Arrival and Beginnings

My wife and I arrived in Eldoret, Kenya yesterday morning, running on a little sleep and a lot of excitement. We’ve both been jumping across the US for the last three weeks, including my terrible 24 hour Seattle to Boston trip that included sleeping in the Dallas-Fort Worth airport to the soothing sound of vacuum cleaners, floor scrubbers, and a two year old who was much too awake for 2am in the morning. Arriving in Eldoret has been like clearing that last hill and then realizing the destination is suddenly upon us. We’re here.

There have been many thoughts and feelings to process, but I’ve been most struck by a sense of arrival. I’ve talked about being overseas for a long time, and I’ve worked in global health and development at the strategy level while being based in Boston. But knowledge is a funny thing, and English seems limited in its ability to describe different kinds of knowledge. I “know” something about global health and development – from research papers, news articles, blogs, conversations with experts and friends in the field. But I don’t “know” much first-hand. I can talk about the randomized controlled trials (starts at 8:50, or transcript here) that show that giving away insecticide treated mosquito nets for free is more effective at preventing malaria than charging a nominal fee (at least under the trial conditions). But I haven’t run a malaria prevention program, or seen one in action, nor do I know much about how it affects a community beyond the top-line prevention numbers.

Arriving has meant crossing this distance between knowing in my head, and seeing with my eyes. I’ve had a lot of studying the forest in the last three years and now I’m ready to be in the trees. And I know there is a lot to learn from the trees that you can’t see from the air. What do people really want? How does the community interact with the program? What difference is the program making in people’s lives? This is a big part of what I hope to immerse myself in.

On a more guttural level, arrival also feels like a bit of a test. I’ve often imagined what it would be like to live overseas and to work in global health and development. Now I’m here, and I wonder if my experience will meet my expectations. I don’t have naïve hopes for dramatic impact or sweeping change – I’ve been deep enough in this work to know that the ten months we’re here is short, barely enough time to ramp up and become effective. But will I thrive here, not just doing good work, but finding life in Eldoret life-giving and sustainable?

I have high hopes, and am looking forward to wrestling with all that will be challenging, depressing, frustrating, joyful, exciting, and amazing.