Oh! Did I Forget to Tell You? You're Fired!

(Can someone please pass the word- "She's fired!")

Yea. Napolean, the little man that couldn't, has fired me from the NGO. How awesome is that? I mean, really, how bloody awesome is that? It isn't. Damn.

The big long drama....

I go to work on 29 Jan in Eshinutsa. No biggie. On 30 Jan, I go to the office, as usual. My counterpart, M, tells me that there was a staff meeting last night, and I can't figure out what about, no one will tell me. Yea, well, no one would tell me either. Eventually, he finds out that there was a meeting to discuss my work and how I was going to be removed by PC. Napolean had written a letter to PC detailing my failings and asking for my removal. This was followed with a phone call requesting details on when I would be gone. Then the meeting with everyone but M and I. On Friday I get a call from my APCD saying, "Did you hear? You've been fired."

NO ONE except M will give me any details to this. But they all know, and they all talk about it, behind my back- no, sorry, In front of my face, in Luhya, so I don't really understand what's being said.

2 weeks pass, with no sign of Napolean, no word from him or confirmation of the "rumour". Finally, at the end of the 3rd week, he calls me in to say, "I hear you've been needing to speak to me." I say, no, YOU need to speak to ME. WTF? He spends the next 2hours lying to me about why I am being fired, lying to me about the meeting, and refusing to allow me to see the letter he wrote to the APCD, despite an earlier offer to let me read it.

Big pile of bullshit.

The reasons? There's 3: 1. I feel misplaced (true) and have no work to do in the community (not true), 2. I am completely unsupervisable (because he's a moron, and too stupid to ever call me in and ASK ME), and 3. I insist on having a day to go and buy food every week (true- because I don't have a wife who will do it for me, and it's the only way to get something other than a tiny tomato or an onion).

No, this does not mean I am leaving PC. Kibet was smarter than to suggest it to me, and I'm not ready to do it anyhow. Too bad, Kenya. I'm sticking around! It does mean I have to have a site change. My APCD is looking in to Bomet, a town south of Kisii, in the Rift Valley, with the Kalinjins. I'd be dead center between Kisumu and Nairobi, close to the Masai Mara, and in a supposedly beautiful area with a good project. Still no stima, still no maji, still no sign of civilization. I'm not excited about this, but I'm trying to look on it as a possibly positive twist of fate.

Meanwhile, the Chieves have declared I am not allowed to leave, and are searching for a new org. in the Kisa area. I really like that - makes me feel LUVD. The community is upset, and Napolean is losing a lot of respect.

Who knows how much longer this will take. I am in Kisumu this weekend to party with the PCVs and bid farewell to S, my MI girl, who got AdSepd. Bullshit, of course. (There's now only 30 of us from the original 39 who made it into Kenya.) But so much fun to be here!! I will let you know as soon as its all official. In the meantime, mail can be sent to the Nairobi address, from PST - the PO Box 30518.

Much love to you all.

Where's my damn letters?!?

Gosh, Baby! I Hardly Felt a Thing!

Today was my very first time! I say that with an exclamation, and I'm not really sure I should. I mean... your first time is always exciting, if only because it's new, something to put on the list of "Done That"s. But then... Maybe this isn't something to be all that excited about?

Mum, Dad, calm down. It's nothing nasty!! Well. Not the nasty thing you're thinking about (ewww! I'm your Daughter!!)

Today I had my very first operation. Real, live surgery, and I got to be awake for the whole dang thing!

So, about a month ago now, I gave myself a "pedicure" with a toothpick. My 2nd toe on the right got a little weird a few days later, prolly from my digging around. No biggie. It looked like a callus, on the tip (past the nail), and I figured it's full of pus. So, what do I do? I play. I dig. I poke. Gotta get it out, right? But it wasn't coming out like it should, just little bits of water, not the real stuff I could see in there. So I got a lancet, conveniently included in my med kit, and continued to dig deeper. But still, nothing coming. Damn.

All this time, it has both itched and hurt at the same time, like a mosquito bite you've already scratched too much. I scratch, say ouch, and scratch some more. And keep playing with the new bloodblister/scab that has formed. Play, pick, play, pick.

Last night it starts THROBBING. Damn, did that mo-fo hurt. I took a couple codeine and nothing. At midnight I finally call medical who says, 'hey dumbass, you take Ibuprofen for inflammations' and that I need to haul butt to a doctor in the morning. At the PC office, L says, "Oh, prolly just a staph infection. They're really going around right now. Don't worry!"

The good Dr. S had a different idea. "That's jiggers", she says with hardly a glance. It's WHAT?!? I want to stand up and vomit, just like the kid in the waiting room did minutes before. I have ^shudder^ critters living in my foot?? She says she can cut it out, no prob, it will just take a second. I, for those of you who don't know me, immediately turn into a baby and beg for a local anesthetic. PLEASE! Please don't just cut me! Turns out, for needle jabs between the toes isn't really a nice feeling. (Mum, Dad: This was further affirmation that I could NEVER be a heroin addict. Please breathe a sigh of relief) I made a promise not to kick her, like the kid before me (who was attempting to have a roach removed from her ear canal) and strangled the IV pole instead.

10 minutes later, she had me laying, sort of, on the table for the katikati of the jiggers. The anesthetic was amazing! I hardly felt even the pressure of her touching me, and certainly not the pain of a knife slicing me! But did I whimper and whine? You betcha! She packed it and sent me on my way, with a bloody crater in my toe. G-Ross. It still hurts like a toe that's been sliced, but I have pills for that. I'm not afraid!

Her advice for avoiding jiggers in the future? "Go back to America."