For those of you who are up on your geography & world news and may have heard about the trouble happening in Mali, the neighboring country
north-west of Guinea, where French troops have come in over the last
few months, please pray…The minor protests and riots we are having in Guinea are nothing like the current unrest in Mali. nor are they related. The trouble in Mali is about 911 kms away from where
I live- even though Guinea & Mali do share a border. Also- don’t trust Googlemaps it says it take 12 hours & 28 mins to
get to Malia…A recent road-trip of mine in Guinea was estimated by Googlemaps to take 3 hours & 9 mins to travel
233 km…It took my friends and me a good 8 hours and that was in a vehicle in
excellent condition (that's another story for another time)…so real trouble is more than 24 hours of travel away…but
nonetheless please pray for God's presence to be in both the situation in Guinea & the situation in Mali...Don't worry or fear for me.. for "I fear not for he is with me"...Isaiah 41:10
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Sunday, February 24, 2013
if you missed it...it isn't too late
In May of 2012- the CBS news- 60 Minutes team- visited my floating home in Lome, Togo. 60 Minutes aired their documentary one week ago today- but if you missed it- don't fear- click the link above & you can catch some of what you missed- plus a few "60 Minutes- Overtime" segments that didn't make the original showing- but are worth watching! Don't strain your eyes too much searching for me in the spot-light- the television team showed up one day after I had already left to go to Guinea to prepare for Mercy Ships' current outreach here...but some of the Ziulkowski's caught some of the action as my mom & dad were aboard volunteering during the time the television crew was aboard...Enjoy & be blessed!
praying for peace in Guinea & answered prayers
As my
translator was reporting to me that he had just finished calling the list of
patients I had asked him to call, our conversation was interrupted by the sound
of the intercom overhead. I held my
breath- knowing that among the few reasons the ship’s intercom system is used-
is for emergency medical team calls. And
even though I have lived in the ship’s environment for over four years now
& we have miraculously few emergencies in our hospital- I still hold my
breath and instinctively start praying as soon as I hear the intercom’s static
erupt through the routine of my daily life aboard the ship.
I
breathed a sigh of relief as I heard “Attention crew- attention crew- this is
the captain speaking.” Thankful there wasn’t a medical emergency in our midst,
my heart calmed and I listened to the captain.
The captain announced that once again because of the growing political
unrest and tension here in Guinea- that he had received word that within the
next day or two there were threats of protests and riots in town. Therefore, there would be “restricted shore
leave, no coming or going, and only mission critical travel-
as approved by the captain alone.” The captain reported he would keep us aware
of changes in the situation and that crew should frequently check The Captain’s
Notice Board- where critical information is communicated.
After
an announcement of that type- some would expect me to feel fear or frustration
over the danger just around the corner or cancellation of planned adventures-
but neither fear or sadness over cancelled adventures to the market or beach
were on my radar- instead- I found myself angry & with a bunch of repeat
phone calls to make….
I
was angry as I reflected on the fact that it does no good to have Mercy Ships in
country- or to be one of the blessed patients that makes it onto our surgery
schedule before it fills up, if patients cannot get to us. My patients don’t need any more resistance in
their fight to get to us…the patients here battle fears we wouldn’t even think
of-they have been told stories of what will happen to them if they go to the
ship- their elders & chiefs remind them of folks the same skin color as me
who not long ago- sailed away with their loved ones on ships- chaining and imprisoning
them, religious fears, threats of being disowned if they come to us, unimaginably
difficult roads to traverse, fear of water, walking for miles and miles,
selling everything one has to get here, these people do not need more challenge
in their lives….now riots, protests, taxi strikes…When is enough…enough???
Battling
my frustration at injustice & the enemy (because I truly believe many of
the struggles we face in this life are not against flesh & blood- Ephesians
6- & the enemy is the one trying to steal, destroy, and disappoint the
people of Guinea) I took a deep breath and looked at my translator and told him
all the patients we had just called to come into the ship had to be called once
again because I wasn’t going to be able to drive with them to the local hospital
(related to the ships’ lockdown) to obtain the CT Scans they have been so
patiently waiting for while Mercy Ships’ CT Scanner has been on the fritz. Bless my humble patients- some of them had
been waiting for more than 4 months for their CT Scans, since Mercy Ship’s CT
Scanner first started having trouble months ago. Some of these precious patients had already
had their appointments for CT Scans with me changed more than 4 times back in
the fall, when we thought our CT Scanner was on the mend. I would schedule
their appointment after receiving the shipment of a few vital bio-medical
components from the USA& Europe only to find we needed more parts and had
to cancel their appointments. Then we would receive more parts for the scanner
and I would call my patients to come in again-trying to give them travel time
considering some of them have to travel more than 2 days to reach me, just to
find out we needed more parts for the machine to be fixed. I asked my translator to call each of the
patients again and to explain that each of them is very important to me and to
Mercy Ships, that we were so sorry for the inconvenience and would call them
again soon to reschedule their appointment and that I would not forget them.
I listened
as my translator spoke to one of my patients on the phone. I interrupted him
and gently asked him to please say exactly what I had asked (my French is
improving rapidly). Although translating
exactly what I say- should be a given in translation, it isn’t…and sometimes
that is good as I have learned that culturally things need to be said
differently- and I have asked my translator to tell me that- not just change
what I say- but other times- what I am asking to be said is just so foreign- my
translator has deemed it not necessary to translate. More frustration mounts in my heart- I truly want
to communicate to my patients how important they are to me- that I am not like
others who have promised them something and never give it, but this is hard to
express when I cannot communicate directly with my patients & up until now-
I haven’t been able to provide tangible evidence that I do care for them and
their needs.
I
pray that somehow my patients will understand they are cared for and loved by
me, Mercy Ships, and far more important than either my love or Mercy Ships’
love, they are loved by God! I ask again
that my translator verbally acknowledges and tells my patients that they are
important to me and I value them. My translator
looks at me with a blank face…At first I feel myself becoming more frustrated,
but then it hits me that maybe my translator has never been told that he is
important or valued…Sobering thought…There are many in this world that have
never been told they are important or valued… if you fall into that category; let
me be the first to tell you…YOU ARE IMPORTANT & VALUED… I try to explain to
my translator the value in being told that you are important and that not only
the physical needs of my patients are important to me- their emotional and
mental frustration mounting with the waves of hope and despair they have felt
over the past few months- waiting for their call to come to the ship, then
being told not to come…matters to me..I know they are seeing the days and
months tick by- with no tangible hope yet received, their tumors are growing
bigger, their pain is increasing, their rejection mounts….I hurt for them and sincerely
want to communicate that I care…Oh- the adventure & challenge to
communicate with language & cultural barriers. To grow up in a world where
you don’t have the basics in life… love, shelter, clothing, clean water, where
no one cares if you are dying, or bleeding to death, of course emotional and
mental health are low on the radar…all learning and teaching moments…
With
the CT Scan patients called- and a whispered prayed for peace in this country-I
set to my next task…With creativity I can hopefully help prevent losing
operating room time- I will not allow the enemy to steal one more bit of hope
from another patient in this country- if I can help it…I pull up the OR
schedule for the next few days and after approving with the ward supervisor
that there were enough bed spaces on the ward
with boarding pre-op patients under the beds if necessary, my translator
and I set to calling in the patients for surgery for the next few days to come
in early to stay on the ward- so that they wouldn’t be prevented from traveling
to the ship if they were caught in riots or protests. A few riots or threats from the enemy won’t
scare me- I am on a mission here- to know, be, & bring the Peace- (brilliant
sermon series by Pastor Warren R) - with all I am; in His strength- I wage
Peace…
What
a day….never a boring moment…tired & exhausted… I went to bed- but not
before praying for peace in Guinea…
The next
morning I awoke and glanced at the Captain’s Notice Board and was pleasantly
surprised that my prayers were answered! The riots and protests were cancelled
for that day because the president of FIFA (the governing body for football/soccer
for the World Cup) decided to visit Guinea that day! And since he was in town,
Joseph “Sepp” Blatter, the FIFA president, decided to stop over for a surprise
visit to my home here. No big deal- and in case it interests you the other day the
ambassador from Saudi Arabia popped in for a visit. And I probably failed to mention it, but in
my time while living on the ship, Princess Anne from England, a few other
African presidents, Miss Belgium, an Australia television crew, a Norwegian
television crew, some German actresses, Nick Vujicic (an evangelist &
motivational speaker who was born without all four limbs), and 60 minutes correspondents,
among many other dignitaries, have just popped in for a visit to my home here
and there-sometimes announced and sometimes un-announced!
After
a mere day, the excitement of the FIFA president’s visit to Guinea disappeared
into the past and the riots & protests were scheduled once again. More changes in patient appointments and
plans... This place I live is ever amazing and never boring. Who would have
thought a nurse must work so hard to just get her patients to the hospital so
she can care for them… After another long day…tired & exhausted… I went to
bed- but not before praying for peace in Guinea… Prayers for peace in Guinea
appreciated!
Monday, December 17, 2012
the out-pouring was more rapid than the filling
The adrenaline rush that I experienced, in anticipation of
the ship’s arrival that kept me up all hours of the night-the week prior to the
ship’s arrival… ran out… The first few weeks the ship arrives in a new country
are always hectic- as Mercy Ships hits operational mode- setting up the
hospital, un-tethering all the equipment that had to be tied down for the ship’s
sail, training new nurses, training
translators, and screening/selecting thousands of patients for surgery. When the ship sailed in, I was hit with
tangible excited, energy of the new crew and those who sailed into Guinea. I was ecstatic to be reunited with my sailing
home. The summer had been intense; a
character building time, a stretching, growing experience, on the front lines
in Guinea and my fatigue was palpable. I mustered every ounce of God’s strength
to perform my job, mirror the excitement of the crew, and find that “first day
of school” excitement which has always been mine when arriving with the ship in
a new country, but to no avail… Instead I felt as if I had a bad case of
“senioritis.” I was exhausted and worse yet, I felt guilty for feeling this
way, which made me feel worse. My body
& mind where in two different places, I was so confused- when I had left
the ship in May for Guinea, the ship was in Togo, I had lived on land in Guinea
for 3.5 months, but when the ship sailed in, I for some reason still expected to
be in Togo. I was looking for my friends that had been a part of the Togo
outreach, but were no longer aboard. I looked for the Togolese translators that
I had worked with and come to love, but they had remained in Togo. I mentally planned “trips to this or that
place, only to remember those places weren’t in Guinea- they were in Togo….and
we weren’t in Togo anymore…but, I knew that…I had been living in Guinea for 3.5
months…” Mass confusion & exhaustion…
The out-pouring was more rapid than the filling…
I struggled to concentrate; I forgot passwords to my email accounts and phone numbers that I have known for years…I tried to form intellectual sentences and conversations, but my words came out in mixed sentences of English, French, and randomly Spanish. I didn’t have the energy to teach new translators and I feared if I was squeezed or stretched in any small manner, personally or professionally, what came out may not be pretty…I feared I may burst into tears at any given moment or that I may verbally vomit, my fatigue on those around me who were energized and full of excitement for what God planned to do in Guinea. I did not want to quench the excitement of others on the ship and I definitely did not want this feeling to be communicated to my patients… so felt I had to shelter others from my fragility…I ate chocolate like I hadn’t had it in 3.5 months (which was not far from the truth), I cried, I ate more chocolate, I cried more, I hugged my friends that still remained on the ship every chance I got, I cried, ate more chocolate (yes, I know it is a bad idea to “eat your feelings”), cried more, and cried more. The out-pouring was more rapid than the filling…
I honestly wanted to write and focus on the positive, of the surgeries that had started, the patients that were walking for the first time, the hope that was being restored….but could not… I tried to muster the strength, energy, and mental capacity to inform all of you of what God was teaching me and doing in Africa, but no words came.... I wanted to write… to be upbeat, make you laugh, touch your heart with stories of the incredible things God has done recently through very difficult situations, and captivate you with a great update & report of my life as a missionary nurse in Africa… but I couldn’t write… Mass confusion & exhaustion… The out-pouring was more rapid than the filling…
I was granted a few days off and sought to travel somewhere- a Western country that would maybe feel like home- a place that I could afford to travel to where there wouldn’t be any jet-lag… God provided a haven for me in Switzerland where a few of my friends, former nurses from the ship were randomly (God ordained) going to be… it would be ideal to spend time with them…they understand the life of a missionary nurse, I wouldn’t have to explain myself to them if I randomly burst into tears in a supermarket, and I could find some fresh air, peace, and rest.
It was pure heaven to be in Switzerland…There were sun-flower fields that reminded me of my birth-place, Kansas. The fields of corn and farm land reminded me of South Dakota, where I spent many months as a child visiting my grandparents, uncle, aunt, and cousins. The mountains reminded me of the Rocky Mountains that trail through Idaho & Canada, where I grew up & studied nursing. The green foliage and quaint villages reminded me of New Hampshire & Vermont. It was magical- I was in so many of my “homes” even though abroad. I slept in, laughed, took walks in the shadows of the Alps, felt the cool, fresh, breeze upon my face, smiled, drank clean water from the tap, ran barefoot in the grass, not fearing transmission of tropical diseases or parasites, I had electricity, fresh produce, long hot showers, and I could walk down the street alone and without being asked to give more of myself. “He made me lie down in green pastures & lead me beside quiet waters…” (Psalm 23:2).
When I got off the plane from Switzerland and walked back into Africa- my eyes again filled with tears and I sobbed. He truly had “led me by quiet waters and let me lie down in green pastures…but my soul was not restored…” My 9 day vacation had not been long enough… I cried more…surrounded by amazing friends and co-workers I took a few more days to decompress…and cried more….I should have written-…but rationalized that it would not be good to needlessly worry you on my behalf…I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me…I wanted to protect you from feeling helpless- not being able to offer me any tangible help with my current situation…
He has a reason for each trial
That we pass through in life
And though we're shaken
We cannot be pulled apart from Christ
No matter how the driving rain beats down
On those who hold to faith
A heart of trust will always
Be a quiet peaceful place
As the literal and figurative waves crashed against my ship/home in Africa & my life, I cried…I was exhausted, still loved my work, the people, the ship/my home abroad, but was exhausted…but “because of God’s great love, I was not consumed, his compassions never fail. They are new every morning, great is His faithfulness. I said to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore, I wait for him” (Lamentations 3: 22-23). I waited on the Lord asking for more strength and a refreshing wind to fall on my spirit, but it wasn’t coming fast enough. The out-pouring was more rapid than the filling…
No fear- …. although “hard pressed, crushed, perplexed, and struck down, I AM NOT DESTROYED” (2 Corinthians 4:8-9)! And although the out-pouring was more rapid than the filling…I am home now for a filling….My filling is for his Glory- & it is my honor to share all I have with you- Africa! I’ll see you in the New Year!
I struggled to concentrate; I forgot passwords to my email accounts and phone numbers that I have known for years…I tried to form intellectual sentences and conversations, but my words came out in mixed sentences of English, French, and randomly Spanish. I didn’t have the energy to teach new translators and I feared if I was squeezed or stretched in any small manner, personally or professionally, what came out may not be pretty…I feared I may burst into tears at any given moment or that I may verbally vomit, my fatigue on those around me who were energized and full of excitement for what God planned to do in Guinea. I did not want to quench the excitement of others on the ship and I definitely did not want this feeling to be communicated to my patients… so felt I had to shelter others from my fragility…I ate chocolate like I hadn’t had it in 3.5 months (which was not far from the truth), I cried, I ate more chocolate, I cried more, I hugged my friends that still remained on the ship every chance I got, I cried, ate more chocolate (yes, I know it is a bad idea to “eat your feelings”), cried more, and cried more. The out-pouring was more rapid than the filling…
I honestly wanted to write and focus on the positive, of the surgeries that had started, the patients that were walking for the first time, the hope that was being restored….but could not… I tried to muster the strength, energy, and mental capacity to inform all of you of what God was teaching me and doing in Africa, but no words came.... I wanted to write… to be upbeat, make you laugh, touch your heart with stories of the incredible things God has done recently through very difficult situations, and captivate you with a great update & report of my life as a missionary nurse in Africa… but I couldn’t write… Mass confusion & exhaustion… The out-pouring was more rapid than the filling…
I was granted a few days off and sought to travel somewhere- a Western country that would maybe feel like home- a place that I could afford to travel to where there wouldn’t be any jet-lag… God provided a haven for me in Switzerland where a few of my friends, former nurses from the ship were randomly (God ordained) going to be… it would be ideal to spend time with them…they understand the life of a missionary nurse, I wouldn’t have to explain myself to them if I randomly burst into tears in a supermarket, and I could find some fresh air, peace, and rest.
It was pure heaven to be in Switzerland…There were sun-flower fields that reminded me of my birth-place, Kansas. The fields of corn and farm land reminded me of South Dakota, where I spent many months as a child visiting my grandparents, uncle, aunt, and cousins. The mountains reminded me of the Rocky Mountains that trail through Idaho & Canada, where I grew up & studied nursing. The green foliage and quaint villages reminded me of New Hampshire & Vermont. It was magical- I was in so many of my “homes” even though abroad. I slept in, laughed, took walks in the shadows of the Alps, felt the cool, fresh, breeze upon my face, smiled, drank clean water from the tap, ran barefoot in the grass, not fearing transmission of tropical diseases or parasites, I had electricity, fresh produce, long hot showers, and I could walk down the street alone and without being asked to give more of myself. “He made me lie down in green pastures & lead me beside quiet waters…” (Psalm 23:2).
When I got off the plane from Switzerland and walked back into Africa- my eyes again filled with tears and I sobbed. He truly had “led me by quiet waters and let me lie down in green pastures…but my soul was not restored…” My 9 day vacation had not been long enough… I cried more…surrounded by amazing friends and co-workers I took a few more days to decompress…and cried more….I should have written-…but rationalized that it would not be good to needlessly worry you on my behalf…I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me…I wanted to protect you from feeling helpless- not being able to offer me any tangible help with my current situation…
“All who
sail the sea of faith
Find out before too long
How quickly blue skies can grow dark
And gentle winds grow strong
Suddenly fear is like white water
Pounding on the soul
Still we sail on knowing
That our Lord is in control
Find out before too long
How quickly blue skies can grow dark
And gentle winds grow strong
Suddenly fear is like white water
Pounding on the soul
Still we sail on knowing
That our Lord is in control
Sometimes He
calms the storm
With a whispered, “peace be still”
He can settle any sea
But it doesn't mean He will
Sometimes He holds us close
And lets the wind and waves go wild
Sometimes He calms the storm
And other times He calms His child
With a whispered, “peace be still”
He can settle any sea
But it doesn't mean He will
Sometimes He holds us close
And lets the wind and waves go wild
Sometimes He calms the storm
And other times He calms His child
He has a reason for each trial
That we pass through in life
And though we're shaken
We cannot be pulled apart from Christ
No matter how the driving rain beats down
On those who hold to faith
A heart of trust will always
Be a quiet peaceful place
Sometimes He
calms the storm
With a whispered, “peace be still”
He can settle any sea
But it doesn't mean He will
Sometimes He holds us close
And lets the wind and waves go wild
Sometimes He calms the storm
And other times He calms His child”
Lyrics to
the Song “Sometimes He Calms the Storm” by Scott KrippayneWith a whispered, “peace be still”
He can settle any sea
But it doesn't mean He will
Sometimes He holds us close
And lets the wind and waves go wild
Sometimes He calms the storm
And other times He calms His child”
As the literal and figurative waves crashed against my ship/home in Africa & my life, I cried…I was exhausted, still loved my work, the people, the ship/my home abroad, but was exhausted…but “because of God’s great love, I was not consumed, his compassions never fail. They are new every morning, great is His faithfulness. I said to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore, I wait for him” (Lamentations 3: 22-23). I waited on the Lord asking for more strength and a refreshing wind to fall on my spirit, but it wasn’t coming fast enough. The out-pouring was more rapid than the filling…
No fear- …. although “hard pressed, crushed, perplexed, and struck down, I AM NOT DESTROYED” (2 Corinthians 4:8-9)! And although the out-pouring was more rapid than the filling…I am home now for a filling….My filling is for his Glory- & it is my honor to share all I have with you- Africa! I’ll see you in the New Year!
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
prayers were answered
 |
| The 15 hour day was worth it! I would do it all over again....for them! Surgeries start Thursday!!! |
Sunday, September 2, 2012
pray for screening day
SCREENING DAY IS TOMORROW! PRAY! PRAY! PRAY!
Tomorrow will be a long day- but many have waited far longer for the hope & healing that may finally be theirs with Mercy Ships presence in Guinea. We are expecting thousands of people/patients to show up tomorrow- to our main screening day & pray for safety, no rain, and God’s blessings to be with Mercy Ships’ crew as we aim to be the face of love in action, to all those we will meet tomorrow. Pray for those who have lived in fear and have been afraid to show their faces to society. Pray….Pray…Pray….
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
more excitement than on christmas eve
100’s of meetings have taken place over the past few months. A registration process for Mercy Ships’ dentists, nurses, and doctors has been agreed upon. Legal surgical consent age has been discovered. An oxygen supplier has been located incase of failure with the ships’ supply of oxygen to the wards. Pharmacy import licenses have been obtained and Mercy Ships “should” now have no trouble with customs to import the drugs needed for Mercy Ships’ patients. A local pharmacy that appears to be reliable has been found and agreed to sell Mercy Ships medicines if something goes wrong with our import of pharmaceuticals. The pharmacy appears to have a constant supply of Levothyroxine (Thyroid medication) required after removal of goiters, so thyroid surgeries can be performed on the ship this year. Local Tuberculosis and HIV clinics have been located if patients come to Mercy Ships needing treatment (considering we are a surgical ship, not a clinic providing primary health care services, but we are happy to refer patients to available resources in their own neighborhood that they may not be aware of). Local surgeons and doctors have been met with; Mercy Ships has taken their partnership requests and is seeing where we can learn from each other. Ways for collaboration with local hospitals and medical staff have been sought. Surgeon training and anesthetist training experiences are being organized. Permission to use the ship’s incinerator to burn Mercy Ships’ medical waste has been granted.
We have a place to “park” our ship for 10 months. The ship should be supplied with water on a regular basis. We have contracted with a security team to keep us safe in the port. Over 24 Mercy Ships’ land-rovers should be registered in Guinea so we can freely drive around the city. Customs procedures “should” be ironed out so that our frozen containers of food from Holland and medical supply containers from the USA should be given to us without delay when they arrive. Over 200 local day volunteers have been interviewed for translation skills, tested for TB, and given initial training for volunteering/working alongside Mercy Ships crew over the next 10 months and assigned to various departments on the ship.
A site off- ship has been located for Mercy Ships’ Dental Clinic. Half of the building that was not in use because of its condition was renovated with the promise that it will be borrowed and returned to the clinic after Mercy Ships’ departure from Guinea. The site now has working electricity and water. Denture makers have been found so that Mercy Ships dental team can contract for making about 500 prosthetic teeth, implants, dentures for some of the patients Mercy Ships will treat needing tooth extractions. Emergency medical evacuation procedures have been discovered in case Mercy Ships’ crew members needs those services. A few sites around the city have been identified and the site directors have agreed to let Mercy Ships’ Eye Team hold mini- selection days throughout their stay in country in their buildings free of charge. Security reports about the sites have been written and turned into Mercy Ships’ Security Team for approval because at times over 1,000 people have shown up to Mercy Ships’ eye screenings, looking for help, so security is paramount. Prosthetic eye makers and glasses grinders have been found. A ward in a local hospital, not far from the port, has been renovated and loaned to Mercy Ships so that they can provide off-ship housing for 40 patients from the interior that come to Conakry seeking treatment from Mercy Ships. Since many of these patients will travel days to reach the ship, the commute isn’t realistic for them when they need to come back and forth from the ship for weekly post-operative checks, so they now have a place to stay, a “Bed & Breakfast” of sorts. After the ship departs, the hospital gets their newly improved medical wing back! Prosthetistis and Orthotists have attempted to be located so that Mercy Ships’ orthopedic patients can obtain braces, splints, and such after club foot surgeries and correction of certain bone deformities.
VVF surgeries have been discussed with Engender Health and USAID (NGO’s that provide funding for helping women with fistulas). A list of over 113 women currently living with fistulas too difficult for local Guinean surgeons to treat has been presented to Mercy Ships and Mercy Ships is seeking ways to assess as many of these women as possible to operate on them. The concept of Palliative care has been presented to multiple doctors and NGO’s with little response or knowledge of “hospice” or “home-healthcare” being found; identifying a knowledge gap and teaching opportunities for Mercy Ships’ Palliative Care Team. A morgue has been identified and “rough” price estimates have almost been obtained if the unfortunate situation arises in which Mercy Ships needs local morgue services.
The 1,200 volunteer crew members, from over 36 different countries around the world, who make their way to Guinea in the 10 months the Africa Mercy is parked here, have been granted free visas and “should” be able to enter the country with their luggage and without being hassled for bribes at the airport. The local police “should” be starting to understand that those driving Mercy Ships’ land rovers around town do not pay bribes, will not put up with corruption, and stand for integrity, if they are guilty of a real traffic violation they pay, but if they are being hassled and detained for money, they will not pay (multiple personal experiences have lent to achieving this goal). Government officials, customs officers, and port workers “should” be starting to understand that Mercy Ships does business differently, striving to be people of integrity, no matter what, no matter how many times, they have to visit the same office, or put in the same request for an item, they will not pay into the cycle of corruption that brings one to the front of the line.
A farm has been identified where Mercy Ships’ “Food for Life” project can work; a project aimed at increasing food security for Guinea and teaches local farmers organic agriculture skills in nutrition and crop production. Missionaries living in the interior have been met, what Mercy Ships can and cannot do has been explained so that hopefully Mercy Ships will be connected with patients they can help and others know who to refer to Mercy Ships. Peace Corp volunteers have been briefed about Mercy Ships and emails from them are flying in with potential patient information. Orphanages, prisons, schools, and NGOs have been found to see if Mercy Ships crew can volunteer their time with them and help in any manner while the ship is in town for 10 months. Press releases have been written, and a huge convention center has been granted to Mercy Ships to use for free for their main screening day that is just around the corner! Much more has been done, but at this point it is minor because the culmination of the last 3.5 months of work will come together tomorrow as the Africa Mercy sails into Conakry, Guinea! The excitement in my heart is more than that on Christmas Eve! The past 3.5 months have not been easy, challenges have been faced, tears have been shed, I have learned much about my character and undergone some “character formation school” (something prone to happen when living with such a multi-cultural team full of “leader” personalities in such a small space), and I have made it to this point…
Father God, it was in your strength alone that what has been done has been done! As my ship, my home, sails in, may there be a tangible sense falling on this country, that something great is about to happen and may your kingdom and grace pour down on Guinea as hope and healing are unleashed!
We have a place to “park” our ship for 10 months. The ship should be supplied with water on a regular basis. We have contracted with a security team to keep us safe in the port. Over 24 Mercy Ships’ land-rovers should be registered in Guinea so we can freely drive around the city. Customs procedures “should” be ironed out so that our frozen containers of food from Holland and medical supply containers from the USA should be given to us without delay when they arrive. Over 200 local day volunteers have been interviewed for translation skills, tested for TB, and given initial training for volunteering/working alongside Mercy Ships crew over the next 10 months and assigned to various departments on the ship.
A site off- ship has been located for Mercy Ships’ Dental Clinic. Half of the building that was not in use because of its condition was renovated with the promise that it will be borrowed and returned to the clinic after Mercy Ships’ departure from Guinea. The site now has working electricity and water. Denture makers have been found so that Mercy Ships dental team can contract for making about 500 prosthetic teeth, implants, dentures for some of the patients Mercy Ships will treat needing tooth extractions. Emergency medical evacuation procedures have been discovered in case Mercy Ships’ crew members needs those services. A few sites around the city have been identified and the site directors have agreed to let Mercy Ships’ Eye Team hold mini- selection days throughout their stay in country in their buildings free of charge. Security reports about the sites have been written and turned into Mercy Ships’ Security Team for approval because at times over 1,000 people have shown up to Mercy Ships’ eye screenings, looking for help, so security is paramount. Prosthetic eye makers and glasses grinders have been found. A ward in a local hospital, not far from the port, has been renovated and loaned to Mercy Ships so that they can provide off-ship housing for 40 patients from the interior that come to Conakry seeking treatment from Mercy Ships. Since many of these patients will travel days to reach the ship, the commute isn’t realistic for them when they need to come back and forth from the ship for weekly post-operative checks, so they now have a place to stay, a “Bed & Breakfast” of sorts. After the ship departs, the hospital gets their newly improved medical wing back! Prosthetistis and Orthotists have attempted to be located so that Mercy Ships’ orthopedic patients can obtain braces, splints, and such after club foot surgeries and correction of certain bone deformities.
VVF surgeries have been discussed with Engender Health and USAID (NGO’s that provide funding for helping women with fistulas). A list of over 113 women currently living with fistulas too difficult for local Guinean surgeons to treat has been presented to Mercy Ships and Mercy Ships is seeking ways to assess as many of these women as possible to operate on them. The concept of Palliative care has been presented to multiple doctors and NGO’s with little response or knowledge of “hospice” or “home-healthcare” being found; identifying a knowledge gap and teaching opportunities for Mercy Ships’ Palliative Care Team. A morgue has been identified and “rough” price estimates have almost been obtained if the unfortunate situation arises in which Mercy Ships needs local morgue services.
The 1,200 volunteer crew members, from over 36 different countries around the world, who make their way to Guinea in the 10 months the Africa Mercy is parked here, have been granted free visas and “should” be able to enter the country with their luggage and without being hassled for bribes at the airport. The local police “should” be starting to understand that those driving Mercy Ships’ land rovers around town do not pay bribes, will not put up with corruption, and stand for integrity, if they are guilty of a real traffic violation they pay, but if they are being hassled and detained for money, they will not pay (multiple personal experiences have lent to achieving this goal). Government officials, customs officers, and port workers “should” be starting to understand that Mercy Ships does business differently, striving to be people of integrity, no matter what, no matter how many times, they have to visit the same office, or put in the same request for an item, they will not pay into the cycle of corruption that brings one to the front of the line.
A farm has been identified where Mercy Ships’ “Food for Life” project can work; a project aimed at increasing food security for Guinea and teaches local farmers organic agriculture skills in nutrition and crop production. Missionaries living in the interior have been met, what Mercy Ships can and cannot do has been explained so that hopefully Mercy Ships will be connected with patients they can help and others know who to refer to Mercy Ships. Peace Corp volunteers have been briefed about Mercy Ships and emails from them are flying in with potential patient information. Orphanages, prisons, schools, and NGOs have been found to see if Mercy Ships crew can volunteer their time with them and help in any manner while the ship is in town for 10 months. Press releases have been written, and a huge convention center has been granted to Mercy Ships to use for free for their main screening day that is just around the corner! Much more has been done, but at this point it is minor because the culmination of the last 3.5 months of work will come together tomorrow as the Africa Mercy sails into Conakry, Guinea! The excitement in my heart is more than that on Christmas Eve! The past 3.5 months have not been easy, challenges have been faced, tears have been shed, I have learned much about my character and undergone some “character formation school” (something prone to happen when living with such a multi-cultural team full of “leader” personalities in such a small space), and I have made it to this point…
Father God, it was in your strength alone that what has been done has been done! As my ship, my home, sails in, may there be a tangible sense falling on this country, that something great is about to happen and may your kingdom and grace pour down on Guinea as hope and healing are unleashed!
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
it is raining goats & chickens
In America when it is raining very hard, we sometimes say, “it is raining cats & dogs.” But what does one say when they live in Africa and it has been raining for almost 2.5 months straight??? “It is raining goats & chickens”??? Oh, who really cares anyway…but now that we are on the topic of rain…It has been raining here in Guinea almost every day for the past 2.5 months! It has been a new adventure experiencing rainy season this way…normally I am on the ship…floating in the water…and the rain doesn’t really influence my commute to work…or my life….but oh, the adventures rain can bring…
*****Laundry is almost impossible to get dry. My team and I hang our clothing outside at any glimmer of blue sky. Almost as soon as the laundry is hung, torrential rains coming pouring down. We rush to move our laundry in-doors and drape it over every stool, chair, and raised surface in the house; we have even resorted to laying it on the cool tile floor. We point the few fans we have at the clothing and hope for the best. Then the power goes out, forget the fan idea, we are left with wet clothing hanging in the humid air. As the day goes on, the less than sweet aroma of “wet dog” begins to fill the air! Oh- bless! My once excited feeling over freshly washed clothing has disappeared. I sniff each article of clothing before I put it on and decided if perfume will cover-up the smell or not…what fun! It is all about perspective….Once upon a time, a shirt was deemed only fit for the laundry pile if it smelt of body odor or was visibly soiled, not any more… Now that same BO engulfed shirt smells like heaven compared to the lingering smell of “wet dog!” The only question that remains is to wash the clothing or not was the clothing…lately I have been going with the latter.
*****With rain being our constant companion, my team and I have come to only one conclusion…no point complaining about it….play in it! I mostly definitely was caught the other night outside my house here around 10:00pm dressed in swimming shorts, an old t-shirt, and rain boots, jumping in the puddles in the street while getting a refreshing shower from the heavens. My buddy and I stood waiting by the biggest puddles in the street waiting for cars to come by and splash the daylights out of us! We were sorely disappointed that only one car took us up on the offer to splash us! We were hoping people wouldn’t see us near the puddles and would keep driving at full speed and spray us with a wall of water, but we figured out we don’t blend in to the dark very well considering “we glow in the dark” as one of my African friends told me, when talking about my flaxen skin tone. We did get drenched & had a wild good time in the process! Maybe not the brightest idea in the book…but too late now…Dear Jesus, please forgive my moment lapse of judgment as I was just looking for some clean good fun…and I forgot the puddles I was jumping and splashing around in might have been sewage laden…
*****A day at the swimming pool is always fun! And why should one avoid the pool if it is raining, you get wet in the pool anyway, so what’s a little more water? If there isn’t lightening, why not have a really good, wet time? The other day we put that exact philosophy to practice. I took the role of camera woman as my two of my team members jumped into the pool in the pouring rain, in their swim suits, and rain boots just to for a fashion statement. Rain boots are supposed to get wet…so why not jump in a swimming pool with them? We laughed and laughed as they attempted to do handstands in the pool with boots on their feet, as soon as they got their feet up in the air, water would coming pouring out of the boot and knock them over.
*****And finally, back to those puddles again…some of the puddles in the street have been knee deep. The local cars and taxis struggle to traverse around the city when the rain persists. I on the other hand….am blessed to drive a brand-new land-rover that was donated to Mercy Ships and shipped here for my team’s use. I had some fun driving like wild through some awesome, deep puddles in town the other day. One of the puddles was so fantastic; my friend got out, sacrificed herself to the rains, and took photos of me driving through the muddy ocean…
*****Oh-what fun and adventures rainy season in Africa can bring... “I bless the rains down in Africa…I bless the rains down in Africa…Africa, “it’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you…there’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do…I bless the rains down in Africa… I bless the rains down in Africa…”
*****Laundry is almost impossible to get dry. My team and I hang our clothing outside at any glimmer of blue sky. Almost as soon as the laundry is hung, torrential rains coming pouring down. We rush to move our laundry in-doors and drape it over every stool, chair, and raised surface in the house; we have even resorted to laying it on the cool tile floor. We point the few fans we have at the clothing and hope for the best. Then the power goes out, forget the fan idea, we are left with wet clothing hanging in the humid air. As the day goes on, the less than sweet aroma of “wet dog” begins to fill the air! Oh- bless! My once excited feeling over freshly washed clothing has disappeared. I sniff each article of clothing before I put it on and decided if perfume will cover-up the smell or not…what fun! It is all about perspective….Once upon a time, a shirt was deemed only fit for the laundry pile if it smelt of body odor or was visibly soiled, not any more… Now that same BO engulfed shirt smells like heaven compared to the lingering smell of “wet dog!” The only question that remains is to wash the clothing or not was the clothing…lately I have been going with the latter.
*****With rain being our constant companion, my team and I have come to only one conclusion…no point complaining about it….play in it! I mostly definitely was caught the other night outside my house here around 10:00pm dressed in swimming shorts, an old t-shirt, and rain boots, jumping in the puddles in the street while getting a refreshing shower from the heavens. My buddy and I stood waiting by the biggest puddles in the street waiting for cars to come by and splash the daylights out of us! We were sorely disappointed that only one car took us up on the offer to splash us! We were hoping people wouldn’t see us near the puddles and would keep driving at full speed and spray us with a wall of water, but we figured out we don’t blend in to the dark very well considering “we glow in the dark” as one of my African friends told me, when talking about my flaxen skin tone. We did get drenched & had a wild good time in the process! Maybe not the brightest idea in the book…but too late now…Dear Jesus, please forgive my moment lapse of judgment as I was just looking for some clean good fun…and I forgot the puddles I was jumping and splashing around in might have been sewage laden…
*****A day at the swimming pool is always fun! And why should one avoid the pool if it is raining, you get wet in the pool anyway, so what’s a little more water? If there isn’t lightening, why not have a really good, wet time? The other day we put that exact philosophy to practice. I took the role of camera woman as my two of my team members jumped into the pool in the pouring rain, in their swim suits, and rain boots just to for a fashion statement. Rain boots are supposed to get wet…so why not jump in a swimming pool with them? We laughed and laughed as they attempted to do handstands in the pool with boots on their feet, as soon as they got their feet up in the air, water would coming pouring out of the boot and knock them over.
*****And finally, back to those puddles again…some of the puddles in the street have been knee deep. The local cars and taxis struggle to traverse around the city when the rain persists. I on the other hand….am blessed to drive a brand-new land-rover that was donated to Mercy Ships and shipped here for my team’s use. I had some fun driving like wild through some awesome, deep puddles in town the other day. One of the puddles was so fantastic; my friend got out, sacrificed herself to the rains, and took photos of me driving through the muddy ocean…
*****Oh-what fun and adventures rainy season in Africa can bring... “I bless the rains down in Africa…I bless the rains down in Africa…Africa, “it’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you…there’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do…I bless the rains down in Africa… I bless the rains down in Africa…”
Monday, August 20, 2012
"it's me...it's me...it's me...oh, Lord- standing in the need of prayer"
I approached the secured compound surrounded by huge concrete walls lined with razor wire. After passing security checks I was allowed to drive into the compound. I got out of my car and prayed for safety as I approached the second check-point leading into the entrance of the prison. It was there that I was met by a lawyer, whose number had been given to me by the German Ambassador’s wife, this lawyer had been volunteering in the prison for over 15 years, and he had agreed to introduce me to the prison captain, take me on a tour of the prison, and help me suggest to the prison that a hospital ship is coming to town and the volunteers on that ship are interested in visiting the prisoners.
After brief introductions to the prison guards and captain, I followed the lawyer to where he and local Catholic priests hold weekly mass for some of the men in prison. I was ushered into a structure in the center of the prison where multiple benches, filled with men, were sitting under a metal roof, canopy of sorts. There had to be at least 120 men seated for the service. I was led to the front of the room and given a real wooden chair to sit in, “a chair of honor” as is very common in Africa whenever a foreigner or white person attends a service or meeting. Everyone else in the room had benches to sit on; my colleague and I were the only ones with a “real” chair. I sat down and tried not to be a distraction because the service had already started, but it was almost impossible not to be a distraction when I was one of the only females in the room and my skin is so white it can blind someone.
I sat and quietly listened to echoes of deep baritone voices singing beautiful worship songs in tribal languages. After the signing finished, scriptures were read and the priest preached a sermon on Moses and the slavery and captivity of the Israelites. The prisoners listened attentively and there was a divine sense of peacefulness under that metal structure. I was impressed with the advancement of my French language skills as I could basically tell what was being said without translation. The priest talked for awhile and my mind drifted in and out of the room something I find still happens easily when I don’t actively and intently try to focus on the French being spoken.
I looked around the room and wondered what had brought the men to the prison, what they were feeling, what they were thinking, how long had they been there, if they had been to court, and what they were serving sentences for. I felt no fear, I only felt for them. Some of the men had probably committed heinous crimes… My heart, mind, and feelings were divided as I felt some of the men probably deserved to “rot” in prison because justice and I are close friends….but there is grace and I am in need of it no less than others… but at the same time my God is just too and stands for justice… But, I couldn’t help but hurt for the prisoners. 1200 men, women, and minors, living in a space built for 400 and the reality in Africa and not Africa alone is many people are often imprisoned and they have committed not offense nor been given the chance to defend themselves or have legal representation to plead their case. They are jailed and forgotten.
The next portion of the service included communion and more singing. I stood with the incarcerated and prayed for justice…for peace…and for God to make sense of all I was seeing and experiencing. I was pulled out of my prayers and ushered back into reality when I recognized some familiar words being sung….at first I thought the words were being sung in French and I was just understanding every word that was being said, but no, the prisoners were actually singing in English. I heard the group united in chorus singing, “It’s me… it’s me…it’s me…oh, Lord…standing in the need of prayer…it’s me… it’s me…it’s me… oh, Lord, standing in the need of prayer…”I sang my heart out with the prisoners.
The closing statements of the service were being said and I was asked if I wanted to address the prisoners. With a frightened look on my face, I told my translator, “no, no way,” I didn’t want to speak…What could I possibly say to so many who lived in cramped quarters, who only receive one small portion of cooked rice and a tiny breakfast, which is a recent improvement, the small bit of rice used to be the only meal? What could I say to those who were of the 144 minors living in a room maybe 25 meters x 25 meters sharing maybe 15 beds and two toilets? My heart was heavy, what could I say? I decided in that moment my presence would have to speak for me…my mere human words could not be formed into anything that would have mattered at that moment. I felt ashamed that I had nothing to say…but I couldn’t change that, I was speechless…
After the service, my translator was approached by a few people; they reached for his hand, longing for interaction with someone “from the outside.” He couldn’t believe it when he turned in response to tap after tap on his shoulders and was greeted by at least 5 people he knew, but hadn’t seen for a long time. He hadn’t known they were in prison. My translator scribbled down phone numbers that they gave him and I believe he was taking pleas to not be forgotten and to greet family members. I looked all those in the eyes that approached my translator and I shook hands with them saying in my poor French accent, “courage, courage…” What can one say???
I toured cramped room after cramped room, only the minors and the women in the prison shared beds, the rest of the approximated 900 imprisoned men slept on the floor; some on thin mattresses, some only on sheets, living with maybe 75 people crammed in a 10 meter x 15 meter sized room. Some of the doors were locked on such cells and I saw only hands reaching out the bars that were at the very top of the door, reaching for something, grasping for anything….hope deterred…
The guards in the different wings of the ward all stared at me. I greeted them and smiled… They just stared…The lawyer I was with introduced me to a few detainees and I could tell he was discussing legal matters with them and updating them briefly on the status of their situation. I shook hands with a gentleman, a prisoner, dressed in a leisure suit.
After we left his presence and moved to a different part of the prison, my translator looked at me with the look of a “deer caught in headlights” and said, “that man… the one you just shook hands with…I recognize him from the news… he led the attempted assassination on our president not long ago…”
When I reached yet another part of the prison compound I saw another white women chatting with a detainee. A badge on her shirt read “Geneva Convention.” The Geneva Convention and its articles is the cornerstone of international humanitarian law, protecting those in war zones or caught in the nature of war even if it has not officially been declared. Ensuring…
“Persons taking no active part in hostilities, including military persons who have ceased to be active as a result of sickness, injury, or detention, should be treated humanely and that the following acts are prohibited:
* violence to life and person, in particular murder of all kinds, mutilation, cruel treatment and torture;
* taking of hostages;
* outrages upon personal dignity, in particular humiliating and degrading treatment; and
* the passing of sentences and the carrying out of executions without previous judgment pronounced by a regularly constituted court, affording all the judicial guarantees which are recognized as indispensable by civilized peoples.”
Although Guinea has never declared official war, this country has been laden with military coups after coups, rebellion, unrest, and is also a home to many refugees from its neighboring countries of Sierra Leone and Liberia. I recognized Liberian English and Krio, the languages of Liberia and Sierra Leone being spoken amongst some of the prisoners. No doubt they felt in limbo being imprisoned a country that is not their own. I prayed…for what exactly….I don’t even know…but I prayed…
I finished the tour of the entire prison. I thanked the prison captain for letting me visit and told him Mercy Ships would be in contact with him after showing him pictures of what Mercy Ships does, he pleaded with me that the prisoners not be forgotten by the Ship. I received an open invitation for Mercy Ships to hold any program they desired for the prisoners. I walked past the first guards I had meet and stepped back into the “free” world. I looked behind me to ensure my translator had come with me and noticed he continued to have the look of a “deer caught in headlights look.” He only said, “It is a different world in there.”
As we drove out of the prison, my translator said nothing more, but I am almost positive I saw tears coming down his face. I don’t know what he was thinking or experiencing…it is very likely many of those he had encountered that he knew had committed no offense…We neared the house I am living in and I asked him if he was okay…he just asked me not to say anything and said he was very sorry, but couldn’t work anymore for the day…I assured him our work was done for the day and that he could tell me anything he wanted to or didn’t have to saying anything at all…he quietly left with the “deer in headlights look” still plastered on his face.
Once back inside my current home, I pulled aside my good friend and teammate and we took time to pray…we sat in silence before God for awhile…we prayed for my translator…. I cried… and we prayed for all the prisoners…we prayed for justice in the world…I cried…and we prayed that if the day ever comes when we are jailed or face the threat of jail versus denying faith that we will have the strength to stand…I cried…and we prayed…I cried….and we prayed…and the echoes of the prisoners song rang through my head…. “It’s me…it’s me… it’s me…oh, Lord….standing in the need of prayer….it’s me…it’s me… it’s me…oh, Lord….standing in the need of prayer…”
After brief introductions to the prison guards and captain, I followed the lawyer to where he and local Catholic priests hold weekly mass for some of the men in prison. I was ushered into a structure in the center of the prison where multiple benches, filled with men, were sitting under a metal roof, canopy of sorts. There had to be at least 120 men seated for the service. I was led to the front of the room and given a real wooden chair to sit in, “a chair of honor” as is very common in Africa whenever a foreigner or white person attends a service or meeting. Everyone else in the room had benches to sit on; my colleague and I were the only ones with a “real” chair. I sat down and tried not to be a distraction because the service had already started, but it was almost impossible not to be a distraction when I was one of the only females in the room and my skin is so white it can blind someone.
I sat and quietly listened to echoes of deep baritone voices singing beautiful worship songs in tribal languages. After the signing finished, scriptures were read and the priest preached a sermon on Moses and the slavery and captivity of the Israelites. The prisoners listened attentively and there was a divine sense of peacefulness under that metal structure. I was impressed with the advancement of my French language skills as I could basically tell what was being said without translation. The priest talked for awhile and my mind drifted in and out of the room something I find still happens easily when I don’t actively and intently try to focus on the French being spoken.
I looked around the room and wondered what had brought the men to the prison, what they were feeling, what they were thinking, how long had they been there, if they had been to court, and what they were serving sentences for. I felt no fear, I only felt for them. Some of the men had probably committed heinous crimes… My heart, mind, and feelings were divided as I felt some of the men probably deserved to “rot” in prison because justice and I are close friends….but there is grace and I am in need of it no less than others… but at the same time my God is just too and stands for justice… But, I couldn’t help but hurt for the prisoners. 1200 men, women, and minors, living in a space built for 400 and the reality in Africa and not Africa alone is many people are often imprisoned and they have committed not offense nor been given the chance to defend themselves or have legal representation to plead their case. They are jailed and forgotten.
The next portion of the service included communion and more singing. I stood with the incarcerated and prayed for justice…for peace…and for God to make sense of all I was seeing and experiencing. I was pulled out of my prayers and ushered back into reality when I recognized some familiar words being sung….at first I thought the words were being sung in French and I was just understanding every word that was being said, but no, the prisoners were actually singing in English. I heard the group united in chorus singing, “It’s me… it’s me…it’s me…oh, Lord…standing in the need of prayer…it’s me… it’s me…it’s me… oh, Lord, standing in the need of prayer…”I sang my heart out with the prisoners.
The closing statements of the service were being said and I was asked if I wanted to address the prisoners. With a frightened look on my face, I told my translator, “no, no way,” I didn’t want to speak…What could I possibly say to so many who lived in cramped quarters, who only receive one small portion of cooked rice and a tiny breakfast, which is a recent improvement, the small bit of rice used to be the only meal? What could I say to those who were of the 144 minors living in a room maybe 25 meters x 25 meters sharing maybe 15 beds and two toilets? My heart was heavy, what could I say? I decided in that moment my presence would have to speak for me…my mere human words could not be formed into anything that would have mattered at that moment. I felt ashamed that I had nothing to say…but I couldn’t change that, I was speechless…
After the service, my translator was approached by a few people; they reached for his hand, longing for interaction with someone “from the outside.” He couldn’t believe it when he turned in response to tap after tap on his shoulders and was greeted by at least 5 people he knew, but hadn’t seen for a long time. He hadn’t known they were in prison. My translator scribbled down phone numbers that they gave him and I believe he was taking pleas to not be forgotten and to greet family members. I looked all those in the eyes that approached my translator and I shook hands with them saying in my poor French accent, “courage, courage…” What can one say???
I toured cramped room after cramped room, only the minors and the women in the prison shared beds, the rest of the approximated 900 imprisoned men slept on the floor; some on thin mattresses, some only on sheets, living with maybe 75 people crammed in a 10 meter x 15 meter sized room. Some of the doors were locked on such cells and I saw only hands reaching out the bars that were at the very top of the door, reaching for something, grasping for anything….hope deterred…
The guards in the different wings of the ward all stared at me. I greeted them and smiled… They just stared…The lawyer I was with introduced me to a few detainees and I could tell he was discussing legal matters with them and updating them briefly on the status of their situation. I shook hands with a gentleman, a prisoner, dressed in a leisure suit.
After we left his presence and moved to a different part of the prison, my translator looked at me with the look of a “deer caught in headlights” and said, “that man… the one you just shook hands with…I recognize him from the news… he led the attempted assassination on our president not long ago…”
When I reached yet another part of the prison compound I saw another white women chatting with a detainee. A badge on her shirt read “Geneva Convention.” The Geneva Convention and its articles is the cornerstone of international humanitarian law, protecting those in war zones or caught in the nature of war even if it has not officially been declared. Ensuring…
“Persons taking no active part in hostilities, including military persons who have ceased to be active as a result of sickness, injury, or detention, should be treated humanely and that the following acts are prohibited:
* violence to life and person, in particular murder of all kinds, mutilation, cruel treatment and torture;
* taking of hostages;
* outrages upon personal dignity, in particular humiliating and degrading treatment; and
* the passing of sentences and the carrying out of executions without previous judgment pronounced by a regularly constituted court, affording all the judicial guarantees which are recognized as indispensable by civilized peoples.”
Although Guinea has never declared official war, this country has been laden with military coups after coups, rebellion, unrest, and is also a home to many refugees from its neighboring countries of Sierra Leone and Liberia. I recognized Liberian English and Krio, the languages of Liberia and Sierra Leone being spoken amongst some of the prisoners. No doubt they felt in limbo being imprisoned a country that is not their own. I prayed…for what exactly….I don’t even know…but I prayed…
I finished the tour of the entire prison. I thanked the prison captain for letting me visit and told him Mercy Ships would be in contact with him after showing him pictures of what Mercy Ships does, he pleaded with me that the prisoners not be forgotten by the Ship. I received an open invitation for Mercy Ships to hold any program they desired for the prisoners. I walked past the first guards I had meet and stepped back into the “free” world. I looked behind me to ensure my translator had come with me and noticed he continued to have the look of a “deer caught in headlights look.” He only said, “It is a different world in there.”
As we drove out of the prison, my translator said nothing more, but I am almost positive I saw tears coming down his face. I don’t know what he was thinking or experiencing…it is very likely many of those he had encountered that he knew had committed no offense…We neared the house I am living in and I asked him if he was okay…he just asked me not to say anything and said he was very sorry, but couldn’t work anymore for the day…I assured him our work was done for the day and that he could tell me anything he wanted to or didn’t have to saying anything at all…he quietly left with the “deer in headlights look” still plastered on his face.
Once back inside my current home, I pulled aside my good friend and teammate and we took time to pray…we sat in silence before God for awhile…we prayed for my translator…. I cried… and we prayed for all the prisoners…we prayed for justice in the world…I cried…and we prayed that if the day ever comes when we are jailed or face the threat of jail versus denying faith that we will have the strength to stand…I cried…and we prayed…I cried….and we prayed…and the echoes of the prisoners song rang through my head…. “It’s me…it’s me… it’s me…oh, Lord….standing in the need of prayer….it’s me…it’s me… it’s me…oh, Lord….standing in the need of prayer…”
Sunday, August 19, 2012
blessings in "crappy" situations
An article on mayoclinic.com/health/cholera suggests the last major outbreak of cholera in the United States occurred in 1911… Cholera, a bacterial disease usually spread by contaminated water often leads to severe, rapid, dehydration related to diarrhea that can cause one to toilet up to (as much as a quart or .95 liters and hour). In my tropical disease course in London, I learned that NO ONE EVER needs to die from cholera, even in the most remote areas of the world, if those who have the disease are given enough fluids and a simple, easy to make rehydration solution; NO ONE EVER needs to die from cholera.
My instructor talked about a cholera camp she worked at in Ethiopia a few years back. There were thousands of people infected with the bacteria, her team dug a pit for the waste a fair distance from the camp, and worked non-stop to keep the spread of infection down. Just when the staff thought they were getting on top of the outbreak, the heavens unleashed gallons of rain and the sewage pit that had been dug, flooded the camp. The patients were literally lying in crap and the nurses were wading through it to treat the patients, but because the medical team ensured clean water and simple rehydration salts were given to all the patients, no one, no matter how young, old, or mal-nourished, died…NO ONE EVER needs to die from cholera…
A disease that was last in outbreak stage more than 100 years ago in the USA has been raging through Guinea and since February of this year, 1463 cases of cholera and 50 deaths were reported in the area surrounding Conakry, Guinea! With rainy season and the almost non-existent sewage system here (observed once again today by one of my co-workers when she happened to be at one of the hospitals in town where Mercy Ships is doing some renovations. She observed a few “plumbers” taking care of the sewage at the hospital, by pulling bucket after bucket of human waste, out of the ground, in buckets, like one would use to get water out of a well. The waste was then poured into another bucket, and carried by another man to a truck. None of the workers had gloves on or any protective clothing, or masks) the waterborne disease is on the rise.
Doctors without Borders or Médecins sans Frontières (MSF) has a white, emergency treatment, outbreak, tent set up at the local hospital that is just down the road from where I am living. I have only ever seen those types of tents in news reports on refugee situations around the world, or in movies, not in my own backyard. And even though I saw it with my own eyes, it is hard for me to comprehend, that people in this city around me are currently dying from this disease that is SO preventable and SO treatable and this is the situation in the capital city where there is “access” to at least some sort of healthcare…the situation in the interior is much worse…it is too much…
Last week when I was curled up in a ball on my mattress on the floor between every time I was running to the bathroom myself, I cried related to the pain and nausea I was experiencing and for those around me who are needlessly dying…Since I have recovered and am feeling much better…I cried again...But this time I cried because I am so blessed…not blessed because I had diarrhea….that is never a blessing…but blessed to have shelter even though it is in a 3 bed-room house with 11 other people…blessed to have a mattress even though it isn’t very comfortable and it is on the floor… blessed that I have a toilet in my house that flushes (most the time)… blessed that I have water to wash my hands with… blessed that I have soap to use with the water…blessed that I have toilet paper… blessed that I have nausea medicine…I cried because God is so good and I am so blessed…
As the cholera outbreak continues to claim lives of those around me, my prayer is that those who are currently fighting cholera will be strengthened and recover…that those who have lost loved ones related to cholera will be comforted… my prayer is that I never forget that I am blessed…that I will have the chance to bless others…and that those around the world currently in “crappy” situations will KNOW God’s blessings in a new way and feel his hand of blessing upon them in this very moment… Be blessed…
My instructor talked about a cholera camp she worked at in Ethiopia a few years back. There were thousands of people infected with the bacteria, her team dug a pit for the waste a fair distance from the camp, and worked non-stop to keep the spread of infection down. Just when the staff thought they were getting on top of the outbreak, the heavens unleashed gallons of rain and the sewage pit that had been dug, flooded the camp. The patients were literally lying in crap and the nurses were wading through it to treat the patients, but because the medical team ensured clean water and simple rehydration salts were given to all the patients, no one, no matter how young, old, or mal-nourished, died…NO ONE EVER needs to die from cholera…
A disease that was last in outbreak stage more than 100 years ago in the USA has been raging through Guinea and since February of this year, 1463 cases of cholera and 50 deaths were reported in the area surrounding Conakry, Guinea! With rainy season and the almost non-existent sewage system here (observed once again today by one of my co-workers when she happened to be at one of the hospitals in town where Mercy Ships is doing some renovations. She observed a few “plumbers” taking care of the sewage at the hospital, by pulling bucket after bucket of human waste, out of the ground, in buckets, like one would use to get water out of a well. The waste was then poured into another bucket, and carried by another man to a truck. None of the workers had gloves on or any protective clothing, or masks) the waterborne disease is on the rise.
Doctors without Borders or Médecins sans Frontières (MSF) has a white, emergency treatment, outbreak, tent set up at the local hospital that is just down the road from where I am living. I have only ever seen those types of tents in news reports on refugee situations around the world, or in movies, not in my own backyard. And even though I saw it with my own eyes, it is hard for me to comprehend, that people in this city around me are currently dying from this disease that is SO preventable and SO treatable and this is the situation in the capital city where there is “access” to at least some sort of healthcare…the situation in the interior is much worse…it is too much…
Last week when I was curled up in a ball on my mattress on the floor between every time I was running to the bathroom myself, I cried related to the pain and nausea I was experiencing and for those around me who are needlessly dying…Since I have recovered and am feeling much better…I cried again...But this time I cried because I am so blessed…not blessed because I had diarrhea….that is never a blessing…but blessed to have shelter even though it is in a 3 bed-room house with 11 other people…blessed to have a mattress even though it isn’t very comfortable and it is on the floor… blessed that I have a toilet in my house that flushes (most the time)… blessed that I have water to wash my hands with… blessed that I have soap to use with the water…blessed that I have toilet paper… blessed that I have nausea medicine…I cried because God is so good and I am so blessed…
As the cholera outbreak continues to claim lives of those around me, my prayer is that those who are currently fighting cholera will be strengthened and recover…that those who have lost loved ones related to cholera will be comforted… my prayer is that I never forget that I am blessed…that I will have the chance to bless others…and that those around the world currently in “crappy” situations will KNOW God’s blessings in a new way and feel his hand of blessing upon them in this very moment… Be blessed…
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)