Week One in Kamwenge

This is an excerpt from my personal journal I write every night highlighting the days activities. I thought it was blog worthy.

Friday, July 30, 2010

10:24pm

Worked with Isaac today. He’s the manager for the livestock program. We helped build a crash (thing to secure cows in) with a beneficiary’s 2 sons. Fetched water from a well. Hardest thing I have ever done. Loaded 25L (litres) onto a busted up bike and pushed it up the side of a mountain. No exaggeration. Took several breaks because I would have died. Heart nearly exploded. Water was used to mix concert for the floor of the crash. Very thankful for plumbing and indoor water. Should never complain again because I just turn a tap. They do that trek every day. Ate lots of good food provided by beneficiary. Ground nuts (peanuts) were delicious and freshly roasted. Milk tea was okay. Sugar helped, but doesn’t it help everything?

Dehorned a cow. Gross. Blood. Poop. Pissed off mama cow. Cows are strong. The legs were tied together but I had to make sure the cow didn’t kick much. At first I was on one side of the cow but Isaac said I should go to the other. Risk of blood getting all over my tan trousers. Good heads up. I moved over and stood on its legs. The hacksaw began to cut and the cow kicked me off. I practically laid on the heifer in response. Then I got a fierce hip cramp. Never had one of those. Had to ride it out or the cow would have killed me and the 4 others holding it down plus a few small under-aged observes getting their biology lesson for the day. Cauterized the bleeding wound with a busted up metal hammer heated up in a fire. Archaic but functional. Smelled exactly how you would imagine. Cut the blood-soaked hair with a razor blade. Don’t want flies to lay their eggs there. Flipped the cow over like a waffle iron. Stepped in a hot, fresh load. My bad. Comes with the intern title. I get the butt. Repeat for second horn. Mom pissed even more but safely locked up in her pen 4 yards away. How strong is that wooden gate? Can I out run an African? Doubtful. I can push one down though, then run. Second horn to cut and this time around I get to hold the legs and pin the head/ face to the ground. Now I’m definitely spread-eagle over this beast whose belching methane gas like it just drank a Coke. I keep waiting for more than just gas. I rode it out again. No hip cramp- sweet, merciful Jesus. You don’t want to know what I was thinking in my head. It was a “what the H (Helsinki, Finland of course) am I doing here?” moments. I’m sure I will have more of them. Maybe one tomorrow.