Oh, how I hate goodbyes

Tonight, my heart is heavy. It has been a really strange week with this dreaded day approaching...the mass exodus. Between these last two days, there have been about 50-60 people that have left the ship...It's always a little hard going down to the dock and waving people off...it's even harder when it's almost a fourth of our whole crew...so today, there is an emptiness...not just on the ship, but in my heart.

I have had to say goodbye to a lot of amazing people, some of whom live in countries I may never get to visit. It's always hard letting go of people. But, I think the hardest part of today was saying goodbye to Jen, my BSF (best ship friend...and no I'm not the only cheesy person that uses that abbreviation on the ship :)

Before I came to the ship, I prayed that God would give me one really close friend while I was in Togo...Jen was the answer to that prayer. Jen arrived on the ship one day before me....we got to know each other during the sail to Togo and somehow we just clicked. Soon enough, we were best of friends and pretty much inseparable. Some people called us twins...our names would get mixed up all the time...in fact, even today, right after Jen left the ship, a friend of mine accidentally called me Jen.

I have to say that Jen is one of the best friends I've ever had. She's one of those people that I can trust completely and tell everything to without worrying about being judged for it. She's the kind of friend that I can let loose with and totally be myself around. She's the kind of friend who understands me...who can finish my sentences before the words come out of my mouth. Just the other day, we were having a conversation with some other people and both of us kept saying the same thing at the exact same time...She looked at me and said 'This is wierd' and we both just laughed about it.

You know you've found a great friend when you can spend the entire day working together, go to breaks and meals together, and then hang out after work and still not be sick of each other! It was kind of funny how a lot of times, if Jen and I hadn't seen each other one day, we would call each other or stop by each other's cabins...because we spent so much time together that a whole day was just too long to be apart! :)

Even though I know I haven't lost Jen as a friend, I still feel a sense of loss with her leaving the ship. Of course, I have some really amazing friends who are still on the ship with me...but, I don't have my best friend anymore. Jen told me I'll find another best friend, but I would have to disagree and say that she is irreplaceable...but she's going back to Chicago and I'm staying in Africa...So, I guess it's time for me to say another prayer for God to bless me with a good friend...he answered that first prayer far above what I ever anticipated and I know he is looking out for me..so, Jen, even though I would prefer you to any replacement, I know God has other plans for you right now, so I suppose I'll send another prayer up...

Godwing, I love you

Over the last couple months, I've gotten to know one special little boy, Godwing. I first met Godwing over in B Ward. He was the 'little boy in the corner'...he had both of his casted legs propped up in casts and just seemed to take in all the action of B ward from his little corner of the room. For some reason, Godwing seemed to just latch onto me. I only actually took care of him once or twice, but every time I was working, he would motion me over...then, he would hold my hand and say to me 'Rebecca, I love you' in the cutest little voice. After a few minutes, I would go back to taking care of my other patients and then he would call my name and motion me over again, just to have me hang out with him or to tell me again that he loved me. It was a precious little relationship we formed.

Because Godwing lived up north, he had to stay at our hospitality center, about two miles from the ship. Every now and then, I would visit the hospitality center and I always saw my little Godwing there. Whenever, his mom would see me, she would motion over to Godwing and say 'Rebecca, I love you.' It pretty much became an extension of my name...it couldn't just be 'Rebecca,' it was 'Rebecca, I love you'...every time :) 

A couple of the cutest kids from the ward

A couple weeks ago, I had the opportunity to go to the church service at the hospitality center. It was so fun being able to see so many patients I had taken care of! We got to sing together, dance together (because we all know that dancing is essential in every church service in Africa), and learn about God together. 

Godwing at the hospitality center

My favorite part of the service was the testimonies at the end. The speaker asked if anyone would like to go up front to share what God had done in their life through Mercy Ships. I was so happy when Godwing's mother went up and started talking about how happy she was that her son can now walk. She called him up to the front to tell his story. One of the hospitality center workers who was helping to translate put him up on his shoulders and Godwing was beaming. He seemed so happy that his story was being told...and we were all so excited to see him walking so well with his casts off!

This past week, Godwing came back for his final post-op appointment. His mother gave me a big hug and told me that it was their last day on the ship. She looked at me sadly and said 'I wish I had something that I could give you, but I will promise to pray for you.' I told her that was a gift in and of itself and she smiled. It was sad saying goodbye to my little Godwing, but fulfilling to know that he was one of the little lives I was able to impact. Godwing, I love you...

Going home with Tani

It's not everyday that you get to go home with a patient...especially to a tiny little village out in Africa! But, this past week, that's exactly what I got to do! After my visit to my family in Basaar, I headed to Kara, another nearby town to meet the patients that were traveling home after surgery.

I got into the bus full of patients, barely able to believe that I was able to find them and now would be able to travel all the way to Dapaong (the city at the top of Togo, only about 30 kilometers from Burkina Faso). I looked at all the VVF women (the ladies who come for fistula repairs), admiring their beautiful new outfits that they received during their dress ceremonies, where they were finally able to dance again after years of being outcasts in their society due to a problem that developed during childbirth, causing them to leak urine and thus be shunned by those around them. The VVF ladies, ranging in age from mid-20's all the way to 60 years old were going home with new dresses and a new sparkle in their eyes, happy to be healed and excited for their new lives.

The few weeks that the VVF ladies had been on the ward had been a stretching time for me, as the nursing care was much different from what I'm used to as a pediatric nurse. It wasn't really my favorite thing in the world, but God stretched me through it, and seeing the joy that now shone through these ladies made it all worth it in the end. The women sat smiling and laughing. "We are so happy because we are healed," they told me. Those are the moments that I'm reminded that I really do get to be a part of something that is truly life-changing.

Dropping off one of our VVF ladies on the ride up

But, one patient that had significantly impacted my life was little 9-year old Tani. Tani was burned in a fire at a very young age. When she came to us on the ship, she had no nose at all, just a hole where her little nose had once been. She was missing her right eye as well. I remember the first time I saw Tani. Someone was taking pictures and she had the biggest smile of anyone on her face...but, it was clear that she was aware of her disfigured appearance, as she tried to put her hand over her right eye, so that the camera wouldn't capture the part of her that she didn't want anyone to see.

Tani with the other kids at the hospitality center

(before surgery)

Covering up that sweet little face

Tani quickly won all of our hearts. She was such a good little patient.  She underwent two different surgeries where the doctors made a new little nose for her, using a skin flap from her scalp and a graft from her leg. But, Tani's recovery was delayed by an infection she developed after surgery. As a result, she ended up being in the hospital for a little over a month, just long enough to become the star patient on the ward.

Tani would always help us with her nursing care. She loved to take the thermometer and take her own temperature, push her own meds out of the syringes into her mouth, and most of all....mouth care! Tani was supposed to use a special mouthwash to scrub her mouth with her little mouth swabs four times a day to prevent infection. Every time Tani needed to do mouth care, I would hand her the supplies and say "s'il vous plaît, laver la bouche" (Please clean your mouth). Tani got so accustomed to me saying this to her (she heard it a lot since she had to clean her mouth four times a day every day!) that every time she saw me, she would imitate me and say "S'il vous plait, laver la bouche" followed by little giggles.

Through all the coloring, disney movies, and the other fun activities on the ward, Tani and I developed a close relationship, so her eyes sparkled when I had told her I might come home with her to meet her family. Her primary caregiver during the majority of her time on the ship was 19-year old Amos, the son of Tani's pastor in Dapaong. He had never even met Tani before coming to the ship, but gave up a month of his summer vacation to take care of her...and basically became a big brother to her. So, it was fun to travel first to Amos' house, meet his parents and tell them how great of a job he had done.

The trip to Dapaong was beautiful, very green, wide-open spaces....not much around aside from some little mud huts every now and then. Every so often, we would stop for a bathroom break, find some bushes, and be on our way...that has become the norm for road trips for me now....TIA..

As we were driving along, Amos and I were talking about arrangements for Dapaong (it was all a little last minute, so there weren't a ton of plans made)...from what I had understood from our conversatons on the ship, I was going to stay at Amos' parents' house when we got there. But, on the drive, we were talking about it and Amos adamantly stated, "Oh, no, you can't stay at my house. It's too poor. White people can't stay there!" I couldn't help but laugh..."Well, I think I'll be just fine," I reassured him..."unless it's an inconvenience for your parents..if that's the case, I can stay at a hotel," I told him....He assured me that there was plenty of room and that his parents loved having guests, but kept shaking his head and saying that he didn't think it would be good enough...It made me kind of sad that he felt that I should be entitled to a nicer place just because I was white. I hate that mentality and I've seen it quite a bit here in Togo. If it's nice enough for you, then it's nice enough for me, I told him. And it turned out to work just fine.

Amos in front of the house

Me with Amos and his family

The first night in Dapaong, Tani and I shared a room. It was kind of special having a sleepover with one of my little patients. As I was getting ready for bed, I put on a bunch of mosquito repellent lotion (which didn't end up working at all!). As Tani watched me rub in on my arms, her eyes lit up and she pulled out a large bottle of baby lotion that she'd been given at the hospital. "Tata, regardez" (Auntie, look). She mimicked what I was doing and rubbed the lotion up and down her arms until the were shiny. It was so sweet. It was also the first time that Tani called me "Tata"...I was no longer just her nurse, now I was her Auntie and her friend. That really touched my heart.

My bed was on the concrete floor...but still ok for a white person :)

The next day, we headed out to Tani's village. Amos' father, me, and Tani were all piled onto one motorcycle and Amos rode behind us on a motor taxi. He had offered to give up his spot on the motorcycle so that I could go to Tani's village and meet her family. But, I knew he wanted to go and I wasn't about to take his place and keep him from going to Tani's big homecoming without a fight. He didn't want me to have to pay the massive amount of 3,000 cephas for his zemi ride (a whopping $6). I told him it didn't matter..my mind was made up and he was going...he deserved it..he had just spent a month of his time caring for this little girl and he had every right to see her off to her home and meet her family. So, he finally agreed, even though I think he still felt bad about me spending the money...such a sweet kid!

Tani and Amos

                                              

The ride out to the village was beautiful...very open and green..we were on a bumpy dirt road for most of the ride, passing by small villages every now and then. It was fun driving through in the morning, seeing all the people starting off their day. Lots of women were walking down the road with their buckets on their heads, venturing  out to the place where they could fill up their water. We saw lots of people already working away at the ground in the field, as well as a few oxen plowing the fields....it reminded me of the stories in the Bible. It's kind of crazy how primitive some parts of Africa still are...but I have to say, I do love the beauty and simplicity of it all.

We finally arrived at Tani's house after about an hour's drive. Her home consisted of several little mud huts with lots of animals roaming around and lots of little children with questioning looks on their faces, curious about this yovo (white person) that had come back with their sister.

          

                                          

Someone ran out to call Tani's mother and as we waited for her to come home, Tani pulled out her bag of goodies from the ship. It was full of toys and stuffed animals that she had accrued over the last month she had spent in the hospital. It was so sweet watching her pull out all her toys, handing each one to a brother or sister. At one point, she was hunched over her bag with her little brother on her back, hanging on for dear life as she played Santa Claus and distributed presents. It was rather amusing...I tried to remind her that she had a little guy on her back so she wouldn't drop him, but he knew better than to let go...he seemed pretty well trained...after all, this is Africa :)

                                   

Tani went on distributing toys and proudly showed her brothers and sisters how the different toys worked until she finally got down to the very bottom and there was nothing left to give. It was so beautiful to see Tani's generous, unselfish heart in the toy distribution. The big smile across her face was good evidence that she has learned that it is "more blessed to give than to receive." I was so proud of her as I watched her interact with her brothers and sisters.

                                                      

                  Me with Tani's family

                                         

I would have to say that going home with Tani was one of my favorite experiences so far in Africa. I feel really blessed to have had the opportunity to meet her family and I look forward to taking care of her in Sierra Leone next year!