Two worlds hold Barron's heart.

Byline: Jeff Wright The Register-Guard

BROWNSVILLE - Winnie Barron puts on her fire pants, boots and hat - and the smile that says she loves her work as a volunteer firefighter and paramedic - and gets ready to roll for a water-pumping drill at the city park.

She's a regular at the Brownsville Volunteer Fire Department's weekly training meetings, where she finds connection and camaraderie.

"Our points of view differ from A to Z politically and religiously, but we are together in so many aspects, and one is to be there for the community," Barron says. "It's the same as in Makindu."

Makindu.

That's the impoverished village in eastern Kenya that Barron has finally left, yet can never leave behind - the community she first visited in 1997 to help found a children's center for a growing number of AIDS orphans.

Barron, 45, returned home last fall - after a side trip to Rwanda to visit "my little cherub," Marie Nyirandorere, the girl she befriended and then lost contact with during Rwanda's nightmare of genocide - inspiring Barron's return to Africa and Makindu. Marie is now 15 and "happy, healthy and gorgeous," an unbiased Barron reports.

In Brownsville, meanwhile, seemingly half the populace has contributed time and money to the town's unofficial "sister village" of Makindu. They and others will get another chance Sunday when Barron leads a public presentation - her first since returning home - on the Makindu Children's Program's ambitious goals to help not only the village's orphans but all its residents.

Barron insists she has the best of both worlds - "fortunate enough now to have two lives and two `families' ' - even though it means a part of her is always pining: "When I'm here, I miss my home over there, and when I'm over there, I miss my home here."

She is back at her farmhouse - on 80 acres she shares east of town with her new puppy, Kili - and back at work as a physician's assistant in Junction City and Harrisburg. In between, she is on the run on behalf of the fire department, search and rescue, and, of course, the children of Makindu.

Barron hopes to return to Makindu later this year, and most every year, for a month or two at a time. But she figures Brownsville is her permanent address - "though I'm leaving it to God and the universe to tell me for sure."

Barron, who grew up in rural Colorado, has lived here since the mid-1980s. Small-town life, she says, is what she knows and prefers.

Just last week, she accidentally left her keys in the door at the office where she takes care of Makindu-related business. By the time she returned, the keys were gone and the door was locked. On a hunch, she walked over to the coffee shop next door and, sure enough, there were the keys that someone had dropped off for her.

"That's Brownsville," she says.

In Kenya, she says, everyone is part of a clan, tribe and village - creating boundaries and rivalries that need to be overcome if people are to survive harsh poverty. The result is a sense of community that matches what Barron sees in Brownsville.

"Most Brownsvillians would be shocked to hear me describe them this way - these are very conservative people," she says. "But they're global in a very heart sense, in terms of accountability and a compulsion to help."

A phone call away

For all the rewards of homecoming, however, there have also been struggles. Don Andrews, a volunteer firefighter who also serves as executive director of the nonprofit Makindu Children's Program, says he sees it as Barron tries to balance a busy schedule while maintaining her Makindu connections from 10,000 miles away.

When the Makindu center's director calls for advice, "you know she'd love to just climb on a plane and take care of it," he says.

Thanks to technology, Barron can talk directly to Makindu via cell phone, which helps enormously, says Diana Barron, a family practice doctor in Brownsville who is Winnie Barron's ex-sister-in-law and best friend.

"When she feels the kids are secure and taken care of, her mind is at rest," Diana Barron says.

About a month ago, on the first cell phone call, Winnie Barron says she was both thrilled and homesick to hear some of the Makindu children laughing and singing in the background. "It was surreal - a little piece of magic that really bridged the distance gap for me," she says.

From Barron's perspective, the hardest part of re-entry has been seeing the disparities and injustices of society more keenly - in Kenya and in America.

"I'm having to scurry to keep patients on oxygen," she says of her job at the medical clinic, "and it's just absurd to me that this is happening in a country like ours with so many resources. I feel a little ashamed."

Barron says she's been unable to eat any of the elaborate meals that arrive for free at her clinic, compliments of drug company representatives eager to hawk their medicines.

"I can't do it - not when a majority of my patients can't afford their medicines or insurance premiums," she says. "I keep thinking, `Can't we put that (meal) money aside for those in Oregon who are hungry?' '

Barron also struggles with the paperwork that has become the norm for U.S.-style health care. Sometimes, she fancies it "would be easier to just airlift myself to Kenya with no resources but my own innovation. I'd feel less frustrated."

Feet in two worlds

She says she can't forget the words that her Makindu center co-founder, Dianah Nzomo of Kenya, shared after visiting Brownsville two years ago: "Winnie, even your dogs have beds."

In Makindu, of course, many people live without beds - or shelter or food or good health. AIDS has ravaged the community, and it's that realization that's made Barron and others come to see that an HIV/AIDS education, testing and counseling program for everyone - not just orphans - is necessary.

The reasons for Barron's determination ring in the names of the orphans - Emma Rose, Mwaysa, Kabibi - who have already fallen to AIDS. She can't forget the day that the normally shy Kibibi, who died last year at age 16, spoke proudly of her dream to become a teacher.

"We loved those kids and then we loved them some more," Barron says. "What else could we do?"

Barron answers with her zeal as a "fund-raising demon" for Makindu and its people - a walking, talking advertisement to anyone who will listen. She seems unfazed about spreading herself too thin, even as she shares herself with two communities halfway across the world from each other.

Her belief that she can meld those two worlds is perhaps best reflected in her new dog.

It was hard, Barron says, to let go after her previous dog Snef - named for Mount Sneffels, a majestic peak in Colorado that Barron hiked often while growing up - died five years ago at age 17. Barron says she never felt ready to own another pet until last fall, when she figured a new dog would cement her renewed commitment to Brownsville.

She chose an Australian shepherd mix who's still growing at 6 months and 60 pounds. The dog's name, Kili, is short for Kilimanjaro - the tallest mountain in Africa. On a clear day, Barron says, you can see it from the Kenyan village of Makindu.

MAKINDU CHILDREN'S PROGRAM

Presentation and fund-raiser to include slides, video clips 

When/where: Sunday, 3:30 p.m. to 5:30 p.m., Recreation Center, behind Fire Hall, downtown Brownsville

Cost: Free; donations encouraged

Available for sale: Woven baskets made by Makindu women

More information: Visit www.makindu.org online or call 466-5521

To contribute: Send donations to Makindu Children's Program, P.O. Box 325, Brownsville, OR 97327

CAPTION(S):

Winnie Barron, co-founder of the Makindu Children's Center in Kenya, embraces Kabibi, a 14-year-old who was battling AIDS and TB when this photo was taken in 1998 and has since died. Barron is back in Brownsville, but she and many others there help the children in the town's unofficial "sister village," and she still regularly calls Makindu. Wayne Eastburn / The Register-Guard Winnie Barron gets ready to roll for one of the Brownsville Volunteer Fire Department's training drills, where Barron says she enjoys the camaraderie. Winnie Barron, co-founder of the Makindu Children's Center, embraces Kabibi, a 14-year-old who is dying of AIDS and TB, in this file photo from late 1998.JumpHeadq=cf=PoyGT Black s=30 l=30f=Miller Roman s=30 l=30w%95ol+14oq=lf=PoyRG Italic s=9 l=10u=BACC748APullQuoteq=cf=PoyGT Black s=7.5 l=12f=PoyGT RegCondQuickReadq=cf=RULESf=PoyRG Italic s=12 l=13JumpHeadq=cf=PoyGT Black s=24 l=24f=Miller Roman s=24 l=24w%95ol+14oq=lf=PoyRG Italic s=9 l=10JumpTof=PoyRG Italic s=9 l=10f=PoyGT Blackof=PoyRG Italic s=9 l=10u=BACC7481CreditLineq=rf=Miller RomanSC s=7.5 l=8f=PoyRG Italic s=7.5 l=8u=BAD9A44BSourceCaptionInfo: Winnie Barron gets her turnouts be for recent fire drill.