My little buddy sat on the salmon-colored examination bench. He had
dropped his pants and they hung around his ankles as he sat bare
butted. His bandage was dirty and I peeled the grippy tape from his
little leg. The tape sticks SO well to dry skin. In fact, as I
peeled it off, the top layer of brown skin came off with it. Almost
healed was a clean slice about 3 inches long on his upper
thigh. The dressing change only required washing the healed wound
with bleach water and scrubbing some of the dirt from around the
edges. It really looked quite good. I asked him if it hurt as I
washed it. He said, "No, it's ok." As I put another piece of tape
over the wound, I asked him how this happened. I thought it was a
weird place for an injury like this. He said, "My teacher hit
me." Uhg. This kid had to come to the hospital because his teacher
hit him with a stick. The stick had cleanly laid open his his
leg. I felt ANGRY. I finished my shift and went home.
Showing up at home is usually such a joyful time because the kids
come running to greet me and there is usually food on the little coal
fire. Everyone is so relaxed and usually laying on grass mats just
talking. I love it. But today was different. Everyone was kind
of tense. I went and got my things to shower and walked towards the
little mud enclosure where we shower and pee....(the same
place...yes, I know). Right before I went in though, I heard some
commotion. I turned around and saw Izeedoor (remember he's one of
my favorites) and Tony (he's twelve and one of my other favorites),
arguing with eachother. Then out of nowhere, Jezue (the
oldest...he's married and just had the new baby) came onto the scene
and he was furious. I have never seen him like that (except one time
when he got into a fight with the neighbor). Usually he is so
kind; so compassionate and loving. So I was a little shocked. He
came out of nowhere with a long stick in his hand. He started
whipping both of the boys and yelling things I didn't
understand. His first hit broke the stick over Izeedoors
shoulder. My heart cracked. The next few hits made my muscles
tense all up. Tony escaped but Izeedoor got caught by the neck of
his shirt and dragged over under the central tree in our
courtyard. Jezue reached up and broke off another branch from the
tree with his one free hand. Izeedoor got the whipping of his life.
I couldn't watch. I knew I couldn't stop this. There were people
I respected alot that were simply letting this situation play
out. I just went into my hut and sat on the edge of my cot. I
just could not bear to watch.
I've sat on the edge of that cot many times after shocking
situations here in Bere. It's a familiar position now. When the
screaming stopped it was replaced by crying. Just sobbing. I went
out and walked over to Jolie, my mother here. I asked her why he
was treated like this. She told me that Izeedoor had insulted his
uncle...that he is little and needs to respect his elders...that it
was good that he got this beating. Uhg. I told her it was not
good for my heart. She nodded that she understood. Izeedoor stayed
hidden behind the tree for the next two hours. I wanted to go over
and just hug him, but culturally, I needed to let him stay there and cry.
Just because something is CULTURAL doesn't mean it's right. I am
learning that this is true. I am also learning that BECAUSE
something is cultural, you must understand the culture before you
pass judgment. Deep down...actaully....no, not even that deep
down...pretty superficially...fairly clearly...I knew this was not
right though. I hated seeing him hit so hard. I hated seeing such
unharnessed anger.
This last summer I worked at camp and we watched the NOOMA videos
(by Rob Bell) on Sabbath mornings for staff worship. One of them
was about anger. It said that anger is not bad in itself. It said
that God was angry at times and there were times when Jesus was
motivated by anger into some action. But it talked about how the
way that you channel your anger is what determines the purity of
it. Does it motivate you to bring about rightness and
goodness...bettering the situations that are wrong? Or does is
motivate you into simple revenge; perhaps hate, grudges or uncontrolled rage.
I have so much to learn and I was talking to Samedi (the dad of my
household and the head nurse at the hospital) this morning over
breakfast and I said, "Samedi, I have so many questions but I don't
have enough French to understand the answers yet." He laughed and
said, "You'll get there, Emily."
Friday, November 28, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
when your heart stops.
The gate to the front of the hospital is so creaky. It opens
towards you and I ALWAYS slam into it when I try to leave the
hospital....can't I learn to PULL it to open it? A crowd had
gathered right outside the gate and I walked over to see who was
coming to the hospital at 2 am. It could not be good. A woman was
there in the back of a wooden-cow-drawn cart. She was laying amidst
a bunch of rice bags and her family members were crowded around
her. She was really stiff and when she threw up she could hardly
move from the position she was in which caused her to be a mess. The
family had her wrapped in a blanket tightly and so all we had to do
was pick her up like a mummy and put her on our stretcher. We
carried her into the delivery room because they said she was three
months pregnant.
She was so cold. I have never felt anyone so cold before. The
temperature didn't even register on my little glass thermometer. If
she hadn't talked to me I might have guessed she was dead. I tried
to take her blood pressure but it was no use. I couldn't hear a
thing. Augustan tried to find her pulse but there was nothing in
her wrists and he went up to her neck and found a faint beat. I
grabbed my little Costco blanket (thank-you goodwill) that I'd been
sleeping on just twenty minutes before and we tucked it up around her
and over her head. She was so cold.
Next, we searched for a vien on her. All of them were so clamped
down but finally the IV was started on her forearm. Fluids ran in
and this let us rest a bit easier. James had been called and
slipped into our crowded delivery room. The woman had been bleeding
for 2 days now and this indicated that it was a spontaneous
abortion. She was taken into the surgical ward where they preped
her for a curettage. They needed to clean out her uterus. It was
one of the messiest things I'd seen. The woman was given some
ketamine and the surgery began. She was hooked up to a heart monitor
and the beeping played this little one-noted song.
Then, it all stopped. We heard nothing. No more song. One of
the nurses jumped and started thumping her chest. James stopped
them and we waited a little longer. Everyone just held so
still. You see here in Chad you are at the mercy of alot of
things. When a baby is not breathing well, it's not like you can put
her on a respirator. It's not like you can monitor the increase and
decrease in pulse all through the night for every deathly ill
person. And it's not like you can jump start a heart with a
defibrillator. You simply do your best and when people pull
through, it doesn't ruin your day and when they don''t, it really does.
towards you and I ALWAYS slam into it when I try to leave the
hospital....can't I learn to PULL it to open it? A crowd had
gathered right outside the gate and I walked over to see who was
coming to the hospital at 2 am. It could not be good. A woman was
there in the back of a wooden-cow-drawn cart. She was laying amidst
a bunch of rice bags and her family members were crowded around
her. She was really stiff and when she threw up she could hardly
move from the position she was in which caused her to be a mess. The
family had her wrapped in a blanket tightly and so all we had to do
was pick her up like a mummy and put her on our stretcher. We
carried her into the delivery room because they said she was three
months pregnant.
She was so cold. I have never felt anyone so cold before. The
temperature didn't even register on my little glass thermometer. If
she hadn't talked to me I might have guessed she was dead. I tried
to take her blood pressure but it was no use. I couldn't hear a
thing. Augustan tried to find her pulse but there was nothing in
her wrists and he went up to her neck and found a faint beat. I
grabbed my little Costco blanket (thank-you goodwill) that I'd been
sleeping on just twenty minutes before and we tucked it up around her
and over her head. She was so cold.
Next, we searched for a vien on her. All of them were so clamped
down but finally the IV was started on her forearm. Fluids ran in
and this let us rest a bit easier. James had been called and
slipped into our crowded delivery room. The woman had been bleeding
for 2 days now and this indicated that it was a spontaneous
abortion. She was taken into the surgical ward where they preped
her for a curettage. They needed to clean out her uterus. It was
one of the messiest things I'd seen. The woman was given some
ketamine and the surgery began. She was hooked up to a heart monitor
and the beeping played this little one-noted song.
Then, it all stopped. We heard nothing. No more song. One of
the nurses jumped and started thumping her chest. James stopped
them and we waited a little longer. Everyone just held so
still. You see here in Chad you are at the mercy of alot of
things. When a baby is not breathing well, it's not like you can put
her on a respirator. It's not like you can monitor the increase and
decrease in pulse all through the night for every deathly ill
person. And it's not like you can jump start a heart with a
defibrillator. You simply do your best and when people pull
through, it doesn't ruin your day and when they don''t, it really does.
Soon the beeping came back...her heart started again.
I hated hearing that silent sound. It was stressful. James
explained that she was just so cold and that maybe everything just
constricted for a minute or two. The woman pulled through and the
morning came for her.
fulthankday.
thank-ful list!
-thankful for health. i am not doubling over in pain from bad
bacteria crawling along my gastrointestinal linings.
-i haven't had malaria. miracle.
-i have amazing mom who sent me a Santa suit to Africa! I'm so excited!
-i work with absolutely incredible people at Bere hospital.
-the two littlest kids in my house make me smile so big that I almost
let out a gaspy sob of joy.
-i wake up without an alarm at 5:30 most mornings...I've never been
more rested.
-i fall asleep easily with lots of noise.
-the people love to run here.
-i don't feel like I'll die of heat.
-the mornings are even cold.
-the river is close.
-i have dried milk.
-there is a guitar here.
-we have email ever tuesday and friday.
-i have a clean water source. never have to purify my water.
-there are lots of colors in Africa.
-i have time enough to read here.
-when i go home there will be vitamins and vegetables and fruit right
at the grocery store.
-i have a phone that my parents can call me on.
-spices.
-stars.
-bucket showers.
-coal fires.
-my mosquito net.
-pictures on my hut wall.
-here, the world is not quietly telling me i should be something that i'm not.
-francs.
-peanuts.
-bruille in the morning!
-wonderful paths to walk around town.
this is.....more than enough to give praise for.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
The poor man built his house out of mud...and the walls went washing away.
When people clean here it seems like one of the dirtiest things
ever. I jogged through the village this morning. All the women
were out sweeping in their dirt yards, throwing up dust all over the
place! This dust consists of the dried particles of everything they
let drain on to the ground...yikers. I almost choked a couple of
times. Then the men add to the haze with their little smoking
circles and the Arab cow herders by driving their cattle right
through town. What are they thinking? The children are burning
trash on the paths and so the mornings have this thick orange cloud
to welcome them in. It's actually kind of cozy...like a campfire
feeling every morning. The kids wear little parkas for the first
hours of the day and I even saw a little boy in a snow suit. Who
sent a snow suit to Africa? Confess now. :) They think it is
cold right now. Sure...it's a bit cool in the mornings...but it
takes two hours and we're back to the blazing heat.
The sky is big here. You know when you go to a very flat
place...maybe parts of Wyoming (Tara you remember this?) you see more
sky than you do land and so the sky FEELS bigger. It's blue I'm sure
but the sun is so bright that I can't ever gaze up long enough to
appreciate the blue. The rainy season was GREEN! And wet! The
first week I was here, we took a walk to the river, which, at that
time was like walking through mash potatoes or something. Everything
was soaked through and through. Nathaniel acquired worms on this
trip. Apparently you can get them right up through your feet
(especially when walking in wet lands). This is what has deterred
me a bit from running around barefoot. That and my father's scolding. :)
I tried to think of some comparison for the houses here. I thought
of a gingerbread house and how a really good one is made of only
edible materials. The huts here are a collage of ALL natural
things. The mud bricks (mud, water, sand, some vegetation and alot
of heat), the branches for trusses, the grass roof, the grass ties
around the trusses, and the dirt floor. You could smash this house
down and not leave a bit of garbage. Kind of neat. But when the
rainy season comes, houses are destroyed left and right. The mud
walls just disintegrate and there is alot of rebuilding done after
the rains stop.
One night, at like 10:00 p.m., I was in my hut, sitting in the dark,
just listening to the rains crash on my tin roof (yes I have a tin
roof...this has kept me quite dry.) It's a crazy sound. All of a
sudden a woman was yelling outside of my door. She was banging for
me to let her in. I was already totally out of my element in this
crazy storm and was afraid of what I'd find when I opened the
door. I cracked the door and as soon as I did the wall of rain hit
me. Remember, this was the first week. My french was really awful
and the rain was demanding that we shout over it's ruckus. I
couldn't understand anything she was saying but, as we stood under my
door frame, I could hear with my eyes that she was worried about her
baby...that he was sick...that she had no money...and she wanted me
to fix it. The mother was drunk and I was scared. Since I live
right next to the hospital, I told her rather shortly, to go over
there; that there were nurses there to help her. She only shook her
head and ran off in the rain, trying to stay under her umbrella.
There I stood. Not knowing if I had done the right thing. Being a
little disappointed at how I had reacted. The questions started
parking themselves in my head: How did she know where I lived? Was
the baby really sick? Why was she so panicked? Should I have at
least brought her in my hut, out of the rain? Maybe she really
didn't have any money and this was why she didn't go to the hospital.
I closed my door and ran my hands over my clothes. Soaked. I
pulled them off of me and as I did I realized that the walls of water
had been hitting my dirt hut, throwing mud all over me. I was soooo
dirty. But my mind couldn't stop running this weird situation
through my head and all I wanted to do was sleep. After I got my
muddy, wet clothes off, I just climbed into bed and put ear plugs
in. The morning brought clearer thinking for me. I washed up and
ate a cup of bruille. I don't know where the woman went. I wish my
reaction could have been a little more loving and less fear motivated.
I think we can kick ourselves for not acting this way, not doing
that just a little bit differently, not biting our tongue, not being
a better friend, sister, or teacher. But kicking ourselves just
leaves us all beat up. Instead of being resilient and rising up, we
just look like the beaten puppies of Chad (animal rights activists
have a lot of work to do here). We're mistake makers. We're
imprefect. We'll never be perfect until we get out of this
place. Bounce back. Attempt. Pray. Fail. Learn. Try again.
Everyone makes mistakes. Hopefully next time a woman comes banging
on my door in the middle of a fear-inducing storm I will react
better...I'm not sure when that will ever happen again. :) You never know.
ever. I jogged through the village this morning. All the women
were out sweeping in their dirt yards, throwing up dust all over the
place! This dust consists of the dried particles of everything they
let drain on to the ground...yikers. I almost choked a couple of
times. Then the men add to the haze with their little smoking
circles and the Arab cow herders by driving their cattle right
through town. What are they thinking? The children are burning
trash on the paths and so the mornings have this thick orange cloud
to welcome them in. It's actually kind of cozy...like a campfire
feeling every morning. The kids wear little parkas for the first
hours of the day and I even saw a little boy in a snow suit. Who
sent a snow suit to Africa? Confess now. :) They think it is
cold right now. Sure...it's a bit cool in the mornings...but it
takes two hours and we're back to the blazing heat.
The sky is big here. You know when you go to a very flat
place...maybe parts of Wyoming (Tara you remember this?) you see more
sky than you do land and so the sky FEELS bigger. It's blue I'm sure
but the sun is so bright that I can't ever gaze up long enough to
appreciate the blue. The rainy season was GREEN! And wet! The
first week I was here, we took a walk to the river, which, at that
time was like walking through mash potatoes or something. Everything
was soaked through and through. Nathaniel acquired worms on this
trip. Apparently you can get them right up through your feet
(especially when walking in wet lands). This is what has deterred
me a bit from running around barefoot. That and my father's scolding. :)
I tried to think of some comparison for the houses here. I thought
of a gingerbread house and how a really good one is made of only
edible materials. The huts here are a collage of ALL natural
things. The mud bricks (mud, water, sand, some vegetation and alot
of heat), the branches for trusses, the grass roof, the grass ties
around the trusses, and the dirt floor. You could smash this house
down and not leave a bit of garbage. Kind of neat. But when the
rainy season comes, houses are destroyed left and right. The mud
walls just disintegrate and there is alot of rebuilding done after
the rains stop.
One night, at like 10:00 p.m., I was in my hut, sitting in the dark,
just listening to the rains crash on my tin roof (yes I have a tin
roof...this has kept me quite dry.) It's a crazy sound. All of a
sudden a woman was yelling outside of my door. She was banging for
me to let her in. I was already totally out of my element in this
crazy storm and was afraid of what I'd find when I opened the
door. I cracked the door and as soon as I did the wall of rain hit
me. Remember, this was the first week. My french was really awful
and the rain was demanding that we shout over it's ruckus. I
couldn't understand anything she was saying but, as we stood under my
door frame, I could hear with my eyes that she was worried about her
baby...that he was sick...that she had no money...and she wanted me
to fix it. The mother was drunk and I was scared. Since I live
right next to the hospital, I told her rather shortly, to go over
there; that there were nurses there to help her. She only shook her
head and ran off in the rain, trying to stay under her umbrella.
There I stood. Not knowing if I had done the right thing. Being a
little disappointed at how I had reacted. The questions started
parking themselves in my head: How did she know where I lived? Was
the baby really sick? Why was she so panicked? Should I have at
least brought her in my hut, out of the rain? Maybe she really
didn't have any money and this was why she didn't go to the hospital.
I closed my door and ran my hands over my clothes. Soaked. I
pulled them off of me and as I did I realized that the walls of water
had been hitting my dirt hut, throwing mud all over me. I was soooo
dirty. But my mind couldn't stop running this weird situation
through my head and all I wanted to do was sleep. After I got my
muddy, wet clothes off, I just climbed into bed and put ear plugs
in. The morning brought clearer thinking for me. I washed up and
ate a cup of bruille. I don't know where the woman went. I wish my
reaction could have been a little more loving and less fear motivated.
I think we can kick ourselves for not acting this way, not doing
that just a little bit differently, not biting our tongue, not being
a better friend, sister, or teacher. But kicking ourselves just
leaves us all beat up. Instead of being resilient and rising up, we
just look like the beaten puppies of Chad (animal rights activists
have a lot of work to do here). We're mistake makers. We're
imprefect. We'll never be perfect until we get out of this
place. Bounce back. Attempt. Pray. Fail. Learn. Try again.
Everyone makes mistakes. Hopefully next time a woman comes banging
on my door in the middle of a fear-inducing storm I will react
better...I'm not sure when that will ever happen again. :) You never know.
Josephine.
Screaming. I was sitting in the nurses station, sketching,
journaling, and waiting for the next nurses to come take report, when
we heard crying. We ran into the next room and saw Josephine
wrapped up in her daughters arms, her eyes rolled back into her head
and mouth moving in completely unnatural ways.
Josephine is so sweet. She has corn-row braids that follow her
scalp from her forehead to the back of her neck. She's missing her
front two teeth. She came to hospital maybe a month ago. She was
rushed here after a moto accident that left her bone sticking out of
her ankle. An open fracture. They put her back together in
emergency surgery and now she has been resting in Bed 6, taking her
antibiotics and getting dressing changes on the crater of infection
that the bone left. Everyday she is really chipper. Somehow she
creeped into my heart with a chair and has stayed there the past few
weeks. She only speaks Nangjere and every morning when I ask her,
"what's going on?" she simply says, "nothing..." and smiles. We
have talked about her leg, if she's hungry, if I had worked alot that
day....very simple conversations since my Nangjere is oh so simple.
The daughter was up on the bed with Josephine, trying to manually
close her eyes as I imagine the contorted expression was scaring
her. But in the process she was pushing Josephine's neck down to her
chest, completely cutting off good airflow. This is a really
common reaction of the people here. I have pulled so many parents
away from their children because they are panicking and smothering
them. We pulled her sister off of her. We checked Josephine's
pulse. Normal. Called the head nurse. The head nurse then was
Augustan, a really good nurse. Josephine kept seizing. Her neck
would whip back and forth and her hands clench down on mine, sending
muscle spasms up her arms as well.
There is alot of witch-craft and meddling with dark things here in
Chad. I don't completely understand all of it. I know that alot of
times people will try witch-craft first to fix their health problems
and then when that doesn't work, they come to the hospital (alot of
times with all their money used up). Josephine had an episode
somewhat like this when she first came in and Augustan believed it
could be something spiritual that she was dealing with. He gave her
a drug to calm her down and Kristen prayed for her.
She settled down and the crowd started to disperse. She still
hadn't responded to any of us; hadn't recognized us. I started
asking her what her name was. She responded with her full African
name. :) "This is Emily, Josephine." She said, "Lapia", the
greeting here. I just kept fanning her and half singing her
name: "Josephine...." to which she responded in a sing-song tone,
"Emaleen" which really humored me that she had rhymed our names
together. I asked her how she was and she responded with a answer I
hadn't heard before. I asked the sister what she had said, and the
sister said that Josephine had expressed that things were not going
well. I asked if we could pray again with her now that she was
conscious. Josephine said, "Emily, there is only one God." I
agreed and so we prayed. She said,"Merci Buja, Merci Buja," still
grasping my hand. We stayed and talked a while longer through
broken Nangere, broken French and lots of smiling. She asked me to
stay and eat with her, but I told her I needed to go, that maybe
tomorrow I would eat boulle with her. She said, "Yes". She asked if
we could pray one more time and then if we could pray tomorrow as
well. I said for sure we could.
I went back a little later and peaked around the corner. She was
sleeping soundly. God can work his good and life changing magic
against the magic that so many people have meddled in; the dark magic
that destroys their lives. I wish that we came to God more often
with each other. Just stop to talk to him. How will our father
know us if we never talk to him. I hope Josephine wants to pray
together more. Maybe we can pray together in the mornings. I'll
have to ask her.
journaling, and waiting for the next nurses to come take report, when
we heard crying. We ran into the next room and saw Josephine
wrapped up in her daughters arms, her eyes rolled back into her head
and mouth moving in completely unnatural ways.
Josephine is so sweet. She has corn-row braids that follow her
scalp from her forehead to the back of her neck. She's missing her
front two teeth. She came to hospital maybe a month ago. She was
rushed here after a moto accident that left her bone sticking out of
her ankle. An open fracture. They put her back together in
emergency surgery and now she has been resting in Bed 6, taking her
antibiotics and getting dressing changes on the crater of infection
that the bone left. Everyday she is really chipper. Somehow she
creeped into my heart with a chair and has stayed there the past few
weeks. She only speaks Nangjere and every morning when I ask her,
"what's going on?" she simply says, "nothing..." and smiles. We
have talked about her leg, if she's hungry, if I had worked alot that
day....very simple conversations since my Nangjere is oh so simple.
The daughter was up on the bed with Josephine, trying to manually
close her eyes as I imagine the contorted expression was scaring
her. But in the process she was pushing Josephine's neck down to her
chest, completely cutting off good airflow. This is a really
common reaction of the people here. I have pulled so many parents
away from their children because they are panicking and smothering
them. We pulled her sister off of her. We checked Josephine's
pulse. Normal. Called the head nurse. The head nurse then was
Augustan, a really good nurse. Josephine kept seizing. Her neck
would whip back and forth and her hands clench down on mine, sending
muscle spasms up her arms as well.
There is alot of witch-craft and meddling with dark things here in
Chad. I don't completely understand all of it. I know that alot of
times people will try witch-craft first to fix their health problems
and then when that doesn't work, they come to the hospital (alot of
times with all their money used up). Josephine had an episode
somewhat like this when she first came in and Augustan believed it
could be something spiritual that she was dealing with. He gave her
a drug to calm her down and Kristen prayed for her.
She settled down and the crowd started to disperse. She still
hadn't responded to any of us; hadn't recognized us. I started
asking her what her name was. She responded with her full African
name. :) "This is Emily, Josephine." She said, "Lapia", the
greeting here. I just kept fanning her and half singing her
name: "Josephine...." to which she responded in a sing-song tone,
"Emaleen" which really humored me that she had rhymed our names
together. I asked her how she was and she responded with a answer I
hadn't heard before. I asked the sister what she had said, and the
sister said that Josephine had expressed that things were not going
well. I asked if we could pray again with her now that she was
conscious. Josephine said, "Emily, there is only one God." I
agreed and so we prayed. She said,"Merci Buja, Merci Buja," still
grasping my hand. We stayed and talked a while longer through
broken Nangere, broken French and lots of smiling. She asked me to
stay and eat with her, but I told her I needed to go, that maybe
tomorrow I would eat boulle with her. She said, "Yes". She asked if
we could pray one more time and then if we could pray tomorrow as
well. I said for sure we could.
I went back a little later and peaked around the corner. She was
sleeping soundly. God can work his good and life changing magic
against the magic that so many people have meddled in; the dark magic
that destroys their lives. I wish that we came to God more often
with each other. Just stop to talk to him. How will our father
know us if we never talk to him. I hope Josephine wants to pray
together more. Maybe we can pray together in the mornings. I'll
have to ask her.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Fw: Getting the party started.
GETTING THE PARTY STARTED
choices. That you reflect what you choose in life. They say that
you are the one at the wheel and your ability to drive, put on the
brakes, pedal to the metal, navigate (or get real lost) is the beauty
of human choice. I've always kind of thought that way. But what
about the people whose mothers never took them to a steep hill to
learn to drive (stick shift) and are suddenly given the junkiest car,
the longest road, and then told they have to drive, blindfolded,
through downtown Seattle at rush hour. Short sticks drawn, bad hands
dealt; where is the freedom to choose the high road? It's more like a
survival mission for some people.
What we have isn't what we would have always chosen. And that's just ok.
I just keep thinking, "I'm not usually some patriotic-flag-bearing
rallier, but I sure do recognize that the balance has tipped in my
favor as an American."
I am so thankful I wasn't born in Chad.
There I said it.
It feels like I shouldn't being say it: like it's an unspoken truth
that, when spoken, just reveals me as quite spoiled.
The freedom for us isn't in our ability to make the choice of every
left right and rest-stop on our path. God knows that we've all
tried to make choices that were met with big rocks that we couldn't
do anything about. We were handed things that we had to deal with
even though we never asked for them. Maybe our free-ness is the
ability to choose a direction and be motivated to keep in that
direction no matter what we get put on our plate. Directionally motivated.
Alot of people here are directionally motivated. They don't have
much, but they're putting it use to move in some direction that they
can call good.
The other night we had a party. Chadian-style party. When I think
party, I think of a certain atmosphere. You know. Celebration. The
host and guests bringing the best things forward to share. Lots of
effort made to connect with people. I was really curious how that
same atmosphere would be created here because I didn't know where we
all were going to sit (chairs are a bit of a luxury here), what we
were all going to eat (do they have other things besides rice?), what
we would all talk about (such a language barrier sometimes), or if
we were going to listen to music (static radio maybe...). How was
this party going to get started?
People started arriving. The guests came in the front courtyard
gate and the air was so partyish. Everyone was anticipating food I
could tell. Nathaniel told us not to eat...that there would be alot
of food. I saw little "tables" all set up with the "china" set
out-all mismatched. They had these savory "crepes" and the CHOICE of
two different sauces! There was a second course of JUICE! The
third course was rice boulle (with more sauce) and by this time we
were full. The vegetarian (non-goat) sauce was this green leafy
sauce that I just knew was not a good party food because everyone
would have green stuff in their teeth! But just as i was thinking
that, the host walked around and gave us each a toothpick for our
teeth! "That was a very awesome Chadian party thing to do," I
thought. We all left full and went to sundown worship at the
church. It was the beginning of the Sabbath. We agreed that the
party was not over yet though and that we would all come back to the
hut for a bon fire (rare in Chad because wood is a bit scarce), for
singing, some chadian dancing, and for a 4th course of food. The
fire was going when we arrived and worship continued in singing,
guitar, african drums and then moments of silent contentment that
also is such a form of praise. There was even some teaching of
African traditional dance that made us all laugh SO hard. It was
like a "just shake your body violently and move your hands around"
dance. I'm so glad I wasn't pulled up to give a
demonstration. :) The party felt so celebratory. I couldn't
believe how what they had was used to move us all in this direction
of connectedness! The extravagance was in their generosity not in
what they put on the dinner table. It reminded me so much of the
woman who gave so little but it was all she had. Jesus said she had
given all she had and that meant the world! What a party when people
put their best forward for YOU. You just feel it.
Fw: i am a disco dancer
I AM A DISCO DANCER
for two seconds, waiting for Ansley and Jacob to catch up on their
bikes (if only they would stop taking breaks to smell the
flowers). But two seconds was plenty of time for the mob to close
in. No one asked, "Where are you from?" or "What's your
name?" Nope. Just good-old, silent, arms-crossed staring. I don't
mean like three people either. One person seems to be permission for
twenty-five others to join in the steady gaze. I'm fairly used to
it by now, but sometimes I want to just give them something to look
at. Maybe do a dance, start singing a loud solo real off tune, or
run at them screaming like a crazy girl. Then they'd have something
actually interesting to watch. :) But I was too tired to do
anything interesting and I just let them stare. But then Daniel said
something that struck a beautiful chord in me. He was also at the
center of this ring as we waited and gave a quizzical look directed
at the spectators and kindly pointed out in French, "What are you
looking at kids? She is a person just like you." I'm a person
just like you!
Before I came here to Chad, Fletcher, Laura, my dad and I went to
the fair. I love being a third wheel with Fletcher and Laura. They
are so fun. Of course my dad is absolutely the best so it was an
evening to remember. Fletcher, Laura and I decided that we wanted a
funnel cake. The line was pretty long in comparison to the Elephant
Ear line but we decided the wait would be worth it. Soon, the
greasy wall of hot air hit us and we knew we're getting close to the
front. We'd been standing in line with other drooling patrons for
quite a while and so I was starting to feel a little bonded to
them. I decided I would comment on our common ground. I leaned
forward to the girl ahead of me and said, "Wow, I almost caved in and
just got an Elephant ear." The girl totally didn't hear me. Or
maybe she just completely ignored me. Either way, I was left hanging
on my last word, waiting for a response that wasn't coming, while
Fletcher and Laura laughed hysterically at my very unsuccessful
attempt to connect to this girl.
Common ground (when you stand on it) is awesome. Sometimes here in
Africa it's like, "Wow, we are from really different worlds. What do
we have in common?" But then there will be times when I connect in
funny moments like when my mother here did a cartwheel triggering a
gymnastics session together or when Mounden sang, "I am a disco
dancer" (thank-you static radio) or when we played soccer out in the
blazing sun behind the church. Connection! Gotta' keep trying to
connect to people. Even if you get shut down from time to
time. Even if attempts at connection fail. The few times when
sparks fly and you, for a few seconds, actually feel like you're
reading the same page of the same book and laughing at the same
parts....So worth it. Risk-to reward ratio: Very good.
Fw: handle that
HANDLE THAT.
I really don't think I can do this. I am NOT a nurse. I feel like
a second grader on move up day; the day where for one day you got to
try out being a third grader. They give you division and
multiplication problems and ask you to write haiku poems; things
you've never done before. Inside your little challenged mind you
think, "oh I want the teacher to like me, I want to succeed here, I
want to be able to be this...but I really don't think I can do this."
Last night I worked a shift called "night shift." Maybe they
should call it, "eternity long shift," because it goes from 3pm to 8
am. I worked with another nurse named Augustan 2. He is truly
awesome. But right now he is sick. I don't think he ever got rid
of malaria the last time he had it. He was vomiting all last night
and couldn't help me work. I asked him not to go home though
because I can't be the only one at the hospital....I need someone to
ask medicine questions to, to receive emergency patients, and to just
be there. He stayed and slept in the delivery room. As he shut the
door behind him, I stood in the hall of the Isolation and Maternity
wards thinking, "I really don't think I can do this." The wards are
so full right now because it is right after the rice season and
everyone is 'rich'. Isolation. Completely full. Maternity. No room
left. Pediatrics. Not a bed open. Women's Ward. Overflowing. Men's
Ward. Surgery patience galore.
I had come at three o'clock thinking I'd have a break to run home
and get blankets and my light and eat supper. Somehow we found no
time for leaving. This kids blood transfusion clotted off. This
baby needs Diazapam because it's convulsing. This baby's IV is so
infiltrated it has a little balloon of water stored under his
skin. Start the IV for woman in the ER. Give the meds for 6
o'clock. Take the temps of any critical babies. Run back and forth
between wards. That's all there's time for now.
So I never got to go home. My family was so sweet and when I
didn't make it home, they showed up with a cute little pot of this
oil pasta.
a second grader on move up day; the day where for one day you got to
try out being a third grader. They give you division and
multiplication problems and ask you to write haiku poems; things
you've never done before. Inside your little challenged mind you
think, "oh I want the teacher to like me, I want to succeed here, I
want to be able to be this...but I really don't think I can do this."
Last night I worked a shift called "night shift." Maybe they
should call it, "eternity long shift," because it goes from 3pm to 8
am. I worked with another nurse named Augustan 2. He is truly
awesome. But right now he is sick. I don't think he ever got rid
of malaria the last time he had it. He was vomiting all last night
and couldn't help me work. I asked him not to go home though
because I can't be the only one at the hospital....I need someone to
ask medicine questions to, to receive emergency patients, and to just
be there. He stayed and slept in the delivery room. As he shut the
door behind him, I stood in the hall of the Isolation and Maternity
wards thinking, "I really don't think I can do this." The wards are
so full right now because it is right after the rice season and
everyone is 'rich'. Isolation. Completely full. Maternity. No room
left. Pediatrics. Not a bed open. Women's Ward. Overflowing. Men's
Ward. Surgery patience galore.
I had come at three o'clock thinking I'd have a break to run home
and get blankets and my light and eat supper. Somehow we found no
time for leaving. This kids blood transfusion clotted off. This
baby needs Diazapam because it's convulsing. This baby's IV is so
infiltrated it has a little balloon of water stored under his
skin. Start the IV for woman in the ER. Give the meds for 6
o'clock. Take the temps of any critical babies. Run back and forth
between wards. That's all there's time for now.
So I never got to go home. My family was so sweet and when I
didn't make it home, they showed up with a cute little pot of this
oil pasta.
At about 10:30 pm I thought I couldn't do this all by myself. I
hit rock-bottom and I've decided that was the best thing for me right
then because when you bounce a basketball on hard ground it bounces
back. If you don't hit hard, you'll just drag the rest of the
night. I had a good little session of
prayer/star-gazing/remembering how all these things turn out
fine/positive self talk (thanks Janet...health psych) and said to
myself, "buck-up Emily. tough it out. go-get-em!" :) I give God's
presence, through his stars, the beautiful praise music (that was
for some reason still playing over the hospital's make-shift sound
system), and the bugs (that reminded me I was in Africa and this is
an amazing opportunity), the credit for my surge of energy. The
night was still long. I had a million meds to give between eleven
and one. But at one thirty I laid down for a rest outside of the ER.
I can never wait for the sun to come back in the morning. It is so
lonely because the patients sleep so soundly. I tried waking one
little girl up for her midnight breathing treatment and her mom only
rolled over and said she didn't have any of the medicines left. I
stood there waving the medicines infront of her face and said that I
knew she was tired but we needed to give her daughter the
treatment. When the Africans sleep, they sleep hard. The patients
who don't sleep are the ones who are crying or in so much pain they
can just lay there or sit up in bed in silence. It's eerie and I
always look forward to morning.
At four-thirty I went around and gave all the other meds. Still
pitch black. My battery from my phone was running low from it's
substitute job as flashlight all night long. But the light creeped
up and I got a this really peaceful feeling. I had told myself I
would praise God when I saw the morning light. I look back on it
now and realize I should not have waited. I should have praised him
at 10:30. At rock bottom. Because rock bottom is what sends me
up....sends me sky high. Rock bottom makes us different
people. Stronger, more God dependent people. Augustan needs IV
fluids I'm pretty sure. He can't have anymore fluid left in him.
God never gives us more than we can handle.
hit rock-bottom and I've decided that was the best thing for me right
then because when you bounce a basketball on hard ground it bounces
back. If you don't hit hard, you'll just drag the rest of the
night. I had a good little session of
prayer/star-gazing/remembering how all these things turn out
fine/positive self talk (thanks Janet...health psych) and said to
myself, "buck-up Emily. tough it out. go-get-em!" :) I give God's
presence, through his stars, the beautiful praise music (that was
for some reason still playing over the hospital's make-shift sound
system), and the bugs (that reminded me I was in Africa and this is
an amazing opportunity), the credit for my surge of energy. The
night was still long. I had a million meds to give between eleven
and one. But at one thirty I laid down for a rest outside of the ER.
I can never wait for the sun to come back in the morning. It is so
lonely because the patients sleep so soundly. I tried waking one
little girl up for her midnight breathing treatment and her mom only
rolled over and said she didn't have any of the medicines left. I
stood there waving the medicines infront of her face and said that I
knew she was tired but we needed to give her daughter the
treatment. When the Africans sleep, they sleep hard. The patients
who don't sleep are the ones who are crying or in so much pain they
can just lay there or sit up in bed in silence. It's eerie and I
always look forward to morning.
At four-thirty I went around and gave all the other meds. Still
pitch black. My battery from my phone was running low from it's
substitute job as flashlight all night long. But the light creeped
up and I got a this really peaceful feeling. I had told myself I
would praise God when I saw the morning light. I look back on it
now and realize I should not have waited. I should have praised him
at 10:30. At rock bottom. Because rock bottom is what sends me
up....sends me sky high. Rock bottom makes us different
people. Stronger, more God dependent people. Augustan needs IV
fluids I'm pretty sure. He can't have anymore fluid left in him.
God never gives us more than we can handle.
Fw: ouch. hum-dee-dum. i'm tough
OUCH. HUM-DEE-DUM. I'M TOUGH
face.....I wish you could have seen what face I just made...but it's
like kind of my eyes tense up and my forehead gets real wrinkled. I
just know that bleach water in a cut has got to feel just awful. But
I also know that the pain they feel is the road to a healed foot, an
abdomen that can carry another baby, or a closed up lung that can
actually hold air again. There is a song by Relient K that says,
"the end will justify the pain it took to get us there." But still,
when I stuff stinging gauze into a two inch deep hole in the side of
someone's leg I can't always stop my face from taking this
shape. Wow, these people are tough though. The other day we were
waiting for a premi baby to be born and taking guesses on how big it
would be, when all of a sudden, the baby came shooting out and lay
right there on the table. I grabbed it and took it over where we
could clean it up (it was already screaming loud.) The mother hadn't
even made a sound when she delivered the baby! I think I am getting
a false impression of just how painful child-birth is. In reality
it's probably not as easy as they are making me think it is. I
thought I was tough. These people put me to shame.
Sister-in-laws....
Subject: sister-in-laws.
So last night I worked the night shift and about 11pm a man came in
with his foot bleeding a bit like a river flows. He hadn't brought
any record of medical history, no money, and I could tell he had had
a bit too much to drink. Anyway, long story short, after he tromps
all over our ER, dripping blood everywhere, almost falling over, I
finally got him to go sit down.....outside. I'm so
compassionate. :) We soaked his foot in bleach water (ouch)
and he told us a bit about what happened. Apparently, he had gotten
into a fight with his sister-in-law. She had taken a rice blade to
his foot and his brother brought him into the hospital four hours
later (did he just sit there at look at his foot bleed....I don't get
it). I couldn't help but laugh just a little bit. Then I
thought about how I am going to have a sister-in-law so very soon! I
started trembling at the thought. I had just seen evidence of how
crazy a sister-in-law could be. :) Taylor and Nilmini will get
married in Loma Linda just after I return in March. Ok, ok, so the
truth is, I'm actually SO excited to gain a sister. Nilmini is
amazing and even if she came at me with a rice knife I think I could
take her on. :)
As I cleaned up the blood from this man's stitch-deserving gash, I
thought about how Fletcher and I have already had so much fun with
Nil when she comes to visit...it's like making up lost time on
getting to know a sibling that you just recently met. Can't wait for
your wedding Tay and Nil.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Fw: Naivety
NAIVETY
kids going to different countries, colleges, and high schools. It's
amazing how many of my friends are out of the country this
year. Each of the parents said a few wise words of release after
the meal was over. My dad said a few things but the one thing that I
really remember, the idea that rang very true in my mind, was this
(paraphrased): In your youth and naivety, you don't know how hard
certain things are and that is why you try them. This is what
allows you to do things that maybe people with broader experience
would not even attempt.
I've found that a lot of once in a lifetime experiences are only
once in a lifetime because after the first time we decide, "Wow that
was amazing, but yikers I now know how lucky I am to have gotten to
do that and gotten THROUGH that ALIVE....that was a once in a
life-time experience. I might not be so lucky next time."
Once I ate a big, live, beetle in the hype of a moment. Everyone
was volunteering money and shouting, "Do it! Do it!". I look back
on that like, "What were you thinking, Emily?" For the right price I
think I could do it again, but it was the energy of the first time
that pushed me into action that day.
This summer I was at Priest Lake with my family and Alex, Laura and
Nilmini joined us too! SO fun. Alex and I were sitting on the
beach one evening and we looked across the lake at this
mountain. We were like, "We should climb that. It's not THAT
tall." Then we were like, "Alright, let's go!" So we jump in a
canoe and paddled the 3/4 of a mile across the lake. We tied our
canoe up and started trekking up this mountain: no trail, no
compass-just the goal of getting to the top. We crashed through
some crazy, thick brush, and when we summited (good word), we felt
SO invincible! It was a lot further than I had expected. I was so
dirty, hot, sweaty, and scraped-up from the challenge. Getting
back down is whole other story...but we made it back. :) This is the
naivety that my dad was talking about.
Yesterday, us kids here took a "little-thought-out trip". We
decided that we would take bikes (borrow them from our African
friends) and ride the 18 kilometers to Lai (another village out on a
river). So we started riding around 8:30 a.m. We had water,
harmonicas, bananas...all the essentials....and I watched as this
train of white people on bikes attempted to make their way out of
Bere on the sandy trails. The road would be hard on any bike
because the sand just sucks your tire under and it wasn't 2
kilometers down the road that we had our first accident. After a
while, bike wrecks were like the flies on the food in Chad: not a big
deal. We had lots of fun riding to Lai and made it there in around 2
and a half hours. This probably could have been done in a very short
time but you have to understand that our bikes were ancient. My tire
was doing some orbital rotation around the central spokes and I
thought it would fall off any moment. Anlsey has literal bruises on
her butt from her seat of metal and Kristen could hardly control the
direction of her bike in the sand. I didn't realize it but the
bridge about 100 yards from being done and Lai is on the other side
of the bridge. So these canoes offered to take us and our bikes
across for about 50 cents. We pile into these dug-outs that are sewn
together where the wood cracked. Don't ask me how you sew wood. I
spent a lot of the trip trying to figure it out myself. But thanks
to the awesome drivers and the full-time hired-water-bailer, we made
it to the other side. In Lai we sat down at a restaurant. I still
don't know what I ate but it was so rubbery I felt like my teeth were
on a trampoline. We went to the river after this and swam for a
long time. We ran off these cliffs into this mucky muddy water
below. Prrrrroooobbbabbbly not the cleanest thing I've ever
done. But definitely not the most boring thing either! :) We went
back and changed in to our clothes and headed back out. A few more
stops and we found ourselves back in our canoes and back on the
road. The ride home was glorious and the sun set right on the dirt
path in front of us. 24 miles on rickety bikes. Thanks naivety.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
This life is more than ENOUGH to give praise for!
I pulled on my nike runners and changed into my indian pants and tattered Southern service day t-shirt. Finally, Izeedor (13) got up and came out all sleepy-eyed. The other neighborhood boy (18) (I actually don't know his name....too many to always remember) came too. A 5 am run. We started out and Izeedoor suddenly stopped because he drank too much water the night before :) I laughed and said I would keep running while he took care of business! He caught up and we wound through the village and out into the country. We passed many people heading to the rice fields, balancing sharp rice blades and water containers on their heads as they walked. We just kept running. The sun began to rise! JAW-DROPPING sunrise! I thought, "Maybe this is magic; the magic of God." A miracle of beauty! My heart seriously jumped at least 4 times. I can't stop talking about something that pretty. The sun cast itself up onto clouds and threw shots of different colors all about. All of this light came from one big round ball of fire rising quicker than anywhere else I've been. I couldn't help but run backwards so I could watch the sunrise. Our pace was perfect and our breathing was so synchronized. We ran a solid 5k and returned to shower out of our buckets and eat up because Sabine was preparing breakfast over the coal fire.
I don't see poverty so much anymore. I used to see it all the time. The dirty-handed little kids. Awful old rusted bikes. All clothing tinted brown from dirt. Noses dripping with snot. No one wearing shoes. Kids playing with bottle caps and dirty plastic bags. Children eating plain-dirt-covered-potatoes. Pants so outgrown that they can't zip anymore. Dirt houses. Holes for toilets. Leaves for toilet paper.
Poverty.
But rarely do I see it anymore. Not because these conditions have disappeared, but perspective has shifted. Understanding is starting to take place. I mentioned this to another person here and they agreed! They don't see it anymore either!
Now there are just a bunch of free spirited little kids who don't NEED shoes. That dirt-tie-dyed-shirt-with-five-
I don't see poverty so much anymore. I used to see it all the time. The dirty-handed little kids. Awful old rusted bikes. All clothing tinted brown from dirt. Noses dripping with snot. No one wearing shoes. Kids playing with bottle caps and dirty plastic bags. Children eating plain-dirt-covered-potatoes. Pants so outgrown that they can't zip anymore. Dirt houses. Holes for toilets. Leaves for toilet paper.
Poverty.
But rarely do I see it anymore. Not because these conditions have disappeared, but perspective has shifted. Understanding is starting to take place. I mentioned this to another person here and they agreed! They don't see it anymore either!
Now there are just a bunch of free spirited little kids who don't NEED shoes. That dirt-tie-dyed-shirt-with-five-
holes-in-it, well, that is their favorite shirt...you can't take it away. The huts are cozy and so many amazing memories are made in their gates. The boiled potatoes fill your belly quick so you can play more. The use of leaves for toilet paper cuts down on the garbage. I still see poverty in the streets of the market and a few other places like this. But amidst the general population, the riches are endless.
However, I see suffering on a really regular basis at the hospital and this is where I've really seen the poor in spirit: the worst kind of poverty. I hate it when mothers weep over their dead babies. Hate it. I hate it that Rosalie has only one foot now and feels really discouraged that she'll never walk again. I hate it that nuero-sicknesses are simply hopeless here. I hate hearing the lady with hepatomegaly-liver swollen like a football crying out in pain during the night shift. I hate telling a family that their baby is REALLY not alive. BUT!!!! We are fighters against all this unfairness. We are lookers for something better. We are rooters for good. We are enjoyers of the sparkling, firey gifts that we HAVE been given.
I miss you all so much. Thank you so much for helping me come here. Can't thank you enough. Sincerely, Emily Star Wilkens
However, I see suffering on a really regular basis at the hospital and this is where I've really seen the poor in spirit: the worst kind of poverty. I hate it when mothers weep over their dead babies. Hate it. I hate it that Rosalie has only one foot now and feels really discouraged that she'll never walk again. I hate it that nuero-sicknesses are simply hopeless here. I hate hearing the lady with hepatomegaly-liver swollen like a football crying out in pain during the night shift. I hate telling a family that their baby is REALLY not alive. BUT!!!! We are fighters against all this unfairness. We are lookers for something better. We are rooters for good. We are enjoyers of the sparkling, firey gifts that we HAVE been given.
I miss you all so much. Thank you so much for helping me come here. Can't thank you enough. Sincerely, Emily Star Wilkens
Dinner is Hard Work
Pound. Blister. Heave. Ho. Pass. Next. Again. Pound.
I'm looking at blisters on my fingers from making dinner. I don't
cook a whole lot in the states, but I'm pretty sure that blisters
don't usually happen. We pounded rice for like an hour. Running
in the wind while pouring the mixture of rice and sheaths in one hand
to the bowl in your bottom hand. The wind carries away the sheaths
and the rice remains. Then all the cooking! But with these girls
it is just so fun. Their hands are SO tough. I am always jumping
in pain because the pot is too hot to hold. When we finally sit
down to eat that meal...wow....it was a good feeling.
Today, since I work nights, I was able to go to the rice fields and
work for the morning. Esther put a basin of water to carry on her
head, Jolie (my mother here) strapped little (not really that little
at all!) Armelle to her back and put some food for later on her head,
and I carried the tarp and cutting knife. Off we went. We
"tapped" rice for a long time, shaking all the rice off the
stalks. Then I napped under the tree for a while. Then we carried
bundles of rice to a central location in the middle of the
field. They don't sell any of this rice...its purpose is just to
feed the family for the whole year. I start work at 3 so I decided
to head back to the house. Armelle was tired and so I strapped her
to my back like an African! :) We started walking back to the town
of Bere and Armelle had fallen asleep in the first 15 minutes. So SWEET.
I was thinking about things that I want to take back to the states
with me. A few come right to mind right now. Eating off the same
plates. AWESOME. Strapping babies to your back. It will be a
while. :) Not worrying about getting a little dirty.
I am sure the list will be completed maybe a week before I come home.
I'm looking at blisters on my fingers from making dinner. I don't
cook a whole lot in the states, but I'm pretty sure that blisters
don't usually happen. We pounded rice for like an hour. Running
in the wind while pouring the mixture of rice and sheaths in one hand
to the bowl in your bottom hand. The wind carries away the sheaths
and the rice remains. Then all the cooking! But with these girls
it is just so fun. Their hands are SO tough. I am always jumping
in pain because the pot is too hot to hold. When we finally sit
down to eat that meal...wow....it was a good feeling.
Today, since I work nights, I was able to go to the rice fields and
work for the morning. Esther put a basin of water to carry on her
head, Jolie (my mother here) strapped little (not really that little
at all!) Armelle to her back and put some food for later on her head,
and I carried the tarp and cutting knife. Off we went. We
"tapped" rice for a long time, shaking all the rice off the
stalks. Then I napped under the tree for a while. Then we carried
bundles of rice to a central location in the middle of the
field. They don't sell any of this rice...its purpose is just to
feed the family for the whole year. I start work at 3 so I decided
to head back to the house. Armelle was tired and so I strapped her
to my back like an African! :) We started walking back to the town
of Bere and Armelle had fallen asleep in the first 15 minutes. So SWEET.
I was thinking about things that I want to take back to the states
with me. A few come right to mind right now. Eating off the same
plates. AWESOME. Strapping babies to your back. It will be a
while. :) Not worrying about getting a little dirty.
I am sure the list will be completed maybe a week before I come home.
2 Day Bike Rental
So the bike. Funny story. Yesterday Stephan found me and said,
"Emily, I made a mistake and sold you that bike. The person who owns
it is here to pick it up. You have to give it back." Here at the
hopsital people often don't have cash on hand to pay for their
surgeries or medicines. The hospital has a program where people can
bring a bike, a cart, or a big metal pot and put it on hold until
they can bring the money. Then, they can reclaim their item. Well,
after 2 months of something sitting there, the hospital is able to
sell it and pay off the debt of the patient. Stephan thought that
the bike was already 2 months old and so I bought the bike for 8000
francs which is about 16 dollars. Not a bad deal (granted it was a
fairly low end bike). Except there were alot of problems it. As I
wrote in an earlier email, I took the bike and got all the things
fixed on it. I invested another 10000 francs...another 20
dollars. The bike was wonderful! Even my family loved my pink
bike. So when Steffan said I had to take it back, that it turns out
that the bike was NOT 2 months old....all I could do was laugh. It
had been a wonderful two day rental of the bike. I took the bike to
the family as they waited outside the office of the hospital. I
watched their faces brighten up as they realized their old junk bike
had had a complete makeover. They didn't know what to say. I knew
they had no money to give me but they obviously were so
grateful. We took a picture together with the bike and as they were
leaving they thanked me so much. I wish I knew how to say, "pass
it on" in French. Maybe they'll pass the favor on
anyway. Meanwhile, I will miss my bike. I can't tell you how
excited I was. Good thing I didn't have any longer to get even more
attached to it.
"Emily, I made a mistake and sold you that bike. The person who owns
it is here to pick it up. You have to give it back." Here at the
hopsital people often don't have cash on hand to pay for their
surgeries or medicines. The hospital has a program where people can
bring a bike, a cart, or a big metal pot and put it on hold until
they can bring the money. Then, they can reclaim their item. Well,
after 2 months of something sitting there, the hospital is able to
sell it and pay off the debt of the patient. Stephan thought that
the bike was already 2 months old and so I bought the bike for 8000
francs which is about 16 dollars. Not a bad deal (granted it was a
fairly low end bike). Except there were alot of problems it. As I
wrote in an earlier email, I took the bike and got all the things
fixed on it. I invested another 10000 francs...another 20
dollars. The bike was wonderful! Even my family loved my pink
bike. So when Steffan said I had to take it back, that it turns out
that the bike was NOT 2 months old....all I could do was laugh. It
had been a wonderful two day rental of the bike. I took the bike to
the family as they waited outside the office of the hospital. I
watched their faces brighten up as they realized their old junk bike
had had a complete makeover. They didn't know what to say. I knew
they had no money to give me but they obviously were so
grateful. We took a picture together with the bike and as they were
leaving they thanked me so much. I wish I knew how to say, "pass
it on" in French. Maybe they'll pass the favor on
anyway. Meanwhile, I will miss my bike. I can't tell you how
excited I was. Good thing I didn't have any longer to get even more
attached to it.
Emotions...
I feel a little like my heart has gone on a trip recently. Like
someone played soccer with it and then rubbed it against a cheese
grater, and then gave it a nice warm bath and then gave it a birthday
party and then finished by making it run a marathon. Things here
make me feel and think things that I've never thought or felt
before. I didn't know I could FEEL like that.
It reminds me of the time that I played harp at a funeral right at
the head of an open casket. I played next to the body of a woman I
didn't know personally who had died of cancer. I wanted to cry
while playing but I knew I needed to play. I didn't know why I felt
that way since I didn't even know her at all. It was such a weird
emotion. It is a similar experience here of being flooded with new
emotions; some really happy, some really sad.
I bought my bike yesterday! I'll have to send some pictures
home...it will be a while...don't get your hope up too
soon. :) But Taylor! You would be so proud of me because this
bike was a piece of junk. I have cleaned it all up and it's like an
awesome antique light pink bike. New tires...pedals....seat. When
I first brought it home, my family seriously laughed so much at
me. The told me it was such a bad bike! :) Sabine laughed and
said, "I'm really sorry for you Emily." :) But then! One of
the boys in my family went to the market with me and pretended the
bike was his so this white girl wouldn't get ripped off. We got it
all fixed up and rode it home. There are two really awesome parts
to my bike. One is the bell. Yep! Mom you would love it. You
love bells on bikes. The other is the little platform on the back
where another person can sit and ride! I'm going to take it to the
river all the time now. There is one downside to the bike. It has
no breaks. It's not even like they are just broken....they just
don't exist. :) Of course chad is super flat so maybe I'm
safe. But this is the reason for the bell. Instead of stopping, I
simply ring the bell and everyone gets out of my way. Breaks are
not necessary in Chad. These small joyful things really shine up
this place that sometimes is so dark.
As I type now, it is Sabbath morning. I just walked over here to
the middle house after the night shift and now I'm quite tired. Our
whole church started walking to another village this morning. I
couldn't go because I worked until 8 am and they left at 7. But
this morning Ansley came to the hospital at 5 am and said that my
parents had called the phone that we share and were going to call
back soon. She is the sweetest. Seriously I'm so happy Ansley is
here. Quite a few times it has been Ansley that drops by randomly
at my house just to check on me. That first week when I was quite
discouraged and homesick here...Ansley was the best...and she
continues to be. But I got to talk to my Mom and Dad and
grandparents. SO GOOD. I had to say goodbye early because a lady
came in pregnant and unsure why she hadn't delivered yet. I called
the lab to come do a HIV test. This is something new we are doing
here for every delivery because the transmission can be
prevented. Then we called the midwife. She came and began using
the doppler to find the heartbeat. Nothing. Then she checked to
see how much the woman was dialiated and found the baby's head right
there. The baby was dead the mother was having no contractions. So
James came and they removed the baby that had been in the mother dead
for 3 days. This was the woman's first pregnancy. The family was so
excited as I talked to them before the midwife got there. A hard
morning for this family.
I came home the other day and it was just the two little kids at
home. Pabris (4) and Armelle (3). So I got out my paint set. We
set up a little art studio and they went to work. I also taught
them two colors in English: yellow and blue. It seriously took 30
minutes of asking them, "what is this?" and having them repeat after
me. Yikes I hope it doesn't take that long to teach my kids to talk
someday. :) They were so cute though and now they say,
"Yellooooowwww" and it cracks me up.
Hospitality is huge here. When someone comes into your courtyard,
you don't ask them who they are or what they want. First you get
them a chair, bring them tea, and THEN ask who they are. Pretty
neat. The marriage customs are very interesting as well. People
are very concerned that I am not married yet. Most of them were
married by 15 and had their first kid thereafter. You see, here,
boy meets girl, they like eachother, boy decides he wants to marry
girl, families MUST approve, boys father pays a large sum of money to
girls family, couple moves into the house of the father of the boy
where they live until father dies. This assures that the father can
observe this new marriage and make sure that boy treats girl right
and that girl supports boy and does her chores. Interesting. Noone
hugs here and as SM's we've made sure to give eachother an occasional
hug because we sometimes go for 2 weeks without one. The men hold
hands here in friendship and at first I thought that sexuality was
quite a bit more jumbled here in Africa. But now it has completely
taken on a new meaning. Women and men don't eat together and the
other night I went to one of the other SM's house for supper. I am
friends with the mother of the household and so when we all sat down
to eat, I thought she would join us. But she only sat off to the
side until the husband decided to GRANT her permission to come and
eat with us. Wow.
I'm still searching for the expression of love in this culture. I
guess everyone holds hands in loving friendship. But they don't
talk endearingly to each other, they don't hug each other, they don't
sit next to each other, you never catch them admiring who their loved
one is. Where is the love? I'm seeing it come out a bit
though. It's just so different. I am reading Inside Afghanistan and
John Weaver writes that the most important thing for helping another
culture is to understand what they already have in place. We often
come to some situation and say, "Oh, well they are missing shoes," or
"they don't read to their children at night." We think. They need
what I have. But the book talks about how in order to help someone,
you have to understand what their equivalents are. They have
callouses on their feet unlike Americans (we scrub ours off with
rough rocks). They lay under the stars with their children for 2
hours at night and bond like you've never seen. Once you understand
what things are already working well for these people, then you can
see what things are lacking. Differences are not necessarily deficiencies.
Adopting traditions! I hadn't thought about this much before but
traditions can be very enriching to a family or city. Culture is
DENSE here. Very preserved and honored. Even the young kids
continue to keep the culture alive. I thought to myself, "What is
my Wilkens culture?" I remembered that my family used to light a
candle in a little mini church on Friday nights. I remembered that
Christmas morning tradition says that everyone goes into my parents
room and opens stockings. I thought about how both my grandmas run
their fingers over our arms until we fall asleep. I thought about
how my dad eats orange slices on road trips. I think I like culture
and tradition more now than ever.
someone played soccer with it and then rubbed it against a cheese
grater, and then gave it a nice warm bath and then gave it a birthday
party and then finished by making it run a marathon. Things here
make me feel and think things that I've never thought or felt
before. I didn't know I could FEEL like that.
It reminds me of the time that I played harp at a funeral right at
the head of an open casket. I played next to the body of a woman I
didn't know personally who had died of cancer. I wanted to cry
while playing but I knew I needed to play. I didn't know why I felt
that way since I didn't even know her at all. It was such a weird
emotion. It is a similar experience here of being flooded with new
emotions; some really happy, some really sad.
I bought my bike yesterday! I'll have to send some pictures
home...it will be a while...don't get your hope up too
soon. :) But Taylor! You would be so proud of me because this
bike was a piece of junk. I have cleaned it all up and it's like an
awesome antique light pink bike. New tires...pedals....seat. When
I first brought it home, my family seriously laughed so much at
me. The told me it was such a bad bike! :) Sabine laughed and
said, "I'm really sorry for you Emily." :) But then! One of
the boys in my family went to the market with me and pretended the
bike was his so this white girl wouldn't get ripped off. We got it
all fixed up and rode it home. There are two really awesome parts
to my bike. One is the bell. Yep! Mom you would love it. You
love bells on bikes. The other is the little platform on the back
where another person can sit and ride! I'm going to take it to the
river all the time now. There is one downside to the bike. It has
no breaks. It's not even like they are just broken....they just
don't exist. :) Of course chad is super flat so maybe I'm
safe. But this is the reason for the bell. Instead of stopping, I
simply ring the bell and everyone gets out of my way. Breaks are
not necessary in Chad. These small joyful things really shine up
this place that sometimes is so dark.
As I type now, it is Sabbath morning. I just walked over here to
the middle house after the night shift and now I'm quite tired. Our
whole church started walking to another village this morning. I
couldn't go because I worked until 8 am and they left at 7. But
this morning Ansley came to the hospital at 5 am and said that my
parents had called the phone that we share and were going to call
back soon. She is the sweetest. Seriously I'm so happy Ansley is
here. Quite a few times it has been Ansley that drops by randomly
at my house just to check on me. That first week when I was quite
discouraged and homesick here...Ansley was the best...and she
continues to be. But I got to talk to my Mom and Dad and
grandparents. SO GOOD. I had to say goodbye early because a lady
came in pregnant and unsure why she hadn't delivered yet. I called
the lab to come do a HIV test. This is something new we are doing
here for every delivery because the transmission can be
prevented. Then we called the midwife. She came and began using
the doppler to find the heartbeat. Nothing. Then she checked to
see how much the woman was dialiated and found the baby's head right
there. The baby was dead the mother was having no contractions. So
James came and they removed the baby that had been in the mother dead
for 3 days. This was the woman's first pregnancy. The family was so
excited as I talked to them before the midwife got there. A hard
morning for this family.
I came home the other day and it was just the two little kids at
home. Pabris (4) and Armelle (3). So I got out my paint set. We
set up a little art studio and they went to work. I also taught
them two colors in English: yellow and blue. It seriously took 30
minutes of asking them, "what is this?" and having them repeat after
me. Yikes I hope it doesn't take that long to teach my kids to talk
someday. :) They were so cute though and now they say,
"Yellooooowwww" and it cracks me up.
Hospitality is huge here. When someone comes into your courtyard,
you don't ask them who they are or what they want. First you get
them a chair, bring them tea, and THEN ask who they are. Pretty
neat. The marriage customs are very interesting as well. People
are very concerned that I am not married yet. Most of them were
married by 15 and had their first kid thereafter. You see, here,
boy meets girl, they like eachother, boy decides he wants to marry
girl, families MUST approve, boys father pays a large sum of money to
girls family, couple moves into the house of the father of the boy
where they live until father dies. This assures that the father can
observe this new marriage and make sure that boy treats girl right
and that girl supports boy and does her chores. Interesting. Noone
hugs here and as SM's we've made sure to give eachother an occasional
hug because we sometimes go for 2 weeks without one. The men hold
hands here in friendship and at first I thought that sexuality was
quite a bit more jumbled here in Africa. But now it has completely
taken on a new meaning. Women and men don't eat together and the
other night I went to one of the other SM's house for supper. I am
friends with the mother of the household and so when we all sat down
to eat, I thought she would join us. But she only sat off to the
side until the husband decided to GRANT her permission to come and
eat with us. Wow.
I'm still searching for the expression of love in this culture. I
guess everyone holds hands in loving friendship. But they don't
talk endearingly to each other, they don't hug each other, they don't
sit next to each other, you never catch them admiring who their loved
one is. Where is the love? I'm seeing it come out a bit
though. It's just so different. I am reading Inside Afghanistan and
John Weaver writes that the most important thing for helping another
culture is to understand what they already have in place. We often
come to some situation and say, "Oh, well they are missing shoes," or
"they don't read to their children at night." We think. They need
what I have. But the book talks about how in order to help someone,
you have to understand what their equivalents are. They have
callouses on their feet unlike Americans (we scrub ours off with
rough rocks). They lay under the stars with their children for 2
hours at night and bond like you've never seen. Once you understand
what things are already working well for these people, then you can
see what things are lacking. Differences are not necessarily deficiencies.
Adopting traditions! I hadn't thought about this much before but
traditions can be very enriching to a family or city. Culture is
DENSE here. Very preserved and honored. Even the young kids
continue to keep the culture alive. I thought to myself, "What is
my Wilkens culture?" I remembered that my family used to light a
candle in a little mini church on Friday nights. I remembered that
Christmas morning tradition says that everyone goes into my parents
room and opens stockings. I thought about how both my grandmas run
their fingers over our arms until we fall asleep. I thought about
how my dad eats orange slices on road trips. I think I like culture
and tradition more now than ever.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
TIA. This Is Africa.
Hi Everyone!
So I have decided that there is this special
mystery of family dynamics that is uniquely
gifted to each family across the world. Living
with this African family has been the most heart
and eye opening experience. I have laughed more
genuinely with these people than I thought I
would ever be able to. I have wanted to hug the
mom (it's not culturally right though) so many
times and have absolutely given a bit of my heart
to little Pabris who walks with me to the
hospital every time I leave the house. He
insists that he open the door for even though he
is so little his arm doesn't reach the
latch. Izeedoor (13 yrs) always beats me to the
well to draw water up for my shower and Sabine(16
yrs) keeps this seriously look as if she is
really mature but cracks when I call her
Sabino. J Part of me wants to live with each of
YOUR families for a few weeks..understand how you
guys do your laundry, if you are grumpy in the
morning, do you eat pounds and pounds of a
certain food each week, who gets picked on, sit
in the places where you sit and see what you
think is funny. I thought to myself.why
couldn't we just bring people into our homes more
often. I guess it is a bit of an inconvenience
but if we made them part of our family.not like
some guest or visitor.the inconvenience would
become more of a contribution to the family
life.hopefully a good one. I get really excited
because I see a lot of neat lessons that we could
learn from each other. Maybe we could adopt a
grandma to come live with us just for two weeks
or something. Or maybe a kid who is having
problems in their own home.Or maybe a college
student who is searching for housing but need a
place to stay until then.or maybe just someone who is really bored!
Yesterday we played volleyball
because one of the visiting volunteers brought a
net! So fun. Today I went running again and as
I started out I looked behind me and there was
this woman running after me. I stopped and
greeted her and she said she wanted to run with
me. J I am used to the kids loving to run with
me but not so used to older, classier ladies in
dresses wanting to jog. But she was
fast!! J We ran to her house and she showed me
around. I just love how open people are
here. Then I continued with the kids. Some of
the kids got tired and we'd have to stop under
the mango trees. One little girl had her baby
sister tied around her waist and she was heading
up the gang!!! Crazy. They are really a strong breed of people.
I watched my first C-section
yesterday. The mother came in at the end of my
night shift and we realized that she was bleeding
already and her placenta was going to deliver
before the baby.quite a complication. So we took
the mother back in the operating room. Dr. Appel
went to the family and told them that they needed
to go pay quick because we needed to do the
surgery right away. They all just stood
there. They were all dressed so nice. They had
money. But no one moved a foot.
Many of you donated money to Chad in
order to pay for surgeries. I have had the
hardest time knowing how to put this money to use
in a really effective way because the people here
ALL say they don't have money.even when they
do. In their mind, why would they pay for
something if some rich white person will pay for
it? So I am brainstorming and praying about how
to find a way to put this money to use. Dr. Appel
got upset and said, "ok, we'll just wheel her
back out and she'll die." Finally, after a lot
of persuading, the family pulled out the
"non-existent money" from their pocket and the
C-section went on. I was pretty amazed and the
peeling back of layers of skin, muscle and
fascia. Then there was the baby! I love rubbing
these little babies to life right after they come
out; stimulating them by slapping their little
bodies. Then their tone turns from blue and
white to pink and dark brown. Their natural arm
reflexes start going and they cry. So so
sweet. I carried the baby out to the family and
they were thrilled to have a new baby boy. Worth all the money they spent.
It is hard for me to write about
experiences here because we don't have a lot of
internet time. But if you want to here more
stories about what is going on, visit Dr. James'
blog. He has more access to internet than me
and he gets to post there. Hopefully communication will get better.
Please pray hard for a little boy
named Poly here. My last night shift he bled
all night from his mouth. He has polyps in his
colon and we don't know how far up into the
intestines. He needs surgery and we have been
stocking up on a supply of O positive blood. He
is in so much pain though and his hemoglobin was
1 yesterday. This is so low and I don't know if
he will make it. We are waiting for antoher
surgeon who is very familiar with this
complicated surgery to get here. But please pray for Poly.
A quick update of some other happenings:
-buying a bike today from the hospital.
-climbing lots of guava trees to eat the guava.
-malaria has avoided me thus far!
-reading Inside Afganistan.incredible book.
-running to the river today!
-paid for peanut butter to be made.
-awesome SM's here. Most leaving in Nov. and Dec.
-a bat came into my hut last night.woke me
up.kept flying around.luckily I was safe in my mosquito net.
-I almost step on these huge frogs at night! They are everywhere.
-my family has no toilet..not even a hole to use.where do they go?
-3 of the SM's have malaria.
-1 has giardia.
-2 have colds.
-1 has ring worm.
-one has unnamed bacteria in his stomach.
-it's so hot here.
-working for now as a nurse: giving IV meds, shots, taking vitals.
-fed a baby for a long time yesterday. The baby
is so dehydrated that it has skin like an
elephant. The skin just stays however you form
it.doesn't bounce back like yours and mine.
-learning more and more French.
-watching stars every night!!! AWESOME.
- Love and miss you all. Thank-you so much for
helping me get here to Africa. It is in many
many ways exactly what I needed at this point in
life. I am so appreciative. Love you all. ~Emily
So I have decided that there is this special
mystery of family dynamics that is uniquely
gifted to each family across the world. Living
with this African family has been the most heart
and eye opening experience. I have laughed more
genuinely with these people than I thought I
would ever be able to. I have wanted to hug the
mom (it's not culturally right though) so many
times and have absolutely given a bit of my heart
to little Pabris who walks with me to the
hospital every time I leave the house. He
insists that he open the door for even though he
is so little his arm doesn't reach the
latch. Izeedoor (13 yrs) always beats me to the
well to draw water up for my shower and Sabine(16
yrs) keeps this seriously look as if she is
really mature but cracks when I call her
Sabino. J Part of me wants to live with each of
YOUR families for a few weeks..understand how you
guys do your laundry, if you are grumpy in the
morning, do you eat pounds and pounds of a
certain food each week, who gets picked on, sit
in the places where you sit and see what you
think is funny. I thought to myself.why
couldn't we just bring people into our homes more
often. I guess it is a bit of an inconvenience
but if we made them part of our family.not like
some guest or visitor.the inconvenience would
become more of a contribution to the family
life.hopefully a good one. I get really excited
because I see a lot of neat lessons that we could
learn from each other. Maybe we could adopt a
grandma to come live with us just for two weeks
or something. Or maybe a kid who is having
problems in their own home.Or maybe a college
student who is searching for housing but need a
place to stay until then.or maybe just someone who is really bored!
Yesterday we played volleyball
because one of the visiting volunteers brought a
net! So fun. Today I went running again and as
I started out I looked behind me and there was
this woman running after me. I stopped and
greeted her and she said she wanted to run with
me. J I am used to the kids loving to run with
me but not so used to older, classier ladies in
dresses wanting to jog. But she was
fast!! J We ran to her house and she showed me
around. I just love how open people are
here. Then I continued with the kids. Some of
the kids got tired and we'd have to stop under
the mango trees. One little girl had her baby
sister tied around her waist and she was heading
up the gang!!! Crazy. They are really a strong breed of people.
I watched my first C-section
yesterday. The mother came in at the end of my
night shift and we realized that she was bleeding
already and her placenta was going to deliver
before the baby.quite a complication. So we took
the mother back in the operating room. Dr. Appel
went to the family and told them that they needed
to go pay quick because we needed to do the
surgery right away. They all just stood
there. They were all dressed so nice. They had
money. But no one moved a foot.
Many of you donated money to Chad in
order to pay for surgeries. I have had the
hardest time knowing how to put this money to use
in a really effective way because the people here
ALL say they don't have money.even when they
do. In their mind, why would they pay for
something if some rich white person will pay for
it? So I am brainstorming and praying about how
to find a way to put this money to use. Dr. Appel
got upset and said, "ok, we'll just wheel her
back out and she'll die." Finally, after a lot
of persuading, the family pulled out the
"non-existent money" from their pocket and the
C-section went on. I was pretty amazed and the
peeling back of layers of skin, muscle and
fascia. Then there was the baby! I love rubbing
these little babies to life right after they come
out; stimulating them by slapping their little
bodies. Then their tone turns from blue and
white to pink and dark brown. Their natural arm
reflexes start going and they cry. So so
sweet. I carried the baby out to the family and
they were thrilled to have a new baby boy. Worth all the money they spent.
It is hard for me to write about
experiences here because we don't have a lot of
internet time. But if you want to here more
stories about what is going on, visit Dr. James'
blog. He has more access to internet than me
and he gets to post there. Hopefully communication will get better.
Please pray hard for a little boy
named Poly here. My last night shift he bled
all night from his mouth. He has polyps in his
colon and we don't know how far up into the
intestines. He needs surgery and we have been
stocking up on a supply of O positive blood. He
is in so much pain though and his hemoglobin was
1 yesterday. This is so low and I don't know if
he will make it. We are waiting for antoher
surgeon who is very familiar with this
complicated surgery to get here. But please pray for Poly.
A quick update of some other happenings:
-buying a bike today from the hospital.
-climbing lots of guava trees to eat the guava.
-malaria has avoided me thus far!
-reading Inside Afganistan.incredible book.
-running to the river today!
-paid for peanut butter to be made.
-awesome SM's here. Most leaving in Nov. and Dec.
-a bat came into my hut last night.woke me
up.kept flying around.luckily I was safe in my mosquito net.
-I almost step on these huge frogs at night! They are everywhere.
-my family has no toilet..not even a hole to use.where do they go?
-3 of the SM's have malaria.
-1 has giardia.
-2 have colds.
-1 has ring worm.
-one has unnamed bacteria in his stomach.
-it's so hot here.
-working for now as a nurse: giving IV meds, shots, taking vitals.
-fed a baby for a long time yesterday. The baby
is so dehydrated that it has skin like an
elephant. The skin just stays however you form
it.doesn't bounce back like yours and mine.
-learning more and more French.
-watching stars every night!!! AWESOME.
- Love and miss you all. Thank-you so much for
helping me get here to Africa. It is in many
many ways exactly what I needed at this point in
life. I am so appreciative. Love you all. ~Emily
Paths To Where I Am
Paths To Where I Am
-dropped off at airport.
-plugged computer in by miss makeup artist.
-got onto plane. Sat by the makeup artist.
-got a little fire for following dreams from her.
-talked about babies in China and her lip gloss line that she created.
-she gave me her card and said to contact her for help with money or
supplies in chad. >>
-Got off plane and had 6 hours before next flight.
-Asked a lady where transportation was.
-40 dollars for a taxi! Can't do that.
-Sweet funny lady said to go take a free airport shuttle and not tell them I wasn't staying at their hotel.
-Met Scotty the Comfort Inn shuttle driver.
-Begged for a ride. J
-Woman over heard I was going to Africa.
-Came and slipped me a twenty
-Rode with flight crew who laughed an awful lot at what I was doing J
-Got to the Comfort Inn and then walked over to the Safeway…then to
Wallgreens.
-Tripped real hard on the sidewalk right in front of traffic. Backpack threw me down. Humbling.
-Wallgreens photo shop boy is late…never comes.
-Walk to Panera. Eat a Salad and write home.
-Head back to Hotel.
-Ask them when the next shuttle is coming.
-Then Deb. From the flight crew. Comes down and hangs out with me.
-I get her email and we'll stay in touch.
-I go ask the new shuttle man to ask when his next run is going.
-He says. I'll take you now.
-I feel guilty about being the only one for his whole shuttle trip and he
doesn't even know that I am not staying at his hotel!
-So I tell him.
-He says it's fine that he doesn't have anything else to do. J
-People are so GOOD!
-He answers a call from his little daughter and says he has to take her
calls because she gets mad when he doesn't pick up. J Fatherly duties.
-Get back to airport.
-Stand in line with wonderful Ethiopian people!
-Talk to one boy and hear his dreams for being able to help people.
-Awesome.
-Cool girl who helps me figure out how to make my baggage come through.
-Go and meet Allison!
-Call Alex. His phone is dying! We are twins.
-Allison and I eat Pizza with our 15 dollar vouchers.
-Wait. Wait. Wait.
-Ansley gets there along with Jonah (sweetest boy), Mark, and Trudy. Such sweet people.
-Jonah shares all his toys with me.
-2 a.m. Get on plane. Allison gives me Ambien.
-Sleep all night. Really sleep. So nice.
-Wake up a few times.
-Man who I sit by is going to do food distribution in Ethiopia!
-Get up from my seat ONCE the whole 15 hour trip. I was so tired.
-Play heads or tails with Jonah and Tina (little Ethiopian girl)
-Land.
-Stand in three lines to get a hotel voucher. We've missed our connecting flight to Chad
-Get put up in a super nice hotel with free meals at restaurant in Addis.
-Chat with Adrienne and Alex on Gmail.
-Ask to stay in one room together. Get funny looks and people say, "Why
wouldn't you want your own rooms?" Anlsey resoponds, "We're Friends!"
-Love Ansley.
-Sleep on ROCK solid beds. Hehe
-Sleep All night.
-Get up and eat an Ethiopian breakfast.
-Head into town.
-Walk in and are flooded with help to get some passport pictures.
-PEOPLE are so GOOD!
-Took a taxi to the National Museum…saw funny things.
-Taxi Driver….CRAZY driver….no seatbelts.
-I asked him to drive safe. J
-Saw Zoo and Lions.
-Children begging.
-So many lame and hurt people.
-Naked babies.
-Hands so mangled they are just nubs for fingers.
-Housing so sad.
-Sad faces.
-People dragging themselves across the street with just arms. Legs don't work.
-Think.
-Taxi Drives us all around town.
-Come back to hotel and eat wonderful lunch.
-Come back to our room.
-Start watching a movie.
-Fall asleep for a nap.
-Wake up at 7 pm!!!
-Now I write to you all
-Flying out of Addis at 10 tomorrow morning.
-Will arrive in Chad.
-Will take 10 hour bus ride.
-Will take a 60 kilometer MOPED ride...with luggage...through the rains.
-Will settle into new home.
-dropped off at airport.
-plugged computer in by miss makeup artist.
-got onto plane. Sat by the makeup artist.
-got a little fire for following dreams from her.
-talked about babies in China and her lip gloss line that she created.
-she gave me her card and said to contact her for help with money or
supplies in chad. >>
-Got off plane and had 6 hours before next flight.
-Asked a lady where transportation was.
-40 dollars for a taxi! Can't do that.
-Sweet funny lady said to go take a free airport shuttle and not tell them I wasn't staying at their hotel.
-Met Scotty the Comfort Inn shuttle driver.
-Begged for a ride. J
-Woman over heard I was going to Africa.
-Came and slipped me a twenty
-Rode with flight crew who laughed an awful lot at what I was doing J
-Got to the Comfort Inn and then walked over to the Safeway…then to
Wallgreens.
-Tripped real hard on the sidewalk right in front of traffic. Backpack threw me down. Humbling.
-Wallgreens photo shop boy is late…never comes.
-Walk to Panera. Eat a Salad and write home.
-Head back to Hotel.
-Ask them when the next shuttle is coming.
-Then Deb. From the flight crew. Comes down and hangs out with me.
-I get her email and we'll stay in touch.
-I go ask the new shuttle man to ask when his next run is going.
-He says. I'll take you now.
-I feel guilty about being the only one for his whole shuttle trip and he
doesn't even know that I am not staying at his hotel!
-So I tell him.
-He says it's fine that he doesn't have anything else to do. J
-People are so GOOD!
-He answers a call from his little daughter and says he has to take her
calls because she gets mad when he doesn't pick up. J Fatherly duties.
-Get back to airport.
-Stand in line with wonderful Ethiopian people!
-Talk to one boy and hear his dreams for being able to help people.
-Awesome.
-Cool girl who helps me figure out how to make my baggage come through.
-Go and meet Allison!
-Call Alex. His phone is dying! We are twins.
-Allison and I eat Pizza with our 15 dollar vouchers.
-Wait. Wait. Wait.
-Ansley gets there along with Jonah (sweetest boy), Mark, and Trudy. Such sweet people.
-Jonah shares all his toys with me.
-2 a.m. Get on plane. Allison gives me Ambien.
-Sleep all night. Really sleep. So nice.
-Wake up a few times.
-Man who I sit by is going to do food distribution in Ethiopia!
-Get up from my seat ONCE the whole 15 hour trip. I was so tired.
-Play heads or tails with Jonah and Tina (little Ethiopian girl)
-Land.
-Stand in three lines to get a hotel voucher. We've missed our connecting flight to Chad
-Get put up in a super nice hotel with free meals at restaurant in Addis.
-Chat with Adrienne and Alex on Gmail.
-Ask to stay in one room together. Get funny looks and people say, "Why
wouldn't you want your own rooms?" Anlsey resoponds, "We're Friends!"
-Love Ansley.
-Sleep on ROCK solid beds. Hehe
-Sleep All night.
-Get up and eat an Ethiopian breakfast.
-Head into town.
-Walk in and are flooded with help to get some passport pictures.
-PEOPLE are so GOOD!
-Took a taxi to the National Museum…saw funny things.
-Taxi Driver….CRAZY driver….no seatbelts.
-I asked him to drive safe. J
-Saw Zoo and Lions.
-Children begging.
-So many lame and hurt people.
-Naked babies.
-Hands so mangled they are just nubs for fingers.
-Housing so sad.
-Sad faces.
-People dragging themselves across the street with just arms. Legs don't work.
-Think.
-Taxi Drives us all around town.
-Come back to hotel and eat wonderful lunch.
-Come back to our room.
-Start watching a movie.
-Fall asleep for a nap.
-Wake up at 7 pm!!!
-Now I write to you all
-Flying out of Addis at 10 tomorrow morning.
-Will arrive in Chad.
-Will take 10 hour bus ride.
-Will take a 60 kilometer MOPED ride...with luggage...through the rains.
-Will settle into new home.
For Every New Beginning Comes From Some Other Beginnings End
Here I am. I'm 22. I'm heading to Chad Africa to work at Bere Hospital for 6 months. I'll be working as a nurse-ish-like-sort-of-person learning: suturing, medicines, child delivery, TB care, malaria treatment and a different way of living. For those of you who know me, I'm impulsive, a slight bit disorganized, have a bad memory, a big fear of dogs, a little fear of the dark and have this itch inside me to please people. Those are some of the things God's going to have deal with this year. Just maybe our weaknesses He can turn into our strengths. Maybe he'll use us in our weakness. Maybe in our fear of failing, he'll remind us of what courage feels like and we'll step up to big, tough, scary tasks; be brave! Maybe he'll teach us to turn our worry into PETITIONS of prayer to Him. Maybe he'll create a story from our rough experiences that will be told from our open-book-selvesand inspire others. Weakness-Strength. I'm banking on it.
I arrived in DC at 3pm. I said goodbye to my parents and Alex at the airport (happy goodbyes right mom?) in Seattle after an awesome trip to the San Juan Islands, bikin' around. My mom snuck all sorts of things into my bags. I keep finding random things...like dolls, wooden giraffes, orange purses containing quarters and BARS of SOAP! You are funny mom. :) My flight to DC was great. Sat by Courtney, a makeup artist on her way to Paris. Follow our dreams...that's what she reminded me of. Thanks Courtney. :) The flight to Addis, ET was delayed from 8:30 p.m. until 2 a.m. Oh dear. So I decided to go into DC. I talked to a lady and she said taxi's were 40 bucks one way! Yikers! What a rip-off! So she recommended I try to bum a ride from one of the free airport shuttles. If you know me, you know I love free things. I lugged my huge backpack down almost a half a mile to the H2 station (hotel shuttle) and asked Scotty, the Comfort Inn driver man, when the next shuttle would leave. He said, "soon" and asked me what room I was at the hotel. "Err.....Umm....well I don't exactly have a reservation. Could I please have a ride though? I would like to leave the airport but taxis are expensive." He replied that he had nice bones in his body and let me get on. Another lady had overheard me talking a bit about Africa and came over to give me a $20 bill towards my trip. PEOPLE are GOOD! I met lots of nice people in DC. I ran into Deb, an airline stewardess who rode with me on the shuttle into DC. I hung out with her as I waited to sneak on another shuttle back to the airport. She was awesome and I wish her the best in her flights. I did some things in town..including tripping on the sidewalk infront of traffic with my huge backpack on. Max, the next shuttle driver, asked me where I needed to go. I told him I needed to catch a plane. He said, "alright, I'll take you." I felt bad though because I wasn't even staying at the hotel and I was going to be the only one on whole 10 person shuttle. Just me and Max. So I confessed. He smiled and said that he wasn't doing anything and that he'd take me. Once again. PEOPLE are GOOD!
The flight was not long considering I took a sleeping pill and was out the entire time. I got up once the entire 15 hours! haha My seat mate was one of a group going to do food distribution in ET. He couldn't figure out how I was sleeping so well. :)
We were delayed here on our way to Chad and I've spent the last day and a half with Anlsey Howe and Allison Rott in Addis Abbaba, the capital of Ethiopia. We've been put up in a hotel by the airlines and fed three meals a day of good rice, veggis, eggs, soup, fresh bread, salad, yogurt, hot cocoa. This morning went by taxi and then foot all over this town. It's a different world here. That's all I can say now. I'm starting to process all these things...I just wrote a paragraph about what is in my mind...but it's not clear yet. So many of you that I am writing to know exactly what I'm talking about and what I'll have to process. What about all these beggars. They are not beggars that are bumming money for drugs. These are legitamate needy people. What about all those sad lions at the ZOO...they looked so unhappy. What about my defensive mode? Is this how I should be? I think everyone is out to get me sometimes. That doesn't coincide with having a focus on others and not myself. Sort, sort, sort...file this thought here...dismiss this one....dwell on this one...this one matters...ah. This is just the beginning.
When trying to go places, we have to weave through the huge variety of people, run across traffic (it is crazy here. i thought we were going to hit people in our taxi so many times), jump over water trails...not sure what the water was. But something about it just makes me a bit wide-eyed and excited! It's like trekkin' all around :) I'm sitting at a coffee shop. We disguised ourselves with some of Ansley's head scarves and walked into town tonight. Noone even knew we were Americans! :) hehe But time to go to sleep. You guys are awesome friends, family and teachers. You gotta know that as I looked through the list and added you to this email, I felt like "WOW. these PEOPLE are GOOD!" Next time maybe I'll write to you from in my hut. Love Love Love, Emily Safe Star Wilkens.
P.S. I asked my taxi driver if he could please drive carefully because we didn't have seatbelts. :) See I am as careful as Fletcher..say with a broken leg and maybe with a baby in his backpack. Like really careful and cautious.
Irresistable Revolution: "I got very frustrated and angry, wondering how these extremes could exist in the same world, let alone in the same church. Sometimes I just got cynical. That was the easiest thing to feel, as cynicism takes very little energy." But just possibly, the JOY of the Lord can be our strength/energy to do more than feel cynical.
I arrived in DC at 3pm. I said goodbye to my parents and Alex at the airport (happy goodbyes right mom?) in Seattle after an awesome trip to the San Juan Islands, bikin' around. My mom snuck all sorts of things into my bags. I keep finding random things...like dolls, wooden giraffes, orange purses containing quarters and BARS of SOAP! You are funny mom. :) My flight to DC was great. Sat by Courtney, a makeup artist on her way to Paris. Follow our dreams...that's what she reminded me of. Thanks Courtney. :) The flight to Addis, ET was delayed from 8:30 p.m. until 2 a.m. Oh dear. So I decided to go into DC. I talked to a lady and she said taxi's were 40 bucks one way! Yikers! What a rip-off! So she recommended I try to bum a ride from one of the free airport shuttles. If you know me, you know I love free things. I lugged my huge backpack down almost a half a mile to the H2 station (hotel shuttle) and asked Scotty, the Comfort Inn driver man, when the next shuttle would leave. He said, "soon" and asked me what room I was at the hotel. "Err.....Umm....well I don't exactly have a reservation. Could I please have a ride though? I would like to leave the airport but taxis are expensive." He replied that he had nice bones in his body and let me get on. Another lady had overheard me talking a bit about Africa and came over to give me a $20 bill towards my trip. PEOPLE are GOOD! I met lots of nice people in DC. I ran into Deb, an airline stewardess who rode with me on the shuttle into DC. I hung out with her as I waited to sneak on another shuttle back to the airport. She was awesome and I wish her the best in her flights. I did some things in town..including tripping on the sidewalk infront of traffic with my huge backpack on. Max, the next shuttle driver, asked me where I needed to go. I told him I needed to catch a plane. He said, "alright, I'll take you." I felt bad though because I wasn't even staying at the hotel and I was going to be the only one on whole 10 person shuttle. Just me and Max. So I confessed. He smiled and said that he wasn't doing anything and that he'd take me. Once again. PEOPLE are GOOD!
The flight was not long considering I took a sleeping pill and was out the entire time. I got up once the entire 15 hours! haha My seat mate was one of a group going to do food distribution in ET. He couldn't figure out how I was sleeping so well. :)
We were delayed here on our way to Chad and I've spent the last day and a half with Anlsey Howe and Allison Rott in Addis Abbaba, the capital of Ethiopia. We've been put up in a hotel by the airlines and fed three meals a day of good rice, veggis, eggs, soup, fresh bread, salad, yogurt, hot cocoa. This morning went by taxi and then foot all over this town. It's a different world here. That's all I can say now. I'm starting to process all these things...I just wrote a paragraph about what is in my mind...but it's not clear yet. So many of you that I am writing to know exactly what I'm talking about and what I'll have to process. What about all these beggars. They are not beggars that are bumming money for drugs. These are legitamate needy people. What about all those sad lions at the ZOO...they looked so unhappy. What about my defensive mode? Is this how I should be? I think everyone is out to get me sometimes. That doesn't coincide with having a focus on others and not myself. Sort, sort, sort...file this thought here...dismiss this one....dwell on this one...this one matters...ah. This is just the beginning.
When trying to go places, we have to weave through the huge variety of people, run across traffic (it is crazy here. i thought we were going to hit people in our taxi so many times), jump over water trails...not sure what the water was. But something about it just makes me a bit wide-eyed and excited! It's like trekkin' all around :) I'm sitting at a coffee shop. We disguised ourselves with some of Ansley's head scarves and walked into town tonight. Noone even knew we were Americans! :) hehe But time to go to sleep. You guys are awesome friends, family and teachers. You gotta know that as I looked through the list and added you to this email, I felt like "WOW. these PEOPLE are GOOD!" Next time maybe I'll write to you from in my hut. Love Love Love, Emily Safe Star Wilkens.
P.S. I asked my taxi driver if he could please drive carefully because we didn't have seatbelts. :) See I am as careful as Fletcher..say with a broken leg and maybe with a baby in his backpack. Like really careful and cautious.
Irresistable Revolution: "I got very frustrated and angry, wondering how these extremes could exist in the same world, let alone in the same church. Sometimes I just got cynical. That was the easiest thing to feel, as cynicism takes very little energy." But just possibly, the JOY of the Lord can be our strength/energy to do more than feel cynical.
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