Re-entry for real

The first month of “re-entry” was a cakewalk for me. Maybe it was because of all the yummy foods I got to eat or maybe it was because my ankle situation distracted me. At first, I couldn’t walk and was limited to going places I could afford to take cabs to. This sheltered me from having to think seriously about getting a job or living  a life outside of catching up on my shows. Now, I am pretty much free and clear and am starting to face reality.

Re-entry seemed fairly mild until mid-term elections. The hardest part was too many choices, trains, and the feeling that it was strange/unfair that everyone’s life had gone on without me. But mid-term elections changed all that. Hearing the radio or news on TV started driving me crazy. I think the problem is that the political process just seems so negative. There is so much fighting it reminds me of a book I had in childhood with the refrain “No fighting, no biting!” Every time I hear “We want Obama to be a one term president” (which is often) it hurts my soul. Yes, every party not in power wants to be in power as quickly as possible, but the idea just seems so negative. Why not come up with better ideas instead of simply trying to drag down someone else? The day after mid-term elections, it got worse. Pictures of Obama looking depressed were on the cover of every newspaper, along with news of the defeat of democrats everywhere and talk of repealing Health Care.  I actually started to get nostalgic for Kagame’s “democracy.” There is no freedom of speech or press but there is much less noise, And people generally seem happy in Rwanda where complaints and criticisms rein in the Good Ol’ US of A.

Today, I saw the Fair Game movie about the Joe Wilson/Valerie Plame affair. This Hollywood soap box practically made me lose faith in humanity. Americans, with all our education, freedom of speech, and freedom of press are still barbarians. Politicians lie and cheat and we support them. We bombed Afghanistan and Iraq and most American’s never even cared.  How can humanity be so awful? The movie got me thinking that perhaps politics are always corrupt. Democracy, dictatorship, is there even a difference?

Several family members and friends tried to talk me out of losing all faith. My brother said that in the past, people were defenseless against the whims of Kings and had no recourse. He also pointed out that during the Armenian genocide no one said anything and that they are currently bringing charges in Sudan for genocide. His view is that things are getting better not worse.

After talking with my family and friends, I decided not to give up all hope. But I did realize something important. Maybe re-entry is “harder” than initial cultural adjustment because all the difficult, imperfect things are permanent. In Rwanda, the lack of running water and diet coke was always going to be temporary. At the lowest points, we could count down the days until we went home. Once home, there is no countdown. Politics are not going to change anytime soon. As long as I live in America, the freedom of speech and press will mean that the political process is going to be loud, annoying, and contradictory.  As long as I live in New York City, people will push me on the subway and fail to stand clear of the closing doors. Unlike lack of running water, these hardships and annoyances have no expiration date.

Fortunately, the amazing array of delicious food isn’t going away either.

Too many choices

NYC has so many choices. And, I never thought that would be one of the hardest adjustments upon reentry. After all, choice is what I missed so much while abroad. Food choices, exercise choices, choices in Duane Reade.

Yesterday, I set out to find a gym that will do month-to-month and to get a cell phone. While I didn’t actually accomplish either, I did get info on all my choices.  I also spent $87 in the drugstore on magazines, conditioner, a new electronic toothbrush and a few other things I have already forgotten. Hoping today will be better for actually getting things done.

Long overdue: Kindness of strangers

Getting home went better than I could have expected. I was pretty nervous about getting home with two casts, mostly because I felt so dependant on other people. But despite my worry, everyone was really helpful.

In Kigali, I was picked up in a wheelchair in the cafe area because there is no handicapped access inside. The nice man wheeled me around the parking lot and through the door used for food trucks etc. He wheeled me to the stairs of the plane (no jetways here) and gave me a serious headstart up the stairs. In Addis, I got myself down the stairs of the plane and was met by a man with a wheelchair for me. A very nice missionary based in Niger carried my bag and walked with us to the gate, making sure I was all set before going off to his own flight. The only minor hiccup came as I deplaned in Washington DC. Right before we landed, I double checked with the stewardess to make sure my transport was all set. She confirmed, and then as we landed, a woman came onboard to get me. But, as I was waiting for a kind soul to get my bag from the overhead compartment, an old lady stole my wheelchair! I managed to get another one and soon was in the arms of my loving mom!

I got back last Friday and by Tuesday I was cast free. The doctor I saw was chocked beyond belief that I had been casted for 2 sprains.  “I mean, not for twenty years has this been the treatment” When I pointed out that they don’t have air casts in Rwanda, he seemed a little sheepish and gave some lip service to the technology available in the states. All this while writing on a tablet computer that send all prescriptions and other info  straight to the front desk instantaneously. Even though the casts came right off, the pain stuck around so I spent most of last week laying in bed resting and abusing Advil and the kindness of my mom. I also managed a record number of visits from my kind Brother and Sister-in-law and my superhero nephews.

Wreaking havoc behind Nonna’s favorite piece of art

Behold mighty Thor and his hammer!

Trip home...

I have stories to tell about getting home but I have doctors to see, TV to watch and haven't managed to get the stories down yet... coming though. Stay tuned.

ES Students

Here is an album of my students and some teachers at my school. Also some random pics from friends and yoga only hours before I lost the use of my legs :)

ES Students

Here is an album of my students and some teachers at my school. Also some random pics from friends and yoga only hours before I lost the use of my legs :)

Thank you friends

I will keep this short so you don’t vomit from the saccharine but I just wanted to say thanks to each and every member of WorldTeach Rwanda 2010. In my wildest dreams (and my dreams are pretty wild) I never could have imagined such a diverse, intelligent, generous, inspiring, and caring bunch of freaks. Oh, and most of you are pretty funny too. I feel beyond blessed and lucky to have been thrown to together with y’all for the past 9 months. What I really want to say is….

XOXO

J

Thank you friends

I will keep this short so you don’t vomit from the saccharine but I just wanted to say thanks to each and every member of WorldTeach Rwanda 2010. In my wildest dreams (and my dreams are pretty wild) I never could have imagined such a diverse, intelligent, generous, inspiring, and caring bunch of freaks. Oh, and most of you are pretty funny too. I feel beyond blessed and lucky to have been thrown to together with y’all for the past 9 months. What I really want to say is….

XOXO

J

Ko Skola

My friends Kelly Jo and Camble are getting married and these crazy fools don’t want anything from Crate and Barrel! I always knew they were generous souls, especially after ALL of their help when I crippled myself, but this is beyond the pale.  They want to help kids go to school instead of acquiring money and goods for themselves. I know its un-American but please check out their site. Even if you are not in a position to give, maybe you can pass it along to your friends and family to help get the word out.

From The Bride:

Hi everyone! We hope you're all doing wonderfully! :) As some of you know, Camble and I are getting married in November 2010. (next month! :). In lieu of wedding gifts, we would like to raise money to sponsor Namibian children to go to school. The money raised will go towards school fees, books, uniforms, supplies, etc. We so appreciate any way you can help out! :) You can visit our donation webpage atwww.giveforward.com/ko-skola Camble is Namibian and Kelly Jo lived in Namibia in 2009. We are returning there this November (2010) and will be married! We are very excited to sponsor the children in school and already have a few schools in mind that we would like to help. We will personally visit the schools and ensure that the money goes directly to the children :)

We will also be tracking the progress on our blog: http://koskola.blogspot.com/ "Ko Skola" is Oshivambo for "To School"...to learn more about Namibia and its schools, you can visit the following websites: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Namibiahttps://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/wa.html http://www.nied.edu.na/Bep/en-background.htm Thanks again for your time, love and support! :) We can't imagine a better way to celebrate our commitment to eachother than through helping a community so close to our hearts! Love, Camble and Kelly Jo

Creative casting

 

 

Murakoze Inshuti

My friends were totes supportive and turned out for a send off dinner. Susan and KJ gave toasts, everyone had a good time, and I cried. The full album is on Facebook but here are some highlights.

Inshuti!

Saint KJamble

Zach tests the marker before signing

 

Me and my legendary southern mate. Good times and good crepes. And Hewsan

Boys just wanna have fun

Peel me a grape bwana

This goes out to my loving Mother Debbie the Doo. Watch out..your Angel  is coming home.

Sink pasta party

Susan lives in St. Paul’s hostel and has no kitchen or hot plate. she has no perfected the art of “Sink Pasta” which started as angel hair pasta cooked in hot water from shower. Nouvelle Vache  cheese was the next step. Now, after the addition of an electric kettle, butter, salt, pepper, and two types of cheese, it is a work of culinary artistry.

Susan threw a beautiful luncheon, she bought drinks, Pringles, chocolate, grapes, bowls, and silverware  for all attendees!

Flowers from a concussed Mitesh!

Susan hard at work 

  Joco inspects a Pringle

Inshuti! (Although Kim says  it’s spelled Incuti)

So long, farewell

Based on the recommendations of my field director, family, and self, I am returning to the US early. Once it became clear that I am unable to teach (and next week is the last week of teaching anyway) I had to decide if laying in a hostel bed for 3 weeks was worth it. Plus, the very idea of trying to navigate the dirt and rock roads of Nyanza was giving me panic attacks. In the words of Joco “Well, that’s not even an option.” KJ was also clear that me being alone in my town made her uncomfortable and the home office had suggested I return to the US. The general consensus that flying with casts and wheelchairs etc would in fact be easier (sympathy!!) than traveling by myself on freshly freed feet.

So exactly 22 days early, I will return to the Good Ol’ USA.  I leave next Thursday and will arrive in D.C. on Friday. As sad as I am to miss the last few weeks, I am totally comfortable with my decision. Navigating with crutches on uneven dirt roads is difficult with 2 hurt limbs and being a prisoner in a hostel isn’t my idea of a great finish to the year. At least at home I can deliver in good food and have my slave…ooops I mean mom…wait on me.

I will be forever thankful and grateful for the friends I made here. A tight community apparently only takes 9 months to solidify. I am so lucky to have been placed in this group. Also, this experience would have been entirely different without my wonderful Field Director Kelly Jo. (What would KJ do? is a debbie doo and jane phrase).

This year has been difficult sometimes and painful at others (like now) but always absurdly fun. I experienced so many things I never could have imagined in my wildest dreams. I am absolutely glad I did it. To quote John Stanlake “It’s a legend.”

In other news…I will be in New York City recuperating at the Westwind and accepting sympathy and visitors.

XOXO

J

Dr. Butera

Dr. Butera was totes charming and competent. He was dressed in full army fatigues with BUTERA over his right breast and RDF over the left.  He asked permission to take off my casts and then asked before he touched my legs, and said sorry every time I gasped. Before I was sent off to the POP (Plaster of Paris) room, he took down a chart, branded by Celebrex, off the wall and showed us the ligaments of each side of the ankle and what usually happened and what he thought had had happened.  He examined the x-rays (and could not understand why Nyanza had not done both feet) and decided there was no break.

After the old casts were off and he examined me, he explained each step of the way how everything was connected and why the pain was so bad one place but the bottom of the foot was fine. He said “You are a beautiful young girl and we will get you walking again” and “How many years young are you?”  It was the first time in Rwanda that a man had used the word beautiful in reference to me without it feeling creepy at all. Just very nice.

The man who put the new casts on, Fabien, was also excellent. He had to position my legs so the full casts could be properly wrapped. I tried not to cry out but I was wincing. He went on a long soliloquy about Rwanda and the problems and education. Not only was he extremely interesting, at the end, he winked at me and said “Talking helped” making it clear his talking had been one long distraction.

Despite the excellent care and bedside manner, the message was clear. When I twisted my ankles, the ligaments tore (or have little tears) and must be immobilized for three weeks. Otherwise, Dr Butera says they will heal improperly.  He also said the full plaster casts (old ones were plaster at back and gauze wrapped in front) will lessen the pain because the ankles cannot move. Dr. Butera said “Oh no, you are not a prisoner, if you have a car, your friends can drive you around town. You can go to the bathroom. But no pressure on the legs for 3 weeks.” But no teaching, no hobbling around uneven roads. I am currently figuring out my plan for the next few weeks.

Having my legs wrapped in concrete boots is a bit hot but I think it helps with the pain as my ankles are in fact quite immobile. Today was a bit rough as we ventured out to our favorite cofee shop and internet cafe. Only downside was stairs to the bathroom. So I am back in bed and after dinner my friends are going to come and amuse me. I have said it before and will say it again, I am blessed beyond belief to be grouped with this particular bunch. Rockstars each and every one.

Smile when there are clouds in the sky

check back I will be updating as more people sign

 

Friend

Friend

a true friend brings you rip-off Pringles

and makes you sink pasta

when you are immobile

a friend buys you shampoo

and cleans you

while you kneel on 2 buckets to protect your casts

a friend cheers your pathetic efforts

to navigate a 20 foot hallway on crutches

and buys wine along with pain killers

a friend faces a Rwanda pharmacy

when you have given yourself heartburn from

too much diet soda

gossip girl, mad men and west wing

pale in the face of your entertainment value

Thank You seems insufficient

so

You the bomb

 

Because I don’t get enough attention

After careful thought ad consideration, I decided that being yelled at “Muzungu” or “Jan-IE” every single time I leave the house wasn’t enough for me anymore. What could I do to really make a splash? Yes everyone stares at me wherever I go, but do they stare for 5 seconds? Ten? How could I ramp this up?

The short answer: Trip on a rock

                           photo credit-Inga Storen

The long answer: Fall walking of my house and manage to sprain both ankles quite badly. My friend Susan was with me and once we stopped laughing and I tried to get up, we realized that walking was a skill I no longer possessed. one ankle was quickly approaching baseball size while the other hovered around golf ball. Of course the neighborhood was out in full force to watch my gracefulness so Bizmani put me on his back and started to the hospital. We managed to find a kid with a bike who took me while Bizmani and Robert walked with Susan. We arrived at the hospital, which resembles a concrete shell more than any hospital in the US. The doctor asked my name and few basic questions and then grabs my ankles with no warning and twists. Tears literally burst from my eyes, cartoon style.  ‘Yes, hurts hurts” I wept.  Same on the other side, by this time, pain has set in and I am sobbing. “You need to go to radiology” the Doctor says and leaves the room. How was I supposed to get there? fly? Bizmani and Susan became my human crutches and dragged me to radiology.

Again, the man grabbed my ankle no warning to position it, I was holding Susan’s hand and I think she still has all her fingers.  And doesn’t appear to have permanent hearing damage from the screams. In the x-ray room, no one asked me if I was pregnant (Relax! I am not, but all women of child bearing age need to be asked that because its bad for the baby)  no one covered my chest with that heavy protective device and no one asked Susan to leave the room. After the X-Ray, the guy comes out with the x-ray he just developed and gives to Susan “Can you please go outside for 5-8 minutes into the sun and dry this”  She had been in contact with our field director Kelly Jo who had offered to rent a car and come get us but I had said to wait…I mean fixing ankles isn’t brain surgery.  I turned to one of men who are there, not in scrubs or recognizable medical outfits but appeared to be working there, and inquire about crutches. Yes, crutches aren’t ideal but at this point, but alas crawling and scooting on my bottom are the only options for unassisted movement. “Oh no, we don’t have those, you would have to go to Butare or Kigali”

Now its time to call my mommy in pieces. “Mom, sorry I woke you but I didn’t know Aaron’s new cell or Daddy’s and I don’t want to worry you………blah and they don’t have crutches and ……blah, sob, blah sob and its really really hurts.” Debbie Doo is excellent in a crisis and has an uncanny ability to stay calm when I am not.  In the calmest voice ever managed by woman who has been woken up at 2:45 AM by a hysterical 28 year old daughter she managed to make the world seem infinitely better. “Jane, of course you call me. I am your mother, you are supposed to call me. Don’t ever worry about that. You need to RICE if they aren’t broken. And crutches would be hard if you don't have one good foot. We can find you some sticks…”

“Mom, they don’t even have an ace bandage sob sob”

“Okay, you will find some cloth and have someone wrap it really tightly”

After the prescribed time, Susan comes back and hands the x-ray to the “guy” (job unclear) and he says we have to wait for “the” Doctor. Apparently there is only one at this hospital and he is in surgery. “How long” Susan asks. “Oh, I don’t know” is the answer. At this point I scream “OYA” (no) and text Kelly Jo “please come.” We left the hospital without ever being offered ice for the tennis ball sized swellings where my ankles used to be, no ace bandage or wrapping.

Two hours later, we are in a car with Kelly Jo and Fiancée Camble (KJamble is their nickname). They took me to King Fiesel hospital in Kigali where the doctor spoke the King’s English. He looked gently at my ankles before ordering morphine (bless his soul now and forever), 2 new x-rays (yes, Susan left the room and all my organs were properly covered) and plaster of Paris casts.  Post morphine quote “I don’t even have cankles, I have really nice ankles.”

                      ice cream heals

So now I am ensconced in the hostel where my friend Susan lives, only a few doors away. . I do have crutches but until one ankles gets a little better walking is still challenging. But, if there was a fire or say I had to pee and had no one around, I am not forced to crawl. They don’t have air casts here so even though I look like a gigantic loser with double plaster casts, they really do help keep my ankles straight and less painful. Although they look quite dramatic, they keep my ankles safe and secure.  Its quite a chore to move but yesterday I managed the hallway 3 times.

 pathetic sums it up

Susan has been an absolute rock, piling junk food and care on me, leaving only to work.  I also have other nurses, and last night while Susan worked, Joco came in from her little town and made me laugh and smile until I passed out in front of Gossip Girl.  The bigger problem when these casts come off is I may be spoiled rotten. Really really rotten. 

“But I want an oompa loompa NOW”

My family has always been the type that are beyond amazing in a crisis. There just are not people on the planet who could be better when the chips are down. But I am totally struck by how amazing peeps I have know for 9 months have come through! Even for a silly ankle/Jane can’t walk injury, my WorldTeach group has been so awesome and I appreciate every text, FB message and general love sent this direction.  As hard as this year can be, maybe the core “lesson” is about generosity of spirit and love. Let me assure you, Africa has not turned me into a granola freegan earth mother. I miss shopping, facials and being clean. But, I have learned about true community spirit.

Disclaimer: This was written 2 codeine deep

Sporto with Suuuzie and Jan-IE

 

My friend Susan (re-christened Suuuzie) came down in Saturday for a Nyanza style date night. Sat night was epic, a little wine, sporto (a.ka.a yoga) with the kiddies, bit more wine and some pirated TV.  Sunday morning, things went “a little awry.” By “a little awry”I really mean 2 hospitals 3 x-rays and 2 casts….. details and pictures to follow (but don’t worry :)

Denise was so proud that her shirt matched Susan’s hair

Pictures from Alodie’s engagement party

Alodie and Fabien (Fiancée)

Weekend with friends

Friday night was girls night Chez Moi. I cooked and Susan, Meghan and Joco came down. We ate brownie batter courtesy of Meg and played lots of games.

Ladies in Red

Then we met up with John, Evan and Loren in Butare for an epic day of eating. We returned to the Chinese food place in the middle of nowhere and set 2 new records. One for finding a place (1hr 10min) and waiting for food (3hrs for starters, another 45 for mains).

Thank God for cards

 

 

Posing Rwanda style (no smiles)

Inshuti

For my auntie annabelle stephanie

Our baby