Even though I've been here for 5 months now, I'm still having all sorts of new experiences. I know I'm waaaay overdue for an update, so I'll try to have another one posted in the next week or two to bring you all up to date.
Back in January we decided to put on their much-anticipated VBS, headed up by Bri and Chelsea, for all the village kids. We went throughout the village to pass out little invitations because we hoped that we would have a good turn out. We definitely underestimated our numbers though. – The first day, we had 150 kids crowd into our little church, singing songs, doing puppet shows in Miskito, telling Bible stories, and finally giving them their promised snack. Every day we would ring the bell and wait for the kids to stream into the church. Every day more and more kids came until we ended with a grand finale on Friday with at least 200 kids! We were afraid we wouldn't have enough snacks for all of them since we'd only planned on 170 kids max. So in the middle of VBS, Edda and I ran to Polla's (the little supply shop in Francia) to grab another bag of cookies with the promise of repaying later that day. I'm so glad we did VBS; I feel like I know so many of the village kids now! One little boy, his name is Sumo, somehow thinks I am his mother. – He'll run up to me shouting, “Mamikam! Mamikam!” (“Mother!” in Miskito) and follow me wherever I go. We taught the kids “I've got Peace like A River” and Bri, Chelsea and I learned a song in Miskito as well! Sometimes now when kids spot us in the village they'll start timidly singing out one of the English songs we've taught them. It's very encouraging to me!
Along with having amazing new experiences like that, I also had another new experience that wasn't quite as thrilling. I was running around with some kids a few weeks ago, chasing them through ditches, up trees and around on the ground. I kicked off my flip-flops so I could run faster (mistake #1) - these kids are so stinkin fast! Well, I probably shouldn't be so liberal about chucking my shoes. When we finally started to wind things down, I noticed my toe felt a little strange. I looked at the bottom of my foot only to discover a huge sore – at least that's what it looked like. When I looked closer I noticed that it looked like little angel-hair pasta twisted up under the surface of my skin. The kids all gathered around and peered down at my foot then looked at me and announced: “Liwa!” or, “Parasite!” in English. Great! No more denying the fact that I don't have parasites. There was a huge worm that had moved right in and made himself at home in my toe. I wasn't in any pain, but at the same time, I didn't really want to share my toe with any worm for any longer than I had too. As soon as possible, I got the doctor to dig it out for me. That was the end of the worm, and as far as I know, I am happy to report that I am now worm-free!
A lot has changed recently at the mission. We got two new SM's. Chenai is a nurse and she arrived last week. She's already extremely busy in the village making house calls and taking care of patients in the clinic. The other SM is a Docter from Brazil. His name is Dr. Gerson and it's so exciting that we now have our own doctor on the hill!
Along with Chenai and Dr Gerson, the International Rescue and Releif program from Union College arrived last week! They spend their semester here doing survival training, jungle medicine, and structural development. I'm really excited to have them here! - I love meeting new people and it brings a lot more life to the hill when we suddenly have 28 people here instead of just 10! We are going to be a lot more active in the area now as well. With Union, we'll travel out to about 10 other villages to bring health care where they normally don't receive any. This includes week-long river trips and long hikes to get to these remote places - SO EXCITING!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
November in a BIG nutshell
Recently, we've all been especially noticing that we really HAVE undergone a lot of adjustments. So real fast, here are a few quirky examples of how we’ve adjusted to our Francia Sirpi life so far:
- In light of our insatiable obsession with bleaching everything we eat, Bri suddenly was inspired with a new nickname for her, Chelsea, and I; we are officially now the “bleach babes.” That’s right, that’s our savvy new term for ourselves. Sooo…maybe it’s not the most attractive nickname in the world, but it is accurate nevertheless.
- Our entertainment standards have really been readjusted since being here in Nicaragua. During evening worship, we usually all talk about the events of the day, and today we realized that announcing to the entire group that an airplane trail was spotted today was notable news. Oh dear.
- Also, here’s proof that I have actually adjusted to my new life here. The last time we went to Port, we were dismayed to discover that our toilet was stopped up. This was a problem, considering there were 5 girls in 1 room. We were finally able to track down a plunger and temporarily fix the problem, but finally we all started fussing to each other about how we wouldn’t be having problems like this if we had our outhouse back at the mission. We continued to discuss all the reasons why outhouses were better than flush toilets until one of us pointed out how ridiculous our argument was; who would choose an outhouse over a flush toilet?! We would, apparently…
~ Waspam Orphanage kiddos ~
Okay, so here’s an update on things that happened in November:
One night, I got attacked by fire ants again when I went down to shower. It was dusk and I thought I could get away with NOT bringing my flashlight. That was a bad idea because I couldn’t see where any of the ants were. They swarmed my feet and it sure felt like they were taking chunks of skin out, even though they weren’t… I’m not sure why it hurts so badly; It’s like getting stung by a bee. The worst part is that I didn’t even notice that they were all over the walls because it was too dark. They crawled into all my clothes so when I put them on, I started to get bit all over. Yes, now I have experienced the literal meaning of “ants in your pants.” (or rather, “FIRE ants in your pants.”) They need to stay OUT of my shower.
One Sabbath we had the great opportunity to travel to a neighboring village called Santa Clara to go to the Adventist church there. It ended up being a 6-mile round trip trek, but it wasn’t too bad actually, especially when I consider that if I were home, my parents might be wanting me to accompany them on one of those Sabbath afternoon death-hikes anyway. Haha
The biggest highlight of November was that, for the last couple weeks, we were lucky enough to have an academy group come to Francia on a school mission trip. We kicked it into high-gear going from only ten people at the mission to 40! It was great; I really loved the change in schedule, as well as the chance to meet a bunch of new people. They revamped Francia Sirpi by painting the SDA church, reroofing it, whitewashing the Adventist school, helping with clinic work, passing out vitamins and anti-parasite meds in the village, and doing VBS in the evenings. They were such a blessing to the people here, and even to us missionaries on the hill.
We originally rationed people to a bucket shower. We tested this strategy before the group came and us girls found it possible to take a complete wash-your-hair-shower with only 1 liter of water. Yes. You heard right. Dad, I’m sure you’re just bursting with happiness at this news. Luckily, God answered our prayer for rain and we were able to use more water after that.
One day, we were able to travel in a big dugout boat down the river on the northern border of Nicaragua – we jumped out on the opposite side of the river on a sandbar and that’s how you can illegally jump borders, folks. No passport required!
November just seemed to FLY by. Suddenly I have reached the 3 month mark of living here – and just today, reached the milestone of 100 days here! I can honestly say that there have been days that the only thing that has gotten me through was God. I think I’m finally learning to adapt and accept this culture, and I look forward to see what the next 6 months will bring.
I have posted a lot of pictures and written about a lot of the highlights of my mission experience so far, but honestly, there are a lot of times when life is just rough. However, I think I have finally reached the point where I am content to be here. God has always come through for me everytime I’ve called out to him. I’m contect to be here because I know God wants me here. That’s good enough for me.
~ Francia Sirpi Skyline ~
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Snippets of Life in Francia Sirpi
So I know it's been a while since I've had any contact with you all - even email contact - so I think it's time I catch you up on just a few of the highlights / headlines from last week.
One of the reasons we haven't been able to contact ya'll is that we've had incredibly cool weather lately; no solar power. We haven't had a lot of rain, but it's been overcast in the day and slightly chilly at night. We all broke out our sweatshirts for the first time! It's been so nice just to feel like I don't NEED to shower every night and not feel sticky all the time. Unfortunately, along with our cooler temperatures, our shower water temperature has nose-dived to the point where I think I might emerge from the shower with a mild case of hypothermia.
Also, ya'll might have seen pictures of guys' haircuts. Much to all the girls' dismay, the boys have not only decided to grow their beards out for the extent of our mission here, but now they also got into a macho-man mood and on a testosterone whim, they decided to shave their heads. I feel like they look more like hardcore motorcycle dudes or missionary skin-heads instead of missionary boys. . .
On Monday, Jerrica, Kaileen and I were working away in the MINSA clinic when suddenly we heard a crowd start to form outside and a huge wave of people came in the door shouting "Emergencia! Emergencia!" Behind them two guys walked in the door with their hands wrapped in bloody, dirty clothes. I guess they'd been working on their plantation and somehow cut themselves pretty badly with machetes. We worked on the guy who looked the most serious first and gingerly peeled back his dressing. He had stuffed a bunch of grass and leaves in his wound to use as a pressure dressing. Highly unsanitary, but effective. The guy bled pretty bad. While we were stitching him up blood actually started shooting out from the artery. Craziness! We got them all stitched up and it looks like the healing process is going pretty well now.
Oh, in other news, we got a pet tarantula. Yes.... I never thought it would come to this but, yes... We tried to feed him grasshoppers and geckos and cockroaches, but our tarantula didn't seem to be in a killing mood even after 3 days. Finally, Mgee got a little angry at him for not fulfilling his expectations of a "hunt and kill" tarantula and his fate ended up the same as all the other tarantulas we find. We machete murdered him.
On Sabbath morning, we were met with a wave of fire ants washing towards our mission. I have no idea what they were doing coming in a huge swarm like that but I kinda felt like I was in the McGyver Episode where they combat the killer ants... Only our case was a little less extreme - we all survived.
The twin's and my "get-in-shape plan" is a work in progress. Every time we go running through the village, people STILL stare at us. One time this kid decided to make us his goal net and continually kicked his soccer ball at us every time we jogged by. Chickens cluck and flutter up in front of us. And all the kids yell continually: "Mereki! Mereki!" ("American!") and announce our obvious presence to the entire village.
We have a village "ugly duckling" in the form of a chicken. Honestly, we have some of the ugliest, malnourished animals I've ever seen here, but this chicken takes the cake. She has patchy feathers and her red, leathery neck is completely void of feathers and fluff. The rest of her is very mangy looking and all her feathers poof out in all directions. We call her "feather-duster".
Oh, something else... definitely not a highlight, but something worth noting. There is a never-ending plague of bugs here: albino-looking ladybugs, horseflies, knats, fleas, bed bugs, blood-sucking beetles, mosquitoes, grass lice... and many others I'm sure I have yet to discover. In the meantime, I'm pretty much one big itch. I am the essence of the word "itch." I think I'm destined to spend the rest of my time here in Nicaragua covered in a combination of bug-spray and constantly be scratching myself like a dog ridden with fleas.
Other notable things that happened last week... Uh... we cleaned the outhouse. (Believe me, that was a notable experience.); Mgee went bowling with rotten coconuts; and I definitely moved up a level in the school of "killing tarantulas." Two just met their fate by ME stomping on them. Yes, That's right. I was pretty proud of myself too.
We definitely killed another snake a few days back. Unfortunately for us girls, the village children have discovered our acute phobia of poisonous snakes. They realized that using sticks to pick up dead snakes and chase us with them elicits shrieks of terror and mad dashes to the safety of the mission. Of course, like any other slight activity that goes on in the village, everyone came out of their huts to see the commotion. They just roared with laughter as they saw us gringas bolting for the hill being chased by a crowd of half-naked village kids.
So there's a little snippet of our life here in Francia Sirpi. Not always the best, but usually entertaining, at least in retrospect. The mission is changing a lot right now as we are beginning to come up with new ideas and new projects are materializing. It's such a blessing to have such a large and strong group here because we actually can expand our ministries instead of just maintaining them. I'll have to tell you more about it later. I'm kinda getting bored with my own writing and, since you're still reading this, I'll grant you a little mercy and wrap it up.
Just so ya'll know, I keep you in my prayers. I hope you're all safe and doing well. I love you!
One of the reasons we haven't been able to contact ya'll is that we've had incredibly cool weather lately; no solar power. We haven't had a lot of rain, but it's been overcast in the day and slightly chilly at night. We all broke out our sweatshirts for the first time! It's been so nice just to feel like I don't NEED to shower every night and not feel sticky all the time. Unfortunately, along with our cooler temperatures, our shower water temperature has nose-dived to the point where I think I might emerge from the shower with a mild case of hypothermia.
Also, ya'll might have seen pictures of guys' haircuts. Much to all the girls' dismay, the boys have not only decided to grow their beards out for the extent of our mission here, but now they also got into a macho-man mood and on a testosterone whim, they decided to shave their heads. I feel like they look more like hardcore motorcycle dudes or missionary skin-heads instead of missionary boys. . .
On Monday, Jerrica, Kaileen and I were working away in the MINSA clinic when suddenly we heard a crowd start to form outside and a huge wave of people came in the door shouting "Emergencia! Emergencia!" Behind them two guys walked in the door with their hands wrapped in bloody, dirty clothes. I guess they'd been working on their plantation and somehow cut themselves pretty badly with machetes. We worked on the guy who looked the most serious first and gingerly peeled back his dressing. He had stuffed a bunch of grass and leaves in his wound to use as a pressure dressing. Highly unsanitary, but effective. The guy bled pretty bad. While we were stitching him up blood actually started shooting out from the artery. Craziness! We got them all stitched up and it looks like the healing process is going pretty well now.
Oh, in other news, we got a pet tarantula. Yes.... I never thought it would come to this but, yes... We tried to feed him grasshoppers and geckos and cockroaches, but our tarantula didn't seem to be in a killing mood even after 3 days. Finally, Mgee got a little angry at him for not fulfilling his expectations of a "hunt and kill" tarantula and his fate ended up the same as all the other tarantulas we find. We machete murdered him.
On Sabbath morning, we were met with a wave of fire ants washing towards our mission. I have no idea what they were doing coming in a huge swarm like that but I kinda felt like I was in the McGyver Episode where they combat the killer ants... Only our case was a little less extreme - we all survived.
The twin's and my "get-in-shape plan" is a work in progress. Every time we go running through the village, people STILL stare at us. One time this kid decided to make us his goal net and continually kicked his soccer ball at us every time we jogged by. Chickens cluck and flutter up in front of us. And all the kids yell continually: "Mereki! Mereki!" ("American!") and announce our obvious presence to the entire village.
We have a village "ugly duckling" in the form of a chicken. Honestly, we have some of the ugliest, malnourished animals I've ever seen here, but this chicken takes the cake. She has patchy feathers and her red, leathery neck is completely void of feathers and fluff. The rest of her is very mangy looking and all her feathers poof out in all directions. We call her "feather-duster".
Oh, something else... definitely not a highlight, but something worth noting. There is a never-ending plague of bugs here: albino-looking ladybugs, horseflies, knats, fleas, bed bugs, blood-sucking beetles, mosquitoes, grass lice... and many others I'm sure I have yet to discover. In the meantime, I'm pretty much one big itch. I am the essence of the word "itch." I think I'm destined to spend the rest of my time here in Nicaragua covered in a combination of bug-spray and constantly be scratching myself like a dog ridden with fleas.
Other notable things that happened last week... Uh... we cleaned the outhouse. (Believe me, that was a notable experience.); Mgee went bowling with rotten coconuts; and I definitely moved up a level in the school of "killing tarantulas." Two just met their fate by ME stomping on them. Yes, That's right. I was pretty proud of myself too.
We definitely killed another snake a few days back. Unfortunately for us girls, the village children have discovered our acute phobia of poisonous snakes. They realized that using sticks to pick up dead snakes and chase us with them elicits shrieks of terror and mad dashes to the safety of the mission. Of course, like any other slight activity that goes on in the village, everyone came out of their huts to see the commotion. They just roared with laughter as they saw us gringas bolting for the hill being chased by a crowd of half-naked village kids.
So there's a little snippet of our life here in Francia Sirpi. Not always the best, but usually entertaining, at least in retrospect. The mission is changing a lot right now as we are beginning to come up with new ideas and new projects are materializing. It's such a blessing to have such a large and strong group here because we actually can expand our ministries instead of just maintaining them. I'll have to tell you more about it later. I'm kinda getting bored with my own writing and, since you're still reading this, I'll grant you a little mercy and wrap it up.
Just so ya'll know, I keep you in my prayers. I hope you're all safe and doing well. I love you!
Friday, November 4, 2011
Overdue Post!
Hey Everyone,
This is Camrie's Mom, Cynthia. I just returned from a two week vacation and am now just getting around to posting this blog that Camrie sent me October 20 (while I was away with very little internet availability). Sorry it's so long in coming. I already have another blog that I'll add sometime this weekend. Enjoy reading!
One of Our Trips Home from Port - October 20
Usually about once a month we all head into Port to restock our groceries, pick up mail, and connect to the outside world via the internet. It usually takes at least four hours to drive one way and usually our road-trips are very bumpy, and very unorthodox. This is what happened on our last return trip from Port.
After buying all our last minute fresh vegetable purchases in the Port street market, we finally finished loading up the trailer and got ready to leave the Adventist school at 3:30 PM. We busted out of there pretty fast because suddenly a political propaganda parade started filling the streets and crowds of people flowed out from houses and buildings to see the excitement. The school staff started getting really nervous and told us that the same thing happened last week and the people road-blocked the street for three days! All these huge trucks overflowing with people started honking their way down the street. The Sandinistas were yelling, chanting, and waving flags and posters. Their enthusiasm energized the onlookers and the street suddenly felt really chaotic. We all rushed to the ambulance and loaded up - hoping to make it out fast just in case something took place. Thankfully the pandemonium followed the trucks and the street began to settle back into the normal pace. Praise God for safety.
About an hour out of town we noticed something funky about the trailer. It seemed like one tire was stuck in a rut and couldn't quite get out. It turns out we had a flat tire. Immediately we halted our voyage and we all piled out to assess the damage. Jared started to take out the spare and Tom started jacking up the trailer. We hunted around the area to find some makeshift block to set the trailer on. While some of us were working away, the rest of us entertained ourselves: Mgee inspected his many mysterious rashes, we girls chased chickens like they were pigeons, Eda and Mgee squabbled about which one of them was more "gresy," (or "crazy" in English), and Paula (the twins' mom) documented the whole experience with her camera.
The way we gauge how far away from Port we are is by the road conditions. When the road is fairly smooth gravel, we are near port; when we start hitting crater-sized potholes and mud lakes, we are definitely getting close to Francia Sirpi. Well, later on in our journey, the ruts seemed to be extra bad due to the fact that earlier it had rained quite a bit. We started ascending and descending into potholes like they were snow moguls. Unfortunately we misjudged the depth of the water and the extent of the mud in one 15 foot diameter pothole and suddenly we started spinning. Great! Once again, Jared and Mgee stuck on their rain boots and climbed out to assess the damage. Thankfully after a few readjustments and new strategies, we were able to gain some traction and power-out.
When we finally arrived back at the mission it was around 8:30 PM. We were pretty exhausted and we all pitched in to unload the trailer and unpack groceries. In the process we found a dead rat that had drowned in our filtered water drip-bucket, and two tarantulas scurrying across the kitchen floor. They no longer exist thanks to Mgee's machete, and they're now drying out in our tarantula graveyard. RIP tarantulas.
As soon as we thought our night was winding down, some villagers climbed up the hill, begging us to come examine their daughter who was nine months pregant. As soon as we grabbed our medical supplies a tropical downpour started, so we suited up in our rain gear and plodded out to find the woman's hut. We hiked off the road for about 10 minutes and finally found it. We took her vitals, did a short examination, talked/translated with the family, and determined that she would be able to last through the night in time to see the MINSA nurse, and if not, they were to come back and get us. We trekked back to the main road again and finally arrived back at the mission around 10:30 PM. We all decided that as a rule of thumb, we can always plan on our days going exactly how we DID NOT plan. I really don't think this is a good place for Type A personalities - or maybe it IS a good place for them to work on their character. Haha! Who knows? Although even though we have a very simple life here in Francia, it seems like everyday we always have some sort of adventure ~ it's not necessarily fun, but an adventure none the less.
I hope ya'll are doing great back in the USA. Hopefully I'll get to talk to you all soon whenever we have our NEXT road-trip to Port (whenever that will be...) Praying for you! God Bless - Dawan Bles Mayumbia
This is Camrie's Mom, Cynthia. I just returned from a two week vacation and am now just getting around to posting this blog that Camrie sent me October 20 (while I was away with very little internet availability). Sorry it's so long in coming. I already have another blog that I'll add sometime this weekend. Enjoy reading!
One of Our Trips Home from Port - October 20
Usually about once a month we all head into Port to restock our groceries, pick up mail, and connect to the outside world via the internet. It usually takes at least four hours to drive one way and usually our road-trips are very bumpy, and very unorthodox. This is what happened on our last return trip from Port.
After buying all our last minute fresh vegetable purchases in the Port street market, we finally finished loading up the trailer and got ready to leave the Adventist school at 3:30 PM. We busted out of there pretty fast because suddenly a political propaganda parade started filling the streets and crowds of people flowed out from houses and buildings to see the excitement. The school staff started getting really nervous and told us that the same thing happened last week and the people road-blocked the street for three days! All these huge trucks overflowing with people started honking their way down the street. The Sandinistas were yelling, chanting, and waving flags and posters. Their enthusiasm energized the onlookers and the street suddenly felt really chaotic. We all rushed to the ambulance and loaded up - hoping to make it out fast just in case something took place. Thankfully the pandemonium followed the trucks and the street began to settle back into the normal pace. Praise God for safety.
About an hour out of town we noticed something funky about the trailer. It seemed like one tire was stuck in a rut and couldn't quite get out. It turns out we had a flat tire. Immediately we halted our voyage and we all piled out to assess the damage. Jared started to take out the spare and Tom started jacking up the trailer. We hunted around the area to find some makeshift block to set the trailer on. While some of us were working away, the rest of us entertained ourselves: Mgee inspected his many mysterious rashes, we girls chased chickens like they were pigeons, Eda and Mgee squabbled about which one of them was more "gresy," (or "crazy" in English), and Paula (the twins' mom) documented the whole experience with her camera.
The way we gauge how far away from Port we are is by the road conditions. When the road is fairly smooth gravel, we are near port; when we start hitting crater-sized potholes and mud lakes, we are definitely getting close to Francia Sirpi. Well, later on in our journey, the ruts seemed to be extra bad due to the fact that earlier it had rained quite a bit. We started ascending and descending into potholes like they were snow moguls. Unfortunately we misjudged the depth of the water and the extent of the mud in one 15 foot diameter pothole and suddenly we started spinning. Great! Once again, Jared and Mgee stuck on their rain boots and climbed out to assess the damage. Thankfully after a few readjustments and new strategies, we were able to gain some traction and power-out.
When we finally arrived back at the mission it was around 8:30 PM. We were pretty exhausted and we all pitched in to unload the trailer and unpack groceries. In the process we found a dead rat that had drowned in our filtered water drip-bucket, and two tarantulas scurrying across the kitchen floor. They no longer exist thanks to Mgee's machete, and they're now drying out in our tarantula graveyard. RIP tarantulas.
As soon as we thought our night was winding down, some villagers climbed up the hill, begging us to come examine their daughter who was nine months pregant. As soon as we grabbed our medical supplies a tropical downpour started, so we suited up in our rain gear and plodded out to find the woman's hut. We hiked off the road for about 10 minutes and finally found it. We took her vitals, did a short examination, talked/translated with the family, and determined that she would be able to last through the night in time to see the MINSA nurse, and if not, they were to come back and get us. We trekked back to the main road again and finally arrived back at the mission around 10:30 PM. We all decided that as a rule of thumb, we can always plan on our days going exactly how we DID NOT plan. I really don't think this is a good place for Type A personalities - or maybe it IS a good place for them to work on their character. Haha! Who knows? Although even though we have a very simple life here in Francia, it seems like everyday we always have some sort of adventure ~ it's not necessarily fun, but an adventure none the less.
I hope ya'll are doing great back in the USA. Hopefully I'll get to talk to you all soon whenever we have our NEXT road-trip to Port (whenever that will be...) Praying for you! God Bless - Dawan Bles Mayumbia
Monday, October 10, 2011
Random Stories from this Week
Hey guys - Since I'm in Port, I thought I'd type up a few stories to share with you guys (since our internet is down at the moment.)
Something funny that’s happened to us in church is that the first few times we sang for special music, we decided to sing classic songs like “Amazing Grace,” “Draw me close to you” or some other kind of beautiful/melodic song. What we realized though after a few weeks is that although the poor church people could enjoy the melody, they don’t understand the words. Obviously.
Even though the Moskito church pretty much only sings from the hymnal, they all looked kinda bored when we got up there. So the next time we sang, we shell-shocked the congregation with “I like Bananas.” Complete with handclapping, finger snapping, and the break-down version.
Well THAT special music was the experience of the century I bet. Everyone at first stared back at our unconventional church song. The kids started giggling and the parents discreetly tried to cover their smiles. Soon it was a lost cause however, everyone just burst out laughing when we all yelled out: “Papayas?!?!” What I didn’t think about before we starting singing “I like Bananas” is that all the fruits they mention in the song are exactly the same words in Spanish. Bananas, Papayas, Mangos… No wonder all these people were cracking up – all us crazy Americans are up front, and the only thing that makes sense to them is that we’re singing a song about fruit.
Lately the songs we’ve sung have been ones like “We are Soldiers” and “Jesus Loves Me” (the clapping version), and everyone just seems blown away that we have such “crazy songs” that we pull out of nowhere. Thank you, 4 rounds of summer camp. haha
Needless to say, I think our special music “performances” are a much anticipated event now here in Francia Sirpi, even if no one has any idea what we’re singing.
This past week, Georgina (the MINSA clinic nurse), went to Waspam for 3 days. So instead of working in the MINSA clinic, Jericca, Kaileen and I decided to put in some time at the Adventist Clinic. Ever since we first got here, we’ve slowly been chipping away at cleaning the clinic and doing inventory – A verrry sloooooww process. Thankfully, we were really productive and we were able to finish inventory, sort through expired medications, clear out trash, and begin to bleach all the walls to get rid of bat guano stuck on the walls. :S
On Thursday morning we were workin away – being very speedy until we discovered a little visitor. That would be a MONSTEROUS spider. We don’t have any machetes in the clinic, and obviously a monstrously huge spider and I cannot coexist, so we hunted around for something to kill it with. We quickly came up with the idea to fashion a long-handled spear by attaching a surgery scalpel to a broomstick with medical tape. Our plan worked really well – we again relocated the spider who was menacingly perched on the edge of the trash can, and I speared the spider right through the gut on my first jab!
I realize that some of you might think that I’m a heartless person to take a spider out like that, but I could just tell he wasn’t a good spider to have around. Anyways, I was pretty proud of myself and I turned around and held my speared spider up like a trophy for Jericca and Kaileen to see, his legs still moving slightly; it was all really awesome until he suddenly fell off the scalpel almost on my head. I screamed and ran to the other side of the pharmacy, checking to see if the spider had fallen on me.
I was okay, just some spider guts had fallen on my hand – ugh! So gross!
Guys, I promise I didn’t just suddenly turn into a “girly-girl” when I got here to Nicaragua, but spiders that are as big as my hand are completely different from any spiders I’ve seen back home. I want to kill ALL of them.
Well I'm running out of time - we gotta make a run to the post office to pickup/send mail! I'll talk to you guys next time we come to Port - Hopefully sometime in November!
Friday, October 7, 2011
This Is Just How It Is
Good morning!
Greetings from the middle of nowhere (that would be Francia Sirpi)! Life is going pretty well, I'd say. Everything that bothered me, or was so different when I first got here, seems to be fading or becoming normal; so, I guess this is a good thing that my perspective is changing. :P
I realized that I'm getting used to living in Nicaragua when I opened the oatmeal bag in the morning and didn't even worry about trying to get rid of the ants before I dumped the oatmeal (and ants) in the boiling water. They probably give us some sort of vitamin we need here anyway.
If there's anything we haven't gotten careless about, it's food cleanliness. Pretty much EVERYTHING gets dipped in chlorine water including plates, utensils, cookware, fruits, and vegetables. Chelsea has even tried to chlorine rinse our beans and rice much to Jared's horror. He ran away from her with the bowl of cleaned rice yelling at her to quit her obsession, and she chased him with a bowl of chlorine water, insisting that "It needs to be sanitized." Like she says, "We're NOT getting sick this year." Good. I'm down with that. Amen to chlorine. Good job, Chelsea.
All of us have been VERY busy over the past several weeks now that we have all begun our "jobs". Now, in addition to figuring out this strange culture, we are also attempting to develop our under-qualified skills to fill our obviously necessary positions.
One morning last week, we climbed through the barbed wire fence and rounded the clinic to meet a large Miskito family that had walked a few days to get here and camped out on the front porch of the clinic waiting for us to show up. Behind the large group of people, I noticed someone lying motionless on the bench. The body was wrapped from head to toe in blankets - only his face poked out. I have never seen anyone look so pathetically sick before in my life. For a short second I actually thought he was a corpse. His eyes and skin were sunken in and his eyes were unfocused and glazed over. Georgina called us into another room and gravely told us that he had AIDS - "So be very careful," she told us. "Wear gloves, use alcohol." The poor guy was only in his early twenties, but he hadn't eaten in two weeks, we were told, and he was too weak to even move a finger. His family seemed to be desperately looking to us for any signs of hope, but there weren't any. Georgina told us we needed to transfer to Waspam - or else the young man wouldn't live through the night. One half hour later, we carried the emaciated man down to the ambulance and loaded him in. Georgina climbed in as well to accompany him to Waspam and promptly instructed us to run the clinic while she was gone.
This was only our third day working in the clinic and honestly we were scared out of our minds! We needed to listen to symptoms, diagnose the person, and perscribe medicine! Isn't that super-illegal for two medical novices to do if they were in America?? I mean, Jerrica is a registered nurse, but even she admits that RN training does NOT prepare you for jungle nursing. We decided to pray right on the spot for guidance to make the right diagnoses. Luckily most of our patients spoke some Spanish and for the ones who didn't I would go find someone who DID speak Spanish and Miskito and drag them in to translate for me. Luckily, they were all pretty agreeable. After each patient we continued to pray together and God really came through. The rest of the day flew by and we had our smoothest day yet! Praise God!
I've figured out pretty quickly that I can still freak out around these poeple, but as long as I keep my voice in a monotone, they have no clue. All this clinical stuff is pretty new to me. Even though I'm paranoid to RECEIVE shots, I still don't really enjoy stabbing other people with needles. I feel bad when they cringe, or when their skin is so leathery we have to literally shove the needle with both hands to sink it in. Pretty much I'm always freaking out to Jericca, about how we have like 20 people standing in the windows and doors watching us and giggling, or if the needle gets clogged when I'm giving an injection, or if I accidentally touch blood and think I'm going to get AIDS (.....Hey, I think that's a legitimate fear here....). Thankfully she puts up with all my medical ignorance/self-consciousness, and believes that one day I'll be able to be "fearless with the needle". Haha
Also I had another crazy experience a little later in the week. One day after work, Georgina sent a messenger up the hill to have us come and help her deliver a baby! I still can't believe it! Honestly, I don't think I was much of a help. Georgina would tell me stuff to do but I'm pretty clueless about everything that has to do with childbirth. My cluelessness also might have been a result of my complete state of awe. I had a million different thoughts running through my head all at the same time - mostly consisting of "There is no way THAT is going to fit through THAT" and "I can't believe this is happening!" and "This must really suck!" and "This must be the worst experience ever." Oh my word! It looked so painful! Jerrica kept on telling me to stop cringing. When the baby finally popped out, suddenly we were all caught up in a flurry of activities - grabbing gauze, wrapping the baby in sheets, getting the unbilical clamp, cleaning the baby's face and checking it's respirations. Georgina snapped on the clamp and ordered ME to cut the cord. I understood what she said, but I asked again - just because I think it's such a crazy thing to do - I always thought that's what the daddy does! WEll, I cut through it and amid the chaos going on, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the whole experience. It was the most horrific and the most beautiful thing I think I've ever seen. It was amazing to see this precious infant take her first breath. This child has so much to learn and so much to suffer, and even in this secluded part of the world, God still has his own purpose in bringing her into the world. So cool.
We've had many other adventures so far such as cutting grass with machetes, meeting our first poisonous snake, having my daily devotions in my hammock, being a prayer meeting translator, getting chewed on daily by millions of little Nicaraguan beeltes, taking showers in a rain storm, stomping on tarantulas, making bread, and using an entire tube of anti-itch cream within one week. Goodtimes? I don't even know. This is just how it is.
Greetings from the middle of nowhere (that would be Francia Sirpi)! Life is going pretty well, I'd say. Everything that bothered me, or was so different when I first got here, seems to be fading or becoming normal; so, I guess this is a good thing that my perspective is changing. :P
I realized that I'm getting used to living in Nicaragua when I opened the oatmeal bag in the morning and didn't even worry about trying to get rid of the ants before I dumped the oatmeal (and ants) in the boiling water. They probably give us some sort of vitamin we need here anyway.
If there's anything we haven't gotten careless about, it's food cleanliness. Pretty much EVERYTHING gets dipped in chlorine water including plates, utensils, cookware, fruits, and vegetables. Chelsea has even tried to chlorine rinse our beans and rice much to Jared's horror. He ran away from her with the bowl of cleaned rice yelling at her to quit her obsession, and she chased him with a bowl of chlorine water, insisting that "It needs to be sanitized." Like she says, "We're NOT getting sick this year." Good. I'm down with that. Amen to chlorine. Good job, Chelsea.
All of us have been VERY busy over the past several weeks now that we have all begun our "jobs". Now, in addition to figuring out this strange culture, we are also attempting to develop our under-qualified skills to fill our obviously necessary positions.
One morning last week, we climbed through the barbed wire fence and rounded the clinic to meet a large Miskito family that had walked a few days to get here and camped out on the front porch of the clinic waiting for us to show up. Behind the large group of people, I noticed someone lying motionless on the bench. The body was wrapped from head to toe in blankets - only his face poked out. I have never seen anyone look so pathetically sick before in my life. For a short second I actually thought he was a corpse. His eyes and skin were sunken in and his eyes were unfocused and glazed over. Georgina called us into another room and gravely told us that he had AIDS - "So be very careful," she told us. "Wear gloves, use alcohol." The poor guy was only in his early twenties, but he hadn't eaten in two weeks, we were told, and he was too weak to even move a finger. His family seemed to be desperately looking to us for any signs of hope, but there weren't any. Georgina told us we needed to transfer to Waspam - or else the young man wouldn't live through the night. One half hour later, we carried the emaciated man down to the ambulance and loaded him in. Georgina climbed in as well to accompany him to Waspam and promptly instructed us to run the clinic while she was gone.
This was only our third day working in the clinic and honestly we were scared out of our minds! We needed to listen to symptoms, diagnose the person, and perscribe medicine! Isn't that super-illegal for two medical novices to do if they were in America?? I mean, Jerrica is a registered nurse, but even she admits that RN training does NOT prepare you for jungle nursing. We decided to pray right on the spot for guidance to make the right diagnoses. Luckily most of our patients spoke some Spanish and for the ones who didn't I would go find someone who DID speak Spanish and Miskito and drag them in to translate for me. Luckily, they were all pretty agreeable. After each patient we continued to pray together and God really came through. The rest of the day flew by and we had our smoothest day yet! Praise God!
I've figured out pretty quickly that I can still freak out around these poeple, but as long as I keep my voice in a monotone, they have no clue. All this clinical stuff is pretty new to me. Even though I'm paranoid to RECEIVE shots, I still don't really enjoy stabbing other people with needles. I feel bad when they cringe, or when their skin is so leathery we have to literally shove the needle with both hands to sink it in. Pretty much I'm always freaking out to Jericca, about how we have like 20 people standing in the windows and doors watching us and giggling, or if the needle gets clogged when I'm giving an injection, or if I accidentally touch blood and think I'm going to get AIDS (.....Hey, I think that's a legitimate fear here....). Thankfully she puts up with all my medical ignorance/self-consciousness, and believes that one day I'll be able to be "fearless with the needle". Haha
Also I had another crazy experience a little later in the week. One day after work, Georgina sent a messenger up the hill to have us come and help her deliver a baby! I still can't believe it! Honestly, I don't think I was much of a help. Georgina would tell me stuff to do but I'm pretty clueless about everything that has to do with childbirth. My cluelessness also might have been a result of my complete state of awe. I had a million different thoughts running through my head all at the same time - mostly consisting of "There is no way THAT is going to fit through THAT" and "I can't believe this is happening!" and "This must really suck!" and "This must be the worst experience ever." Oh my word! It looked so painful! Jerrica kept on telling me to stop cringing. When the baby finally popped out, suddenly we were all caught up in a flurry of activities - grabbing gauze, wrapping the baby in sheets, getting the unbilical clamp, cleaning the baby's face and checking it's respirations. Georgina snapped on the clamp and ordered ME to cut the cord. I understood what she said, but I asked again - just because I think it's such a crazy thing to do - I always thought that's what the daddy does! WEll, I cut through it and amid the chaos going on, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the whole experience. It was the most horrific and the most beautiful thing I think I've ever seen. It was amazing to see this precious infant take her first breath. This child has so much to learn and so much to suffer, and even in this secluded part of the world, God still has his own purpose in bringing her into the world. So cool.
We've had many other adventures so far such as cutting grass with machetes, meeting our first poisonous snake, having my daily devotions in my hammock, being a prayer meeting translator, getting chewed on daily by millions of little Nicaraguan beeltes, taking showers in a rain storm, stomping on tarantulas, making bread, and using an entire tube of anti-itch cream within one week. Goodtimes? I don't even know. This is just how it is.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
So Much to Learn!
Okay, so I know that after my last post, you're all probably going to be thinking that I'm the most bi-polar person ever...but this is what's going on right now here in Francia Sirpi: I have officially reached the end of that "honeymoon" period that they always told us about in SM class. Nothing dramatic has happened, but I've just been thinking a lot and it's really starting to sink in that I'll be here for 9 months. Up until now, I've been dealing with the change in cultures pretty well because I think that I've been able to pull a lot from my experience from going to school in Spain for a year. That has helped a lot. But Spain is just another civilization, not a third-world country. I'm always excited for new experiences and challenges, but I think now the novelty has worn off and reality has sunk in. This isn't just a fun-fun trip. This is my life now. I'm living in a jungle, thousands of miles from home, in a completely foreign culture with solar panel lights, limited technology, and no internet. NOTHING reminds me of home.
I guess I am realizing just how much I DON'T understand this culture. Apart from the Miskito language, which sounds nothing like any language I've ever heard, the people that I've come to serve cause me the most trouble. I guess one of the things that bothers me the most is the promiscuity here. Pretty much any girl over the age of 12 is a prime-time prize for any male in the village. The guys are very lewd and it is impossible to go anywhere without being whistled at or stared down shamelessly.
Just the other day, during the festivities for Nicaraguan Independence Day, they celebrated by having numerous culture dances. Let me just say that after watching those dances, there remains little question as to why girls at age 13, 14, 15 etc. are pregnant here. These school kids were all up into each other while they danced in the middle of the crowd. The looks in these guys' eyes scared me. They'd grin knowingly at each other as they got up on a girl. - So disgusting!. What's worse is that families, the parents and small children, just look on, seemingly unaffected. I felt horrified and uncomfortable just watching all of this.
Any way a girl might address a guy is taken as a com-on. Guys shout and motion at girls as if they were nothing more than sex objects. I know that as an SM, we are suppose to accustom ourselves to the culture, but to me, at least initially as an American foreigner, it really comes across as highly socially offensive. Ugh.
Also, we cannot trust ANY of the locals. They are all very crafty and work out ways to squeeze every possible penny out of your hands. They lie, they steal - even if they are our friends or members of the church. I'm normally a very trusting person but it's tough always having to be on your guard, not knowing if these people are lying to your face or not.
Even though these things are irritating me, at the same time I really feel for these people.
The people have nothing. They are so poor and they suffer so much. My entire life I've always felt like we've never been comfortably well-off. Nothing has ever been easy. But here, I feel FILTHY rich. Literally Filthy. A few days ago we went to visit some of the village people in the huts. We climbed up the lean-to ladders that accessed the huts and carefully maneuvered over the floorboards, trying to step on the studs because we felt like the damp floorboards might break. The huts smell like smoke because of the small coal fire they burn in the corner. Dirty, faded sheets hang in the windows as curtains. There's usually a shelf or two that holds everything the family owns; a few random rusted dishes, a few machetes, some other stuff and maybe a couple of books if there is a family member that is literate. There are no mosquito nets and not enough beds. I'm not sure where the children sleep......and most of the people smell like sweat and grime. The older people are missing teeth and have dark leathery skin. Even though they might look like they are 80 years old and on their death bed, it's probably more accurate to assume that they're only about 50 years old. It's a hard life.
I feel so bad for these people and their living conditions. These people have lived their whole lives with what I would consider "less than the necessities". I feel like such an absolutely selfish person for having a life that most American's would term "average". No wonder we get pegged with the reputation of being materialistic.
Overall, I'm just overwhelmed by how much I have to learn and do here. I feel so unprepared for everything. But then again, how could I possibly prepare myself for this? I have so much to learn.
I guess I am realizing just how much I DON'T understand this culture. Apart from the Miskito language, which sounds nothing like any language I've ever heard, the people that I've come to serve cause me the most trouble. I guess one of the things that bothers me the most is the promiscuity here. Pretty much any girl over the age of 12 is a prime-time prize for any male in the village. The guys are very lewd and it is impossible to go anywhere without being whistled at or stared down shamelessly.
Just the other day, during the festivities for Nicaraguan Independence Day, they celebrated by having numerous culture dances. Let me just say that after watching those dances, there remains little question as to why girls at age 13, 14, 15 etc. are pregnant here. These school kids were all up into each other while they danced in the middle of the crowd. The looks in these guys' eyes scared me. They'd grin knowingly at each other as they got up on a girl. - So disgusting!. What's worse is that families, the parents and small children, just look on, seemingly unaffected. I felt horrified and uncomfortable just watching all of this.
Any way a girl might address a guy is taken as a com-on. Guys shout and motion at girls as if they were nothing more than sex objects. I know that as an SM, we are suppose to accustom ourselves to the culture, but to me, at least initially as an American foreigner, it really comes across as highly socially offensive. Ugh.
Also, we cannot trust ANY of the locals. They are all very crafty and work out ways to squeeze every possible penny out of your hands. They lie, they steal - even if they are our friends or members of the church. I'm normally a very trusting person but it's tough always having to be on your guard, not knowing if these people are lying to your face or not.
Even though these things are irritating me, at the same time I really feel for these people.
The people have nothing. They are so poor and they suffer so much. My entire life I've always felt like we've never been comfortably well-off. Nothing has ever been easy. But here, I feel FILTHY rich. Literally Filthy. A few days ago we went to visit some of the village people in the huts. We climbed up the lean-to ladders that accessed the huts and carefully maneuvered over the floorboards, trying to step on the studs because we felt like the damp floorboards might break. The huts smell like smoke because of the small coal fire they burn in the corner. Dirty, faded sheets hang in the windows as curtains. There's usually a shelf or two that holds everything the family owns; a few random rusted dishes, a few machetes, some other stuff and maybe a couple of books if there is a family member that is literate. There are no mosquito nets and not enough beds. I'm not sure where the children sleep......and most of the people smell like sweat and grime. The older people are missing teeth and have dark leathery skin. Even though they might look like they are 80 years old and on their death bed, it's probably more accurate to assume that they're only about 50 years old. It's a hard life.
I feel so bad for these people and their living conditions. These people have lived their whole lives with what I would consider "less than the necessities". I feel like such an absolutely selfish person for having a life that most American's would term "average". No wonder we get pegged with the reputation of being materialistic.
Overall, I'm just overwhelmed by how much I have to learn and do here. I feel so unprepared for everything. But then again, how could I possibly prepare myself for this? I have so much to learn.
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