Hello from Liberia :)
Enclosed is an exerp from my friend Megan Petock from Pennsylvania who
I traveled here with. Apparently she is an incredible writer. She's
doing a column for the Philadelphia Inquirer throughout her year long
commitment to Mercy Ships, so stay tuned if you like what you read...
"VVF
June 26, 2007. Monrovia, Liberia. Yesterday the hospital opened. Five eye surgeries were performed and 60 VVF surgical candidates were screened. Journalists and media documented the historical day which was eight years in the making. It was exciting for everyone.
Except for three women.
VVF stands for vesico-vaginal fistula. During a pro-longed labor pressure from the head of a fetus can cause internal tissue to become necrotic. A fistula develops between the bladder and vagina and causes a constant leak of urine. More severe fistula's may include the rectum and feces will leak as well.
Western medicine has eliminated this condition in the developed world. But in Africa at least 2 million women are leaking.
They leak because girls are forced to marry before they have fully developed pelvic bones. They leak because their bodies are malnourished. They leak because maternal care is not accessible. Often, a woman will endure five of six days of unattended labor. Her efforts produce a dead baby and a solemn memorial.
VVF women are societies outcast's. Husbands leave. Friends ignore. Unable to control their stench they are left to carry their burdens alone. Many become severely depressed.
60 women arrived yesterday with hope. Hope that they might regain their lives.
57 are still hoping.
3 went home.
This morning during our crew meeting we prayed those three women. And we continue to hope for the other 57.
Please pray for the physical and spiritual healing of these women throughout the next three weeks. Also, please pray for the surgeons- that they would be safe as the travel to and from Liberia and that their hands would be especially skilled."
Much Love,
Lindsay
6.28.2007
6.18.2007
Africa & Such
Hello!
If you're not already aware, you are receiving this email because on June 13th I left New Jersey for Africa, where I will be serving with Mercy Ships, a non-profit Christian Humanitarian organization providing health care off the coast of Liberia through September 17th.
This is a burden that has been inside of me for a long time. And although this trip did not come together as soon as I had hoped, looking back I can see that God used the extra time in the states this year to prepare me. Appreciating the beauty of our country, exploring new cities, working in unfamiliar settings as a travel nurse, meeting amazing new people, cultivating new friendships, yet still sharing in the lives of my equally amazing friends and family back home (who somehow continue to support me despite my lack of commitment to New Jersey!), learning how to say goodbye over and over again - all of this has grown me and prepared me for this venture ahead. I thank God for anticipating our needs even before we know they exist and for preparing me for this opportunity. And I thank you, for being a part of my world. I don't know that I would be standing on my own two feet, much less flying to Liberia to fulfill a calling, without the faithfulness of those you who upheld me through the dark times and now accompany me in celebrating this life that we walk alongside one another regardless of our physical locations. I think of the Cedarbrook and Elevate crews in Jersey, my friends at Circle of Hope in Philadelphia, Cornerstone Church and Venture in San Francisco, and One Place in Phoenix. I think of my incredibly loving family, my ever so faithful friends at home, my amazing new friends in new places, my fellow travel nurses, a boy in Phoenix who inspired me. I think of the roommates whose lives I've been privileged to share in. I think of those who I have looked to as mentors over the years: Uncle Ron, Cheryl Yek, Mrs. Hobbs, Jolene, Pastor Randy, Rod White, Ninita, Mary Newman, my Mother. I have been ridiculously blessed.
Know that I am not going on this mission alone, I am going as a representative of this community that has raised me up. I hope to keep you updated on the happenings on the Mercy Ship because you, my friends and family, are just as much a part of this trip as I am.
(Alright, alright. To all of the males who are still reading, the mushy-ness will be kept to a minimum from here on out. Promise.)
6.14.2007
Up, up, and away...
So this is it. I'm on my way to Liberia. Leaving from JFK airport in New York City was a headache, as would be expected, I suppose. Everyone was in a hurry there. A mean hurry. No time to smile. Or even be cordial, for that matter. I was reminded of my growing fondness of west coast culture. (Sorry, Mom.)
Flew with my new friend Megan, who is another nurse from Bucks County, PA who will be serving with me on board the Mercy Ship. No turbulence. Lots of empty seats. Good food. Great flight.
Landed in Brussels, Belgium, around 9am. Met up with Kassi, a pre-med student from British Columbia, Canada, who will be working as the dental sterilizer in a Mercy Ships clinic in Liberia. I am glad that the three of us have each another to travel with.
A Day in Belgium...
Everything is smaller here. The hotel rooms, the cars, the cappuccinos, the tiny spoons they eloquently use to stir their foamy cappuccinos. It feels quaint. I like that. We don't dare to purchase a thing, because the exchange rate is insane.
The Belgian people speak Dutch, with French as their second language, but a lot of them know English as well. The words roll off of their tongues so romantically. (I'm suddenly wishing I had spent less time hiding in the back of Mr. Champeaux's tenth grade French class exchanging notes with Kristen Miller and more time learning the language!) They somehow know we're not European and often speak English to us even before we open our mouths. So I'm guessing that they can pick us out of the crowd in the same way that we spot the Europeans like fish out of water in our own home country, usually by the short shorts on the men, the lack of razor usage on the women, and the ever present backpack on back camera in hand combo. I'm wondering what exactly it is about us that sets off their American radar.
The men are cute, with their European accents and fitted jeans. But they don't seem to have any shame in staring at the ladies. Not glancing, but staring. And they don't so much open doors. So next time your heart melts at the sound of Hugh Grant's charming accent, ladies, know that his movie star charm is not necessarily universal amongst the European fellows!
So we wait at the Brussels Airport to board our nine hour flight to Monrovia, Liberia. We will actually be heading west through three time zones, which makes me just a little closer to all of you. Hooray!
If you're not already aware, you are receiving this email because on June 13th I left New Jersey for Africa, where I will be serving with Mercy Ships, a non-profit Christian Humanitarian organization providing health care off the coast of Liberia through September 17th.
This is a burden that has been inside of me for a long time. And although this trip did not come together as soon as I had hoped, looking back I can see that God used the extra time in the states this year to prepare me. Appreciating the beauty of our country, exploring new cities, working in unfamiliar settings as a travel nurse, meeting amazing new people, cultivating new friendships, yet still sharing in the lives of my equally amazing friends and family back home (who somehow continue to support me despite my lack of commitment to New Jersey!), learning how to say goodbye over and over again - all of this has grown me and prepared me for this venture ahead. I thank God for anticipating our needs even before we know they exist and for preparing me for this opportunity. And I thank you, for being a part of my world. I don't know that I would be standing on my own two feet, much less flying to Liberia to fulfill a calling, without the faithfulness of those you who upheld me through the dark times and now accompany me in celebrating this life that we walk alongside one another regardless of our physical locations. I think of the Cedarbrook and Elevate crews in Jersey, my friends at Circle of Hope in Philadelphia, Cornerstone Church and Venture in San Francisco, and One Place in Phoenix. I think of my incredibly loving family, my ever so faithful friends at home, my amazing new friends in new places, my fellow travel nurses, a boy in Phoenix who inspired me. I think of the roommates whose lives I've been privileged to share in. I think of those who I have looked to as mentors over the years: Uncle Ron, Cheryl Yek, Mrs. Hobbs, Jolene, Pastor Randy, Rod White, Ninita, Mary Newman, my Mother. I have been ridiculously blessed.
Know that I am not going on this mission alone, I am going as a representative of this community that has raised me up. I hope to keep you updated on the happenings on the Mercy Ship because you, my friends and family, are just as much a part of this trip as I am.
(Alright, alright. To all of the males who are still reading, the mushy-ness will be kept to a minimum from here on out. Promise.)
6.14.2007
Up, up, and away...
So this is it. I'm on my way to Liberia. Leaving from JFK airport in New York City was a headache, as would be expected, I suppose. Everyone was in a hurry there. A mean hurry. No time to smile. Or even be cordial, for that matter. I was reminded of my growing fondness of west coast culture. (Sorry, Mom.)
Flew with my new friend Megan, who is another nurse from Bucks County, PA who will be serving with me on board the Mercy Ship. No turbulence. Lots of empty seats. Good food. Great flight.
Landed in Brussels, Belgium, around 9am. Met up with Kassi, a pre-med student from British Columbia, Canada, who will be working as the dental sterilizer in a Mercy Ships clinic in Liberia. I am glad that the three of us have each another to travel with.
A Day in Belgium...
Everything is smaller here. The hotel rooms, the cars, the cappuccinos, the tiny spoons they eloquently use to stir their foamy cappuccinos. It feels quaint. I like that. We don't dare to purchase a thing, because the exchange rate is insane.
The Belgian people speak Dutch, with French as their second language, but a lot of them know English as well. The words roll off of their tongues so romantically. (I'm suddenly wishing I had spent less time hiding in the back of Mr. Champeaux's tenth grade French class exchanging notes with Kristen Miller and more time learning the language!) They somehow know we're not European and often speak English to us even before we open our mouths. So I'm guessing that they can pick us out of the crowd in the same way that we spot the Europeans like fish out of water in our own home country, usually by the short shorts on the men, the lack of razor usage on the women, and the ever present backpack on back camera in hand combo. I'm wondering what exactly it is about us that sets off their American radar.
The men are cute, with their European accents and fitted jeans. But they don't seem to have any shame in staring at the ladies. Not glancing, but staring. And they don't so much open doors. So next time your heart melts at the sound of Hugh Grant's charming accent, ladies, know that his movie star charm is not necessarily universal amongst the European fellows!
So we wait at the Brussels Airport to board our nine hour flight to Monrovia, Liberia. We will actually be heading west through three time zones, which makes me just a little closer to all of you. Hooray!
[Megan, me, Kassi on a double decker bus!]6.16.07
And the African adventure begins...
You could have heard a pin drop on the drive from the airport to the ship last night as we gazed out the windows taking in things that we had only previously seen on the cover of National Geographic magazines. This is it. The real thing. Poverty + palm trees + grass huts. I did not see one white person in the very populated village on the hour long drive, which intimidated me for a minute, until I reminded myself that this is, in fact, Africa!
Crew members go into the community in groups of two or more, and so far, there are no major safely issues to tell of. Mercy Ships works hard to build a solid rapport with the community, not only by performing free medical services, but also by employing natives at fair wages, which is amazing! They know we are here to help. And incase they forget, I carry a pocket knife!
There was a crew member who passed away after contracting Malaria a couple of months ago, but he unfortunately was not taking the recommended anti malaria medication.
The Africa Mercy, where we will be living and working, was a cargo ship that has been converted over the last several years into a hospital ship to replace the former Anastasis, which will soon be departing from Liberia for a scrap yard in India. The crew spent the last three ish weeks, day in and day out, moving heavy boxes from the Anastasis to the Africa Mercy. They tell us we got here at just the right time. The major elements are in place, but there is still some organizing to be done on this new ship.
[Africa Mercy on the Left, Anastasis on the Right]
We are greeted again and again by crew members from all corners of the world who recognize us as new faces on board. I am impressed by a multitude of fancy accents and an array of personalities. I feel very welcome on the Africa Mercy.
My cabin is on the third floor, which on one end houses the medical staff, and on the other end houses the hospital. The hospital is fully equipped with an XRay machine and a CT scanner, a post anesthesia recovery unit, an ICU, and a hospital ward, which is where I will be working. The rooms in the ward hold up to ten patients in beds only feet apart, quite different from a modern American hospital. So much for infection control!
The six berth (bed) cabin is tight, as expected. It is separated into three sections that are each about 6X6 feet and hold two girls each, for a total of six roommates. I don't have a roommate in my section right now, but when I do I doubt that there will be room for both of us to stand up at the same time!
The food leaves a thing or two to be desired, but no one seems to complain. Hooray that we DO have a couple of fresh vegetables! Usually just cucumbers and tomatoes, I'm told. My favorites! Both are safe to eat when purchased locally if they are cleaned with bleach. Not so sure where the meat comes from. It looks a little scary. Okay, really scary. I try to fill up on other things.
Orientation meetings start Monday, and we will be taking patients on the new ship the Monday after that. Things are pretty low key on the ship on weekends. Trying to stay busy to avoid homesickness. How exactly do you stay busy when everything is closed on the ship on the weekends? You go to the beach, of course. I am ridiculously happy to find out that there are beautiful beaches just miles away. And the water is warm! According to the more experienced crew members, we will work hard, but there are times to play hard, too. Haven't so much started on the working hard part yet, but the beach was, nonetheless, a great place to play.
6.17.07
A Sunday in Liberia...
Attended Jamaican Road Church today, less than a mile from the ship. I am not sure where to begin in describing the community that we walked through to get there. It is beautiful yet heart wrenching. Tribal music plays loudly. The natives line either side of the street, some sitting on their front porches, some selling goods, some carrying buckets of water on their heads. Their wardrobes are rich in color. The babies are strapped to the womens' backs. Children are everywhere. Most wear battered looking clothes. Two are completely naked. A few look well kept. Their skinny arms and legs are complemented by round bellies and beautiful white smiles, which they exercise often. The elderly population is quite scarce. Out of hundreds of people, I spot only one gray haired head.
The dirt roads are puddle filled, as you'd expect in rainy season. The backs of our legs were mud stained when we arrived at Jamaica Road Evangelical Church. But it didn't matter. Much like the sweat that dampened our entire bodies in the cinderblock walled, tin roofed church. I would estimate that is was at minimum eighty five degrees plus humidity. And maybe once I am over the honeymoon phase of this experience the heat will matter. But today, it didn't. We were immediately captivated by the worship. They sang to the Lord a cappella, with percussion and moroccos intermittently. They have nothing, yet they sang that the Lord has provided! Their strong and beautiful voices echoed throughout the small church. They clapped and they danced. There were five and six year old boys who had more rhythm than all of my white girlfriends added together. (Okay, maybe not Dale. Dale has some serious moves!) The pastor preached about Jesus providing for our needs, and how He is using Mercy Ships to do so in Liberia. It was a privelege to be a part of such a service, and I look forward to many more.
So that's all for now. Will try to keep the updates coming. Maybe not so lengthy next time.
I would love to know how things are going in each of your worlds.
"Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be the glory." [Ephesians 3:20-21]
Much Love,
Lindsay
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