African Adventures

Africa is a world of extremes. A world that simultaneously holds incredible life, beauty, and wonder, along with immense pain and suffering. My life here consists of constant exposure to both sides of this spectrum at times in the same view, the same thought, the same experience.

When not working, our main objective is usually to get off the ship- to explore the world off of this floating metal box in which I live. We search the guide books, ask the locals of their opinions, their experiences to find our next adventure… to climb a mountain, to feel the water from a majestic towering waterfall pound on our skin, to feel the fresh African wind against our face- to find our next high.

The last few weeks in Togo have been full of adventure. A few weeks ago we left for a trip to Kpalime- many say this is the most beautiful place in Togo. It holds a few waterfalls that dance off of green mountains into lagoons below. Mt Agou- the tallest peak in Togo is also in Kpalime. Many people call Mt. Agou home as they build their villages along the steep hillside. We hiked this mountain on a Sunday, each step accompanied by the rhythmic sound of the djembe, African voices worshiping God in their chapels, and children shouting their greetings as we walked on by. Goats along the hillside resting in the shade, butterflies filling the forest air- every square inch of this place is bursting with life and beauty.

A young girl from a village on Mt. Agou doing the family laundry

We love Togo!

A colorful resident from Mt. Agou
We all took zemijeans to the top of a nearby peak to look out over Togo and into Ghana. The ride was about a half hour to make it up the mountain on a dirt road surrounded by a canopy of treetops with the occasional window in the vegetation to reveal a sea of green below. It was quite a memorable ride as we watched the sun go down on Kpalime to tuck itself away for the night and allow the stars to fill the night sky with their beauty. The sun coming up on Atakpame
My next weekend off we decided to head to a village 3 hours north of Lome called Atakpame. Upon arriving we asked the local people what they recommended doing and they told us about a nearby lake where hippos live. We left the following morning at 4:30- an early start, but absolutely worth it. We watched the sun come up during out 2 and a half hour ride on a motorbike. The trip entailed a stop at the nearby village chief’s house to ask him for permission to enter their lake. We got to the lake and then took a canoe to come across a hippo with her young walking on land and into the lake. I knew this was a special moment when the locals guiding us got excited about this saying that it was extremely rare to see the hippos out of water. We traveled a total of 5 hours roundtrip via motorbike to get about 30 seconds of hippos, but yet again totally worth the trip.
Hippo tracks!

Kelly and I taking a canoe to see hippos

Hippos!... From a distance
On our way back to Lome we took a local 15-seater taxi- me and six other friends. The first few minutes of this ride were pretty comfortable and spacious, but soon to change. Within a few miles I felt as though we were in a circus car, filled beyond the max capacity- the moment you believe the car cannot fit anymore people, in come several more, baggage and all. Our three hour ride back to Lome in the 15-seater van ended up providing transportation for 21 people, 2 chickens, a cat, and a live goat on the roof…. A perfect inspiration for a sing-a-long song:

The chickens in the van go, “baak, baak, baak…”
The cat in the van goes, “meow, meow, meow…”
The goat on the roof goes, “eeeehhh, eeehhh, eeehhh…”
The children outside shout, “yovo, yovo, yovo”
Christina in the van says, “Just get us there safely…”
…. Alllllll the waaaaaay to town
The passenger next to me: the proud owner of a chicken

Looking out my window: The shadow of the man tying the goat to the roof

A family that invited us in during a walk along the beach. Cooked for us and we spent the day with them.

The family's home water source. Our visit included a lesson on how to draw the water- involved more skill than I thought.

The back of a restaurant in Atakpame... showing us how to make fufu
The patients bring the beauty of Africa to the ship. A few days ago I was working the evening shift and noticed a translator come into D ward and take a small drum and leave- I smiled as I knew an impromptu African sing and dance party was about to start. This is worth dropping the task part of my job, the things that can be done later even if this means I have to stay late- to witness African community life.

A party began in B ward. Everyone with an instrument- a drum, an aya (a beaded shaker), a metal coin to beat against the floor, or their hands clapping together- they do not have much, but what they do have is put together to make the most incredible rhythmic and lively music. The women gather in a circle, each one taking their turn to come into the middle to dance and be cheered by the others. A few of us nurses joined in the circle and attempted to move our bodies as they do- barely coming close, but they all loved and welcomed this. They all took off one of the skirts wrapped around their waists and wrapped it around us- a sign of friendship, of acceptance. They cheered us on and showed us how they have a good time. My heart rejoices in these moments- to be a part of their lives, to be welcomed and accepted by them. We are very different people- with backgrounds that cannot be more different, but we can both understand a language of love, of friendship, of life.

…but even in all the magnificence it is impossible to ignore the reality of this place. Coupled with the beauty are signs everywhere that I live on a broken planet- The zemijean driver that tells me his only wish for his life is to own his own motorbike so he can make more than a day’s worth of wages each week. He now has to give what he earns the other six days to his boss. He can barely make ends meet as he makes but a mere $30 a month.

The naked starving children with sticks for legs that hold up pot bellies (enlarged from a lack of protein in their diets) sitting next to mama as she works all day at her stand selling stolen petrol to make a living.

The people willing to wait in line for hours under the African sun as they are barely in good enough health to stand- to see a few doctors and nurses from the west that may just say yes.

The Beninese man emaciated and dying of cancer who made the trip from Benin knowing the ship, his only hope, would eventually arrive in Togo waited in the streets of Lome without shelter for ten days- also during a time of heavy rainfall.

It is all a learning process for me- to learn how to take in the beauty and enjoy it- to allow the emotions felt from the suffering I see to drive my passion and not discourage. To be content with the work I am here to do. I recently was in a discussion with a few friends and one was asking the other, “But, how do you not become overwhelmed? How is it that you have not given up on this place- don’t you ever feel like no matter how much work you do it will never be enough?” And the other replied, “All each one of us is called to do is our part. If everyone does their part, all will come together as it should.”

Warm in Africa Again

Finally… my heart is warm in Africa again. After eleven days of sailing the Atlantic along the west coast of Africa with its many swells, winds, and crashing waves we arrived in the port of Lome, Togo. Warmly welcomed by drums, trumpets, and singing and dancing people- this is our home for the next 6 months- such a beautiful country full of beautiful people… yet oh so full of need.

Leah and I sweaty, but happy to be in Africa again

As soon as we pulled into port the process began of setting up the hospital to prepare for the surgeries planned for the outreach. We cleaned every square inch of the hospital, stripped and waxed floors, and set up each ward to accommodate the patients that would soon come.

The Africa Mercy Nursing Staff

During the next six months, our beds will be full of those in need of orthopedic, maxillofacial, vesicovaginal fistula repair, and some general surgeries… And I become excited for the hospital to come alive again.. to see the children in their hospital gowns playing soccer in the hallways, the rhythmic sound of the djembe accompanied by singing and dancing, the mother crying with joy as she sees her child come back from surgery with a beautiful newly formed smile… the African people bring so much life to the ship.

The process begins with screening days- where the Togolese people in need of medical assistance gather to see if there is a chance they will receive treatment. The crowds were full of those unable to see, people with massive tumors and facial disfigurements- eyes full of pain from years of rejection and isolation. Mothers were carrying their children with limbs so contorted the child has never known what it is to walk. For many living in Togo- a country where over 50% of the population lives below the international poverty line of $1.25 a day, this is their only hope for a better life.

A crowd of people waiting to be screened

My job during one of the screening days was to “pre-screen”. This is the very first process of screening. Those in line with ailments that the ship has no ability to treat are told that we will not be able to help them. This was a hard job to do- the disappointment was tangible, everyone has their own story of pain, suffering, and wishing for a better life... but this was just another “no” for people that are all too used to being told no. And so I continued my job of screening, but I knew at the end of the day I would need time to process what happened. Time to grieve the pain I saw and the people we turned away... time to pray for healing in their lives- whether that be physical or not. Time to hand the emotions felt from this experience to He who is greater than me.

There were many in line who had lost use of one or more limbs from burn contractures, those born with leg malformations severely limiting their ability to walk, if able to walk at all. I saw those whose faces disfigured by massive tumors were hidden behind a scarf or handkerchief- with just the eyes visible, but downcast to the ground as they have been taught through many years of being an outcast that they are simply too hideous to show their face in public… And I was able to be the first to tell these people, “yes, we would like to try and help you” and point them to the tent for the next stage of screening. What a joy to witness their reaction, to see their faces become full of relief and hope that this may be the day that their life is changed.

One of our first patients accepted for surgery, happy to be holding her patient card in hand

And now the hospital has been open for a full week. We have done a few surgeries already and things have been running pretty smoothly. I am so happy to be a nurse again. It feels good. It feels right.

I am so honored to be here, so grateful for the experience of being a part and a witness to the help given to the Togolese people. I want to thank the many that have prayed for me, encouraged and supported me, and helped make this possible. I have learned so much here and my life has already been changed by this experience. My heart feels so alive here- and I am now convinced that I need Africa more than Africa needs me.

Eleven Days of an Ocean Safari

On December 8th the mooring lines were pulled and the crew of the Africa Mercy said goodbye to Benin. There were many gathered to bid us farewell, local staff that we worked with and crew that would go to Togo to prepare for the ship’s arrival in February. We said our goodbyes and promised to stay in touch… and all of our hearts were filled with excitement for the days ahead of us.

Everyday had its fill of magnificence- few were the hours we spent inside. With all of our free time it was to the bow or deck seven or eight to see what kind of manifestation of beauty the day held. Our views were full of flying fish, dolphins, whales, water spouts, incredible sunsets- only to be followed by a sky full of twinkling stars which included a few nights of meteor showers… Pure ocean bliss.

I thoroughly enjoyed the sail- being surrounded by beauty and good company… but by the eleventh day most of us were ready to step foot on dry land again and explore beautiful Tenerife- and by our first sight of the island, I knew that it would not disappoint. Viva españa! :) View from the dock

Tour of a Beninese Public Hospital

Several weeks ago I was working with a friend of mine named Jean who was a translator during our outreach in Benin. I have always enjoyed working with the translators and hearing their opinions on aid, politics, and the current problems Africa faces. He began to tell me of the health care available to the common public of Benin, and I simply could not believe what he told me. I asked him if he could give me a tour of a local hospital to get a better understanding of the things he spoke of….

Several friends and I met Jean at a local public hospital one afternoon for our tour. He first brought us to the emergency room. Two armed guards in camouflage uniforms guarded the double doors that led to another world none of us had ever seen before: a world where words alone cannot express the brokenness and despair we saw that day.

The doors were opened and we stepped inside to be immediately hit by hot and humid stagnant air covered in the smell of bleach with constant alarms going off in the background. People were lying on the floor in all corners
of the room waiting to be attended to. A man obviously delirious after being in a zemijean (motortaxi) accident was trying to climb off his stretcher while his family member held him down. Surrounding us there was an obvious need for immediate attention, but there was almost no staff to be seen- no one in a hurry to help.

We were brought through examining rooms, and found more patients waiting. We walked toward the back of the ER to find a man on a stretcher breathing rapid and shallow breaths, his eyes rolling back in his head. He was lying there with just a thin cloth covering him and the room was full with the unmistakeable smell of death and decaying flesh. Flies swarmed and surrounded his right leg which was partially amputated from a traumatic zemijean accident and was in immediate need of full amputation. He was lying in his own excrement- left to die an undignified death. We were all so appalled by this sight and we all asked, how can this be?

One of the hospital staff, a nurse, allowed us to ask questions and answered us as we stood in shock and disbelief. This man represents a dire problem in Benin and his case is not uncommon. He was in a motorcycle accident and was brought to the hospital for medical care, but as he had no money, he was unable to receive help. Efforts were made to contact family to get funds for treatment, but until they arrived with the money in hand he would remain untouched by the hospital staff… the day we arrived was his tenth day of waiting for help.

The nurse told of us of how the hospital was severely lacking in medical supplies and in order to be treated, the patient must cover all expenses, including the medications needed. If the patient needed IV fluids, they must buy them, including the needles, IV tubing, and all. The pharmacy sells these medications and supplies at a price that many cannot afford… this problem explains the IV tubing (usually without it’s wrapping to ensure sterility) sold on the streets.

He answered our questions regarding the apparent lack of staff and told us that along with subpar working conditions, the pay was next to nothing leaving staff to go on strike. He told us the hospital is usually run with a ratio of one nurse to 50 patients or more- an appalling condition for a hospital ER.

We were brought through all of the hospital: the lab, patient ward, and various other areas, but the dying man left alone on the stretcher laid an impression on my heart- I truly realized at this point that life for the average Beninese is truly a hard life… which I knew, but this was the moment that it really sunk in.

God, help me to see these people as you do. May I not get lost in the suffering I see, but see a vision of hope and a future for them. May I practice what I preach. May I not rely on my own strength. When I am driven to frustration, may I not place judgement. Teach me how to love them- and may I choose love in every situation. God, give me the heart you have for Africa.

“You came for the lost, the sick, and the blind with salvation and hope
You gave to us freely so what will we do with this treasure we hold?
Let justice roll on like a river
Let mercy shine bright as the sun
Take care of the orphan and widow
Take care of our own flesh and blood
Because this is the way that You called us to love
To share what we have with the hungry and poor
Put clothes on the naked and heal the broken and torn
True Religion”

Lyrics by Ryan Delmore: True Religion

My Everyday Job.

Working onboard the Africa Mercy is much different that anything I have ever experienced… Patients from Benin, Togo, Nigeria, and Ghana come in hopes that they may be helped. Any given day, one can walk in the hospital to find many lives afflicted with different conditions, but all with similar stories: stories of living with a debilitating condition and the inability to find and or receive healthcare.

A boy treated this year on the Africa Mercy for removal of his tumor

Working here on the Africa Mercy, I have the privilege to witness lives being changed on a day to day basis- disfigurements being removed, the lame given the ability to walk, sight given to those blinded by cataracts. Babies coming severely malnourished, many with a cleft lip and or palate and their lives are truly saved through the work done here.

The patients not only have to cope with their physical ailment, but many times something that can be much more devastating: the attached stigma. A common view held here in Benin of those with disfigurements is that they are under the power of a curse, which many times is enough to be shunned from their community.

Before, during, and after treatment: An example of one of the many lives changed.

Something I find the most heart-breaking about my time working in the hospital are the children that have to suffer because of this. Regularly we see babies come in with a cleft lip and or palate that are severely malnourished- most of the time disabling them from being able to suck properly. Coupled with the mother’s reluctance to feed the baby (many times due to beliefs of the baby being cursed) babies present to us with six to nine months of life weighing below a normal birth weight, sometimes barely holding on to life. So much pressure is placed on these mothers, many of whom have just become of child bearing age. If the mother does decide to feed the baby, her decision may be met with strong opposition from the community. When mama and baby come in, it becomes obvious that there is a lack of bonding and much teaching is required to help these mothers take care of their babies properly. But how do you teach a mother that does not have much of a desire to learn about her child? A mother who has not yet decided whether or not she wants to keep her baby or leave it to die?

A patient I took care of with Leishmaniasis, a condition rare to the developed world, but more commonly found in Sub-Saharan Africa caused by a flesh eating parasite. We gave her treatment for the parasite and she will return to the ship for facial reconstruction.

This aspect of the work here I find the most challenging and heart breaking. How do you convince someone that life is beautiful; that life is not expendable and its value is intrinsic? I do have hope for these people and believe in the work being done. I pray that through our efforts, we may show the people here, our patients that life is valuable. We are here to serve them and love them regardless of the way they look. We encourage mother and baby bonding and congratulate the mother on how beautiful her baby is… and from time to time us nurses are given the privilege to hold the babies which we take great and obvious joy in. Our mission is to transform lives by love- and on occasion I am given the opportunity to witness this happen before my very eyes.

A tumor removed from a patient I worked with who watched his tumor grow over the years until he was finally able to receive treatment.

Everyday the work here is challenging and rewarding- and from time to time heartbreaking. Everyday I see lives being changed and through my time here, my heart’s burning desire to serve those less fortunate has been confirmed. I am thankful for the privilege to be here, all the things I am learning, and the honor of being able to serve these people in love.

Journey to the Africa Mercy

The original plan was to leave for Benin immediately following our field service, but the plan changed as the government in Benin required us to have a two week quarantine after being in the D.R. due to the swine flu outbreak. So Becca, Leah, and I decided to extend our layover in Paris from a couple hours to eight days to meet the quarantine regulations… and this trip was amazing! We visited France, Germany, and Switzerland and had an amazing time together (and I do want it to be known that our time in Europe was not funded with donations).

And now… I am on my fourth day of ship living in Cotonou, Benin. And Africa began as soon as I stepped foot off the plane. We got to customs and it was chaos… people sitting on the floor filling out their paperwork. We had to wait two hours to collect our bags as people were crowded around the luggage belts and no direction as to which belt the luggage would appear.

Yesterday I started my first day of orientation in the hospital aboard the ship. I come with a two year background of working with adults in an ICU setting and have not worked with children since nursing school. I always thought maybe one day when I am more comfortable in my nursing shoes, much further in my career of course, maybe then I will elect to work with children… but for now I enjoy the adults… and then for my first day of ICU orientation my patient is a nine month old baby boy.

A very sad story. The baby was born with a cleft lip and palate- which in many cases is reason to leave a baby for dead. The whole family (mom, dad, and sister) has scars on their cheeks which is a voodoo practice and signifies a certain tribal bloodline. Mom and dad have chosen not to mark baby Hubert as they are undecided whether or not to accept him into the family or disown him. Baby Hubert is struggling for his life and the medical team is working around the clock to keep him alive. We hope to bring him back to health in order give him the surgery he needs to repair his lip and palate, but his little body is fighting against many factors. He came to us malnourished and fighting malaria. The team was able to get some weight on his little bones and treat the malaria which left him immunosuppressed and now he is fighting another illness. This story sounds so tragic to me, but from what I hear this is common...

Baby Hubert's Big Sister

I know my time here aboard the Africa Mercy is going to be challenging and I am going to be stretched, but this is my heart's desire: to help those less fortunate, the least of this world, the forgotten poor... So here I am, a little nurse from Phoenix, Arizona just beginning my great escape out of my everyday life in the suburbs to embark on a journey for which my heart has been dreaming of for years...

Dominican Republic Field Service

Following four weeks of training in Texas, eleven of us left for our field service (which is also part of Gateway training) in the Dominican Republic. We arrived to Puerto Plata in July knowing that we had several projects in front of us. We came to aid a couple ministries and were going to take part in construction, agricultural, and health projects.

Most of our work was done in a small section of Puerto Plata composed of Haitian and Dominican families called Aguas Negras or “black water” named after the sewage that runs freely in the streets. We worked with a ministry that runs a school and clinic along with a few other services. I mainly took part in health care projects and did many house visits as I was one of the main translators.

I joke that in the D.R. I will never be lacking friends under the age of ten… and it is true. As soon as we would exit the bus and step foot into the town, the children would run from all directions and gather around us. They would ask us to play with them, to hold their hands, to pick them up, and to come to their house. Everywhere we went in the town they would follow us and it was soon apparent that for many of them there was very little parental guidance as they had no time to be home or no one to answer to…

One of my most treasured times in the D.R. was with a little boy named Daniel. His little sister Naoi was one of the children that greeted us in the streets and asked us to come to her house. Having some free time, we accepted her invitation. Upon arriving to her house we found a four year old boy named Daniel sitting on a bed underneath a mosquito net with a large burn on his face and scalp and a few on his leg. The story was that he was playing with matches on his bed and lit his bed on fire, which caused flash burns to his face and leg. He got some treatment when the burns first occurred, but he was now two weeks out and not getting any care.

We were so glad to have come across him and throughout our time we made daily visits to dress the wounds and were able to teach the mother proper wound care until she was able to take care of the burns herself. The greatest thing about stumbling upon meeting this family was the relationship we were able to develop… and this brave little boy accepting us as his friend even though he knew each time we came it was time for a dressing change- something synonymous with pain.

We also taught first aid classes, took part in feeding projects, worked in medical clinics, and attended basic medical needs of people we met. I was a little nervous about doing so much translating as the Spanish I learned is very formal and the Spanish I heard in the Dominican was full of slang and spoken very quickly… but God was at work. My Spanish was the best it has ever been. I was asked many times to pray in Spanish, which is something I have never done before, but it soon became something much more natural than I thought it could be. But out of all we did, I must say that my favorite part was spending time with the children, especially the little girls. I know many of them grow up in homes where they are deprived of affection- where there is no father and many times ten other children in the home. Each time I got to hold them or hold one of their little hands I made sure to tell them how beautiful and precious they were- and I took great joy in that…