Sometimes...

When we got to Nairobi we had to sign a document that said that we wouldn't engage in any 'dangerous activity.'  This included things as bizarre as skydiving and as mundane as swimming or hiking.  I've broken a lot of the rules just from the nature of life here.  You go swimming because it's hot and you're living in a village.  You go hiking because you're in Uganda and you want to go to the waterfall.  You ride on the back of a piki piki/boda boda (motorcycle) for forty minutes into the mshambani (farmland) without a helmet because there's no other form of transportation to get to your interview and no helmet available.
Imagine... if I had to take a boda boda with just a backpack (by the way, I've started wearing bui bui which is the black sack like dress that Muslims wear and a hijab, so I get a lot of stares), the woman that I was going to visit, with a hydrocephalic child, has to do the same to take her to the hospital.  The boda boda only gets her to the main road- she then has to take a matatu all the way to town.  She lives on a farm, doing subsistence work and her husband is unemployed.  This means that, for the 500 shillings that it costs to go to and from the hospital (about six dollars).... I actually have no idea where on earth it could come from.   Life is incredibly hard here, I guess is the point that I'm trying to get across... and you well may realize it in theory, but until you visit people's homes and they offer you what little they have- it doesn't really hit home.