The small, muscular and confident young man named ‘Freedom’, led me from the colorful and gritty center of Lamu, Africa back through the ever-narrowing alleys of town. I have arrived in Africa for the first time, and there is a welcome familiarity of the primitive realness of life here. Transitioning dramatically from the liveliness of the sea-side village, we emerge into a desert of sand dunes and driving sun, colored sparsely with the occasional acacia tree and donkey. “It’s only a twenty-minute walk from here”, he assures me and continues to entertain me by recounting the bitter-sweet history of the island with pride and solidarity.
It usually doesn’t take long in a third-world country where healthcare is not often readily available, for the locals to find out that I have medical training. I always try to travel with some resources should the opportunity arise to help someone, and today I was gifted with an experience that brought me back to the origin of it all; how ‘Inspiration Heals‘ came to be.
After a trek over blinding and scalding sand, we came to the edge of what looked like primitive barracks. Rebuilt after the traditional huts of the village were destroyed with El Nino, who also ravaged the village with malaria, the new village is comprised of stark and angular one-story compounds made of coral stone and cement. Having passed some traditional huts along the way, I couldn’t help but feel heart-broken for the villagers living in these cement walls, however protective, rather than within the beauty of more natural structures. The tone seemed to be a bit more apocalyptic and unwelcoming than a modern ‘upgrade’. As Freedom knowingly guided me deeper into the maze of trash covered paths, the villagers, some in traditional dress and others wearing modern clothes that could have very well washed up in the sea, smiled graciously as the children giggled whispering, ‘muzungu!‘. I am dazed by the drastic difference between ‘real’ life here and the tourist areas just a stone’s throw away.
For the past two days I have been sleeping on a boat. Freedom is one of the crew. In conversation, it came up that there is a young girl in his village that has lost a leg and is not healing well. Feeling helpless already with just a few acupuncture needles in my bag, I agree to go and take a look. I quickly sink into the uncomfortable reverie of all of the times I have been in a position to help someone but have not had the right tools and try to calm myself with understanding that even a few needles can provide powerful healing.
We arrive to a corner of this bleak cement world in the middle of paradise, having passed an entire village of people who clearly don’t have access to basic resources, healthcare aside, and duck into a two-room hut where a family of seven lives. I am greeted by the bright eyes of an eleven-year old, who because of a tetanus infection, has lost a leg. She is learning to move around with crutches, but due to an excruciating amount of pain, and a surgical site that is not healing well, she is afraid to return to school which amazingly, she is desperate to do. The twinkle in her eyes whispered humbly of an unbreakable spirit.
From the time I was a child, I dreamed of being a doctor and working in rural areas. My arrival to a practice of medicine that I believed in, was to say the least, circuitous. But the stops and seeming divergences along the way are what created the path exactly as it was meant to be filling my tool bag with diversity and perspective. One such stop, was my pursuit of an MFA in Dance. As I was preparing my thesis concert, a dear friend of mine was rendered quadriplegic in an accident. It was about the same time that I first came in contact with the ‘Starfish Story‘. Already overwhelmed as a young idealist by the magnitude of help needed in the world but moved deeply by the idea that perhaps just one by one is a good contribution, my thesis concert became a benefit concert and I invited the community to assist me in easing this one person’s suffering. And so was “Inspiration Heels” born, the title of the concert. A dance offering of inspiration to my friend, as well as an invitation for willing recipients to consider that we can inspire and assist each other in small but impactful ways, by seeing that helping even one amidst the multitudes makes a difference.
Freedom accompanies us into the second room of the hut where the only piece of furniture, one bed that everyone shares, decorates the stifling hot dark room. With Freedom as a translator, I learn about the girl’s story and offer a first treatment, batting away the numerous flies who want to participate too. I find that beyond the actual treatment, there is much to offer here in terms of basic hygiene and life-style practices and relax a bit in knowing that at least I can contribute something.
When I finished my medical studies and was faced with the task of naming my practice, the experience of my thesis concert still strongly with me, I decided to evolve the title into “Inspiration Heals” as a personal mantra to remind me of the wisdom of the Starfish Story as I began my path to facilitating for other people’s well-being. It doesn’t have to big and shiny, it just has to be honest and compassionate. One person at a time.
I breathe out fear,
I breathe in a new determination… to do my best with what I have for this girl.I still dream of doing something BIG, starting an important organization, having thousands of followers on Instagram, being a hero. But life is kind and humbling like a grandmother shaking her head lovingly, and has reminded me that perhaps the most important success is to be present with what is in front of you. Contribute what you can to each situation, and don’t doubt that even helping one is a help to all.
Until we are together again,
Molly