Finding Joy In Africa

A few of my friends have this linked to their blog, and I love these thoughts. (Not written by me, but these thoughts are said so well).  For more, check out mochaclub.org 

When I think of Africa, the following images immediately come to mind: Starvation. AIDS. Child soldiers. Genocide. Sex slaves. Orphans. From there, my thoughts naturally turn to how I can help, how I can make a difference. "I am needed here," I think. "They have so little, and I have so much." It's true, there are great tragedies playing out in Africa everyday. There is often a level of suffering here that is unimaginable until you have seen it, and even then it is difficult to believe. But what is even harder is reconciling the challenges that many Africans face with the joy I see in those same people. It's a joy that comes from somewhere I cannot fathom, not within the framework that has been my life to this day.

The images spilling out of my television showed circumstances that could seemingly only equal misery, and I was fooled. I bought into the lie that circumstance defines happiness. The truth is, in Africa I find hearts full of victory, indomitable spirits. In places where despair should thrive, instead I find adults dancing and singing, and children playing soccer with a ball crafted of tied up trash. Instead of payback, I find grace. Here, weekend getaways are not options to provide relief from the pains of daily life. Relationships and faith provide joy. Love is sovereign.

My new reality… I know now that my joy should have no regard for my circumstances. I'm ashamed by my lack of faith, but at the very same moment I am excited by my new pursuit. I'm forced to redefine the meaning of having much or having little. I'm uneasy with the prospect of change and of letting go, but just the thought of freedom is liberating. I want what I have learned to trickle down from my head into my heart - I no longer want to need the "next thing" to have joy.

I'm not saying that Africa does not need our efforts. It absolutely does need our partnership. But for me, I've come to understand that I need Africa more than Africa needs me. Why? Because it is Africa that has taught me that possessions in my hands will never be as valuable as peace in my heart. I've learned that I don't need what I have and that I have what I need. These are just a few of this continent's many lessons. I came here to serve and yet I've found that I have so much to learn, and Africa, with all its need, has much to teach me.

Many in the west think Africa is simply an object of charity. This mindset does not breed true compassion. And there's something about truth… when it becomes clear, it hits you in a way that is hard to ignore. The same is true with people. If we invest in knowing someone, love is the automatic response. We can't all make a trip across the ocean, but we can seek to have a conversation that recasts the images that force pity over partnership. Why do you need Africa more than Africa needs you?

The Reality Of Life Where There Is No Health Care

As I sit with them in their shared hospital room, their eyes exude hope. A hope yearning for acceptance from a society that has previously cast them out. They chatter to me in excitement about the possibility of husbands who will provide for them again one day. They giggle over how happy they will be when they return to their village and get to experience community. This is a love they haven’t known for a very long time, as they’ve been dealt a cruel fate thus far in life.

These women are the modern day lepers of Africa- women with Vesico Vaginal Fistulas, commonly known as VVF. A disease unknown in the western world, solely because it is a disease of poverty.

 In her childhood years she is malnourished. With little food to eat, she doesn’t grow well. Instead of attending school, she does physical labor every day, carrying water, food, or wood for miles on end. Or she farms in the sweltering heat. With the increased physical labor and the lack of nourishment she remains small. Too small. At a young age she is married off and becomes pregnant. Elated over the opportunity to bring life into this world, an act that deems her worth here in Africa, her baby cannot fit through her pelvis. After a labor that lasts at first hours, then days, and no healthcare to help relieve the labor, the baby may die. With too much pressure for too long, her uterus is now damaged. So she leaks urine. Or even worse, feces as well. She avoids drinking to avoid the trickle down the inside of her thigh and onto the floor. She gets skin infections from the thick urine that does run down her legs. You can smell her stench ten feet away, and she leaves a trail wherever she goes. She cannot work due to social embarrassment. Eventually she is asked to move outside the house. Her husband may find a new wife, one who is not “cursed”, and she’ll live alone, away from society, with much time to contemplate why she has to endure this life, or rather, this existence. Living like this, well you can’t even call it a life.

This is the reality of so many VVF ladies. We have sixty+ beautiful ones who have come to our ship to be healed. Here they will each get an operation to stop their constant leaking. Often, the damage is so severe that there is little viable tissue to use for repair. Or perhaps they’ve had many previous repair attempts, which decreases their chance of success this time around. So while some will leave dry, others will leave feeling defeated and confused as to why the operation wasn’t successful. We will all share in this together.

Yesterday I went to our off ship clinic to teach these women who have endured so much more than I will ever know. As we were talking about post-op exercise restrictions one older woman started to cry. When asked why, she explained that despite my suggestion to avoid walking long distances for six weeks (wounds need to heal), she needed to walk right away upon her return to her village. Without her ability to walk, she could not work, and without work she had no money to eat. She has no family and no friends to let her rest for a while, and no one to provide her with such a basic necessity as food. She is completely alone.

I sat there for a second and then I started to tear up. Every day this week the harsh reality of poverty here has slapped me in the face. While I know that the poor will always be amongst us, it’s definitely hitting home. Mercy Ships is treating these sixty some ladies here on the ship, but the truth of the matter is that there are over two million more who live like this in shame every day of their lives.  What's even sadder is that if all these women with obstructed labor could have access to a c-section within three hours, there would be no obstetric VVF ladies in existence. It is truly a disease defined by poverty, an overwhelming lack of resources.  The chasm between the rich and the poor grows vastly larger by the day here.

Sometimes it’s frustrating. When prevention is the key and the need is so great, it’s easy to get wrapped up in the numbers and ask what difference will it make?  Sixty ladies amongst millions? But then I am reminded of this woman who cried today, and I know, it makes a huge difference for her. I ache with love for her, and for the others. I ache over the hope deferred from the surgeries that fail, and I ache for what every woman has endured to get here. Please pray with me, that each and every surgery here is an overwhelming success. Pray that every woman does get a new chance at life - a chance to have a community where she is welcomed, and most importantly where she is loved. May their stories be a testament to the fact that we serve a big God who can do big things. A God who can heal not only these sixty women, but each of us as well.

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. ~ Psalm 147:3

What's for dinner?

My Friday's Favorite this week came across my desk when one of the nurses said to me "as the dietitian here Kelly, I thought you should see this food restriction." Look closely toward the bottom....

Yes, perhaps not as fun as the "no snake" food restriction we got back at the beginning of the outreach.  But nonetheless, with the assumption by this patient that we might actually serve him dog meat, well, I hope that here on the Africa Mercy we are a little classier than that! =) 

Mercy Ships Glee...with some Hope and Healing

Last weekend we had the Mercy Ships Annual Film Festival onboard. It turned out to be a really good time, as there are quite a few creative minds here on the Africa Mercy. We all got dressed up for the viewing of the films, and there was even an awards ceremony afterward.  Sadly, our video didn't win any major awards, but we had a really great time putting it together.  A few of us decided to do a spoof on the popular TV show Glee. I am still working on getting the video online (as we can't upload large files onboard) but in the meantime here is our Glee Poster - Africa Mercy style! 

 

In the meantime, I do have the link to the very well-done winning video of the film festival.  It's a light-hearted look at "bringing hope and healing." (The Mercy Ships motto)....Enjoy!

Click here to watch the video

Espoir - A Story of Hope

Football! Just the mention of the word grabs the attention of four-year-old Espoir. A bright and very active little boy, Espoir lives in Togo, West Africa. His mother says that he " jumps everywhere all the time . " He arrived on the Africa Mercy like a bolt of electricity - energizing the entire ward.

Espoir was born with bowed legs that made him the target of teasing from the children in his first-grade class. They said his legs looked like the letter " O ." Espoir always responded, "I'm just like you!" He never let them see how their words hurt him, and he never let them discourage him. He even played a forward position on his football (soccer) team.

 

When Espoir's mother heard a television announcement about a hospital ship that was coming to Togo to provide free surgeries, she brought Espoir to a screening. Soon he was onboard the Africa Mercy for the life-transforming surgery that would straighten his legs and put an end to the cruel ridicule.

Espoir is uncharacteristically still as he lies quietly in bed, recuperating with both legs straight and bandaged. He has found creative ways to keep his mind busy while his body recovers - practicing the alphabet, coloring pictures, and singing all the verses of his repertoire of songs and hymns.

His infectious joy spills out in giggles when the nurses slip the stethoscope into his ears so he can hear his heartbeat. When asked what he wants to be when he grows up, he flashes a brilliant smile and quickly responds, " I want to be a pastor!"  But for right now, he is eager to get back to his football team. " I want to go to school quickly ," he asserts. " I want to show them that I am okay now."

Here he is - happy and balancing on his new, straight, casted legs.

 Appropriately, Espoir means "hope" in French. His mother says, " I named him that because I have hope for him - hope for him to be a missionary one day and help the poor like he's been helped ."

Just another day in the ward bathroom...

My Friday's favorite this week comes from the deck 3 ward bathroom just outside the hospital.  Many day volunteers (the local Africans that we hire while we are here) use this bathroom on a regular basis.  I normally don't use this bathroom so when I went in there earlier this week for the first time, I came across these lovely picture-signs that I thought were worth sharing.

 

In case you were thinking of going wild in the bathroom now you know not to.  By the way, a day volunteer did wash her laundry in the toilet water during this outreach already...just in case you were wondering! =)

African Plumbing

My Friday's favorite this week is this picture taken last weekend in Grand Popo, Benin: 

Joanna brushing her teeth - not with the water coming out of the sink (as the sink, toilet and shower didn't work in our room) but just with the water coming out of this little hole in the wall.  How's that for some quality African plumbing?

The plumbing wasn't the only fun part. 

We utilized these nice mosquito nets in our room in this sleepy resort town just over the Togo/Benin border.

The weather wasn't ideal, so we hung out, played games and got to know each other a little better.  Even with all the African odditites, Scott, Becca, Joanna, Nick and I had a nice and relaxing weekend away in Benin!