Lasts...

This is my last week in Togo.

My last week on the Africa Mercy.

My last week working in the pharmacy.

My last fire drill was this afternoon.

Today was the last day of surgery.

Tomorrow will be the last day for the dental team.

Next week, the Oak Foundation Hospital will discharge it's last patient.

Soon enough, my last sleep on the ship will come and pass. So will the last time that I scan out and say, "Goodbye." to the Gurkhas. Soon enough, it will be the last time that I lock the door to cabin 3429. The last time I do laundry on Deck 6.

Last night was already the last time that I baked cookies. I've already attended my last hospital devotions, community devotions, auxiliary team devotions, and community meeting.

Tomorrow will be my last day of work.

Soon, I will be saying my goodbyes...giving out a few hugs...waving as the Land Rovers roll out of the port.

It seems that in this transitional community, there are so many firsts and so many lasts.

Let's just agree that this isn't "Goodbye"; it's just "Until we meet again."

A hui hou.

Wee Word Wednesday - Hula Hoop

The last two Saturdays, we've had a hula hoop in our box of toys to bring to the orphanage, Maison Bethel. Now, I don't mean to brag...but once upon a time, I used to be a hula hoop champion.

I've successfully taught a few of the kids there (including my little friend, Veronica or Vero for short) how to hula hoop. I also showed them a few other tricks and fun stuff that you can do with a hula hoop. It's been a blast from the past teaching them how to do these things!

(All photos courtesy of Dr. Leo Cheung)

What do you do?

I don't know if I've ever told you guys about a little girl named Lovelace. She was a possible patient here on the Africa Mercy back in April/May. I say possible, because at the time, all we knew is that this little 5 year old had two rapid growing tumors. She and her father came on board to see if there was any way that Mercy Ships could help them. After weeks of waiting on tissue biopsy reports to come back, the answer was "No, we can't help."

And, it's not that we didn't want to help. Little Lovelace just had a tumor that is inoperable, which leaves our hands tied in helping her, even though the desire to do so was great. In the six weeks that she was here, waiting to see what the results would be, a lot of us in the hospital fell in love with her. It was hard not to. She was quiet, but gentle and oh so very sweet. She spoke English, since she was from Ghana, which made the ability to communicate and get to know her a lot easier than it is to do with our Togolese patients, who usually speak either Ewe or French.

A drawback to her being from Ghana is that our Palliate Care Team (the nurse, Harriet, is my cabinmate) cannot go to see her. She lives about 2 hours from the ship...and in between the ship and her home is also a country line. Just a few more complications in helping this litte one...a few more reasons for people to forget about her.

Luckily, she hasn't been forgotten, and she has an amazing father who wants to make sure that she has the best care possible. If you had clicked on the link for Lovelace's name in the opening of this blog, you would've been directed to a friend's blog. Sarah is a nurse here on the Africa Mercy. She and a few of the other nurses here have been to visit Lovelace a few weeks ago, only to note that her condition has worsened. And yesterday, her father showed up on the dock, with no where else to turn to, but to us here on the Mercy Ship to help his little girl. After consulting with our newest max-fax doctor on board, we were able to send Lovelace's father back to Ghana with a supply of more dressings (for her open head tumor), pain killers (as I have heard that she is no longer up and walking due to pain), and some steriods to hopefully help with her pain and stimulate her appetite (a common thing in palliative care).

Now, before I came to Mercy Ships, I worked on a palliative care unit. So the uses and the doses of the drugs were something that I was comfortable with recommending and dispensing. The thing that broke my heart was that this...whatever this was...was the most that we could do for her. I know that a lot of people would care to argue with me and say that what we are doing is a lot and it is enough. But, when you come from a first-world country, and you know what is available to those who are palliative...you know and understand just how limited we are here. And, it can be frustrating. We are here to help...but how much are we actually helping? Who's going to check up on this little one? Who is going to make sure the medication is controlling her pain and that she isn't suffering from side-effects? Who is going to see that she is eating and getting the nutrients that she needs? Who's going to know if she will pass away peacefully and relatively pain-free...hopefully surrounded by her loving family? What are they going to do, if she lives beyond the means of medications that we've given her and the Mercy Ship is gone?

So...what do you do? You do the very best that you can, with the means that are available to you, while keeping that patient's best interest in mind. And, you pray to God that it's enough...

And, that's exactly what I did last night, alone in the dispensary. I prayed that in this situation that seems so hopeless and sad...that my God show Himself mighty, merciful, and loving. Harriet welcomed me to her world, as she is already wondering what she is going to do with her patients when the ship sails.

So, now...I am asking you to pray...for our little Lovelace and the other patients that our palliative care team takes care of. Some times, when you don't know what to do, or what else there is to do...the best thing to do is pray.

Wee Word Wednesday - BBQs

Being a dual citizen of the United States of America and Canada...the first weekend in July is usually a pretty big deal for me. In that one weekend, I am celebrating Canada Day (July 1) and Independence Day (July 4).

Back home, in either country, this usually means BBQs and fireworks. Here in Lomé it meant BBQs sans fireworks. But, being so far from either home, I'll definitely take what I can get!

(pics from left to right: 1) lucky for us, Jesse, our chief chef on the Africa Mercy, is a Canadian and from Calgary, too! 2) the wonderful spread at the Canadian BBQ 3) having fun in the pool 4) the 4th of July BBQ on the dock.)

Faith like an African?

My time here aboard the Africa Mercy is slowing winding to a close. And as that time dwindles, the question of, "Hey, do you think you'd ever come back?" continues to weigh heavy on my mind. Not that this is a question I haven't been considering since the very first day I stepped on board. But, it seems like it's something that I should likely answer sooner rather than later. And, even at that...I've kind of already answered that question, but just wanted to serve out my first commitment here to see if I felt the same way about that answer now as I did then. Capiche?

A few weeks ago, a friend, who is African, and I were having a casual conversation. And, this question came up...as it always does, especially when you're chatting with someone who is here on a longer term commitment than you.

My answer is and continues to be, "I would love to come back...but (the ever inevitable 'but') there are just a few things at home that should probably be taken care of first before I dedicate more time to missions." Another friend, Hannah, and I joke (with a bit of seriousness behind it) that we should come back in 2012, so then at least we'd know someone here on the ship and have someone to hang out with (Especially since the turn over here is so high. In a matter of months, the crew could look entirely different to what it was at the beginning of an outreach. Trust me, I know.).

My friend asked me to elaborate on what I meant...and I explained the things that I felt needed to be done before I could consider coming back...not to mention having to plan my 10 year high school reunion for next year. As I spoke, my friend picked up on the heart of all of it...the issue was whether or not I would be able to do it on my own. Would I be able to save enough? Would I be able to deal with stuff? Could I get it all done on my own, and what did I think a reasonable time line would be?

Are you picking up on what's missing here like my friend did? Yeah...it's missing God's plan for me and His ability to provide for me. It's missing faith in believing that God will help me through whatever it is that I am supposed to be doing with my life.

My friend told me that part of my problem is that I am not African. He said that here in Africa, because they don't have the means that we do in Canada and America...they just take steps of faith and trust that God will follow through, if that's what God really wants for their lives. He said that when he committed to coming here, he didn't have everything he needed to be in order on his own before he came. He just knew that he wanted to be here, felt that he was called to serve with Mercy Ships, and prayed that God would follow through and fill in all the missing holes.

Not that I at all don't appreciate where I am from and the means that I have been blessed with in my life. I do. But, perhaps he is right, and I have come to a place, or have always been in a place in my life, where I don't feel I have to depend on anyone else to get what I want or do what I want. And, I know (my mom tells me all the time) that most times, I am bit too independent...and I am sure that a lot of it stems from not having to be dependent on someone else, and also not wanting to have to be in a place to depend on someone else.

But, sometimes, I wish I had faith like an African.

Wee Word Wednesday - Getting around...

Let's just say, that I've had some pretty interesting adventures just trying to get around here in West Africa. These pictures give you just a small idea of what we see and go through in our travels...

Wee Word Wednesday - MIA

Now, often times, I know that MIA is an acronym used for "missing in action". And while that still does apply, I'd like to also note that it could stand for "missing in Africa".

Some of you may be wondering what I am going on about...but, yesterday, Miriam went on vacation for 3 weeks...effectively leaving me as the only pharmacist on board...and kind of the only one in the pharmacy.

Not that I begrudge her going on vacation...it's a whopper of a wedding dash across countries that she's doing...it just means that I miss her.

Hope you have a fabulous time away, Miriam! But, I'll be a bit selfish and say that I am looking forward to your return. :-)

Mighty Ships...

I don't know if any of you guys remember me talking about a film crew from Discovery Channel Canada that was here on the Africa Mercy when we were sailing from Tenerife to Togo. If you do remember, that was back in January/February of this year. The crew was with us during the 11 days of sailing and the two weeks leading up to the hospital opening for it's first day of surgery.

I don't know everything or anything that it will cover. We have yet to see it here on the Africa Mercy ourselves...but, I imagine that it would cover aspects of ship life, getting the hospital set up after sailing, and I do believe that they followed a patient or two from screening to operation.

So...if you live in Canada...check it out. I believe that it first airs tomorrow, Wednesday June 23rd. To view the link and the details, click here. If you live anywhere else in the world other than Canada, I don't know if you'll be able to watch it...but if there is a way, I'll be sure to let you know!

Wee Word Wednesday - VVF

The beginning of the month marked the start of VVF...

There is lots of celebration around the ladies that are brought here on the ship for surgery.

When their surgeries are over, and declared a success (meaning that they dry and no longer leaking urine), a dress

ceremony is held. They start off in another room, where they are given a new dress, a clean dress, a dress that was never touched by the constant leak of urine. They get their makeup done, and a headdress

placed upon their heads.

The ceremony then begins with...yes, lots of singing and dancing. They come down the corridor in the Oak Fountain Hospital, singing songs of praise and thanksgiving to God. And of course, we, the Mercy Shippers are there, to join in with them in song and dance.

We are there to hear their stories...

...stories of being exiled from their villages and communities, stories of heartbreak over the loss of a baby through difficult labor, stories of being abandoned by friends, family, and husbands.

But, in the end, theirs is not a story to end in sorrow. Theirs is a story to end with the chance of life, and life abundant. All thanks to a simple operation done here on the ship.

And so it continues...

Last Sunday, my friend, Hannah, and I got invited to have dinner with one of the families onboard here. Not gonna lie to you, I felt like it was quite an honor to be invited over and have dinner with them in their cabin. Please also note, family cabins are awesome...especially in comparison to my open four berth.

It was really great for me to sit and chat with this family from Ghana, the Bineys. They have such an amazing story, and lots to know and share. I learned quite a bit about them (and I am sure, through conversation, they learned a lot about me and Hannah.). It was great to hear about the history of Mercy Ships and the making of the Africa Mercy through their eyes, as they were a part of it.

As always, the cultural differences and similarities struck me. It was interesting to hear the culture shock that they went through, both here on the ship (which, evidently does have it's own culture) and when they went to the "western world". You see, the Bineys are from a "hot-climate" culture...very community oriented, very warm (in personality and greetings), very open, very inclusive. Hawai'i is also a "hot-climate" culture...but, Canada is the opposite...yep you guessed it, it's a "cold-climate" culture. Not saying that they aren't warm in personality. But, in general, they go about things differently. "Cold-climate" cultures are more exclusive, more time-oriented, task-oriented, and selective in sharing and greetings (I hope that makes sense...in order to fully get what I am saying, check out a book that they recommend here on the ship called, 'Foreign-to-Familiar' by Sarah A. Lanier.). Being here on the ship, I have learned so much about myself...and where certain characteristics of mine can be attributed to.

The Bineys told me how they had to adjust and realize that people not greeting you and not asking how you are doing isn't because they don't like you and are snubbing you. It's just a cultural custom. Learning things like this and knowing where people come from can help you to understand what they do and why, to some degree. I guess, in part, it also explains why I went through some culture shock when I first moved to Canada. It's realizing that the little things that you didn't know were ingrained in you aren't necessarily ingrained in everyone else.

However, I think that the thing that struck me the most, and that I walked away cherishing is...realizing how important it is to play your part in the body of Christ. To know, that even if you don't feel like you are needed or a vital part...you actually are.

They were telling me how on the Anastasis, people on the ship would know when a surgery was over. How? It was announced...well, sort of, they announced that the patient transport team was needed. And, I guess now you are wondering why there was a patient transport team. It's because on the Anastasis (unlike the Africa Mercy), the OR was on a different deck than the wards. So, people from Deck and Engineering would take shifts on the patient transport team and carry the patients down to the wards when their surgery was over. Agnes said that it was nice. Nice knowing what was going on in the hospital...nice to be in the business of working for smiles.

And, it was wonderful for me to hear this perspective. Agnes works in HR, her husband works in the Engineering department. They aren't involved in the hospital at all. But, to see their joy in playing their part of making this ship work...it was amazing for me. It really made me sit back and re-evaluate my stance on things. I guess the adjustment continues.

Once again, God shows me that there is a reason to why I am here. There is a reason as to why I am a pharmacist. He has given me my role to play. He has put all the parts together to make an intricate work environment to bring glory and honor to His name. Who am I to tell Him that it should be any other way?

Once again, He's showing me and teaching me to find the joy in this journey of life that we are walking through together. It's not always easy playing the part that He has laid out for me, but in the end, my part is needed...however insignificant or significant I personally deem it.

¹²The body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts; and though all its parts are many, they form one body. So it is with Christ. ¹³For we were all baptized by one Spirit into one body—whether Jews or Greeks, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink.

¹⁴Now the body is not made up of one part but of many. ¹⁵If the foot should say, "Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body," it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body.¹⁶And if the ear should say, "Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body," it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body. ¹⁷If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? ¹⁸But in fact God has arranged the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. ¹⁹If they were all one part, where would the body be? ²⁰As it is, there are many parts, but one body.

²¹The eye cannot say to the hand, "I don't need you!" And the head cannot say to the feet, "I don't need you!" ²²On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable,²³and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, ²⁴while our presentable parts need no special treatment. But God has combined the members of the body and has given greater honor to the parts that lacked it, ²⁵so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. ²⁶If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.

²⁷Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.

- 1 Corinthians 12:12-27 (NIV)

How happy am I to know that He doesn't give up on a work in progress?
And how lucky am I to also be in the business of working for smiles?

Wee Word Wednesday - Knitting

Remember how I told you about that Tuesday night thing that I do down at the Hospitality Center? Well...it looks like maybe, they're picking up what we're putting down...

Thanks to one of our photographers here on board, Tom Bradley, for capturing these shots and showing us that our efforts and our time spent with the patients at the hospitality center are not in vain.

In other news, just read an update on one of our patients, Aissa. If you all could stand in the gap and pray for this little one, I would be ever so grateful.

Big Splash...

It's rainy season here...

And, unlike places that I am used to like Vancouver, British Columbia...it doesn't rain for days on end or lightly here. I have found that it's usually a torrential downpour and for less than an hour at a time. Even though that may not seem like very long, it does quite a number to the roads, especially since there aren't any real drainage systems in place here.

Hopefully, the video loaded properly (I can't test it here on the ship, as we can't stream video.). But, this depicts what our drive to and from the orphanage looks like. So far, we haven't gotten stuck in a puddle...but we have had to change a spare tire or two.



Even though I know the water is dirty (It smells badly after you've disturbed the it.)...somehow, the rainy season has made puddles fun again (especially when in Land Rovers or Nissans).

And...I must say, I love it when it rains. It reminds me of the warm rains back home in Hawai'i...and last night, I couldn't help but play in it. :-)

Need to adjust...but what?

If I am going to be honest here and say what's been on my mind...

The last two weeks have been hard ones. They were awful. Most days, I wanted to cry or pull my hair out. Instead, I ended up closing the "chatting door" (the half door to the front room of the pharmacy) or laying on the floor in the pharmacy (very therapeutic, I must admit). Just to get a moment of reprieve, just to have some time to shut the rest of the world out.

Over the weekend, I had to take a step back and wonder what was going on. I was grumpy most days than not, short tempered, and easily flustered or frustrated. One slightly unpleasant interaction in the morning could ruin my precarious mood and spoil my entire day. All by some thing that should've been easy to shake off!

In part, I came here hoping that if there was any way that God could redeem the profession I got educated in - surely it would be here, surely by using my skills to serve Him and a greater purpose beyond my own. In the short 4 years that I have been a pharmacist, I have encountered a lot of things that have disillusioned the job for me. All too often, people would rather treat you like a customer service agent, rather than a specialist. All too often, people will have no qualms about taking out their frustrations with waiting to see the doctor on you, when all you asked was for 15 minutes of their time. Too many times...and yet, I have a hard time believing that God would've opened so many doors for my education just to have me ditch it without showing me what I am to do next.

These past two weeks haven't helped that perception, even though I am working in a hospital and not a community pharmacy (i.e. Safeway, Walgreens, Wal-Mart). When I stepped outside of my offenses, and listened to what others were saying around me, I realized...we've somewhat hit a wall of sorts. We are more than half-way through our outreach here in Togo. Everyone is getting tired; everyone is getting stressed; everyone is getting frustrated. It happens. We work hard, we encounter lots of changes, and some times, we don't get the down time that we need to recharge and regroup for the next week ahead of us.

Now, I don't know about you, but when I am frustrated, I find that someone else getting frustrated with me or at me doesn't really help the situation or ease the emotional tension. So, over the weekend, I sat on this and thought about it. I knew that I could continue on getting frustrated and losing it over little things...and being irate when people decide that things should be done one way, when they've always been done another way...since the beginning of the outreach. This is something that's easy to get mad about, but at the same time, I realized that I had to take into consideration that there is such a high change over here on the ship, and in the hospital. Not all of the nurses that are down there right now were with us in the beginning. It's pretty overwhelming being thrown into an entirely new work and living environment...and it's easy to get things mixed up or not really know how things are supposed to be done.

But, I knew that something needed to change...something needed an adjustment. And, not just in respect to the outreach here...but perhaps to my job in general.

This week, I decided that I would do things a little differently. This week, I decided that perhaps I should be nice to people. That rather than responding in frustration, to respond in kindness. I don't know about you, but when I am stressed or frustrated, I am more receptive to someone who will come along side me gently and help me through whatever is at hand...rather than just be irritated with me and looking at me like I asked an erroneous question. And shock of all shocks (please note that there is a bit of sarcasm in there)...people have been nice back. I am learning that you get a better return on gently showing someone something then just saying no, you're wrong and I am right. Yes, shocking, I know. If you think that I am lying to you or that my results over the past few days are skewed, I suggest you try it.

Although it's working now after the adjustment is made, I am sure I will find that all to soon that adjustment will need realignment. Time and time again. And time and time again, I am sure that I will be thankful for His grace.

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weakness, so that Christ's power my rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in the weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."

- 2 Corinthians 12: 9-10

I know that my perceptions often leave me thinking that people don't appreciate the work that we do in the pharmacy. It's easy to take slights from others when they weren't really intended, to take them personally and as an assault on your own abilities. It's not true. Even though our work in the pharmacy is behind the scenes, even though we don't get a lot of glamor shots to be shared with people around the world who can't see what we do for work...

I know that, indeed, our work is needed and appreciated. And, again I am thankful for the grace that helps me to see that.

Wee Word Wednesday - Pharmacy Notes

Not going to lie to you...some times, working behind the scenes, especially in a place like this - where so much emphasis is placed on the life-changing surgeries that people receive, it's easy to feel unappreciated. I am sure that goes to say about any behind the scenes job or ministry. (No worries, I am planning on writing more about this later.)

However, this all too often can be just a perception, and not the truth or the heart of the matter. I am reminded of this when I get notes like these on the pharmacy door:


It's nice to be reminded every now and again, that your job (and likewise, your ministry) does matter. And that, in spite of what you think or how you feel...it is appreciated. :-)

Wee Word Wednesday - Incineration...

Ever wonder what happens to medications when they are no good? Ever wanted to know how they are destroyed?

Well...lucky for you, you have to wonder no longer! Now, there are many ways to denature and destroy medication...but, here on the ship, we do it by way of incineration. Tonight, Miriam and I had the opportunity to incinerate LOTS of medication.

First, we had to pack all the medication to be destroyed into brown paper bags. This makes it easier to place in the incinerator, without things melting to it...or something like that. Then, we filled a drum full of those paper bags...which then got lowered down to Deck 2 (the Engine Room) from Deck 3 (in the Hospital).

This is the incinerator. Exciting, no?

You can't see it, but the incinerator is reading about 840 degrees Celcius...which equals about 1544 degrees Fahrenheit for all of you who may operate in that temperature measurement. All in all...HOT!

Refueled...

I have once heard a quote that goes something like this:

“We need 4 hugs a day for survival. We need 8 hugs a day for maintenance. We need 12 hugs a day for growth."

Not to say that I am a "touchy" person...but with the friends that I have back home, I have come to enjoy and even look forward to hugs and cuddles. I'm also not saying that there aren't people like that here on the Africa Mercy...but, some times it's just a weird environment to come right out and start randomly hugging people. Then again, not to say that I would do that. I would selectively hug people.

Miriam and I once had a conversation about this in the pharmacy. I guess one day, I was feeling like my love tank was running a little low. I stopped and figured out that I don't get hugged much here. We deduced that it's because, even if you are a person to show affection, you don't necessarily do it right away with people you "just meet" (And you happen to "just meet" lots of people here on the ship.). You usually wait until you know someone well enough to know that they would be okay with and even reciprocate a hug every now and again. And slowly, I am finding people here who like to hug...and I welcome the hugs that come my way...usually (Just a note to explain the usually - I often get hugs when I'm in a bad mood in the pharmacy.).

Yet, inspite of all that...I find that my love tank gets refueled at the orphanage, the Maison Bethel...usually when I'm not so aware that it was low. So much so, that I don't really know who gets loved on more...me or those kids. I always leave there on Saturdays, beaming, so happy that I went...so happy to love and to be loved on.

I have really enjoyed my time with the kids at the orphanage. To me, they're amazing. They share well, they look out for one another, yet they teach one another and toughen up the little ones (In a good way, of course. Two weekends ago, a little 2 (?) year old boy named Jean threw a bit of the fit on the swing with me, because he didn't want Veronica sitting next to me. So, an older boy, Lolo, picked him up, set him on the ground outside of the swing, and let him cry for a bit. When Jean came back to sit on my lap, he didn't fuss one bit more about Veronica being by my side.).

I have become some what of a regular there. And, slowly but surely, I am learning all their names...learning who the quiet ones are, who is a bit naughty, who nurtures, who shares and who needs to learn how to share. As soon as I enter the orphanage and sit down, I usually have Veronica in my lap. She lavishes me endlessly with hugs and follows me around and has me help her with the craft of the week. It's awesome. Yet, I watch her and see that she is willing to share. She gives her snacks to others, will trade coloring pencils with others, and will even let someone else occupy my lap - as I had a sleeping baby there just this past Saturday.

I am hoping, that in the end, when I leave there every Saturday, those kids are left beaming, happy that we came to spend time with them, happy to love and be loved on. And, although there is a language barrier there, and I can't speak freely with them as I would like to...I'm hoping and praying that the language of Love speaks volumes to them, and speaks volumes to their hearts. That it lets them know that they are loved...and that He loves them.

Me and my friend, Veronica

Hannah, with Angela on her back, and Lea beside her

Wee Word Wednesday - AFM Film Festival

This past Saturday, we had a film festival here on the Africa Mercy. It was an opportunity for the crew members to get their creative juices flowing, and show the rest of the crew what they can do. It was also a "black-tie" event...and it was really cool seeing everyone all dressed up! Don't get me wrong, I love living in scrubs and slippers, but I think that we all clean up pretty nice.

Hannah and I just before heading up to partake in the night

The lovely ladies that I went to Ghana with...quite a bit of a difference from our last group photo!

These are my friends...they won Best Film at the Film Festival!

:-)

I Got It From My Mama...

So, this evening, I did something a little different. And, even though I was a bit apprehensive at first - I ended up having a blast...and am more than likely to do it again.

So, a few weeks back, I noticed on our rolling announcements (slides that run continuously on our closed circuit channel) that they were looking for people who can crochet and knit to come and volunteer at the Hospitality Center.

For those of you who are wondering what the hospitality center is...it's a place off the ship where we have patients...both pre- and post-operation patients. These patients usually live far away from the ship and may either need more time to recuperate or have more appointments to make on-ship, but don't need the medical attention of the hospital. I hope that made sense. It sounds a bit jumbled in my head.

Anyhow, anytime I contemplate doing something new and different (seeing as how I hadn't had time to venture over to the Hospitality Center yet)...I get a bit anxious about things. This time around, I wondered if I knew enough to teach the patients. I worried about how I would communicate how to do the craft to someone else, seeing as how I barely speak any French and can never really remember how to even say "Hello" in Ewe...not to mention the whole host of other local languages and dialects that are spoken. All that aside...I also wondered if they would like me and be receptive to this 'Yovo'.

And of course, when in doubt...try to get others to do it with you! So, I ended up finding 3 other friends to accompany me and help teach knitting and crochet to the people at the Hospitality Center. Hannah and Sarah know how to knit, and Aimee and I crochet.

At 6 pm, we met up and caught a shuttle to the Hospitality Center (There are Mercy Ships vehicles [aka shuttles] that go there often over the course of the day, usually to help bring our discharged patients to their new temporary Mercy Ships home off the ship.). It wasn't too long of a ride, but definitely bumpy...and it was amazing to see what a day of rain did to the roads here in Lomé (Welcome to the rainy season.).

As we drove into the compound, we could see the tent where the patients hang out outside...along with so many familiar faces from the hospital. It was nice to see those faces, and I think that those faces were happy to see ours, too. Stepping out from the back of the Land Rover, I got attacked by little ones, even having little Aissa give me a huge bear hug and then proceed to hang herself off of my body, wrapping her legs around mine (making it near impossible to move or to even bend over and pick her up properly.).

We got ushered into the Hospitality Center by one of our fellow Mercy Shippers there, Ellen. She gave us a quick tour of the place, since it was my first time there...and then showed us the craft room where we gathered supplies, were given a few quick and brief instructions, then sent outside to mingle with the patients.

Each of us set out in search of someone, anyone to teach. Aimee got some quality one-on-one time with a lady sitting off by herself. I didn't get very far into the tent when I sat down with some mamas and pulled out yarn and crochet needles. Before I knew it, I was surrounded by people - mamas, young girls, little kiddos, and even a few males who wanted to see what I was doing and learn a bit of it for themselves. I didn't really know how to tell them what we were doing...but 'the see what I am doing, then do what I am doing' method seemed to work for a bit. Luckily enough, one of our day volunteers at the Hospitality Center came over and started translating for me. It was a bit of a life saver. I was really getting into it and having fun...when we were notified that it was dinner time for everyone.

Resigning that we should probably let them all eat, we gathered the left over yarn and needles, and packed everything back into the Center. Even though my new friends there didn't master the art of crochet yet, I got lots of hugs and thanks for my efforts anyways.

And that to me, my friends...is some time well spent.

Thanks to my mom who taught me how to crochet when I was a little girl. Now, I'm just hoping to pass a little bit of what I know on. You know, pay it forward and all.

Wee Word Wednesday - Weekends

These past two weekends have been amazing...

I've had the chance to return to Ghana during the first weekend of May...only this time do to an all girls hiking trip to Wli Waterfalls, the largest waterfalls in West Africa.

(Right: The upper fall that we hiked to on Saturday;
Left: The lower falls, which is an easy 30 minute walk from the town)

(Right: The girls at the upper falls, after our long, but rewarding hike there;
Left: Us again, but this time on Sunday, in front of our mean green taxi-bus thing, before heading back to the ship.)

This past weekend ended up being a lot more relaxing than anticipated...but it was definitely welcomed. A few friends and I headed east of Togo this time, to the country of Benin. We spent the weekend in a small town called Possotome on Lake Aheme. Here, we just chilled, and spent a morning learning how to fish from the villagers. Needless to say...if we had to fish for our lives, pretty sure that we'd starve...



Now, don't get me wrong...this isn't how I normally spend my weekends here. But, sometimes, it's nice to get away. However...it's always great to be back. :-)

Wee Word Wednesday - Blood Connections

Remember when I told you two months ago about me giving blood?

Now, I'd love to share a few pictures of the patient that received that blood.

Meet Lawson...

This is what Lawson looked like before the surgery. He had a rather large, bilateral ameloblastoma.

Now, this is Lawson a few weeks post recovery.

He will still have a few more surgeries to go to complete his facial reconstruction...

but, the difference initially is still astounding!

(To read more about Lawson's story and a few of our other patient's stories...

check out my friend, Naomi's blog...)

On not so medically related notes...

My parents have been really cute in sending me cards and magnets...

one was featured as my first Wee Word Wednesday...

Here are the latest two to make it to me on the Africa Mercy.