Imagine that your friends and co-workers and half your neighborhood all decided to pack up and move one day; teams mopping their way through offices the day before, a whole caravan of buses and land-rovers and one huge truck driving down the major highways...
Yep, we've finally moved "home" again! Crew already on board were waiting to greet us; our ship home decked out in balloons and world flags and a large sign that excitedly welcomed us back.
And it truly is good to be back. Our directors warn us that it might not be quite "homey" yet, that the internet and electricity and water and AC may go in and out, we'll have scheduled blackouts and frequent emergency drills to prepare for the sail. My cabin is partly underwater (so no windows) and pitch black with the door closed - excellent for night shift in the future, and for now lit camping-style with a mag light.
But it's a wildly fun adventure. And if blackouts and drills bring us closer to the sail then I say...bring them on!
Monday, January 31, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
I heard my baby breathe
It all revolves around generators. Generators and pipes. Something I know very little about. So I find myself praying in vague terms, doing what I can to prepare for the sail, thankful that the engineers and plumbers and electricians and deck crew know what they are doing.
They are testing the first generator, with a relatively positive report before they shut it back off for more tests. “I heard one of my babies take a breath today,” one of the mechanics said happily when I asked him yesterday how it went. And breathing babies are definitely an answer to prayer. We need them breathing so that we can sail. Our patients are ready for us to come in Sierra Leone, and the hospital staff are raring and ready to go.
Please pray for Dennis’s babies to breathe, and breathe well.
They are testing the first generator, with a relatively positive report before they shut it back off for more tests. “I heard one of my babies take a breath today,” one of the mechanics said happily when I asked him yesterday how it went. And breathing babies are definitely an answer to prayer. We need them breathing so that we can sail. Our patients are ready for us to come in Sierra Leone, and the hospital staff are raring and ready to go.
Please pray for Dennis’s babies to breathe, and breathe well.
499 feet
Termite wings beat frantically against my window, a constant flutter in the background of my head. I’m the insect hunter in my room…two mosquitoes, a large spider and one termite later I headed out to the shower...only to find that another active termite was sharing the shower with me today. I’m thankful for my childhood in Indonesia that introduced me to bugs and sweat as a part of everyday life, for shower flip-flops, for the sweet sleep that comes even knowing exactly what live animals have joined me in the room.
This is the luxury in my days: the hot 2-minute shower and maybe a cup of hot chocolate with a friend; a breath of relaxation. We’ve been diligently and thoroughly cleaning, every area of the ship that we can reach. 499 feet long and 8 decks high seems small after a week at sea but right now each foot stretches out longer as we scrub. It’s tiring but incredibly satisfying to watch our ship go from muddy and dusty to bright and shining again. Yesterday we cleaned even the parts of the ship we couldn’t reach. Siah and I suited up in safety harnesses and went up on scaffolding to wipe down the ceilings midships in the lounge. In the bits we couldn’t reach with tables, that is. We definitely had a blast, so much so that Ruth was inspired to join us without a harness. I’m telling you, Mercy Ships must have the most versatile medical personnel ever.
We’re still living at Appelsbosch, with clouds and cool rain and an Internet café that was damaged in the last thunderstorm (the reason for the late blog posts ;-), with a rollercoaster commute of mountains and ocean and startled pedestrians in the fog. Waiting, praying that the generator tests will go well so we can all move back on board and prepare to sail.Wednesday, January 19, 2011
the sweat team
Several of the hospital staff named ourselves the sweat team today. It's generally descriptive of our current job onboard ship, and also our personal appearances most of the waking day.
At 0800 every morning we hop on the "shuttle" - a 13-15 passenger van - for a 2 hour trip that feels more like a rollercoaster ride. The hills of Kwa-Zulu Natal are beautiful, all sharp angles and odd ridges and flatness, topped with a generous dusting of long grass and scattered round huts, rows of palms, odd-shaped evergreen, and what look like grown-up bonsai trees wiggling around in contours to a little tuft of leaves at the top. Every night we ride home covered in grime and chemicals, sweat cooling into a sticky film in the breeze.
Our sweet ship is riding high in port, aft gangway in place and surrounded by pipes and landrovers on the dock. Our job is simply to clean. To clean and dust and scrub and dance with praise music blasting, and sort through mildewed supplies and equipment to clean anything even remotely salvageable, and then clean it again when we set up the hospital in Sierra Leone. Because our ship has been at rest for the last few months...and now it's time to turn it back into a hospital, and a village. And let me tell you, there's no one that cleans like nurses! We're stripping and waxing the hospital floors again too, something we did last year when we arrived in Togo. But this year we need to get everything possible done before we sail...because we'll be hitting the ground running.
I haven't taken many pictures, because I would rather not get my camera covered in dirt and sweat and wax and floor stripper. But I'm sure there will be plenty of photo ops to come!
At 0800 every morning we hop on the "shuttle" - a 13-15 passenger van - for a 2 hour trip that feels more like a rollercoaster ride. The hills of Kwa-Zulu Natal are beautiful, all sharp angles and odd ridges and flatness, topped with a generous dusting of long grass and scattered round huts, rows of palms, odd-shaped evergreen, and what look like grown-up bonsai trees wiggling around in contours to a little tuft of leaves at the top. Every night we ride home covered in grime and chemicals, sweat cooling into a sticky film in the breeze.
Our sweet ship is riding high in port, aft gangway in place and surrounded by pipes and landrovers on the dock. Our job is simply to clean. To clean and dust and scrub and dance with praise music blasting, and sort through mildewed supplies and equipment to clean anything even remotely salvageable, and then clean it again when we set up the hospital in Sierra Leone. Because our ship has been at rest for the last few months...and now it's time to turn it back into a hospital, and a village. And let me tell you, there's no one that cleans like nurses! We're stripping and waxing the hospital floors again too, something we did last year when we arrived in Togo. But this year we need to get everything possible done before we sail...because we'll be hitting the ground running.
I haven't taken many pictures, because I would rather not get my camera covered in dirt and sweat and wax and floor stripper. But I'm sure there will be plenty of photo ops to come!
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Going...going...gone!
Hello friends!! The journey has started and I am at my first stop – Appelsbosch, South Africa! I’ve been pretty much without internet since Rochester, so let me catch you up on the last few days…
Jan 12 – 2200
I'm packed and ready to fly.
It’s the strange things that define my luggage. I imagine some unsuspecting TSA officer opening one of my checked bags to discover…whaaat??
Because seriously…who packs like this? Between the conservative dress skirts and rugged cargo pants the well-stocked first aid kit and SAM splints…shampoo and mosquito spray and a hammock with…enough doxycycline to make an elephant nauseous, a random bit of Tupperware, a single fitted sheet, an otoscope, a set of magnetic poetry. But no shorts.
There is a pattern to the inane, I promise.
I’m just trying to figure out how to explain to South African Immigration why I don’t have an actual departure flight…and that I’m not sure when exactly I’ll be leaving their country.
In the meantime, it’s time to wrestle a large box spring and mattress upstairs so that we can go to bed, and get up in a few hours. I'm hoping the snow stops enough that the flights out will still fly.
Jan 13, 2011 – 1230
I feel like a little girl at a sleepover, wandering around in sweatpants and fleece with a pillow under one arm. I’m stretched out now across a row of airline terminal seats, backpack slung beneath my feet, watching the people go by as I type and mourn the lack of free Wi-Fi in Dulles International Airport. A glimpse of scrub pants and a stethoscope earpiece peeking out from the open backpack brings me back to reality: I’m a pediatric nurse again, flying to Africa…now!
The rough spray of the de-icer ran across and down our small windows this morning, just before we took off into the soothing grey of early dawn. All of Buffalo was covered in snow, airport runways included. But wait…Buffalo is always covered in snow. No problems there, still good to go!
It’s been a blessed two weeks since leaving my travel assignment in Massachusetts, weeks full with packing and driving and packing and driving, brothers and sisters and close friends, dancing and celebration, and quiet evenings to relax with a cup of homemade chai with the snow falling thickly outside. I’m homeless right now, it’s true…but being homeless really isn’t so bad when you actually have about 10 homes filled with love. I can’t imagine anything more amazing I could have done with those two weeks.
South Africa still seems surreal – something that I’ve imagined in a dream. It’s hard to wrap my mind around the fact that I will be there in 24 hours. It’s exciting, but not really scary. In a way I could never have imagined this feels like, just maybe, I’m at the start of a long journey home.
January 14 – 2200
I met up with not the one Mercy Ships friend I expected, but 4! We made the flight together from Dulles and caught up on lost time. There is safety in numbers, and it’s always nice to be able to go to the bathroom without your whole world parked next to you in the stall.
We were waved through security with no problems. The official didn’t even look at my visa waiver letter; just smiled and said, “I trust you.” Surprisingly, our luggage made it too. It’s fun listening to all the different accents of English here – thick British, Dutch and Indian accents intermixed with the African.
We’re spending the night in a hotel, all five of us, because it’s too late now to make the drive out to Applesbosch. I’m the one with bedding, so I’ll be sleeping on the floor. And honestly, I doubt I’ll have problems sleeping as long as it’s a horizontal spot :-)
January 16 - 1400
It’s gorgeous here, and sunny and breezy, with frequent drizzly rain showers. I had quiet time in my hammock today…I’ve missed my hammock the last few months.
We’re living in Appelsbosch, at an abandoned college campus with rolling green hills stretched out to either side. It’s about 1-2 hrs drive outside of the port of Durban, so we’ll be driving in for now to work on the ship, until our generators are up and running. Here at least we have electricity, limited water, even limited internet. I share a room just slightly smaller than a college dorm room with another woman; we have shared bathrooms and showers with the rest of the floor. In comparison to ship quarters this is luxuriously spacious; we're enjoying it while we have the chance.
I’ve got one more day to recoop, settle in, figure out my paperwork, and then we’re jumping into work with a vengeance – cleaning and waxing the hospital floors initially, and then God only knows what. Probably everything. I’m excited to get started, and ready to work!!
Jan 12 – 2200
I'm packed and ready to fly.
It’s the strange things that define my luggage. I imagine some unsuspecting TSA officer opening one of my checked bags to discover…whaaat??
Because seriously…who packs like this? Between the conservative dress skirts and rugged cargo pants the well-stocked first aid kit and SAM splints…shampoo and mosquito spray and a hammock with…enough doxycycline to make an elephant nauseous, a random bit of Tupperware, a single fitted sheet, an otoscope, a set of magnetic poetry. But no shorts.
There is a pattern to the inane, I promise.
I’m just trying to figure out how to explain to South African Immigration why I don’t have an actual departure flight…and that I’m not sure when exactly I’ll be leaving their country.
In the meantime, it’s time to wrestle a large box spring and mattress upstairs so that we can go to bed, and get up in a few hours. I'm hoping the snow stops enough that the flights out will still fly.
Jan 13, 2011 – 1230
I feel like a little girl at a sleepover, wandering around in sweatpants and fleece with a pillow under one arm. I’m stretched out now across a row of airline terminal seats, backpack slung beneath my feet, watching the people go by as I type and mourn the lack of free Wi-Fi in Dulles International Airport. A glimpse of scrub pants and a stethoscope earpiece peeking out from the open backpack brings me back to reality: I’m a pediatric nurse again, flying to Africa…now!
The rough spray of the de-icer ran across and down our small windows this morning, just before we took off into the soothing grey of early dawn. All of Buffalo was covered in snow, airport runways included. But wait…Buffalo is always covered in snow. No problems there, still good to go!
It’s been a blessed two weeks since leaving my travel assignment in Massachusetts, weeks full with packing and driving and packing and driving, brothers and sisters and close friends, dancing and celebration, and quiet evenings to relax with a cup of homemade chai with the snow falling thickly outside. I’m homeless right now, it’s true…but being homeless really isn’t so bad when you actually have about 10 homes filled with love. I can’t imagine anything more amazing I could have done with those two weeks.
South Africa still seems surreal – something that I’ve imagined in a dream. It’s hard to wrap my mind around the fact that I will be there in 24 hours. It’s exciting, but not really scary. In a way I could never have imagined this feels like, just maybe, I’m at the start of a long journey home.
January 14 – 2200
I met up with not the one Mercy Ships friend I expected, but 4! We made the flight together from Dulles and caught up on lost time. There is safety in numbers, and it’s always nice to be able to go to the bathroom without your whole world parked next to you in the stall.
We were waved through security with no problems. The official didn’t even look at my visa waiver letter; just smiled and said, “I trust you.” Surprisingly, our luggage made it too. It’s fun listening to all the different accents of English here – thick British, Dutch and Indian accents intermixed with the African.
We’re spending the night in a hotel, all five of us, because it’s too late now to make the drive out to Applesbosch. I’m the one with bedding, so I’ll be sleeping on the floor. And honestly, I doubt I’ll have problems sleeping as long as it’s a horizontal spot :-)
January 16 - 1400
It’s gorgeous here, and sunny and breezy, with frequent drizzly rain showers. I had quiet time in my hammock today…I’ve missed my hammock the last few months.
We’re living in Appelsbosch, at an abandoned college campus with rolling green hills stretched out to either side. It’s about 1-2 hrs drive outside of the port of Durban, so we’ll be driving in for now to work on the ship, until our generators are up and running. Here at least we have electricity, limited water, even limited internet. I share a room just slightly smaller than a college dorm room with another woman; we have shared bathrooms and showers with the rest of the floor. In comparison to ship quarters this is luxuriously spacious; we're enjoying it while we have the chance.
I’ve got one more day to recoop, settle in, figure out my paperwork, and then we’re jumping into work with a vengeance – cleaning and waxing the hospital floors initially, and then God only knows what. Probably everything. I’m excited to get started, and ready to work!!
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