17 days I have enjoyed the company of friends and family.
17 days I have eaten every type of food I could dream of.
17 days I have showered for longer than 2 minutes.
17 days I have had sanitary bathroom facilities.
17 days I have spoken American English.
17 days I have not argued in broken french/english with taxi drivers.
17 days I have driven my car on nicely paved roads with speed limits and no honking.
17 days I have gone to bed without dirty feet and sweat stains all over my clothes.
17 days I have slept in the most comfortable and spacious bed ever.
But for 17 days all I have been thinking about is how I would give back every single one of these luxuries and more to be back in my country, Guinea.
Guinea didn't just steal my heart, it ripped it out of my chest, threw some dirt on it, added some French/Susu, mixed it with some rice and sauce, and drenched it in compassion and love. Living in a third world country will seriously screw up living in a first world country for you. The simple, basic, rugged, self - forgetful lifestyle just makes so much more sense than this luxurious, materialistic, self- obsessed lifestyle we can't seem to escape in the western world.
I would do literally anything to walk through the dirty streets on my way to the chaotic Niger Market while avoiding getting hit by taxi drivers and waving at children from across the street. But I'm over 3500 miles away and about $3000 short of this. There is nothing I can do. I'm stuck in my comfy bed with my electricity that always works and a glass of clean cold water that came from the tap in my bathroom.
"So how was Africa?"
If I had a dollar for how many times I have been asked this question since I've been home, I would have the money to go back. I have had a really hard time answering this question though for some reason.
"It was so good"
"It was a great experience, definitely the best thing I've ever done"
"It was great I miss it so much already"
"It was a life changing experience"
These responses are all awkward and inadequate. How do you summarize five months of your life and try to convey emotions and experiences, especially to people who have never seen poverty on a third world level?
Migna's story:
The first hospital patient I became friends with on the ship. Migna was pregnant and due to lack of health care, her baby was a still born and child birth complications caused her to become ostracized in her village where she worked as a farmer. She heard about Mercy Ships from a friend who heard about it on the radio. Migna decided to set out on journey with a few thousand Guinea Francs and the hope of being healed. She traveled for about five months from her village to Conakry. She would make money by washing people's clothes on the street. She finally made it to the ship where she saw white people for the first time in her life. She was scheduled to receive a VVF surgery. She had her surgery and for the first few days, there was no more urine leakage. The surgery seemed like a success when all of the sudden urine began to leak more and more until it seemed like the surgery had never even been done. Although it may have seemed like Minga's journey of pure faith and hope was all in vain, she left the ship with the same physical condition she came on with, but with a much different mental condition. Through the love of Jesus Christ shown through her nurses, surgeons, and everyone she came into contact with, Minga had hope for the first time in a very long time and went back to her village a changed woman.
Lazares Orphanage:
Psalm 10:14, "But You, O God, do see trouble and grief; you consider it to take it in hand. The victim commits himself to You; You are the helper of the fatherless."
I think I have found my calling: to run an orphanage in whatever third world country The Lord calls me to (hopefully Guinea ;)). I am obsessed with orphanages! Lazare's Orphanage is the first and only orphanage I have ever been to, but it was love at first sight. We pull up in our Mercy Ships Land Rover and all these big brown eyes and small hands peak out of the gate as we step out of the car. We walk through the gate off the bumpy red dirt road and at least five children were standing there with their arms reached high towards me. I pick up two, a little boy (David) and a little girl (both about three years old). We sit on the ground as the "tantees" (ladies who work at the orphanage) hand out crackers and water. Shortly after it's bible story time. After a story and arts and crafts, one of the older boys closes us in prayer (said in french, so stinkin cute). While holding sweet David as he plays with his blue balloon, I talk with one of the tantees who is a volunteer from Canada and my age. She told me story after story about each of the kids. A light skinned brand new nameless baby girl who was found abandoned by train tracks probably by her prostitute mom who had sexual relations with a Lebanese mining company man. Children that are half white are looked down on in this culture, primarily because it means they were most likely conceived out of wedlock with a foreign man after the mother sold her body to him. What about the numerous boys who are 13 years old, but still there? They are all HIV/AIDS positive and therefore cannot be adopted. Ever. They will grow up in this orphanage until they are of age and can go get a job and support themselves. Or what about sweet David. Found by a family after his mother abandoned him, however this family used him as a slave to do all the chores around the house. He was found malnourished with scars on his body from beating and burns. He was extremely traumatized by his old lifestyle causing him to never talk or interact with anybody. However, David is being adopted by a couple in California as soon as all of the paperwork is finished. While this orphanage is doing amazing things for the orphaned children of Guinea, there are still thousands more in the country who don't get the opportunity to be cared for and maybe eventually adopted.
El Presidant's Story:
This little boy. His smile, his run, his voice. I fell in love. His nickname was "El Presidant" because he always had to be in charge of the hospital ward or Hope Center. He is a natural born leader with sass and attitude big enough to intimidate a grown man. When he walked into the room, all eyes were immediately focused on him. He didn't used to be like this, however. El Presidant had Noma. Noma is a flesh eating infection primarily affecting children under the age of six in poverty stricken countries. His Noma caused a hole in his entire left cheek and part of his lip and eye. He went from being a perfectly normal healthy adorable little boy to an ostracized, extremely self conscience, and rejected child. He never left his home and when he walked into a room, he hid his face in embarrassment. He followed behind his family since his friends stopped hanging out with him. This disease that only occurs in third world countries confined El Presidant and prevented him from being the leader and ball of energy he was not only born to be, but entitled to be. Through Jesus Christ and endless hugs, kisses, and words of encouragement of Mercy Shippers, El Presidant has achieved the perfectly fitting nickname. After his third surgery, this is what El Presidant looked like. His fourth and final surgery has him looking almost perfectly "normal". All the glory be to God.
So how was Africa?
It was hard, painfully awakening, dirty, unorganized, hopeless at times, frustrating, poverty stricken, and corrupt ....
But it was also beautiful, amazing, eye opening, hilarious, loving, simple, rural, mango-filled, warm, hopeful, community oriented, and the most amazing blessing I have ever received/experienced.
Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy." Proverbs 31: 8-9
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