On leaving Liberia...

There is a part of me that is relieved to leave Africa, where 'corruption' has become a cliche, where malaria looms and parasites threaten my Western immune system, where police checkpoints induce fear rather than feelings of security. I'm relieved that I will no longer be asked for money on all corners, that I will no longer be asked for my address, that I will no longer be known only by the color of my skin.

There is a part of me that breaks for Africa, where government officials have betrayed their people, where parents neglect their children and children kill their parents, where satan's malevolent deception pervades God's loved ones. I am broken over the hundreds who are unjustly imprisoned, over the hundreds of thousands who where killed senselessly because of the greed of a few, over the countless children who are denied nutrition, family and hope.

And there is a part of me that rejoices with Africa, where people are quick to praise the name of Jesus, where God's existence is not intellectually debated but accepted and exalted, where restoration is evident. I rejoice because Christ's righteousness is preached, Christ's reconciliatory nature is enabling, and Christ's miracles are happening.

Sailing

We're sailing in the Atlantic! Our current location is apx 23.4N and 18.3W - just off the coast of the Western Sahara. The sail has been a lot of fun so far. I was feeling a little seasick at first (I'm not taking any medicine), but I soon developed my "sea legs." This means I have learned to constantly shift my weight, overcorrect my steps so I don't weave down the halls, run when the ship is rolling down and brace myself when the ship is rolling up. Our captain told us that a good way to prevent seasickness is to keep a full stomach. I have really embraced this advice and have taken to eating Pringles all day long.

Here are some pictures of our sail:

The Sail

Collision with corruption

I took a short trip last weekend with several friends to Buchanan, another coastal city about 70km south of Monrovia. Saturday was great - we enjoyed a beautiful albeit bumpy and cramped 3.5 hour ride there, a nice walk along the beach and a nice dinner. Sunday however was less than relaxing and more than adventurous.

The problems began Sunday morning when we tried to pay for our night spent in the hostel. We had to be out by 10am, but at 10am the owner was nowhere to be found. We took our $30 (3 rooms at $10 per room), placed it on the caretaker's desk, and left to walk along the beach. When we returned to the hostel later that afternoon to meet our taxi the owner was quite concerned. Apparently he had been searching for us all morning because, as he claimed, he never received our payment. We explained in detail where we had left the money, and he maintained that it was never there. Before we knew it, the 6 of us foreigners (probably the only white people in town) were surrounded by about 30 Liberians and two "officers" of questionable authority. It was quite a scene. We explained and argued for about an hour, but it was to no avail. Things were escalating and it was evident that we were gonna be traveling after dark, so we ultimately decided to pay again.

We were quite unhappy about the situation. Not because we each had to fork over an extra $5, but because we had fed right into one of Liberia's evils: corruption. We'll never know if the hostel owner was being honest about not having received the money. If he never got it then it was because someone else went into his home and took $30 off of his desk in the 10 minutes that it was left unattended. Both situations are disheartening. Corruption plagues this poor, hurting nation, and it is one of the biggest blockades to recovery. It seems that everything operates by the ten dollar handshake, and this stagnates progress.

Getting ripped off made me sad about the state of Liberia, but there is plenty of room here to hope. There are pastors here that urge members of their church to walk as Jesus walked - with integrity and fear of God. It is my prayer that these seeds of integrity may be scattered in good soil. Soil that is fertile and far from the cares of this world that threaten to choke life.

Betty update

I've realized that I never gave an update on my last adopt-a-patient Betty. She is the 21-year-old who came in for a VVF repair. As I said in my first posting about her, the surgery was unsuccessful, and so she is still leaking urine uncontrollably. The strength of this woman amazes me. She gave birth when she was 17, and she was in labor for 7 days to deliver her stillborn child. She has never been married, and, from what I can gather, her family sent her away to live with her aunt in Monrovia after "the problem" started. (That's how she refers to her incontinence - it's "the problem.") Betty told me that she doesn't have any friends, which I find hard to believe because she has such a spunky, congenial personality. In addition to causing social isolation, the problem also prevents her from going to school. As she describes it, to be in school she needs to be able to sit and stay dry for five hours, and this isn't possible in her current state. But she is still hopeful. Betty told me that she is praying to God to heal her so that she can go to school. During the war the Liberians schools shut down for about 7 years, which means that Betty probably has the education of and 11-year-old. I told Betty that I would join her in prayer for her healing. She was told that she could get another surgery when the ship returns. We exchanged phone numbers because she wants to call me once she's healed so that we can say "praise God!" together.

Betty and I had a lot of good times together while she was here. I would usually go and visit her in the evening after work and spend about an hour chatting, braiding hair, painting nails, etc. One night when I came in she had her short hair unbraided and standing on end, and she had a pick stuck in it. She said that she had been waiting for me and wanted me to comb out and braid her hair. I was so touched that she wanted me, the white gal will little to no African hairstyling experience, to experiment on her head. Betty patiently taught me how to work the comb against her scalp one section at a time to loosen the "dirt" (dandruff) and choose sections for each braid. The finished product was... well, let's just say that the braids were probably removed promptly after I left. Regardless, it was a sweet time of sisterhood.

Here is a picture of Betty and me:
(hmmm more technical difficulties. stay tuned)

Phebe waterfall - biomeds at play

Saturday evening some of our other friends from the ship joined us in Phebe so that they could see the hospital and we could all go to a nearby waterfall together on Sunday.

The waterfall trip was totally an adventure! The hospital kindly arranged to take us to and from the waterfall in one of their Land Rovers. This initially seemed way more ideal than hiring a taxi, but as it turned out our Land Rover was experiencing some technical difficulties and it kept dying. Apparently it had too much oil and the engine constantly overheated. I think we had to push-start it 7 times in total. On the return leg it died in the middle of a mud puddle so deep that mud crept in through the door. We thought we were sunk both figuratively and literally until about 8 men emerged from the bush (machetes in hand, mind you, because they had been tending their sugarcane) and helped us push the vehicle out. Really, the sense of community among these people continues to amaze me.

The waterfall was beautiful, and what was even more fun than looking at it was climbing it! It was actually a cascade, not a waterfall, so there were rocks and roots going up that allowed us to make our way to the top. The task required a lot of teamwork and determination, but we made it up and back down again with minimal injury and maximal excitement. It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime, unforgettable days.

Here are some pictures from the weekend:

Phebe Hospital - biomeds at work

I spent this past weekend at Phebe Hospital, the second biggest hospital in Liberia which is about four hours northeast of Monrovia. They had a bunch of unusable medical equipment and a broken oxygen compressor, and so the hospital administrator invited up a few of the Mercy Ships engineers up for the weekend to see what we could do. I went up with Carlos, the head biomedical man, and Alan, a mechanical/electrical engineer.

We stayed at the hospital administrator's home and had an absolutely lovely time in fellowship with him over the weekend. His name is Rev John Lunn; he is a Lutheran missionary from the United States and is currently the only non-Liberian living in Phebe. It was really cool to learn about his past. He has spent years serving the Lord in a homeless shelter in the Bronx, in Hawaii, in India, and now here in Liberia. Out of all of the places this man has been, he told us that this has been his toughest assignment. The lack of infrastructure in the country makes everything a challenge. John told us that the two biggest concerns of the hospital are 1) electricity and 2) running water. In the age of gene therapy and remotely performed telesurgeries how can a hospital's biggest concerns be electricity and running water?? Apparently nothing is easy at the hospital. If one thing goes right it's almost guaranteed that two things will go wrong. Yet in spite of these frustrations and his cultural isolation, John exudes peace and hospitality. He has such a sweet, sincere and peaceful demeanor. It's amazing what one can accomplish with Christ as his foundation.

Fixing the medical equipment wasn't quite as enriching as sharing stories with John. We repaired two machines and ended up throwing a lot of stuff away. Such is the life of a biomedical technician, I suppose! Still, I think the hospital appreciated the help. The staff gave us a big box of locally grown fruit as a thank you. From those who have little, such a gift means a lot.

One of the highlights of our day working on the equipment: we got to meet Liberia's Minister of Health! He used to work at Phebe hospital, so he comes for a few days each month to perform some surgeries. It was really neat to talk with him and hear some of his thoughts about the country's current need for biomedical technicians. Apart from Carlos and myself, there are none.

Shadowing the public health team

Last week I got to spend a day shadowing the Africa Mercy public health team as they went into the field. They have been going to a local village named Soss Town to teach about public health to leaders of the community. The idea is that these students will go back to their respective villages and implement the recommendations and teachings they learned in class. It was a good experience. We opened the day with prayer and some worship singing, and then the educators talked about safe village practices. They stressed the importance of hanging clothes on lines instead of the ground, wearing shoes, clearing brush and weeds, keeping animals in pens, building latrines, etc. The students were such avid learners and were engaged by the lesson. It's amazing how such simple changes can have such an impact on the health of the community. After class we all got to enjoy lunch together. We had one of my favorite African dishes - cassava leaves and rice.

Back in prison

I went to visit the women in Monrovia Central Prison again yesterday. Thelma and Mary were not there this time, so I am guessing that they were released - praise God. The conditions in this Liberian prison are so bad. The food is scarce, and the place is crowded. It's by the grace of God that the imprisoned have remained relatively healthy with the exception of a chicken pox outbreak a couple of months ago. The women live in tight quarters - about 30 of them share a cell block about the size of a modest 2bd American home. This however is a paradise compared to the men's cells. I learned this week that in some cases 19 men are sharing a 10'x10' cell. They cannot all lay down at the same time, so they sleep in shifts. What is particularly heartbreaking about this prison is that an overwhelming majority of these people haven't even had any formal accusations made against them; they are merely detainees, awaiting an elusive court date that does not promise justice.

In the morning before heading to the prison I was reflecting on how little I could do to help these women. I mean, there are very few levels that I can relate to them on. In light of their suffering it's so easy for me to feel unworthy to tell them to have hope. To tell them that God is good and God cares for them and will meet their needs. But in his grace God uses unworthy vessels to convey his love, and he gives us the words to say. He allows us to be his hands, to be his voice.

I spoke with and prayed with many women in need, but there was a woman who I was particularly touched by this week - Sarah Mowry. I've seen Sarah on other weeks that I've gone to the prison, but I had never tried to strike up conversation. To be honest, she's a rather intimidating woman. She's got a tiny frame but piercing eyes and a stony expression. Well this week she came right over to where I was sitting in the corner of the cell and said "I want you to pray for me." She spoke heavily accented Liberian english, and it was really difficult for me to understand her as she told me her story. We probably tried for 10 or 15 minutes. She'd start talking, I'd strain to listen comprehend, then I'd admit that I wasn't pickin' up what she was puttin' down. She'd get a little agitated and say "You don't understand me?!" which came out more like "You doh' unahsan' meah?!" Then I'd ask her to try again. We unsuccessfully tried several times to get someone to translate, but by God's grace and patience on both ends, I finally got her story: her husband took out a loan several years ago but was then killed in the war. The collector came to her for payment, and when she didn't have the money she was put in jail. After learning her story I prayed with her, and by the time we were finished this stone-faced woman was in tears and I was awed by the love of God. When I am weak - inhibited by language barriers, feeling unworthy and unsure how to pray - He is strong, and his Spirit intercedes for me with groans that my words cannot express. Praise to God.

Nimba Mountain

Mercy Ships gave us a two-day holiday last weekend, and several of us decided to travel to Nimba Mountain. Our goal was to sleep under the stars from atop the highest point in Liberia. The trip was full of adventures and bumps along the way, but by God's grace we accomplished our mission! The scenery was beautiful and the trip was unforgettable.

Here's an album to recount the trip:

Nimba Mountain

*thanks to Victor, Naomi, and Justin who unknowingly contributed several pictures to this album.

Betty

I adopted a new patient this week; her name is Betty, and she is a 21-year-old here for a Vesico-Vaginal Fistula repair. (see "Scanning the VVF records" for more info on VVF patients) I've only met Betty once. I don't know here entire story yet, but I'm pretty worried about her. She actually came to the ship about three months ago for a VVF repair. There were a lot of complications with her surgery, and it ultimately failed. Her second attempt at repair was this past Thursday, and I've learned that this one failed too. She lost a lot of blood and needed a transfusion. Coincidentally, my name came up as a possible blood donor and we were a perfect match, so I got to give Betty 400ml of my own blood. I haven't visited Betty since the procedure, because after donating I got pretty sick and have spent the past night and day in bed with a fever. I peeked through the hospital window this evening, and Betty looked like she was in a lot of pain. Apparently she received two more transfusions today. Please please pray for Betty. Pray that the Lord would miraculously heal her body and fill her with hope and joy.

Photos updated

*just wanted to let you know that I finally got photos up for "The new 'do" and "Adopt-a-patient send-off."

Liberian History

Liberia is a relatively small country with a dynamically tragic history. The country is only a bit larger than the state of Tennessee, and it was established in the mid 1800's by freed slaves from America. Since the country's birth, there has existed a sort of "step-child" relationship between Liberia and the US as well as a strong tension between the descendants of the freed slaves ("Americo-Liberians") and those belonging to the indigenous tribes. These factors have contributed to significant civil unrest that finally erupted in 1980 when Samuel Doe, a man with an 8th grade education and the backing of a rebel army, overtook the government in a coup and publicly executed 13 members of parliament not far from where my ship is currently docked. Since Doe came into power the country has experienced economic decline, civil unrest and tyrannical leadership that climaxed into a violent civil war that claimed the lives of about 10% of the population and ended in 2003. Driving over the pot-holed roads and shells of bombed-out buildings throughout Monrovia, it's hard to believe that this city was one of the most advanced and prided cities in Africa just a few decades ago.

Here are some photos of Monrovia, taken by the Mercy Ships communication department. Because my $200 camera is more than half a year's wages for most Liberians, I am trying to be sensitive about where/when to take photos. On most of my trips into town the camera stays in my purse.

Adopt-a-Patient Sendoff

Today I said goodbye to my adopt-a-patient, Elizabeth! After spending time with her every day for the past 2+ weeks, I had grown pretty close to her and her older sister, Elizabeth. Through the development of our relationship I learned many things about their lives: I learned that Elizabeth burned her hand when she was 3 years old and reached her tiny hand into a pot of boiling water. Because her family lives in the country's interior region, she had no chance to get to a hospital for treatment. I learned why the Elizabeths always responded to my inquiry of how many siblings they have by saying simply "plenty" - their father has multiple wives. This also explains why they're both named Elizabeth - different mommies. I learned that the older Elizabeth is 28 and has a 10 year old daughter of her own. I learned how to speak a bit of Kissi, their native language. This week I learned that the younger Elizabeth wants to learn how to read English. I wrote out some Bible verses for her, and we read them together. She's a smart cookie and picked up really quickly. I'm hoping to see her again now that she's been discharged so that I can give her an English Bible to read because she doesn't have one of her own.

Thanks for all of your prayers for the Elizabeths. It was so fun to get to know them, learn from them and teach them. As a bonus, I got to know many other patients on the ward as I'd go to visit Elizabeth each day. I really respect the sense of community I see among Africans. Though the hospital patients had never met before and likely will never meet again after being discharged, they interact as a family. They feed each other, share food, laugh with each other, take care of each other's children, etc. It was impossible for me to visit Elizabeth without also catching up with Samuel, Blessing, Mami, Anthony and Christian. Boy do they know how to make one feel loved.

One Sunday I took the Elizabeths along with some other patients on the ward up to our outdoor deck for a little photo shoot. They really got into taking pictures! The first one is of Elizabeth and me. The little girl in the second photo is named Blessing, and she was sooo cute. Whenever I would come to visit she would immediately curl up into lap, and one night she started to cry when I left. The final photo is of the whole photo shoot crew - some of my closest buddies on the ward. Clockwise from left, Elizabeth, Samuel, Mami, Blessing, Elizabeth.

Scanning the VVF records

Before I begin my duties as Assistant Biomedical Technician each day, I spend a couple of hours in the morning as the Health Care Secretary. As secretary, I have recently been scanning patient records so that we have electronic files of everything. I am currently scanning in records from our VVF patients. VVF stands for Vesico-Vaginal Fistula, and it is a devastating condition that affects thousands of women here and in other underdeveloped countries. A Vesico-Vaginal Fistula is a rupture in the wall separating the vagina and (often) urethra which causes the woman to constantly leak urine. The course of the condition is so sad. In many cases it is something like this: a young pregnant woman who is not fully physically developed or a pregnant woman who has had many children runs into severe birth complications without proper medical care. The labor lasts for days and the baby invariably dies. The excessive pressure on the birth canal causes the rupture between the vaginal wall and urethra, causing the woman to leak urine without control. In many cases the husband leaves, and the woman is rejected from her community because of her condition. So basically, this woman who has undergone unimaginable physical pain loses her child, her husband, and her community and is left with an embarrassing and painful condition. As I glance through the files of these women each morning, the pre-op patient questionnaires almost bring me to tears. Here are some exemplary cases:

Age?
18
Number of pregnancies?
1
Number of living children?
0
Days in labor?
3
Age at delivery?
15
Age at marriage?
13
Did husband leave after fistula?
yes


Age?
38
Number of pregnancies?
8
Number of living children?
2
Days in labor?
7
Age at delivery?
32
Age at marriage?
young
Did husband leave after fistula?
yes


Praise the Lord, doctors on the Mercy Ship are able to perform surgeries that can often correct this condition. Not that the procedure will bring back a woman's child or her husband, but it can restore her dignity and femininity and be a powerful witness of Christ's redeeming love for her. After a number of these surgeries are performed, Mercy Ships holds a celebration where all successfully repaired women are presented with a new dress, a mirror, and a Bible to take back to their communities. The Lord is good and eager to heal. Please keep these women in your prayers.

The new 'do

My patient's sister, Elizabeth, kindly spent over two hours braiding my hair. Unfortunately my hair is not as thick or textured as many others who sport the braided look, so the result wasn't quite as flattering on my head as it would have been on others. Nonetheless, it was a good bonding experience. Elizabeth and all the patients around us kept laughing at how "slippery" my hair was. Ah, yes, slippery hair has its disadvantages. Of course, it has some advantages too: I haven't brushed it since arriving. :)

I opted to wear the braids back during the day (photo 1) because I looked a little less like Medusa than when they were down (photo 2). The removal of the braids gave me another new hairstyle (photo 3) that I affectionately named The Poof.

Elizabeth update

My adopt-a-patient, Elizabeth is doing well! She actually didn't need to have her wrist attached to her leg while it healed after all, so she's just got a basic cast on. It's been good spending time with her and her sister, though sometimes it's difficult for us to understand each other because Liberian English is heavily accented. A couple of nights ago her sister braided my hair! It looks a bit crazy and kind of hurts by the end of the day, but it was a good bonding experience. I've got a couple of pictures of the new do; I'll try to post them soon. Tonight I got to read them some Bible stories about Jesus' miracles. Their uncle was there too, and they all seemed to enjoy it. It was a really sweet time.

Biomedical engineering dream team

This is the Africa Mercy Biomedical Technician dream team! Need a piece of broken medical equipment fixed? We're your guys! The team members include (from left) Carlos, Ned and Marla. Ned is a bit quiet, but the other two are loud enough to make up for him.


And this is our territory: the Biomedical Technician Office. Note Ned's lack of a left leg. This may explain why he has not been very helpful these last few days.

...So this is where I spend most of my working hours. My time here has been such an unexpected blessing! Having had minimal hands-on technical training in the past, I initially felt very unequipped for the job. But I was reminded that the Lord called me to this particular position for a reason, His thoughts are higher than my thoughts, and He equips us with all that we need to accomplish His purposes. And the Lord has indeed been faithfully providing for me in this position. By God's grace I even fixed my first broken medical device yesterday! It was actually really fun to pull it apart, identify and repair the broken bit and put it all back together again. Resources are scarce on this ship and virtually non-existent on land, so we have to be very resourceful in our repairs. I have been particularly blessed by Carlos, the head biomedical technician. (actually, he's the real biomed tech; I'm just an assistant) He's been super patient, helpful and kind and has taught me tons about the medical devices and how to fix them. Ned has been less helpful but has provided a good listening ear if I need to talk.

African sunsets

I took these from the ship a few nights ago. The view was breathtaking.

African beaches

These were taken at ELWA Beach, which is just south of Monrovia. The clouds don't make for great tanning, but rainy season is almost over.

Monrovia Central Prison

On Saturday mornings people from Mercy Ships go to the Monrovia Central Prison to spend time with the prisoners, and today I went along. It was really really good.

The prison is unreal. There are over 650 men and about 30 women. People are packed and locked into tiny cells. They are fed once per day, and the "meal" is a bowl of hard, dry grains covered in some sort of broth. The crimes that led to these peoples' incarceration were surprising and petty - many had been imprisoned for not being able to pay a debt or for getting into an argument. Many were thrown in jail simply because of an unsubstantiated false accusation.

I got to spend some time with the women prisoners, and it was amazing. They have such need. They need people to listen to their stories and to care. They need people to get in contact with family members on the outside, who often don't even know their loved ones are in prison. They need to know that God is steadfast and just and will meet all their needs.

I was particularly struck my a young woman named Thelma and her mother-in-law, Mary. They were falsely accused of kidnapping and were thrown in prison along with Thelma's husband, Jeremiah. Yet they have deep peace and joy. I read them Psalm 139, which continually gives me hope in hardship, and they received the message with thanksgiving. Talk about rejoicing in our sufferings. Though they are imprisoned, they continue to praise Him.

Please pray for Thelma, Mary and Jeremiah. Pray that the Lord would continue to be their hope and their joy. Pray that God would multiply the food in their stomachs so that they would not be hungry. Pray that justice would move swiftly and give them a quick release. And if it is the Lord's will that they stay for some time to be a light in Central Monrovia Prison, then pray that God would continually strengthen and encourage them and give them peace.

Eilzabeth

I met Elizabeth, my adopted patient, today! She seems really sweet. Her older sister, who is also conveniently named Elizabeth, is going to be staying with her while she's in the hospital, so I'll get to minister to Elizabeth x 2. :) The first few minutes where a teensy bit awkward as I tried to explain to her that I had signed up to be her friend; there are mild language/age/culture barriers to overcome. But all things considered, I think we hit it off pretty well, and I'm looking forward to developing a relationship with Elizabeth as well as her older sister Elizabeth. The older Elizabeth (O.E.) already asked if I would be her best friend. This invitation, in combination with the wedding proposal last weekend, is leading me to the cultural assumption that Liberians are very friendly people.

I also found out more about Elizabeth's upcoming surgery - her right hand/forearm was severely burned, and it healed in a way that forces her wrist to remain fully flexed and barely functional. I learned that the surgeon will need to repair this with a skin graft from Elizabeth's groin, and the graft has to have subcutaneous tissue because it will cover exposed tendon and will need to vascularize the area. The tricky thing about this is that the skin must remain attached to the groin during recovery so it can remain alive to vascularize the new tissue. So basically, Elizabeth will have to spend three weeks recovering here with her right arm attached to a piece of skin around her groin. To me this sounds terribly uncomfortable. But Lord willing the discomfort will be worth the outcome, and Elizabeth will once again enjoy full functionality in her wrist.

Please keep Elizabeth in prayer as she undergoes her surgery tomorrow (Friday)!

Adopt-a-Patient

Yesterday I adopted a patient! We have an Adopt-a-Patient program on board that pairs up each surgery patient with a crew member. We are committed to spend time with our patients each day as they undergo their procedures and recover. It seems like an incredible opportunity to encourage and support someone as he/she goes through a potentially scary time.

My patient's name is Elizabeth, and she's 12 years old. I haven't met her yet, but she's coming in on Thursday and scheduled for plastic surgery on Friday. I don't know what her pre-op diagnosis is yet, but many of the "plastics patients" are burn victims with wounds that have healed improperly and caused major disfigurement. Please keep Elizabeth in your prayers! Pray that the Lord would be giving her strength and hope about her upcoming surgery, and please pray that the Lord would bless our friendship and use me to convey His love for Elizabeth. I'll provide more details as they come!

Marriage Proposal

Today I was proposed to. By a 16-year-old boy at the craft market. He took stride next to me and said "Hey you. I like you. I want to marry you." He later told my friends and me that he loves American women. Apparently we have "curvy bodies." Charming. He also told us that he wants to marry an American girl so that he can become an American and join the marines. (at least he's honest) We tried to encourage him to stay in Liberia, stressing that the country needs people like him to provide honest law enforcement. ...still, it's nice to know I have an offer on the table...

David

Had a tough encounter with a man on the dock earlier this week. While at work one afternoon I was taking out some trash on the dock, and I was approached by a Liberian man named David. David looked like a skeleton in a t-shirt. He was truly starving, and he talked and moved about slowly with a troubling sort of vacancy. He came up to me and asked "can you help me?" "Yes?," I replied with uncertainty, not really knowing what to say. "Can you give me work?" He asked for work with such sincerity and un-vocalized urgency that I cannot get it out of my mind. Mercy Ships is known to hire locals to work on the dock for good wages, so I told him that I would ask my colleague who has been on the ship longer. My colleague came over and explained to David that our department wasn't hiring right now. He took down David's name and told him that we would get in touch with him via his church if something came up.

I think David left the conversation with more hope than I did. The thing is, I believe we do all of our hiring at the beginning of the outreach, so I doubt we'll be able to offer David work. And work is very hard to come by here.

Please please pray for this man David. Pray that he would take heart and hope in the Christ. Pray that the Lord would bless him with a deep and unshakable faith, and that He would also bless David with work and with food. The prayers of the saints are powerful and effective, and by the grace of God this is a sure way we can all help.

"I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father." (Jesus; John 14:13)

God and poverty

I highly recommend reading Good News About Injustice by Gary Haugen. In the book Haugen takes a Biblical look at God's response to injustice and its implications for our response as Christians. It's been really helpful in giving me scriptural reminders that God HATES injustice and wants his people to do something about it. (there are tons of related passages; Isaiah 1:17 is an example - "Learn to do right! Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow.") Here's a passage from Haugen's book that I really like. Quoting John Stott, he comments on God's familiarity with suffering:

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Of course, this notion of a lofty, unknowable God who sits beyond the reach of my objections strikes me as infuriating. In the context of human suffering, I find no love for a God who sits on some serene, detached cloud of mystery rolling his eyes and exchanging if-they-only-knew smirks with the angels.

But then I remember Jesus, and I recall what my God, the one true God, is really like - the God of the cross. Even in the midst of the deepest human anguish, I remember why it is that I love Jesus and trust what he says. John Stott expresses my own convictions most beautifully:

"I could never myself believe in a God, if it were not for the cross. The only God I believe in is the One Nietzsche ridiculed as "God on the cross." In a real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it? I have entered many Buddhist temples in different Asian countries and stood respectfully before the statue of Buddha, his legs crossed, arms folded, eyes closed, the ghost of a smile playing round his mouth, a remote look on his face, detached from the agonies of the world. But each time after a while I have had to turn away. And in imagination I have turned instead to that lonely, twisted tortured figure on the cross, nails through hands and feet, back lacerated, limbs wrenched, brow bleeding from thorn pricks, mouth dry and intolerably thirsty, plunged in God-forsaken darkness. That is the God for me! He laid aside his immunity to pain. He entered into our world of flesh and blood, tears and death. He suffered for us. Our suffering became more manageable in light of his. There is still a question mark against human suffering, but over it we boldly stamp another mark, the cross which symbolizes divine suffering. "The cross of Christ...is God's only self-justification in a world such as ours."

So when at times I flippantly challenge the Almighty as to why he allows horrendous suffering, I am pulled up in a shudder of humility as I recall that there is no measure of his creation's suffering that he has not been willing to bear himself. Indeed, I stand before a God whose thoughts - and sufferings - are too great for me.

-Gary Haugen; Good News About Injustice
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Poverty

For those of you who do not know about the history of Liberia, I highly highly encourage you to read up on it. I admit that even though I knew that they had just emerged from a civil war, until coming here I did not understand the full extent of the devastation of the war. After being here a week I have only just begun to understand it. Since the war only ended four years ago, many of the patients seen on the ship have been victims of gruesome crimes, and nearly everyone has lost loved ones to the fighting.

The poverty is unimaginable. 85% of Liberians are unemployed - especially in Monrovia - and 80% are living in poverty. The city has been ravaged. Buildings are bombed out, the only electricity here (in the capital city) is generator-driven, and UNMIL (UN Missions In Liberia) officers patrol the streets constantly in efforts to keep peace that currently seems a bit shaky. Many of the people go without food regularly, and one woman I was talking to commented on the lack of animals in and around the capital with the explanation that they had all been eaten by the starving citizens. From what I gather there is not a lot of economic disparity among Liberians - everyone is poor.

The condition of the Liberians has been tough for me to grapple with over the past week, and I haven't even interacted with that many locals yet. I take hope in knowing that God IS sovereign even in a place like this. God is ever-present even in times of trouble and unchangeable even in times of uncertainty. And this is what matters. As C.S. Lewis puts it, "all that can be shaken will be shaken and only the unshakable remains." Praise the LORD, He does not look at the external but considers instead what is within us. I really like Psalm 10 lately:

"The LORD is King for ever and ever;
the nations will perish from his land.
You hear, O LORD, the desire of the afflicted;
you encourage them, and you listen to their cry."
Psalm 10:16-17

Pictures of my home!

This is where I will be living for the next three months:


And here are some views from our dock, which means that this is what I'll be looking at for the next three months:

I love window seats!

The heavens declare the glory of God


the skies proclaim the work of his hands


Day after day they pour forth speech


night after night they display knowledge


There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard


Their voice goes out into all the earth


their words to the ends of the world



Psalm 19:1-4

Phoenix Sky Harbor --> Monrovia, Liberia

I started to feel genuinely nervous about my trip to Africa once my dad dropped me curbside at the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport and it finally dawned on me that I was about to undergo a lot of change. I got that familiar "oh dear Lord, what have I gotten myself into this time" sort of feeling.

I was quickly comforted with the reminder that I'm never alone; God is with me. Regardless of whatever I'm feeling or whatever happens to me, Christ is there and will continue to be there. I recited some of my favorite promises from Psalm 139 to solidify this:

LORD you hem me in behind and before

You have laid your hand upon me

...

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

If I settle to the far side of the sea,

Even there your hand will guide me,

Your right hand will hold me fast.

...
All of the days ordained for me where written in your book
before one of them came into being.


One of the things about flying into Monrovia that I was the most anxious about was switching planes in Brussels. I don't know why, but I was unreasonably afraid that I would be on some obscure flight into Western Africa that no one had heard of and no one else was taking and that I wouldn't be able to find it. As soon as I boarded my Chicago-->Brussels flight I found myself providentially seated by not one, not two, but three unrelated Liberians all making the same connection as me. It was just a small but welcomed reminder that God listens and cares to calm our fears.

The trip was long, (over 30 hours door-to-dock) but quite smooth and enjoyable. I took a lot of pictures looking out my window, and I had ample time to journal, read and sleep.

8 Random Facts; Reflections from the Home Front

So I've only got 8 more days until I leave for Africa! I've been in AZ for just over a week now, and my time at home has been good. I've really enjoyed spending quality time with the fam, not needing quarters to do laundry, going to siblings' volleyball games and swimming meets, depleting the family cereal supply, etc. My parents and sisters leave me home alone and car-less during the day while they're at school and work. This can get a bit lonely, but it gives me ample time for reflection and medical school applications. And Abby, the zany family Golden Doodle, keeps me company.

A while back I was blog-tagged by my friend Katie, and I'm just now responding. (in typical Marla-style!) As one who has been tagged I am supposed to post 8 random facts about myself. I am also supposed to tag 8 others to do the same, but I have always been a rather non-aggressive tag-player and so the buck stops here. Unless of course you want to be tagged, then by all means let me know and I'd be happy to oblige. (I realize the likelihood of this is very low. I mean, who ever hands him/herself over to be tagged? Unless, of course, he/she is super fast and is tired of the really really slow kid being "it." I digress.) Without further adieu, here are some little-known facts:

1. I weighed 10 lb 10 oz when I was born. My doctor referred to me as a "horse," and according to my father I had no face but rather a big wrinkle where one's face should be.
2. My parents almost named me Nina.
3. In my lifetime I have parented 9 hamsters, and the saga of their lives closely parallels a Greek tragedy. I can provide more details upon request, but the history includes inexplicable deaths, incest, inter-familial conflict and murder.
4. I am a professional balloon twister.
5. I can wiggle my ears, cross my eyes, triple-curl my tongue, do weird things with my shoulder blades and dislocate my right hip, and I have double-jointed elbows and thumbs.
6. Though I try and try, I simply cannot raise one eyebrow at a time.
7. My most embarrassing moment involved me hanging upside-down on a climbing wall 15 ft off the ground suspended only by my sweat-pants in front of a sizable crowd of strangers, my sisters and my former employer.
8. For a long time it was my life ambition to be Belle at Disneyland. In fact, the desire played a significant role in my almost attending college at ASU. In choosing to go to Penn in Philly I sacrificed the possibility of attending character auditions each March and thus retired my Disney dreams. Oh, the decisions that can change a life...

Bangalore, India

Aug 5th - Aug 17th: two weeks in India!

Bangalore is the capital of the Indian state of Karnataka and is known as the hub of India's IT industry. Bangalore has an estimated metropolitan population of 6.5 people, making it India's third-most populous city. The local native language is Kannada, though many educated residents of Bangalore also speak English and Hindi. Home to prestigious colleges and research institutions, the city has the second-highest literacy rate among the metropolitan cities in the nation. However, as a large and growing metropolis in the developing world, Bangalore continues to struggle with problems such as air pollution, traffic congestion, and crime.*
*thank you, Wikipedia

Photos:
As could have been expected in the age of digital cameras, the team collectively took hundreds of photos on this trip. I've selected some of my faves and put them in this album:
Bangalore, India

The purpose:
A missions trip with several members from my house church in Cambridge. We went to team up with two ministries in Bangalore: ACTS and PATH

The team:

From left: Khan, Matt, Robin, Preeti, me and Karen. Okay, so Khan wasn't officially part of the team. He was our driver. But since we spent apx 3-6 hours with him each day, we'll call him an honorary member.

The scenery:
Was diverse, to say the least. We visited bustling markets and remote school campuses, marble-lined palaces and garbage-lined slums.



A market on Hosur Road. These flower vendors were everywhere.





ACTS Main Campus. South of the city, about an hour from where we were staying. To get here required driving for about 20 minutes over an indescribably bumpy dirt road.





Tipu Sultan's palace in Mysore, Karnataka. Ridiculously posh.






This photo was taken in one of the slums that we visited. Because of the lack of plumbing here, these people depend on this truck to get their water supply each day. Inclement weather can be devastating.



Some reflections:

"They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death. Therefore rejoice, you heavens and you who dwell in them."
Revelation 12:11-12

Despite being overstimulating and exhausting on every level, the trip was phenomenal. Praise the Lord, I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. I left Bangalore with lots to think about, and I'll share just a few reflections here:

I was overjoyed by the faith of the people we met with. So many are turning from empty idols to earnestly seek and serve the Living God, and I am humbled and thankful that the Lord would ordain that I worship Him alongside so many that embrace Him with a pure and stark reliance that I have never known. I am also broken and brought to my knees by the seemingly hopeless enslavement of so many other women, children and men who were made in the image of God and are precious in His sight. Praise the Lord, He has given us hope even in such devastating situations and reassures us by saying "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)

The trip was full of memorable moments, but I'll share two of the scenarios that are the most vivid in my mind. We spent most evenings attending meetings at different ACTS churches in the slums. For me these times of the trip were the most encouraging and re-energizing. My favorite church meeting was our second one of the trip on our first Thursday evening in Bangalore. The group was made of Kannada-speaking women, most of whom had come from a Hindu background and had faced/still face severe persecution at home for their decision to follow Christ. At the end of the meeting the women came up to us one by one to greet us and at times ask us to pray over them. I was moved to tears by the sweet faith of these women and the sense of how dearly loved they each are by the Lord. I felt totally unworthy to be the one praying for them, these women who live with faith and conviction amidst a world of trial I have never experienced and can barely imagine.

My second experience to share is from our evening at the Bangalore railway station with the folks from PATH. PATH provides a shelter and community for boys working as porters at the railway station, most of whom are runaways whose families can't support them. When we went to the station I was prepared to spend time with the boys and encourage them to go to the PATH shelter. I was not expecting to see the groups of women loitering with them. The women were not porters, they were prostitutes. Like the young men, these women were also victims to circumstance and caught in a devastating, inexorable cycle. Only there is not yet a PATH shelter equivalent for these girls. I was particularly drawn to one woman who was carrying her small son on her hip. I wanted so badly to tell her that she was loved and valued by God Almighty. That Christ willingly died with her salvation in mind. I wanted to take her with me, out of the train station and into a safe place where she and her son could escape the enslavement of poverty. I felt helpless, crippled by language barriers and lacking time and resources. I could only hold her hand, pat her son, look into her eyes and smile with sincerity. And pray. I was reminded as I left that petitioning on her behalf is a profound way to help and probably the most practical way for me under current circumstances. I was also reminded that the Lord hears the cries of the oppressed, and he cares more deeply than I can fathom. I am encouraged by the words of Psalm 10:

Why does the wicked man revile God?
Why does he say to himself,
"He won't call me to account?"
But you, O God, do see trouble and grief;
you consider it to take it in hand.
The victim commits himself to you,
you are the helper of the fatherless.
Break the arm of the wicked and evil man,
call him to account for his wickedness
that would not be found out.
The LORD is king for ever and ever;
the nations will perish from his land.
You hear, O LORD, the desire of the afflicted;
you encourage them, and you listen to their cry,
defending the fatherless and the oppressed,
in order that man, who is of the earth,
may terrify no more.
Psalm 10:13-18

Ra Ra Road Trip!

I spent July 24th - August 2nd on a cross-country road trip with my mom and 2 sisters, Laura and Natalie. The purpose of the trip was to move all of my worldly possessions back to The Tree House and, while doing so, spend QT with the fam and see the South. In 10 days we covered 16 states, 3900 miles, and about 2 dozen cycles through Natalie's ipod. My mom, in typical supermom fashion, drove the entire way. Here is a rundown of our points of interest as well as some photo highlights:

Points of Interest:
1. Juniata County, PA. The birthplace of both Ma and Pa Stump and the residence of a majority of the Stump/Simonton ancestry. We spent a day and a half with my grandparents (Mom's side).
2. Philadelphia, PA. We spent an evening chillin with Ethan, our favorite brother.
3. Shenandoah National Park, VA. The scenery was beautiful, and Mom drove on those winding, narrow, cliff-roads with an alacrity that would have made Engineer Thad Stump proud.
4. Myrtle Beach, SC. Though we only stopped for a couple of hours, we enjoyed a much needed nap on the beach, and we got to dip our feet in the Atlantic Ocean.
5. Charlestown, SC. This town was one of our favorite stops. Admittedly, we may have been heavily influenced by the fact that we were given free pralines nearly every time we walked into a store. Beyond the free-flowing pralines, we were impressed by the well-preserved buildings and rich history of the small Southern town.
6. Savannah, GA. Savannah was also really cool, though we didn't get to spend as much time there as in Charlestown. It also had interesting, well-preserved buildings and tons of beautiful parks.
7. Montgomery, AL. Said to be the birthplace of the Civil Rights Movement. We stopped in Montgomery to visit the Civil Rights Museum. The museum is small but powerfully moving and definitely worth the trip. It portrays the heart-breaking, mind-numbing nature of hate crimes and propels the stories of courageous individuals who have stood against such senseless violence. In front of the museum is a waterfall displaying Martin Luther King Jr.'s quote from Amos: "Let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!" (Amos 5:24)
8. New Orleans, LA. We spent a morning wandering the streets of the French Quarter. Really, to me the place seemed a little depressing. Bourbon Street was dead, and sadly it didn't seem like the place would have had been any more alive had the street been filled with people. The touristy part was a bit more welcoming, but still there seemed to be this underlying cry of confusion and emptiness. I'm sure there is plenty of vibrant, beautiful life in New Orleans. I just wish we had more time there so that we could have found it.
9. Longview, TX. We made a stop to visit my very dear friend, Michelle, and her very dear husband of 8 months, Jim. While at Michelle's we crossed paths with my very dear Kate Mills and her very dear husband Justin Mills! It was super fun to catch up with them.
10. Stephenville, TX. We stopped here to visit the farm that my grandpa owns and used to travel to frequently. I would also like to point out that Stephenville is Jewel's current place of residence. Unfortunately, we didn't see her. But I think my cousin may have been in her house once.
11. The Catfish Cafe, Odessa, TX. While this was not originally intended to be a point of interest, it warrants kudos for being our only dinner option in Odessa, Texas. Due to location, I'm not sure where exactly the establishment found a lake in which to fish for catfish, but they did have a rather large and foreboding catfish statue at the restaurant entrance. And they boasted a very eclectic menu. I had hush puppies and an egg-beater omelet.
12. El Paso, TX. Really, we just slept here. But we saw Juarez, Mexico!
13. The Tree House, Gilbert, AZ. Home sweet home! We arrived at around 4:30 on August 2nd, giving me about 28 hours to unload and temporarily stash all of my worldly possessions and then pack and prepare to fly back to Boston for my friend Kristina's wedding and then to Bangalore, India!

Photo Highlights:

Natalie, Mom, Ethan, Laura and City Hall in Philly


Like all good older sisters should, Laura and I spent a significant amount of time trying to embarrass Natalie. This photo was masterfully staged. I asked Natalie to pose with me for a picture, and then on cue as Laura snapped it I dropped to one knee to propose. Nat was mortified.


In the Shenandoah Valley. Sisterly love at its finest. Nat's sign says "Virginia is for lovers."


Nat agreed to pose for the stupid-hat photo in the VA Cracker Barrel with the stipulation that she be allowed to look thoroughly disenchanted.


Some buildings in Charlestown:












The little knobby bits on the building below are "hurricane bolts." After a hurricane's high winds would disrupt the frame of the house, these tension bolts would be tightened to sort of pull the house back together again.














Mom and me in Charlestown.

Some cool bridges in the South:

At a military fort outside of Savannah. What good little soldiers.


Savannah skyline.


Civil Rights Museum in Montgomery, Alabama. Quote from the book of Amos and subsequently MLK's speech, "I Have a Dream."