Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
quiries on my behalf. When he leaves, I have to remind him to take my contact information
so he can follow up.
After the medical officer leaves, Jotham grins and says, “I do not think anybody with HIV
will speak to you. These people do not like to talk about their condition. I am glad we had
this conversation with the district medical officer. He is a better person for you to speak to
than the hospital administrator because he is the official in charge.”
“Maybe so,” I say, “but I did tell Madame Kashe at the Wasso Hospital we were coming
today, and I promised to visit her. So I think we need to go there at least to say hello to be
polite.”
Jotham counters, “We will not have time to go tonight, I think, since we will have to find
a hotel and something to eat.” We check into a small guesthouse, and Jotham negotiates the
pricefrom$15to$10aperson.Amanpromiseswe'llhavehotwater,whichJothamseemsto
really care about, and the man begins heating a barrel of water with charcoal. After an hour,
the water is only tepid, and Jotham insists that we cannot go to find Madame Kashe until it's
hot enough to bathe.
My mobile phone rings: it's Madame Kashe calling. “We are waiting for you here,” she
says.“Whenareyoucoming?”Iexplainwe'vecheckedintoaguesthouseandarewaitingfor
hot water to clean off the grime of nearly two days of travel.
SheasksmewhyIwenttoaguesthouse.“Wehavehotwaterhere.Andfood,andbeds.”It
dawns on me that when Madame Kashe told me we would be welcome, she was inviting me
to stay at the hospital, apparently in guest quarters.
I apologize for the misunderstanding and hand the phone to Jotham. He speaks in Swahili
for a few minutes and then hands the phone back. I say, “I think we made a mistake,
and I really think we should go see Madame Kashe now.” Jotham surprises me by agree-
ing—maybe it's the promise of hot water—and we wrap up in our warmest jackets and head
into the suddenly cold desert night.
Madame Kashe greets us outside what appears to be a chapel and welcomes us inside, where
we find a table set with steaming food.
A tall, baby-faced young man sits in a corner, speaking softly to another man and woman,
both middle-aged. The young man comes over and introduces himself as Gedeon Omari, a
doctor at Wasso Hospital. Madame Kashe asks us about our trip and asks me what I think of
Mwasapila. She makes it clear she is fond of the healer, but skeptical of his cure and adds, “I
likehowthey'retakingcareofBabunow!Heseemsmuchmoreenergetic.Helookedwasted
before.” The food is delicious, and Madame Kashe invites Jotham to take a hot shower in
some other part of the compound, which he gratefully accepts.
After a long meal, when I think we may be preparing to go to bed, Gedeon addresses me
directly. Speaking very softly, in English, he asks me what I'm hoping to achieve. I speak
