as unlike hell as Mother Teresa and KK are to one another .  Kim is much prettier and just gives gives gives.... :)

The hike is along a river bed that has worked it way deep into the sandstone showing off beautiful striations of time on its steep majestic walls. Unique and interesting chambers are created by the back eddies and disrupted flow of the water that comes in a flash a few times a year. Quite a number of people have died here caught in the canyon when the water comes rushing down. Ropes are stationed along the banks as a way out...but likely unhelpful if the water comes. It's more psychologically reassuring than providing any real measure of safety.

But I'm coming to somewhat appreciate the "use at your own risk" realities of this developing country. It's harsh - there is no question - but a tonic to the sometimes overly patronizing safely philosophies of developed countries. One of my least favorites examples of this was found during my much-loved walk around Cedar Hill golf course in Victoria, Canada. One fine day a proliferation of "Watch for flying Golf Balls" signs suddenly appeared. Every 50 meters an important reminder of something that had never crossed my mind previously. Thank you so much for that....


In Kenya;

• If a manhole cover is missing you'd better drive around it. 
• There's no need for a prescription at the pharmacy. Don't buy it if you don't know what it is and how to use it.
• If you can't figure out that a cannon carved by rushing water is a bad place to be in a rain storm.......
• And if lions are suddenly running in the streets, keep you distance.....

That's the fun topic this week in Nairobi. 6 lions are hanging around the city and with little infrastructure to deal with such a thing, the game is one of waiting for the lions to turn themselves in and wait for transport back the the Park. The park by the way borders the city so this is not the first time by any means. Love lions!!!!

Another Hell's gate is just north of here though more commonly referred to as South Sudan. I've spoken of the world's newest country a few times before and this week again with a heavy heart after the tragic death of two more MSF colleagues.

I wish I could add their pictures and names and bring a more personal relationship to these two fine brave souls at this moment. Giving your life while committed to alleviating the suffering of others is a noble thing indeed. I am very much indebted to these two for their sacrifice.

In time their pictures and names will come...and again we'll post their pictures on the office peg board and take a moment to think about them...their families...the chaos of that night and the horrible and untimely manner in which they met their deaths. The pictures are added to the many that hang in memorial on MSF office walls around the world. My goodness what a terrible shame.

And more of a shame given the setting. Inside a POC! That acronym literally stands for Protection of Civilians. So what the fuck is going on? What was the United Nations doing at that time? The soldiers have but one primary duty at the Malakal POC. Keep these innocent civilians safe from the South Sudanese Liberation movement  (SPLM) Soldiers (Dinka). Reports are that as many as 100 soldiers gained entry and as women and children ran to the MSF hospital for shelter the men  (Nuer....this is an ethnic war) fought the soldiers for their lives. Imagine if you can 600 people crammed into our little hospital with wounded coming through the door and the very persons you have entrusted your safety ....absent.

Where was the the UN and what the fuck were they thinking. Shame...

I also feel compelled  to help bring awareness to the bombing of hospitals again. It's 5 now. This week saw another MSF supported facility targeted with blatant disregard for the rules of war and the rights of the innocent. In the same manner that the POC is insufficiently guarded the world and it's peace-keeping institutions continue to turn their backs on the needs of those who desperately need our help. At the very least we need to reach out and protect those who through no fault of their own find themselves as pawns in a game that is at the very least detestable.

In the words of the MSF leader..."Your enemy's doctor is not your enemy". How is it, I often wonder, that we can't muster the resources necessary to protect this basic and most fundamental aspect of decency toward one another?

Thanks for reading - Layno

Hiding with Dedan and a visit to Mathare

Mount Suswa and the Mathare slums

Mount Suswa is indeed a beautiful place. A volcanic crater within a crater with a lofty peak where you can gaze down in wonder and imagine the creation of this beautiful landscape. Suswa is the sister crater to Longonot, a crater I'd hiked earlier and hope to hike again given the tranquility, fresh air and green bits everywhere. This was an overnight trip with us camping on the crater ridge and bar-b-queing a nice fresh goat...mmmmm nuuuuuuumy!

As the Maasai guides gave the crew of about 20 instructions for the hike, I only half-listened knowing the drill after a number of hikes. The park it home to all the animals of the region so you have to be on the look out for cats...big ones. And when it was time to start, I  gave little thought to the gear I would need for the 5 hour hike on this hot sunny day........

All went well until we reached the peak 3 hours later, I huddled under an umbrella with a hike-mate shivering from the cold and wet. No coat, not fleece, no long pants...and in fact a cotton top and shorts. The lesson of being prepared had been taught to me by my father long ago. Many many times my father and I would drive into the woods where inevitably we would become stranded with a mechanical breakdown or stuck somewhere. On may of these outings and subsequent delays my father would repeat the phrase "Fuck!"... we don't have a                (fill in the blank with jacket, car jack, can opener, gas, spare tire,  matches, screwdriver,  map, hairdryer, prayer.......) This is how I learned the importance of being prepared...Thank you father for these important life lessons :)

The sky lit with lightening and the thunder sounded and then the hail..in chunks. There was nowhere to go to get out of the hail and ensuing rainstorm that got heavier with each passing minute. The 2 hour hike out would be a cold wet and uncomfortable time...but then  - Ha!!!! - a flash flood and wind to make things more interesting. Water rushed down the mountain finding our trail the most attractive way back down. Water began to surge over my ankles and then up to my knees at points. The trail became unusable at some point and we scrambled along after our Maasai guide. The group had become separated and I remember thinking it unlikely we would get back safely as darkness started to fall.

In the end the only casualties were electronic devices...and fortunately not mine. Cameras and phone are not built for a rain storm... nothing money and copious amounts of alcohol can't solve.

Making our way to Mount Suswa in a 10 ton overland vehicle. Surprisingly capable off-road.

After eating the goat, veggie bits, and enjoying a couple bottles of vodka beside the bone-warming fire, we hit the sack. The morning brought the most delicious sunrise coming up over the crater...the inner "moat" filled with fog and mystery all at once. Many of us stood coffee in hand til the sun was well into the sky that morning.

Later a group ventured overland to the caves at the base of Mount Suswa. We trekked over the land shared by the pastoralist Maasai, baboons, zebra and all other manner of assorted African wildlife.
The caves are interesting. Baboon parliament as it's called, is straight out of an Indiana Jones movie. A hundred meters into the 2 kilometer tunnel you find a pile of rocks 3 meters high in a big cavern that reminded me of a high school gym though the baboon poo was less smelly than the sweat I remember from those days.

Directly above the rock pile is an opening where the sun lights the pile like a stage. All around are rocks forming a theatre of sorts where the Baboon gather ever night...the leader taking the top of the rock pile and the others arranging themselves to listen and share. Later the baboons find shelves high in the cave to protect them from the prowling leopards that visit on a regular basis hoping for a lazy and delicious baboon.. Deeper in the tunnel were the bats.......

It was the edge of my tolerance for physical discomfort and general creepiness. Hot...overwhelmingly reeking of ammonia, walking over 3 feet of dried guano which is puffy like dry snow but doesn't pack down. It's dusty, catching in your throat. And filled with flies....thousands and thousands all over you....in your eyes and ears and mouth.... panic rises and subsides with each step. At times you have to crawl a bit using your hands covered in the Guano and while dry. it's impossible not to fixate on.... and then of course the actual bats. Looking up with your headlights they are a mass moving and peeping loudly together hanging within reach ...... it seems like there are millions and maybe there are.... all moving and shifting uncomfortable with the intrusion. It's an overwhelming physical experience. Can't wait to do it again :)

The caves were also reportedly home to the Mau Mau as they fought for their independence from 1952 through to 1960 when the message was finally made clear that Africans had had enough of the colonial power. Central to that struggle was the freedom fighter, or depending on your perspective, rebel leader Dedan Kimathi. A true hero of the times immortalized in a beautiful statue in the center of Nairobi. His leadership and outrage propelled many to fight for an independence that should  have been been an inalienable birth right and beyond the destructive and oppressive actions of the Europeans at the time.

His capture and death in 1957 signaled the end of the Mau Mau uprising.....

Walking the caves I thought of what it must have been like for him.....what would he think of how far this beautiful country has come in such a short time. His death was not in vain, it is an inspiration for all who want the best for this country and her people.

A visit to Mathare

 

There is nothing pleasant about Mathare other than the unassailable smiles of those who survive in this slum. It's the second largest in Nairobi  and together with Eastleigh and the dump-site, provide a place to call home for around 2 million people. MSF started 10 years ago with HIV  and TB programs which have since been successfully taken up by the Kenya Ministry of health. Our team now provides programs for drug and multi-drug resistant TB. The programs are hard on staff given the meticulous protocol  required to keep everyone safe from this disease. Of course it's much much worse with those stricken with the resistant strains of the disease. The drug regime, in a word, brutal.

With the successful handover of the the HIV and TB programs MSF took up the cause to address sexual violence in the slum. Pickup points within the slum were arranged (no roads of course) allowing us to get a Land Cruiser ambulance close enough to reach the person requiring aid. MSF is able to operate within the slum in safety given the reputation for care and commitment  built over many years and bringing relief to those who suffer greatly. The MSF logo is protection and ensures safe passage and aid from the community if required. In the clinic we have a trauma center, psychologists and community support workers 24/7 to address the needs of the population.


The program has been in place for just over 2 years now and while not busy in the early days becomes increasingly and unfortunately more busy as the population comes to trust and reach out for our help. The stories shared are in hushed voices with clenched fists and a helplessness that accompanies horrific circumstances with no obvious and immediate solutions. Always at the heart of it innocence lost and bonds of trust with family, community, society and any others damaged forever beyond repair. I am proud to be associated with those who do this work each day. 

Thank you for reading....Layno

Mathare