The Struggle is Real...

I had a wonderful discussion with a 2 year SM named Bronwin.  She, like me, came to Bere hoping to work in the hospital.  The first 6 months all she did was construction for the nutrition center. The nutrition center is WAY in the bush. She was practically alone, approximately four kilometers from the hospital.  

As if being alone wasn't enough, her house family wasn't the best. They never fed Bronwin even though she paid them to cook for her.  They used the money for themselves and left her to fend for herself. 

There are a numerous amount of stories she told me, both good and bad. In my opinion the bad seemed to out weigh the good. Of course I wasn't there experiencing it with her. She firmly believes that coming to Tchad was the best experience.  She wouldn't change it for the world.  

Bronwin emphasized how not being able to work in the hospital was the greatest blessing of all.  Most doctors get five minutes tops with each patient.  How are you suppose to evangelize to them in such a short time.  It is possible, but very hard because you can't form a relationship with them.  Bronwin was able to form lasting relationships. She has become a Tchadian, instead of a nasara. (Reminder...nasara means foreigner in a derrogitory way).

That definitely gave me hope. I can be of use wherever I go.  I just need to change my outlook on this trip. I accepted the facts. I was ready to do the work God intended for me.  The devil probably realize my change of heart and started attacking me more.  

I have had an extreme allergic reaction to.....I don't know what.  At first, I only had hives on the back of my elbows and knees. These hives were the worst hives I have had in my life. (The bumps were twice the usual size...everything is bigger in Tchad right?) I have eczema in those areas, so I was already itchy.  The hives just made the itchiness unbearable. My first layer of skin was easily scathed and peeled away as I scratched.  

By day three of my allergic reaction the hives had spread. They were now all over my arms, on most parts of my legs, and my face.  My eyes were like jumbo sized chocolate covered marshmallows, very puffy and abnormally big. And they burned!! I wanted to rip my eyes out!!

In addition to my hives problem, I have something on my scalp.  At first, I thought my eczema had gotten bad and spread to my scalp, but boy was I wrong.  On day two of insufferable itching I realized that there were big bumps on my head. They were very painful to touch.  Not only was it imediate pain, I also got pressure headaches. I tried so hard not to touch my head. I didn't want anymore headaches, but I really wanted to scratch my head!! I was between a rock and a hard place. 

Things got even worse by day five of the scalp problem. The bumps started oozing. The secretions would build up and plaster my hair to my scalp. No matter how much I washed my hair it smelled disgusting. (It was like someone had taken out their weave they had for 3 months and never properly washed it....thats how I smelt EVERYDAY!!!). I found out that Dr. Bland and his wife had a similar scalp problem, but never found the cause.  The only difference was that my bumps hurt and theirs didn't.

Long story short, I have been itchy for the past week and haven't found the cause.  I have lost the pigmentation on many parts of my body. I wake up in the middle of the night in pain from my dry, cracked, bloody skin.  I am almost to the end of my rope, but I'm hanging on tight. 

I stopped taking my malaria pills, hoping that is what I am reacting too... Please pray long and hard for me.  I want the itching to stop, but I don't want to get malaria either.  There are a few alternative optioons out there....we will see what happens.

Night of Fright

We tried to have vespers in the pavilion last night, and things were looking very official. Jamie and Tammy dotted every "i" and crossed every "t".  All the chairs were placed in a circle, and they brought out 2 guitars and a ukulele for song service. The screen and projector were set up as well. The plan was to sing then watch a numa video.

We began vespers with prayer, and passed out the delicious snacks.  Somehow I was deemed the leader of song service, but it didn't bother me. (Let's be real, I hate being in the lime light. God had calmed my nerves). I chose and lead four songs then sat back to watch the video. 

To bad we weren't able to finish the movie. A heavy wind swept through the compound and knocked the screen over.  We tried everything to keep the screen from falling, but nothing worked. It was like a sail caught in the wind. The approaching storm hindered the service.  

We decided to stay and talk with each other, refusing to be stopped by the storm.  The wind tore violently through the pavillion as the temperature plummeted.  Lightening lit the sky and dark clouds pronounced our pending doom. (Too dramatic?) In the end we dispersed, trying to beat the rain.  

As usual, Josh walked me to my hut. (My hut is on the way to his house and I can't walk by myself after dark). It was pitch black. The moon wasn't out, and the storm clouds hid the stars. No matter how hard we tried, we couldn't see further then an arms length away. All we could do was light the path we walked and pray for the best. 

We made it to my house safely. Josh began running so he could beat the rain and I turned towards my compound. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a shadow headed straight for me!! I scared myself even more by screaming so loud. (Let's be real, if I was able to see whatever was running towards me then it was way to close!!) I didn't even have time to run.  I braced myself as the shadow lunged towards me.  

Instead of pain I felt something wet on my leg.  Opening my eyes, I realized my attacker was a dog. Not my host family's dog, but a friendly dog. (My family dog usually barks at me because I return to my hut after dark). My heart was racing as sweet relief flooded my viens.  

My house family was sleeping outside and quickly responded to my scream. They ran over to see what had happened.  I was so embarrassed. I just smiled at them and tried to play it off. Smiling I waved to them and asked how they were doing.  I continued to walk to my hut avoiding their questioning looks.  I continued attempting to calm my nerves as I unlocked my door. I entered my hut and, being a creature of habit, I turned to open the window. (I always sleep with the window and door open to cool my room).

I don't know how I contained my scream. Sitting next to my window was a spider the size of a softball. (It had bright yellow and brown strips.....DISGUSTING!!).  Praise God I slightly broke routine. I enter the door opposite of the window. I would have walked straight into the spider's web if I entered the door on the window side.

In all honesty I was so shaken up I ran right out of my hut. I lost my last shred of dignity. I sprinted straight to my house dad, quietly yelling in english. (I had enough control not to wake the kids). I either forgot or didn't care that he didn't speak english.  I just wanted him to kill the spider. 

I don't think I got the right message across. He sprinted to my hut ready to kill every monster in my  closet. He definitely laughed when he saw the spider.  I thought I was doing well with all the bugs and random animals in Tchad, but I was wrong.  I could live in harmony with the small insects and precarious creatures, but nothing else. Anything that has a body bigger then its legs (or looked poisonous) makes me itch. I now understand what Daniel feels every night he sleeps in his hut. 

Smelly Stories

Tchad always keeps me on my toes. There is always a new sight, smell, or feeling I realize. Typically, I write about the things I have seen and occasionally spice it with my feelings. Let's be real, even if I was an amazing writer, you wouldn't be able to fully comprehend what we have (and will) experienced in Tchad.  But, in an attempt to "culture" my audience I have decided to write about the new fragrances I have come across. There are two, somewhat funny, stories I want to write about.  The first story took place in my hut.  

It was raining as I walked home that night.  Everything was...a little on the wet side. I did the best I could to rinse the mud off my feet before entering my hut. Continuing my usual routine, I opened the window and prepared for bed.  

I had left my phone on the floor, and turned to grab it. There was a clump of mud laying a couple centimeters from my phone. I was a little frosty because I thought I had carefully rinsed the dirt off. Apparently, I tracked mud into my hut.   

I knelt to pick up as much mud as possible trying to keep my hut clean. BIG MISTAKE!! The mound of dirt was actually poop. I don't know where it came from, how it got there...and I rather not know.  Ignorance is bliss right?!

I was choking on the pungent smell the feces emitted. It smelt like melted M&M that were smashed and mixed with rotten tomatoes and diarrhea. The poop was warm and the fumes clung to my skin. No matter how hard (or long) I scrubbed my hand, I couldn't rid myself of the smell. 

To make matters worse the smell dispersed around the room. I was being suffocated by poop! There was another pellet under my bed, but I refused to interupt it's slumber.  I didn't need another whiff of the stuff. I gave up and crawled into bed. There was nothing more I could do. (The pellet of poop is still under my bed...I refuse to touch it lol)

The second incident was more of an epiphany. As I stated before, I am a creature of habit. I always sit in the same seat at the SM hut. After a week of sitting there I realized that something smelled very Tchadian. (Most Tchadian's don't wear deodorant. Just think of your body odor and times that by 1000. That is how intense the smell is on a good day...but you grow accustom to the smell).  

Most days I would sit in my chair trying to sniff out the source. Let's be real, I always checked to see if I was the source first. Then I would start looking around my seat.  It wasn't an overpowering smell, just a light whiff once and a while.  I was so frustrated because I couldn't find the source! Don't worry I eventually found the source - unlike last time. 

We have clothes lines in the SM hut to hang our towels. They hang over every seat in the hut. Although we showered most of our must away, we were still a little ripe.  Our towels collected the rest of our BO, slowly emitting it right over our head. The hospital staff did warn us we would start smelling like the locals. Now I understand what they meant.

First Official Week of Work

Pastor Rich was right. I packed scrubs and medical supplies, prepared to work in the hospital. Instead, I'm doing data entry. I'm use to doing data entry; I've had various desk jobs since high school. That's not a problem. The problem is that I CAN do the same thing in America. 

I was asked to teach a few classes on first aid/EMT basic, anatomy & physiology, and exclusive breastfeeding. That would be amazing. Anything new and different I would readily welcome.  However, I feel I have been tricked.  After all the action packed surprises during my trip to Bere, Tchad seems to be pretty boring.  (At least my current situation is really boring).  

Zach and Charis have emphasized that they want at least 8  hours of work from us - just like in America. Not a problem, but please give me something to do.  They have tried to assign data input tasks, have us study french, and even teach a healthy cooking class.  Nothing keeps us busy.  

It is common knowledge that I like to keep busy.  I hate feeling like I am wasting time.  So...this is what Daniel, Josh, and I have accomplished in our free time. I have complete 2 chapters in my MCAT study book. I taught one of the Bere boys how to complete a Rubik's cube, and I have finished a full season of Suits. Daniel has finished 2 (almost 3) seasons of Suits, killed every bug that crossed his path, and is on level 37 in Bejewel (he doesn't even like that game, but it is the only phone game he has). Josh has accomplished the most. He has watched 5 movies, a season of Suits with me, and he beat every level in Bejewel.  (He was crowned the king of Jewels haha). At this rate we will make an impact on the bench we sit on instead of the world.  

On a happier note, we started meeting with the traditional birth attendants (TBAs) and the community health workers (CWAs). Granted we mostly sat quietly and listen, but at least we were able to help a little bit. We helped them practice taking blood pressure and temperature.  They don't have fancy machines to do it for them, so we have to make sure they understand the concept behind every little thing we teach them.  They always have a lot of questions.  

As I made my rounds,  ensuring everyone had practiced, I was stopped by a man.  He asked if I would be willing to be his "patient," while he practiced. Of course I said yes and took a seat.  

Once he finished taking my BP, he practiced his english skills.  He took a seat next to me and began asking about the paracord bracelet I was wearing. He wanted to know where I got it and if I had one for him.  I answered his questions politely then tried to go finish my rounds.  That's when I realized I was trapped. 

It turns out that I was talking to "Monsieur Casanova." He was a lover of women, and an American would be a wonderful addition to his collection.  He continued to flirt with me, finding any reason to touch me.  To make matters worse, his english wasn't that great. Half the time I didn't even know what he was saying.  

I called out to one of the translators, Freddie,  for help.  That flopped.  It turns out that they were friends.  Freddie was his english teacher. Monsier Casanova told Freddie something and he walked off laughing. 

Apparently, Monsieur Casanova was politely showing interest in Tchadian culture.  Men can do almost anything to women because they are the superior species. Freddie understood what was happening, and didn't try to stop Monsieur Casanova because it was a honor he was paying me heed.  However, I was technically Casanova's teacher. That means I am on a higher pedestal then him.  Monsieur Casanova shouldn't have been treating me the way he was. To bad they view me as a woman, not a teacher.  Trust and believe I will fight for the correct title.

My First Sabbath

My allergies were so bad last night.  I was sneezing, I had trouble breathing, and could not sleep. In the end I only got 3 hours of sleep. It was such a struggle to get through the rest of the day.  

We went to the english sabbath school, which was lead by one of the doctors. I was a bobble head the whole time; I could not keep my eyes open. I did a little better during church because there were so many new experiences. Their choir would dance as the congregation sang and sometimes we would have to stand.  Moving kept me awake.

I stayed awake for the sermon because it was infuriating. The elder was preaching about the role of a women "based on the Bible," while one of the Bere boys translated for us.The sermon started with a surprise. The elder proclaimed that both men and women are equal. The Tchadian culture views men as superior to women, so this was unusual. If he continued on that track it would have been a decent sermon. Too bad he didn't.

The elder said that women are only equal on international women's day, once a year. Then he transition to how women should be for the other 364 days of the year.  Quoting Bible verses about women like 1 Timothy 2:11 out of context, he spoke of how a women should be submissive. To make it worse some of the Bere boys were saying amen! (Just in case I never explained who the Bere boys are, they are boys who were "adopted" into the hospital. They are always on the compound helping us out , eating with us, etc. They are awsome people. Most of the boys have parents, but their living conditions aren't the best. That is why Tammy and Jaime - one of the hospital couples - took them in.)

After the sermon, we sat the Bere boys down and asked them if they really believed what the pastor said. For the most part all of them believed what he said.  Many of them said that they would never beat their wife, which is amazing for a Tchadian to say. We showed them the Bible verses in context trying to explain why we were upset, but they didn't understand or didn't concede. It was very sad.

All of the Bere staff only have one wife and don't beat their wife because of fear.  It all goes back to fear. Bere Hospital is an Adventist institution, therefore, we have to be a light unto the world.  If the Tchadians want to follow a different lifestyle they will be terminated.  There is no other way of upholding the SDA values and working with the Tchadians.

After church I took an hour nap then went to potluck.  The food was really good.  Everyone says that potluck is one of the few times we can eat American food. Yet another reason to look forward to Sabbath. The only other tradition for Sabbath is putting on satellite Sabbath school. This Sabbath School is call the naked Sabbath school for good reason. 

There is a quartier (it is loosely translated as a small district) 2 kilomiters away from the hospital.  Most of the children who come to this Sabbath school are naked. It seemed like the younger they were, the less clothing they had.  They sang song in French, and one of the Bere boys, Tamdiga, taught the lesson.  

It was explained to me that the way to reach the adults is through the children. The more noise they hear coming from the Sabbath school, the more people come. The prayer is that enough people will come to Sabbath school to warrant building a church. 

There seems to be a trend in Tchad - it more like a game called "let's freak out the SMs." We were trying to play capture the flag in the dark. We were all bored and wanted to do something fun on the compound.  Zach, the assistant project coordinator, walked in and was about to drop a load in the bathroom before the game. I had to pee, so I asked to go first. 

As soon as I walked out the bathroom I saw Zach kneeling on the floor. Someone was yelling, "someone run and get a doctor," so I ran and grabbed everyone I could find. By the time we made it back to the SM hut Zach was in the bathroom with the major case of diarrhea.

Apparently, while I was using the bathroom Zach was talking to the rest of the SMs.  They said he still had a smile on his face as he crumple to the floor.  He was in a daze and unresponsive.  After various quetions and assessments the doctors concluded that it was caused by contaminated food. 

Zach blacked out once more, but was fine.  Thank God we were with him and able to get help quickly. Other then the assistant project coordinators, Zach and Charis, no one else got the runs. They had the same host family cooking for them, so it makes sense. They now have charcoal and are on a close watch. They should be in tip-top shape soon.