My friend Marilyn is in Africa serving as a nurse on the Africa Mercy. She emails me and I share her words with you. For those of you who know nothing of Marilyn's story, the Africa Mercy is a hospital ship that travels the African coast with a crew of nurses and doctors. They come from all over to give of their time as volunteers.
"Two Weeks Gone"
2017-09-30
Hard to believe I've been here two weeks already. "Time flies when
you're having fun" seems to hold true once again. And I certainly have
been having a wonderful time...not "fun" exactly,
just joy in the
journey. I was going
to take a day trip to an animal preserve and
botanical garden a couple of hours away, but the captain
made it a "no
go" zone due to demonstrations and unrest in that
area. Perhaps I'll
have another opportunity if/when the political climate
settles down.
Anyway, I haven't seen much of the country--just the path
from the team
house to the ship, to the eye clinic, and back.
Douala itself seems
peaceful. There are "no go"
areas in the city, but
it's due to thieves
and rough characters in those areas, not political
unrest. As African port cities go, Douala seems more
prosperous than
some. There are many paved streets (some major
potholes, to be
sure...),
round-abouts, and traffic lights. Lots
of traffic, of
course, both taxi and
private vehicles, and probably ten times as many
motorbikes as
cars. Driving is "situational"
rather than
rule-governed, so
cars nose into intersections to muscle their way
through the
congestion, and motorbikes slither all around everyone,
going every which
way. Pedestrians stroll through traffic
with a
casualness that I
certainly wouldn't feel. I don't think
I'd ever be
comfortable driving
in Africa! It takes a certain
aggressiveness--but
not too much--to
drive in conformity with local expectations.
You
don't want to play
chicken with the big trucks, but if you hesitate and
yield to oncoming
traffic, you'll never get home.
We continue to screen for cataract patients four days a
week. Of those
who come to the initial screening, the likely surgical
candidates are
scheduled for secondary screening at the clinic in batches
of about
60/day. Of those, the
ones that are approved for surgery then have
their eye measurements done and are given a date to come to
the ship for
surgery. These first
two steps of the process have been underway for
several days now, and they seem to be going well. Surgery itself starts
on Monday.
On Friday, the eye team debriefed a bit. Several of the day crew said
how hard it was to turn people away that we are not able to
help.
Rolland told of one man who wanted to know if perhaps
someone in Europe
or the States could have helped him if he'd had the money to
go. When
we told him that no one could have helped him, not even in
Europe or
America, because his eyes were too damaged, it was a moment
of
revelation for Rolland.
As he said, "I suddenly realized that money
can't buy everything."
That's a pretty profound truth for an ambitious
young man. One
wonders how it will impact the course of his life.
At the Hope Center, an eight-year-old girl had
diarrhea. Poo was
everywhere--her clothes, her bed, the floor. The facilitator (crew
member, in charge of the shift) and one of the day crew set
to work
cleaning her up, reassuring her, loving on her. Another day crew person
was watching. Later,
he said, "When I saw that mess, I just wanted to
get away. Even when
my own baby has a poopy diaper, I get repulsed and
hand her to my wife.
Why is that? I want to change,
and have more love
and compassion."
Moral of the story: It's not just
the patients whose
lives are transformed around here. Ours are, too.
For me, seeing life through another's eyes, like the stories
above,
rattles my complacency, my sense of entitlement, and makes
me ever more
profoundly thankful for all I have, all the opportunities I
have had,
and for the incredible privilege of being here.
--
Marilyn
Sharon M. Himsl
Writer/Author. Blogging since 2011.
Published with Evernight Teen:
~~The Shells of Mersing