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.