As I was preparing dinner tonight- I looked in the vegetable drawer for the snow peas I had bought at the grocery store a few days ago. I had a great mental menu planned; a sort of America-stir-fry with beef tips, rice, snow peas, and Soy sauce for flavor. I had no actual idea how to cook the meal, but figured it couldn’t be too hard. Although, you wouldn’t believe how challenging I have found it to cook for myself again, after having lived with the luxury of having food prepared for me by skilled kitchen staff for the last 2.5 years (while on the ship in Africa and in Bolivia & Chile).
Anyhow, I have embraced the cooking challenge and I am giving cooking my best shot. I cannot rely on the American staple of peanut butter, the peanut butter here in London, England, tastes horrible! And I have yet to find a grocery store that sells grape jelly. No more PB& J sandwiches. But, back to the point, I had all my ingredients lined up on the kitchen counter and was getting ready to open the snow peas when I looked at the wrapper they were in. It read “trimmed mange tout, grown in Zambia.” I thought, “Oh no, what did I buy? I thought I bought snow peas. What in the world is trimmed mange tout?” At the grocery store, I was so focused on figuring out the conversion rate between the British Pound and the American Dollar that I didn’t look closely at what I had purchased. I stared at the mange tout on my counter for a few minutes trying to decide how adventurous I was feeling and if I wanted to figure out how to cook mange tout.
My adventurous spirit won and I got online- using my newly acquired dongle (which was a new thing to me as well. A dongle is an amazing device that you stick into your computer and immediately you have internet. Apparently these came out in the last few years when I was living in Tim-buck-to away from modern technological advances). I typed in “trimmed mange tout” and found about 9,790 websites that featured “mange tout.” Although I was oblivious to the concept of mange tout, the world wasn’t. To my surprise, but relief, I found out mange tout is another name for sugar peas, sugar snap peas, or snow peas. I wondered why in the world- they couldn’t have just written snow peas on the package. Oh, well, it is all part of adjusting to my new home and the culture here in the United Kingdom.
Speaking of adjustments, I am doing well. I do feel like I have been living in a jet-lagged whirlwind these past few days, but that is almost normal for me at this stage in my travels as a missionary nurse. I arrived in London September 13 after encountering an overbooked flight, a change of flight pattern from Salt Lake City ->Chicago -> London, to Salt Lake City -> Dallas Fort Worth -> London. After 21 hours of travel from Rupert Idaho, I reached London, England, totally stinky, tired, exhausted, and super excited to begin this next chapter and adventure in my life.
My adventures started almost the moment I landed at Heathrow airport. I tried to get into the right side of the car to head to my new flat with my Mercy Ship’s friend from South Africa that now lives in London who had graciously picked me up at the airport. I stood by the door for a few minutes waiting for my friend to unlock the car doors so we could get in and zip off toward London- my new home for at least the next 4.5 months. I wondered why he wasn’t opening the doors, but couldn’t be bothered with asking and I stared off into space, like a proper jet-lagged individual. A few moments later, I heard my friend’s voice behind me as he politely reminded me, he would be driving and I needed to go the left-side of the car, which is the passenger side of the car here in the UK. Oops- I forgot things are opposite here in the UK. I experienced more of this reality as we drove down the free-way and I kept ducking and flinching, feeling as if cars were going to hit us, because I felt they were coming at us from the wrong direction.
I experienced another level of a shock when I opened the door to my new flat and found the place absolutely filthy. The carpet was dirty. The walls were layered with scum, there were soiled dishes in the kitchen cabinets, the stove was a nightmare covered with layers of dried grease, the cupboards were filled with expired food from the year 2007, the fridge was manky (one of my new British vocabulary words- meaning rotten-slimy, sick, manky), there was moldy linen in the bedrooms, and I could have written my name in the dust on the kitchen counters. I was slightly disappointed with the situation, but figured I would make the best of it. It wasn’t exactly a situation I expected to find myself in considering the UK is a developed country, but I just chalked the situation up as another missionary experience and figured I would have plenty cleaning to keep me busy in the middle of the night when jet-lag wreaked havoc.
Two days after I arrived in London. I found myself seated in a lecture theater at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine. With eagerness and excitement I sat in the seat and listened to the director of my course, the Diploma in Tropical Nursing, introduce herself. One of the first things she asked was “how many of you have heard of the book titled Where There Is No Doctor...” Many of the 65 of us enrolled in the course raised our hands. The professor went on the say, “that is why we are here. We are going to prepare you to live and work…Where there is no doctor…”
I sighed deeply and a smile spread across my face. I am in a new country, my flat situation was less that desired, although it is cleaning up nicely with elbow grease, I didn’t have a phone line or internet as promised; things are expensive here, especially since I have no incoming income considering my nursing license application has yet to be approved even though I started the application process this past April, the peanut butter irritates my taste buds, and fancy words are used to describe simple things such as snow peas. Despite all of that, I know without a doubt, I am right where I need to be, in the center of God’s will, learning how to live and work…Where there is no doctor…so that I can bless the nations with the gift of God’s healing love through my nursing care. I couldn’t be happier!
Friday, September 24, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
February 13th I left snowy Idaho and headed for hot &humid Bolivia, South America
…in Bolivia… I sweated my guts out & participated in a Discipleship Training School with Youth with a Mission (YWAM), a Christian organization with the vision of “Knowing God & Making Him Known.” The school had a 3 month lecture phase and 2 month practical-outreach phase to put into practice all we learned in the classroom phase of the course. The classroom phase was intense and I describe the process as going through “soul-surgery.” I realized I have a serious issue with pride and God taught me many things. We covered intense topics such as forgiveness and restoration, inner healing, spiritual warfare, God’s plan for us, Worldview, the Holy Spirit, Inductive Bible Study, and many more topics.
May 6th I left Bolivia and travelled to the earthquake zone in Chile, South America
…in Chile… I froze my toenails off, not literally, but man it was cold. Considering Chile is in the Southern Hemisphere, my visit was perfectly aligned with the dead of winter. It was cold! I love the cold and winter is my favorite time of the year, but I have realized proper clothing, heaters, hot water, hot chocolate, & warm cozy houses are all essential components that contribute to my love for winter. I am not so keen on the cold when I don’t have those lovely items! Oh, it wasn’t all that bad, but definitely another adventure. I didn’t complain the entire time I was there. I also helped build houses, provided community & mental health nursing care and counseling, slept on the floor in a building without heat or running water, played with children, performed dramas in churches and schools, seriously improved my Spanish skills, worked with the government to unload huge trucks of mattresses, blankets, sheet rock, & other emergency supplies. I moved and helped distribute tons of flour, went weeks without a shower, knocked on doors of houses in the worst devastated areas and offered to work, clean, listen, & pray for the people. I got strep throat and lived with a Chilean family for a week while I was recovering. My group and I set up a table in an area destroyed by the tsunami and painted nails, cut hair, & offered massages. The list goes on and on…
June 29th I left Chile and travelled to Bolivia
…in Bolivia… I gathered the rest of my belongings that I had left there while on outreach in Chile and I graduated from my Discipleship Training School.
July 1st I left Bolivia and travelled to Texas. I left Bolivia feeling restored, refreshed and more equipped to pursue more of my dream to be a missionary nurse.
…in Texas…I met up with one of my best mates, named Karl, a crazy Australian guy that I met on the ship in Africa. I also visited Mercy Ship’s headquarters in Garden Valley, Texas. I was reunited with many other lovely friends from the ship.
July 4th I left Texas and travelled to Idaho
…in Idaho…I basically stopped over for a few nights to empty all of my belongings onto the floor in my old room at my parent’s house & donate a sample of my urine at a local nursing home to test it for drugs, the final stage in my hiring process for temporary employment. I interviewed over a computer phone from a small internet café in Chile, but even though technology is amazing these days, there was no other way for me to offer my urine sample for drug screening without delivering it in person.
July 7th I left Idaho and travelled to New Hampshire
…in New Hampshire… I was reunited with my dear friends and church family that I met while working at Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center while I lived in New Hampshire. I also dug through all my material belongings that my dear friend has faithfully stored for me the last 2.5 years while I was in Africa and South America. With tears in my eyes and a heaviness of heart, I made garage sale signs and sold almost everything I own, knowing that it is not good stewardship to leave my items in a box, molding & rusting in my friend’s basement when I will probably not use the things again for a long time.
July 13th I left New Hampshire and returned to Idaho
…since returning to Idaho... I have been experiencing the biggest culture shock of my life…returning to nursing in the USA. July 15th I started a row of 12-hour orientation shifts at a local nursing home. The first day at my new job all the staff and care aids gathered in a circle for morning report, out of habit from the ship, I bowed my head thinking we were going to pray before starting the day. I was quickly brought back to reality when I heard one of my new co-workers cuss and the others converse in some of the most vulgar language I have heard for a long time. I almost cried. I miss Africa.
I had three 12-hour orientation shifts and was launched into nursing on my own. I am now working full-time night shifts at the nursing home. The learning curve is huge; I have never worked in long-term care and have been out of nursing in the USA for 2.5 years now. YIKES! I am responsible for 30 patients and I haven’t yet figured out how to accomplish everything I need to within the time limit of my shift, the entire process is entirely stressful, but I have seen God take me through greater challenges. I see God answering prayers already because I was wondering how I would stay awake on my night shifts. So far that hasn’t been a problem. I run all night long trying to get everything done!
The other night, I was standing at my med cart when I felt someone pinch my behind. I heard a male co-worker quickly claim, “That wasn’t me!” I was feeling slightly offended until I heard a squeaky little voice from the 90 year-old grandma in a wheel-chair behind me say, “he he, that it was me!” Oh, my goodness, I am in a different world!
With the vision of someday returning to care for African orphans and precious chocolate children in my mind and the goal to show God’s love to every person I come into contact with, I bravely return to the nursing home for each shift I am scheduled. Out of stress and pure exhaustion, I have cried almost every shift I have worked so far, but that is okay. I am working as hard as I can to earn money for what God has prepared for me next.
September 12th… Lord willing, I will board a plane headed for London, England. I am pleased to announce that I have been accepted to take a 4.5 month course in tropical nursing at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine. I am super excited about this opportunity as the course is in high demand and nurses travel from all over the world to participate in this course. The course is designed specifically for nurses who have the passion to serve overseas in undeveloped areas. I will study tropical diseases, community health, water and sanitation, malaria, typhoid fever, dengue fever, leprosy, & learn about all the other freaky little parasites that are out there!
Right Now… It is the middle of the night & I am wide awake. Instead of being frustrated that I cannot sleep, I am working on my to-do-list that is a mile long. Thank all of you for your amazing love and support throughout the years! I love all of you very much!
…in Bolivia… I sweated my guts out & participated in a Discipleship Training School with Youth with a Mission (YWAM), a Christian organization with the vision of “Knowing God & Making Him Known.” The school had a 3 month lecture phase and 2 month practical-outreach phase to put into practice all we learned in the classroom phase of the course. The classroom phase was intense and I describe the process as going through “soul-surgery.” I realized I have a serious issue with pride and God taught me many things. We covered intense topics such as forgiveness and restoration, inner healing, spiritual warfare, God’s plan for us, Worldview, the Holy Spirit, Inductive Bible Study, and many more topics.
May 6th I left Bolivia and travelled to the earthquake zone in Chile, South America
…in Chile… I froze my toenails off, not literally, but man it was cold. Considering Chile is in the Southern Hemisphere, my visit was perfectly aligned with the dead of winter. It was cold! I love the cold and winter is my favorite time of the year, but I have realized proper clothing, heaters, hot water, hot chocolate, & warm cozy houses are all essential components that contribute to my love for winter. I am not so keen on the cold when I don’t have those lovely items! Oh, it wasn’t all that bad, but definitely another adventure. I didn’t complain the entire time I was there. I also helped build houses, provided community & mental health nursing care and counseling, slept on the floor in a building without heat or running water, played with children, performed dramas in churches and schools, seriously improved my Spanish skills, worked with the government to unload huge trucks of mattresses, blankets, sheet rock, & other emergency supplies. I moved and helped distribute tons of flour, went weeks without a shower, knocked on doors of houses in the worst devastated areas and offered to work, clean, listen, & pray for the people. I got strep throat and lived with a Chilean family for a week while I was recovering. My group and I set up a table in an area destroyed by the tsunami and painted nails, cut hair, & offered massages. The list goes on and on…
June 29th I left Chile and travelled to Bolivia
…in Bolivia… I gathered the rest of my belongings that I had left there while on outreach in Chile and I graduated from my Discipleship Training School.
July 1st I left Bolivia and travelled to Texas. I left Bolivia feeling restored, refreshed and more equipped to pursue more of my dream to be a missionary nurse.
…in Texas…I met up with one of my best mates, named Karl, a crazy Australian guy that I met on the ship in Africa. I also visited Mercy Ship’s headquarters in Garden Valley, Texas. I was reunited with many other lovely friends from the ship.
July 4th I left Texas and travelled to Idaho
…in Idaho…I basically stopped over for a few nights to empty all of my belongings onto the floor in my old room at my parent’s house & donate a sample of my urine at a local nursing home to test it for drugs, the final stage in my hiring process for temporary employment. I interviewed over a computer phone from a small internet café in Chile, but even though technology is amazing these days, there was no other way for me to offer my urine sample for drug screening without delivering it in person.
July 7th I left Idaho and travelled to New Hampshire
…in New Hampshire… I was reunited with my dear friends and church family that I met while working at Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center while I lived in New Hampshire. I also dug through all my material belongings that my dear friend has faithfully stored for me the last 2.5 years while I was in Africa and South America. With tears in my eyes and a heaviness of heart, I made garage sale signs and sold almost everything I own, knowing that it is not good stewardship to leave my items in a box, molding & rusting in my friend’s basement when I will probably not use the things again for a long time.
July 13th I left New Hampshire and returned to Idaho
…since returning to Idaho... I have been experiencing the biggest culture shock of my life…returning to nursing in the USA. July 15th I started a row of 12-hour orientation shifts at a local nursing home. The first day at my new job all the staff and care aids gathered in a circle for morning report, out of habit from the ship, I bowed my head thinking we were going to pray before starting the day. I was quickly brought back to reality when I heard one of my new co-workers cuss and the others converse in some of the most vulgar language I have heard for a long time. I almost cried. I miss Africa.
I had three 12-hour orientation shifts and was launched into nursing on my own. I am now working full-time night shifts at the nursing home. The learning curve is huge; I have never worked in long-term care and have been out of nursing in the USA for 2.5 years now. YIKES! I am responsible for 30 patients and I haven’t yet figured out how to accomplish everything I need to within the time limit of my shift, the entire process is entirely stressful, but I have seen God take me through greater challenges. I see God answering prayers already because I was wondering how I would stay awake on my night shifts. So far that hasn’t been a problem. I run all night long trying to get everything done!
The other night, I was standing at my med cart when I felt someone pinch my behind. I heard a male co-worker quickly claim, “That wasn’t me!” I was feeling slightly offended until I heard a squeaky little voice from the 90 year-old grandma in a wheel-chair behind me say, “he he, that it was me!” Oh, my goodness, I am in a different world!
With the vision of someday returning to care for African orphans and precious chocolate children in my mind and the goal to show God’s love to every person I come into contact with, I bravely return to the nursing home for each shift I am scheduled. Out of stress and pure exhaustion, I have cried almost every shift I have worked so far, but that is okay. I am working as hard as I can to earn money for what God has prepared for me next.
September 12th… Lord willing, I will board a plane headed for London, England. I am pleased to announce that I have been accepted to take a 4.5 month course in tropical nursing at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine. I am super excited about this opportunity as the course is in high demand and nurses travel from all over the world to participate in this course. The course is designed specifically for nurses who have the passion to serve overseas in undeveloped areas. I will study tropical diseases, community health, water and sanitation, malaria, typhoid fever, dengue fever, leprosy, & learn about all the other freaky little parasites that are out there!
Right Now… It is the middle of the night & I am wide awake. Instead of being frustrated that I cannot sleep, I am working on my to-do-list that is a mile long. Thank all of you for your amazing love and support throughout the years! I love all of you very much!
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Raining Buckets
I am now in the costal city of Constitucion, Chile. I have been here for about 11 days now. My group and I are sleeping on the floor in a school. I am thankful the school has running water and that we have little cushions to sleep on. We eat our meals like a big family around the science labortary table. It has been raining buckets for the past few days, this complicates things a little bit. There is tons of wind and one would think this would help dry things, but it only pushes the rain around more. It is difficult to construct houses and help the people when it is soaking wet outside. My ocassional bucket showers are not proving to be very efficient, so I am thinking of taking my shampoo out into the street to enjoy the free showers God is providing. I washed my clothes the other day, the one day we had sun. They are still soaking wet. I don't know if they are ever going to dry! I had to buy more socks in the market today because I literally do not have any more dry socks to use! The world cup is on and the Chilean people are huge supporters of soccer. The other day Chile played their first game. The government set up a huge circus tent for the people that have lost their homes and we joined the group to watch the game at 7:30am! After the game we held a program for the kids of the community inside the tent. The event ended with the kids jumping all over me and rubbing sawdust (which was brought in to cover the mud) all over me. I thought it was fun until one of the little girls spit in my direction at the exact same time I was trying to breath and her spit landed in my mouth! Oh, what fun! I wish I could write more and explain all that is happening, but I do not have much time to get to the internet. I love all of you and thank you for your thoughts and prayers! 
Monday, May 24, 2010
Random Points of Interest
-There are small earthquakes daily here in Chile. The past few days the quakes have been more frequent and strong. The most recent quake (30 minutes ago was a 5.4 on the richter scale). Most of the people living here are becoming accustomed to the daily quakes, but for others each small quake continues to serve as a reminder of the pain and tragedy that the original earthquake on February 27,2010 brought. The earthquakes come out of no where. Yesterday when I was eating dinner, I heard a lot of noise, as if a train was going to come through my front yard, then everything started to shake. Everything shakes for about 15-20 seconds and then the shaking stops. God has blessed me with no fear in these situations, but I would continue to ask for your safety and protection. Also, pray for the people here in Chile who are experiencing painful flashbacks every time these earthquakes come. Pray for peace in their hearts and strength to carry on and rebuild amidst their current struggles.
-The current value of the Chilean Peso is about 539 Chilean Pesos to 1 USD. To put things into context, it costs 350 Chilean Pesos to ride the local bus. I am no math wizard, but I think that equals about .65 cents.
-The currency in Bolivia is Bolivianos the current exchange rate there is 7 Bolivianos to 1 USD. It costs 1.50 Bolivianos to ride the local bus in Bolivia. That is less than .21 cents. Bolivia is the poorest country in South America and the poorest country in in all of Latin America next to Haiti.
-I am currently involved in some serious active nursing care, unfortunately, I am the patient. I have come down with strep-throat. A number of others in my group are feeling ill as well. Please pray.
-The current value of the Chilean Peso is about 539 Chilean Pesos to 1 USD. To put things into context, it costs 350 Chilean Pesos to ride the local bus. I am no math wizard, but I think that equals about .65 cents.
-The currency in Bolivia is Bolivianos the current exchange rate there is 7 Bolivianos to 1 USD. It costs 1.50 Bolivianos to ride the local bus in Bolivia. That is less than .21 cents. Bolivia is the poorest country in South America and the poorest country in in all of Latin America next to Haiti.
-I am currently involved in some serious active nursing care, unfortunately, I am the patient. I have come down with strep-throat. A number of others in my group are feeling ill as well. Please pray.
Gringa Missionary Snowwoman
The temperatures are dropping. It is getting colder here in Chile as the Southern Hemisphere heads toward winter. The morning air is cold, damp, and anything but fresh. I can see my breath as I walk down the street to Señora Claudia's house for breakfast. I clomp through mud and puddles of stagnant water, thanking God that I have steel toed, rubber work boots. Breakfast is a humble serving of bread and butter along with a cup of boiled water. I am thankful that the water is boiled and I pray that the boiled water has thoroughly cleansed the mug I am about to drink from because I have observed the precious grandpa of the house washing the dishes in cold water without soap. I decline the coffee and tea that is served and I spoon a few scoops of chocolate mix, from my secret stash, into my cup. I realize I am missing an essential ingredient to perfect my cup of hot chocolate, but that is beside the point. Milk is not being served, so with a grateful heart, I sip my warm beverage and thank God that I have something warm to drink and that he provided me with the gift of chocolate mix from a little store down the road.
After breakfast is finished I head down the road looking like a freaky gringa snowwoman with my scarf, hat, gloves, and many layers of clothing. My outfit is completed with my red work smock-apron-vest that says "Youth With a Mission" in Spanish on the front and "Humanitarian Aid Volunteer" on the back. Although I am cold, I thank God for the fact that the cold weather has seemed to freeze my body odor. The cold is a true gift in this regard because my current shower routine has me showering around every 4-5 days..jpg)
With my growing Spanish vocabulary, I greet every person I pass on the street. The little barrio (neighborhood) of Santa Clara where I am living and working is a buzz of activity. Huge trucks are coming and going moving piles of rubble and dirt. I hear the clip-clop-clip-clop of horse hoofs from a horse drawn cart that is transporting supplies. Across the street an old man and young girl are digging through the remains of their once beautiful home, hoping to find remnants of treasured belongings. An elderly man struggles to push a wheelbarrow full of wood and construction tools down the pothole filled road. I look at all my surroundings and I am puzzled. It is hard to imagine what this neighborhood once looked like. I am told it was beautiful and lovely, but that is hard to imagine when I am surrounded by destroyed homes. I find it difficult to differentiate between the lines of poverty and destruction from the earthquake and tsunami.
I pass a few more houses with people eagerly waiting outside for my assistance and I assure them that their name is on the list for help and my group will be pleased to help them shortly. But for the moment, my attention and focus turns to the Señora in front of me. I enter her recently constructed home that follows the Chilean government's guidelines for construction of emergency houses and I set to work. I measure, I mark, and I cut the chunks of styrofoam that we are using for insulation. As I continue to measure, mark, and cut again and again, the small home where I am working transforms into a winterwonderland as bits and pieces of styrofoam start floating through the air. I giggle because this missionary snowwoman now has a snowy environment to match her snowwoman attire.
As my team and I finish insulating one tiny home after another, I thank God for the opportunity to be here. I pray that God's love will be with the people of this community and I pray that when the cold, cutting, winter that is just around the corner arrives that these precious people of God will not only be warmed by the home they now have to live in, but that the will be warmed from the inside out because in the name of God, one gringa missionary snowwoman gave what she could to share God's love.
After breakfast is finished I head down the road looking like a freaky gringa snowwoman with my scarf, hat, gloves, and many layers of clothing. My outfit is completed with my red work smock-apron-vest that says "Youth With a Mission" in Spanish on the front and "Humanitarian Aid Volunteer" on the back. Although I am cold, I thank God for the fact that the cold weather has seemed to freeze my body odor. The cold is a true gift in this regard because my current shower routine has me showering around every 4-5 days..jpg)
With my growing Spanish vocabulary, I greet every person I pass on the street. The little barrio (neighborhood) of Santa Clara where I am living and working is a buzz of activity. Huge trucks are coming and going moving piles of rubble and dirt. I hear the clip-clop-clip-clop of horse hoofs from a horse drawn cart that is transporting supplies. Across the street an old man and young girl are digging through the remains of their once beautiful home, hoping to find remnants of treasured belongings. An elderly man struggles to push a wheelbarrow full of wood and construction tools down the pothole filled road. I look at all my surroundings and I am puzzled. It is hard to imagine what this neighborhood once looked like. I am told it was beautiful and lovely, but that is hard to imagine when I am surrounded by destroyed homes. I find it difficult to differentiate between the lines of poverty and destruction from the earthquake and tsunami. I pass a few more houses with people eagerly waiting outside for my assistance and I assure them that their name is on the list for help and my group will be pleased to help them shortly. But for the moment, my attention and focus turns to the Señora in front of me. I enter her recently constructed home that follows the Chilean government's guidelines for construction of emergency houses and I set to work. I measure, I mark, and I cut the chunks of styrofoam that we are using for insulation. As I continue to measure, mark, and cut again and again, the small home where I am working transforms into a winterwonderland as bits and pieces of styrofoam start floating through the air. I giggle because this missionary snowwoman now has a snowy environment to match her snowwoman attire.
As my team and I finish insulating one tiny home after another, I thank God for the opportunity to be here. I pray that God's love will be with the people of this community and I pray that when the cold, cutting, winter that is just around the corner arrives that these precious people of God will not only be warmed by the home they now have to live in, but that the will be warmed from the inside out because in the name of God, one gringa missionary snowwoman gave what she could to share God's love.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
-Every night I sleep in a room 7x9 feet with 5 other girls (1 German, 2 Bolivians, 1 Brazilian, and 1 rocking chick from the Bahamas)
-I am living in a government office building without heat or running water
-I get a 3 minute shower an average of every 3 days (when one of my new neighbors down the street invites me into their home to use their personal shower)
-Wet wipes are my new best friends
-The daily temperatures here average between 40-60 degrees (slightly different than in Bolivia)
.jpg)
-The past few days I have been working with 100 Chilean Marines- they are incredible. They are working 7 days a week, 12 hours a day, to construct houses for the estimated 6,000 people left homeless in this area because of the earthquake and tsunami destruction-There are shipping containers in the middle of my neighborhood even though it is 1.5 miles from the ocean. The containers were thrust onto land by the tsunami
-I am armed with an incredible pile of medicines and have been distrubting medicine to many in my group
-I am healthy, happy, well, and strong serving under the precious wonderful name of Jesus in the Earthquake- Tsunami zone in Talcahuano, Chile!
-I am living in a government office building without heat or running water
-I get a 3 minute shower an average of every 3 days (when one of my new neighbors down the street invites me into their home to use their personal shower)
-Wet wipes are my new best friends
-The daily temperatures here average between 40-60 degrees (slightly different than in Bolivia)
-The air is cool and damp and frequently holds the horrid odor or rotting fish that were swept ashore and into the streets by the Tsunami
-The streets are strewn with litter, rubble, mud, old shoes, clothing, everything imaginable
-I eat three meals a day in a Salvation Army Shelter (which actually doubles as the living room of a local family, the family has been gracious to loan their space to feed humanitarian aid volunteers)
-My daily food intake normally consists of 5 rolls, some rice, and a potato dish.jpg)
-The past few days I have been working with 100 Chilean Marines- they are incredible. They are working 7 days a week, 12 hours a day, to construct houses for the estimated 6,000 people left homeless in this area because of the earthquake and tsunami destruction-I am armed with an incredible pile of medicines and have been distrubting medicine to many in my group
-I am healthy, happy, well, and strong serving under the precious wonderful name of Jesus in the Earthquake- Tsunami zone in Talcahuano, Chile!
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Bless the Señora
I was busy cleaning the dining room when I heard a shrill buzz…buzz… signaling someone was at the front gate. I looked up from my mopping and glanced out a window that provided me with the perfect vantage point to see the front gate. A dark-skinned woman, that I didn’t recognize, was waiting at the front gate. I looked around to see if anyone else was going to answer the door; it didn’t appear so. I was totally willing to run and open the gate, but I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to say if the woman started speaking Spanish rapidly. I understand a fare amount of Spanish, but if the woman started speaking quickly, I would have no idea what she needed. I waited a few more minutes to see if someone else was going to open the gate, but no one else was moving so I put down my mop and headed toward the front gate. I bound down the front steps and greeted the woman in my best Spanish accent. I said, “good afternoon Señora, how are you?” Pointing and looking up at the huge sign in front of our house, with eyes full of desperation, the Señora asked, “what is YWAM (Youth with a Mission) and do you help young people?” Amazingly, Spanish words flowed freely from my mouth and I explained that YWAM consists of a group of young people and leaders that want to make a difference in the world, we help wherever we can, and we want all people to know there is hope in this dark world and that hope is found in Jesus Christ alone. 
Fast forward 2 months. It is Saturday morning and I am thankful for a break from the rigorous class lecture schedule that we hold Monday- Friday. It is washing day and I am really looking forward to having some clean clothing and bed linen. From my bedroom on the second floor, I hear the shrill buzz…buzz… signaling someone is at the front gate. A few minutes later I hear little kids chattering and giggling… my friends have arrived! I grab my bag of dirty laundry and make my way downstairs to greet the Señora, like I have been doing every Saturday for the past 2 months. Before I finish saying hello to the Señora, I am tackled by two of my favorite people in Bolivia, the Señora’s children. I hand my bag of soiled laundry over to the Señora, who is more than eager to wash my clothing, she has looked for other work, but is struggling to find a job, and she depends on the income she earns from washing my clothes weekly to buy food for her family. We count this week’s worth of my stinky laundry and the Señora announces I need to pay 15 Bolivanos (about $2 USD). I thank the Señora and talk to her while she begins washing my clothing by hand. I learn that she didn’t eat breakfast because she didn’t have even enough food for her kids to eat. I see in the Señora’s face that she is exhausted and not well. I tell her to take a weekend off. I joke that although I am white, I do know how to wash my own clothing. The Señora smiles for a second, but then tears start running down her face. The Señora explains that she won’t be able to feed her children or buy propane if she doesn’t work. Although I rarely encourage free handouts, I love the Señora. She has become my friend and she works so hard, so I offer to give her the money she would have earned for cleaning my clothes and I give her permission to go home and rest. Mustering more strength than I have ever had when I am sick, the Señora declines my offer and insists that she WILL work for her pay. I try to convince the Señora, to rest, lest she becomes even more ill, but there is no changing her mind. I give up the fight and excuse myself as she continues to scrub my clothing. I run into my house where I grab a glass of water and piece of my fruit from my secret supply and I return to the Señora’s side by the washing sink. I put my humble offerings in front of the Señora and I walk away. A few seconds later, I glance over my shoulder and I am content to see the Señora is sipping the water I left for her.
As I walk back toward my house, I review my to-do-list in my head, “I need to finish reading a book, complete a book-report, and create a presentation. I would like to go to the store to buy fruit and milk for the coming week. And I sure would love to have some time to email my friends and family or write a blog or two… so much to do and so little time!” I am almost to the door of my house when I hear my little friends running up behind me. Without hesitation, I decide my homework can wait a few minutes and I dash across the yard chasing my little cappuccino friends. We kick the soccer ball around, I pick my friends up and throw them in the air, we give piggy-back rides, and I tickle them to death, loving the sound of their giggles.
After about 30 minutes of running around, I reluctantly go back inside to do my homework. As I study, I hear laughter echoing in the yard outside my window. My heart is filled with joy. I pray, “God may that laughter continue… may you strengthen the Señora’s family, may the laughter of her children encourage her heart, bless her Lord… bless the Señora that washes my clothes. 
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Please pray: I just received this email from one of my nurse friends on the Africa Mercy...There is no easy way to write this or to soften the words, but Anicette went Home to Jesus today. She came to the ship last weekend severely malnourished and got worse over the next week. She was so sick...probably from the same feeding intolerance she had when she was with us in Benin. You wouldn't have recognized her. I'm sorry... I'm sorry you have to find out like this and that the words are even necessary. Anicette's mom was so upset so please keep her in your prayers. This precious baby was so special to many…
Hearts are broken...Please pray...
Monday, March 29, 2010
Designs by Laura
In my brief moments of spare time here in Bolivia, I have been working on developing new skills and talents. My most recent educational pursuit is fashion and clothing design. Or, maybe it is more correct to say clothing re-design. Take for example the shirt I am wearing in the photo to the right. Before my creativity and scissors hit it, it was merely an old Gecko T-shirt that I received as a hand-me-down over 14 years ago (thank you Zumwalt family). But, just the other day, when I was studying and working on my homework, I had an amazing moment of perspiration, oops, I mean, inspiration, well actually I had both, but you didn’t need to know that. Either way, as I was sweating, I looked up from my notebook and I saw the shiny metal of my scissors from across the room and I was suddenly filled with creativity and the need to revamp the T-shirt I was wearing. I ran into my bedroom and with the snip-snip of my scissors, I chopped off the sleeves of my T-shirt. My friend that was standing nearby took one of the scraps from my shirtsleeves and cut it in half, demonstrating that the scrap could make a lovely headband. I then cut another strip from the sleeve leftovers and proceeded to tie it around the neck hole and arm holes on my shirt, first the right side, then the left. It was perfect. The scraps tied around my shirt made a lovely little embellishment for my newly designed creation. I put on my new shirt and headband and looked in the mirror, “not too bad, if I do say so myself, an old T-shirt, transformed with the snip of my scissors into a new, fashionable, weather appropriate, masterpiece, with matching headband.” My old wardrobe is being transformed weekly and for free! If I get sick of nursing, I may start my own business, “Designs by Laura, fashion at the snip of your scissors!”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)