from the airport to the hostel

(Picking up where we last left off...we had just left the Nairobi airport)

The van slowed to a crawl--inching past lamp stores, OiLibya gas stations, and billboards for Coca-Cola.
"There must have been an accident," said Adele (our South African liason).
"No, I think it is just construction traffic in Friday Night Niarobi," our driver Vincent replied.

After a few more inching moments, we could see a construction truck with a heavy trailer hitched behind it parked off to the left-side of the road, facing the wrong direction. (In Kenya, people drive on the opposite site of the road, like they do in London. Unlike London, however, the roads in Kenya are not marked with solid lines, dotted lines, white lines, yellow lines or any other type of line. Game on.) As we pulled around the trailer, we could see a bus--exactly like the one we were in--completely demolished. Half of the van was gone.

A young man in civilian clothing stood on the opposite side of the road--a semi-automatic rifle hung nonchalantly at his side. On the left side of the road, bodies that had been thrown/carried from the wreck were laying bleeding and badly bent in the grass. One man was practically bent in half--the wrong way--back to calves. A woman was lying on the gravel, her legs covered with a blanket. Another young man, maybe fourteen, had a bad, bloody gash on his head. He was still blinking, but that was all the moving he was doing.

As the van passed this horrific sight, the health care professionals inside were startled and were trying to figure out where in the 28 boxes and three vans they had packed their gloves and other medical supplies that these people would need. The supplies were not in the passenger van.

"Should we pull over and help anyway?" they asked aloud.
"No." Adele said forcefully. "Over 40% of the population here has HIV/AIDS. We cannot safely stop and help here." And so we drove away in silence.
(Another note about Nairobi. They don't have enough hospitals and they are understaffed. It is common for patients to share beds--up to three people in a bed at a time alternating--head--toe--head. Even women going into labor are required to share their bed up until the last final few pushes.

Despite the similarities at the airport, the car accident aftermath we witnessed only moments later reminded this group of the magnitude of the problems facing Nairobi. It was a very poignant experience to illustrate that there are many problems that Kenya faces to which these helping hands from Iowa are still helpless to relieve.

That night, the van wound through Nairobi, past the new electric street lamps and lit hotel lobbies, past the flicker of the firelight dancing on the tin-roofed slums, introducing the EyeCare Kenya team to shadows of Nairobi washed in a moonlight glow.