Back to Ghana

This weekend, I had the opportunity to head back to Ghana! But this time, I was not with a van full of 'yovos'...actually I was the only yovo! I went up north to a town called Hoe with Victoria and Bright Gabla, two friends who work with me as translators on the ward.

The drive up north was uneventful (for once!) and I absolutely fell in love with their little village up in the mountains! It was so beautiful and peaceful..very few cars passing by on the dirt road that ran down the middle of the village. It was a nice change of pace from the fast, busy culture of Lome.

Victoria standing in the kitchen..notice the goats

are warming themselves by the fire :)

This weekend was a great opportunity to get away, relax, and experience 'real African culture.' I enjoyed making 'fufu' (a popular African food) with Bright and Victoria's mom, walking down the paths through the village with random goats and chickens roaming around, and meeting all the 'brothers' and 'aunties' that Bright wanted to introduce me to. This was especially funny to me because very few of them were actually related..they just all call each other that...at first, when he made the introductions, I would say 'Oh, that's your auntie' to which he responded 'Yes, of course.' Then I asked 'But is she really your auntie' to which he responded 'Well, we're not related by blood, but that's what we call each other...By the end of all the visits to all the different people in the town, I would jokingly look at Bright and say 'Let me guess...she's your auntie?' and he would just laugh and tell me I was right....I just love the culture in Africa and the way everyone is family!

Pounding the fufu

The final product...best fufu I've had yet!

(I can't take credit though..I barely did anything)

One of the highlights of this weekend was going to church with the Gablas. On sunday morning, I started to unpack my church clothes and Victoria looked at me and said 'I don't think you'll need those'...'What do you mean,' I asked. 'Well, mom has a surprise for you today,' Victoria exclaimed with childlike excitement. She was so excited for me to open the 'surprise.' A few minutes later, their mom came in and laid out a beautiful pink African skirt and top that they had made for me! I was so touched by their generosity and thoughtfulness in having an entire African outfit made for me! It is actually very common in the African culture to make an outfit for a friend who is visiting, so when Bright and Victoria found out I was going to come with them to their village, they called their mom so she could have the tailor make something for me!

My pink African outfit (with Victoria)

Church was absolutely amazing! I'm sad to say that I didn't bring my camera with me because I would've loved to show you pictures of the amazing choir all decked out in their black and white robes, accompanied by their matching caps. They looked like college graduates with their tassles dangling from their caps. The music was amazing and the choir sounded amazing! I am always so blown away by how beautiful and loud African voices sound! I just love watching them sing their hearts out to the Lord!

The church service wouldn't have been complete if there wasn't some dancing to go along with the music! I just love dancing in church! There are occasionally conga lines and what we like to call 'the chicken move', which involves a lot of movement of the arms and shoulders, making a person look very similar to a chicken. It's always a little bit amusing doing it but the Africans just love seeing 'yovos' doing their moves! I can't help but laugh every time I dance 'African style.' The whole church was full of joy as the songs were sung and men, women, and children all danced before the Lord....such a beautiful picture of what I think it will be like in heaven...sheer unashamed worship and rejoicing!

Sunday afternoon, we visited the 'village chief' who somehow, ironically were also related to Bright and Victoria :) It was interesting to see the accomodations for the village chief and to get to know him and his wife a bit. Thankfully, the chief spoke some English, which was nice for me, since I speak very little Ewe (I'm working on my French first, then maybe I'll move to local dialects!)

Victoria & I with the "chief" and his wife

After our visit to the chief's house, we had to head back to the ship (Lome is about a 4 hour ride from Hoe). I was sad to say goodbye to the Gabla family, but was warmly invited to come back again...hopefully I will get to visit one more time before we sail in August!

The Gabla Family

What lies beneath the surface

There's one story in particular that has really touched my heart in the last few weeks...it's about a little girl who came to the ship all the way from Cameroon...this is Aissa's story:

Aissa was abandoned by both of her parents as a child. She grew up with her grandmother and at the age of 6, developed a disease called NOMA. Her disease resulted in degeneration of the tissue in her face. She was very malnourished and there was a huge portion of flesh missing in the side of her right cheek. At the tender age of six, Aissa had lost not only her parents, but she had also lost the gift of being seen as 'normal.' Because of the circumstances she found herself in, she became an outcast in her society.

But, Aissa's story doesn't end that way. Aissa found help at a local hospital in Cameroon and improved significantly after receiving treatment. But even with the best treatment they could give her at the hospital, she still needed surgery to remove a portion of her cheek and replace it with a skin flap. So, a non-profit organization called Willing and Able funded Aissa's plane ticket to Togo so that she would be able to get her surgery.

A few weeks ago, I had my first encounter with Aissa. I didn't know anything about Aissa's story. The first thing I was told about Aissa was that she had lots of behavioral problems and frequent tantrums. As I listened to the nurse's report during handover, I prepared myself for the worst and prayed for patience, expecting to have a really challenging day with this little girl.

But when I went over to Aissa's bedside to meet her, I didn't see the stubborn, rebellious child I had expected. Instead, there, beneath the bandages and guarded expressions, I saw a fragile little spirit. It was apparent that she had become hardened by the ridicule she had received for her condition, but the little sweetheart inside was still shining through. I know it was only the grace of God that I could see the true Aissa that first day.

The day passed with its share of challenges. Aissa was very hesitant to have any medicine placed in her feeding tube due to the nausea she had been feeling for the past few days. I slowly pushed each medicine through, waiting for Aissa's nod of approval. The entire process took nearly half an hour. But, I knew that somehow I had connected with Aissa and won over some of her trust. I tried to show her in every way possible that I loved her. And, somehow, that message seemed to get across to her.

A few hours into the shift, Aissa's uncle helped her with her bath and accidentally got her dressing wet. The dressing was covering her skin graft on her thigh, which had just been operated on a few days before. I started to take off the layers of gauze and waited for Alanie, our wound care nurse to come to assess the wound. Alanie walked in the room and watched as I finished removing the gauze. She looked at me, then looked at Aissa. 'Wow, Becca! She really trusts you!' she said. And then it hit me, 'She really does trust me.' It hadn't even dawned on me up until that point that this behavior was out of the ordinary for a little girl who refused her medicine and threw frequent tantrums. She really should've been squirming and fighting. That would be expected behavior for a six year old 'uncompliant' child who was having a bandage changed. But, she didn't fight. She barely even moved. Instead, she sat perfectly still as I worked away and obediently kept her hands off the wound. As I realized the breakthrough I'd just experienced, I silently thanked God for his favor and finished up the dressing change.

Looking back on that situation, I see an ironic representation of something that was happening below the surface. No one could see Aissa's wound until all the layers of gauze were taken off. It was obvious that there was a source of pain, but it was all covered up. At the same time, she had deeper wounds that were not just physical. There were emotional wounds from the ridicule, abandonment, and neglect she had experienced. But, as the layers of her anger and bitterness were peeled away through the love she received from the staff, the hurting little heart beneath it all could finally be seen.

Aissa looking in the mirror to see her new face

In the last few weeks that Aissa has been on the ward, she has completely transformed into a different little girl. She is playful, social, and has become our favorite little helper. She even occasionally picks up the babies on the ward (there are lots of siblings of patients on the ward) and plays 'mama,' hugging them and giving them kisses. I love seeing Aissa's nurturing little spirit. She loves to climb on me like a little monkey and gives lots of hugs. Some days, Aissa's fireball spirit and endless energy wears me out, but I can't help but smile and love her for every minute of it. Every time she comes up and wraps her little arms around me, my heart is filled with gratitude to God for the miracle He's done in our little Aissa. She's had a long journey, not just from Cameroon. She came from a place in her life that was dark and gloomy to a place where she can experience and give love...it's children like her that remind me that this ministry is not just about physical healing...it's about a deeper healing and tranformation that only God can do. It has been amazing to be a part of Aissa's journey. I know that she will go home changed. She will have a new face, but more importantly, she'll have a new heart.

'Mamma Aissa'

Our little helper

Kisses from Aissa

Aissa's new face is healing up nicely

The smiles behind the stories

Well, I know sometimes it's hard to imagine the stories I tell when there are no pictures to go along with them. But, unfortunately I don't always have pictures of the patients since only our ship photographers are allowed to take photos of us with the patients. Thankfully, though, we got a lot of good shots over the last couple of weeks...Here are some of the cute kiddos I have enjoyed taking care of in the last few weeks:

Me & Maurius, my little cuddle bug

Isn't he a cutie pie!

My friend Tricia and  I with Gloria

                                        Me & Lovelace

I had the opportunity to go to the hospitality center this past week, which is where the patients go after they are discharged  if they are not from the port city and need to stay closeby for dressing changes or follow-up appointments. It was great having a little reunion with some of the patients I have been able to take care of in the hospital and seeing them all happy and pain free!

Reunion with Bobo!

Me & my candy-cane princess (Mako)

Check out their new straight legs!

On the other side of heaven

Last week, we experienced a tragedy that no one seems to really understand. I was coming back to the ship with my friend Jen when a Mercy Shipper drove by and told us that we needed to get back to the ship right away and go straight to the ICU! They didn't say why but both of us knew it was O'Brien. He had been struggling since he came into the hospital, even before surgery. But, he had been our little miracle baby, so none of us were prepared for what would happen. Jen had taken care of O'Brien more than I had since she's a PICU nurse and he had most recently been in our ICU. My first thought when our friends frantically told us to get back to the ship was that O'Brien needed a new IV because his old one had gone bad. He was a hard stick and they had struggled to get the last one in. But, we were met with the bad news when we arrived back at the ship...I'll let you read Jen's words on this account since I was more of a bystander in this story:

"Sometimes I just really don’t understand God and how He chooses to work on this earth!

If you look a few blog entries back, you’ll notice one about a beautiful little boy named O’Brien. He was named after an American tennis player that his dad saw play on TV. He had become somewhat of a poster child for those of us here on the ship. We called him our “wonder boy”. And he was! God performed a miracle in his life and no one can take that away.

Last Friday afternoon O’Brien left his tiny diseased body behind and was welcomed home to the loving arms of Jesus! When I first heard, I felt angry and confused! Why would the God that I know to be kind and loving and compassionate take this little one?? And why would God go to the trouble of miraculously saving O’Brien’s life just to let him die a few weeks later? And what about his mama, a beautiful kind-hearted and quiet-spirited young woman; how was she supposed to return home with the lifeless body of her only child in her arms?

I was off-ship when he died. I was walking back to the ship when a Mercy Ships vehicle on it’s way out stopped alongside the road and a fellow nurse told me that I needed to get back to the ICU as soon as possible! No other explanations! I felt a pit form in my stomach and I suddenly had an urgency in my step to get back to the ship as soon as possible!

I walked into the little room where a handful of nurses were gathered around O’Brien and his mom. She was holding him in her arms. Someone had dressed him in a cute little white onezie with yellow chicks on the front and had put a light blue hat on his head. He looked the best I’d ever seen him look! She looked up at me with big, red, tear-filled eyes and I hugged her. I kissed O’Brien’s cold little forehead and cheeks and hugged his mama again, saying a silent prayer as I did. Really, what do you do in a situation like that? There is absolutely nothing natural about a mother watching her baby die. Language barrier or not, there really are no words!

We all spent a few minutes together and then I watched as O’Brien’s mama tenderly wrapped his tiny lifeless body in a cozy blanket. Her eyes were puffy and red and tear-filled. She remained so stoic and steadfast. O’Brien looked so peaceful. Only his tiny brown face was visible, with the imperfections of his bilateral cleft lip still present. She asked if we could all take a photo with O’Brien, something for her to remember us all by. Finally, we made the long walk up and out of the ship, down the gangway to a car awaiting to take O’Brien’s mama and his body back to their home in Benin. I gave O’Brien one last kiss on the forehead and hugged his mama, again silently praying for God’s grace to be sufficient for her! As they drove away, she waved, and I waved back. It felt like a part of my heart had been ripped away.

I still don’t fully understand why God chose to work in the manner He did; I don’t think I ever will and I’m not sure that I’m supposed to. What I do know is this: God gave us O’Brien as a gift for a short while! I am inclined to think that God chose to heal O’Brien the first time for the sake of those of us who would be left here on this earth, not for O’Brien’s sake. We were all witness to the miracle and I know my faith was strengthened! God chose to answer our prayers of healing for O’Brien the second time by taking him home to heaven where he is now perfect and whole, playing happily at the feet of Jesus!

Still, my heart hurts for his mama, at home, mourning the loss of her firstborn son. I continue to wrestle with why this had to happen, but I don't have the answers. I hold onto the truth that all the care and love that O'Brien and his mama received while they were a part of our ship community was not wasted on his mama. That love was not of ourselves, but rather the tangible expression of Christ's love through the hands of doctors and nurses (and many others). My prayer is that this same love will sustain each of us through the incomprehensible and heart-wrenching situations that come our way in this life!

We will miss you O'Brien! We will miss your little grunty cry and we will miss how we had to hold you nearly every minute to keep you from crying. We will miss how your NG tube always turned into an OG tube and your little discolored patches of skin. But most of all, we are glad you are now happy and healthy and loved beyond measure!"

Even though I only had taken care of O'Brien a few times myself, I know that my faith was also strengthened by his story. And while I, like Jen, don't understand why things turned out the way they did, I know that there are answers on the other side of heaven and I choose to trust that our loving Father knows best and is holding little O'Brien in his arms.