i think that i really didn't know what to expect when patrick asked me if i wanted to go to kisenyi slum and clean and bandage wounds and feed people. i had heard about kisenyi, that it was the worse slum in kampala...but i didn't think it could be much worse than the slums of trujillo, peru where we assisted in opening alternative schools and held our first dental mission a few years ago. and truthfully, it wasn't worse.....it was different. it was so crowded and there were so many homeless kids and everyone seemed to stare at me. i'm not usually bothered by that, except that a man approached and asked why more people like me weren't doing more to help people like him. i wanted to say...people like me? do you mean white people, american people, women...what do you mean? but humbly i had to admit it was a cry for help by someone who was angry, and hungry, and sick and probably tired and alone. why don't more people help? well..starting with the UGANDAN government? i tried to explain we were only a few in our group, that our resources were limited...all that...but it sounded like a pathetic excuse and i stopped talking. 
he showed me his rash and i gave him a tube of neosporin and he thanked and hugged me and we had our pic taken together. and i thought.....dear Lord..show me the way to help these people who cannot help themselves and i held back the tears.
we walked down a hill....andrew, peter, robbie, soldier and patrick. patrick knows everyone and they respect and appreciate what he does. we approached a HUGE mound of burning trash and people were working to clean a drainage ditch. the smoke was oppresive and i looked at the laundry hanging and wondered...why bother? then i saw her....gloria....and my heart sank because she was not laughing and smiling and singing praise songs.....she was high and embarassed. she managed to hug me and i told her i loved her and missed her. i had someone, andrew i think, ask her if she was selling her body because she is HIV+...of course she said no....she said she wasn't taking her medicine either. she was the first child i knew....i thought about sitting with her that day at the clinic when she was told she was HIV+ and she seemed so sad.....i think she has stopped caring......at some point i realized i was holding peter's hand... i don't think i was scared, i think i just needed to know i was not alone in this horrible, hopless, filthy, dangerous, miserable place.
we walked to the showers as patrick collected kids. we bought soap and handed it to people as they entered for a cold shower..coming out shivering and putting on the same filthy clothes. so so many kids knew me.....when they said 'hi auntie kathy' my heart broke in 2 because how in the world could so many kids know me here in this wretched place where i have never been.....farid, abdul, ishmael, and so many whose names are somewhere in the back of my mind. some were embrassed and some latched on for a huge hug as i told them to come back to the house of hope....truthfully, most were high..carrying little bottles of fuel that they pour on a rag and sniff. skin and bones, filthy, cold, hungry...but high. what the hell is wrong with our society when we can go on a vacation and spend thousands to lie in the sun, or hundreds on a huge meal, or own a closet full of clothes we don't wear when kids are living and dying like this? isn't this what we have been commanded to do????? how can we call ourselves Christians when we turn our head and say that we give at church? i'm not suggesting that everyone flock to the slums, but i am saying that everyone can DO SOMETHING! patrick has to force some kids to shower because they fear leaving their meager possessions even for a minute...but he, with the help of his friends....manages to provide showers for many kids. it is now time to clean and bandage wounds.
we walked back to an area not far from the mound of burning trash and patrick told everyone to sit and explained we would do the wound care and then he would feed them. we had one small grocery bag of supplies, not nearly adequate for the type of wounds and cuts. a medic was there, maybe he was american, maybe jamaician..don't know why i can't figure that out....he had betadine and peroxide and scissors. everyone was grateful for what we could do....a man asked me to pull his tooth.....NO i said, i can't! how do you tackle foot injuries when people are walking away barefoot...when u have NO WATER to wash anything..just a few packs of baby wipes and peroxide. next time i will be more prepared. next time...hear me? next time! patrick is calling me doctor now..haha...the Preacher prayed for me.. he put his hands on me and prayed and said his prayers worked immediately..right then. i thanked him and hugged him and robbie took our pic and maybe they did work immediately because i don't know what he prayed for.
patrick brough rice and juice and started handing it out to the hungry. it got dangerous because the people started fighting over the food. i was reminded of a trip to peru when we handed out hundreds of shoes and people started pushing and shoving and we had to leave quickly because we were being mobbed. a hungry person is desperate. i can see that....now i can better understand and as i sometimes tell george..."no one has the right to be overweight when people are hungry". this is not me being tolerant or non judgemental when i say this....it is me being intolerant and judgemental...and completely honest about my feelings....i know that i am not perfect. we went to another area to feed people, but the crowd started fighting over the food and patrick said we should leave now. we walked to the van and collapsed because it had been difficult....emotionally and physically. patrick has asked me if i will go back again......"yes" i say....it is the reason i am here. View all 72 photos here.
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