A Survivor's Story
The potted plants outside Marcus Monroe's apartment door are thriving. The ivy and peace lilies overflow their containers like little green rivers of vitality. Their vigor provides a stark contrast to the gaunt profile of their caretaker, whose emaciated frame looks barely able to carry his spirit through one more day. Monroe obviously is a sick man. At 53-years-old, he looks more like 70. His hollow check bones, deathly pale complexion and shockingly white hair give him the air of having cheated death when he got out of bed in the morning, but only barely.

---

I Love You, No Matter What
The dark clouds that filled the wide African sky had threatened rain all day, but they waited to disgorge their fat drops until the team of Americans had reached their destination. It was dark when the weary group piled out of their rented vans, known as mutatus, and gathered at the end of the road leading up to the orphanage gates. Sensing the impending shower, the children began their welcome songs immediately, grabbing the visitors by the hand and pulling them toward shelter accompanied by Swahili songs of celebration. Their joy was complete. Visitors are always welcome, but when visitors and rain come at the same time, it is considered a special blessing from God. The children at the World Hope Lemoru Children’s Home had not seen rain for two months.

Prescribing Hope
The heavy rain that pelted the tin roof of the rural Kenyan church temporarily drowned out the incessant human murmur that had filled the tight space moments before. The downpour came suddenly, just as the crowds of sick villagers had earlier that morning. They walked, some of them for miles, hoping to find a cure for the illnesses that plagued them.

On Safari!
For a brief day and a half, the group did a little relaxing at a safari camp in the Masai Mara Game reserve. The animals truly are amazing, as is the scenery. It is remarkable to be able to turn 360 degrees and see nothing but land unspoiled by human interference.

Cultural Battles and the Fight Against AIDS — June16, 2006
The respectful silence that greeted Hassan Ali Guyo when he stood to speak was shattered as soon as he completed his first sentence. “What I would like to know is, how is it possible for a man to rape his wife when marriage was designed so that a man can get his needs met?” he asked. The chorus of jeers that drowned the rest of his comments came from every woman in the room. In their anger, some of them even raised their fists in his direction.

Walking the Streets of Nairobi — June15, 2006
The street lights of downtown Nairobi reflected out of Ester’s big, brown eyes, making her look like a girl in a glamorous advertisement. While a cacophony of taxi horns, excited shouts and the commentary from Thursday’s World Cup soccer match wafted through the open window in front of her table in the second story bar of an area hotel, she calmly contemplated the beads of sweat forming on her bottle of Foster’s Light beer.

Diary Entry — Airborne Islands and Root Causes — June 14, 2006
People in airplanes either carve out their own personal island within the confines of one cramped seat, refusing to speak to anyone but the attendant, or they enter into their next door neighbors’ lives with an abandon unequalled under normal circumstances. My two row-mates chose the latter course beginning a spirited discussion over dinner that spilled into the post-meal coffee. I was excluded until the attendant brought around landing cards, much too early in the flight, and they began to ask where I was going.

Fighting AIDS, One Orphan at a Time
On a wind-swept Kenyan plain in January, a short, white man stretched out his leg in a perfect ushiro geri, or back kick. Behind him, 25 orphan boys watched him carefully. When he turned to them with an expectant air, the children mirrored his move in unison, with varying degrees of success.

The Trip
In 2005, 2.4 million people died of AIDS in Sub-Saharan Africa. Only 18,000 died in the United States of America during the same time period, according to statistics published by UNAIDS. The reasons for the difference in the death rates run the gamut from the willingness of each country’s government to deal with the epidemic to the financial resources available to fight the disease. By taking an honest look at the elements of the AIDS epidemic in Kenya and the individuals affected by it, I hope to shine a light on areas that could be improved, the people who are working to make those improvements and the obstacles they face.