A Different Kind of Honeymoon

Nick and I were not long married when we left the comforts of San Francisco for two years of researching, teaching, and working in Kampala, Uganda. It turned out to be the experience of a lifetime. And right after my return visit there this summer, he and I spent a fun evening looking at photos and reminiscing about the people and places that made such an impression on us 30 years ago—although, we didn’t always remember things the same way.

Pointing with me is Dr. Jackson Orem, Executive Director of the Uganda Cancer Institute, as we walked the campus and I tried to remember where the medical students lived. Nick and I were always amazed that the trainees learning cancer medicine—who were on-call on-site every night—slept (when they caught a few winks, that is) in this tiny cement building behind UCI. Nick reminded me what it was like in the lab across from that building. The lab had these little plastic vials of blood samples that they kept in the freezer. One day Nick reached into the freezer and something moved. It was a rat! There was a rat in there eating through the plastic. Nick is so fastidious—you know, he's an infectious disease doctor—so that just stuck in his psyche and he's never recovered from it. We all shared the experiences of long hours and challenging conditions.

This is me shaking hands with Dr. Fred Okuku, who today is UCI’s doctor in the Kaposi’s Sarcoma solid tumor clinic. I had been talking to Dr. Gary Gilliland, President of Fred Hutch in the red tie, about my memories of staying overnight at the hospital when it dawned on Fred that I wasn't just some visitor from Seattle. That I had actually worked every day in the solid tumor clinic for two-straight years back in the day. Nick laughed about that because he remembered what it was like for locals to have visitors show up as if it were a fun trip you might later go home and tell your family about. We lived and worked there. I could feel Fred’s demeanor warm up as he realized this.

This is the Makerere University School of Public Health. I told Nick I was surprised where it was because I thought they had moved it. Obviously, they hadn't moved it since these buildings have been around forever. I was just struck because I was so locked into UCI during my time there, I didn’t orient myself to where Nick spent most of his time – on the campus of Makerere University. The other thing about this picture is that Moses Kamya (upper right) is in it. I'm really proud of Moses because he was a trainee when Nick and I were there. He was really young then. Now, I think of Moses as senior and wise but Nick’s memory is of him coaching Moses, encouraging him to get things done, which wasn't always easy. Nick really pushed Moses to raise his game and I think probably inspired Moses to believe he could achieve beyond what he may have thought for himself at the time. And now? He's the chair of the medical school. It’s a pretty cool thing.

Oh yeah, now this is a throwback. Is it Thursday? It still makes me smile the way we’re all standing on different steps. This is on the porch of our landlord’s house, a formidable local Ugandan businessman, with Dr. Edward Mbidde. Dr. Mbidde was not the landlord but rather the other certified oncologist in Uganda with me at UCI. He was very wise in many respects. He knew he should not leave two such young, na?ve Americans alone in negotiating our lease. So, when we had lunch with our future landlord, guess who we went with us? Dr. Mbidde. Nick and I remembered this moment alike: that we were lucky to have Dr. Mbidde. 

When I came back from the trip and Nick and I talked about our time in Uganda, there was one thing that was indelibly in our brains – the polio clinic. It was just very sad and they didn't have wheelchairs and proper crutches. So, people would crawl to the polio clinic, and we would see paralyzed young people who would literally crawl to the clinic for treatment and that was just shocking and astounding to me, then. And today, how wonderful that UCI and Uganda don’t even need the polio clinic anymore!

We did not have time to do much socializing in Uganda, and this is us at probably the only party we went to the entire time we were there. I remember there were dancing and lots of chatting with our friends. There were not very many people from America in Uganda at the time, which sometimes felt isolated, but also made us appreciate even more the friends we made. I don't even know who took this picture. It’s always funny for me to see photos of Nick when he had a mustache.

Nick was as amazed as I was to see Fred Hutch's sign on the new brick building because that is the swankiest thing ever. Nick's memory was of how remote and old and rundown Old Mulago was, which was where the former Uganda Cancer Institute stood. The facilities at the time were so horrible for the patients. This time around, I was delighted to see that the new facilities of the Uganda Cancer Institute-Fred Hutch Cancer Center are not just better prepared for the patients, they're state of the art. Conditions have improved over the past 30 years in Uganda in so many ways.

Looking through the photos with Nick reminded me how different our day-to-day experiences in Uganda were. But we both agreed that given the chance to do it over, we would go in a heartbeat—for the exact same reason. It was a great time in life for us to be hit on the side of the head and told: You're not so special, you've had it so easy and most people don’t. That was such a powerful, important lesson that shaped our careers and the way we see the world. It stays with us to this day.