10 Years

Last week we had an anniversary of sorts: It’s been 10 years since we packed up and left the US. This photo was taken in 2008 while in language school in France.

Yes, we look younger here. We were also more naïve. We were going to Africa to live and work and make things better by teaching future surgeons and nurses. We were going to make a difference!

What we couldn’t see was what a difference it would make in us. It has been hard, very hard, but also much more satisfying than we could have imagined. We have no regrets about coming.

Back in 2007 during our orientation, we heard this quote (it could be a bit off, but it went something like this):

“A couple went on a two week missions trip, visiting a foreign country for the first time. Excited about all they had seen and learned, they came home and wrote a book about their experience.

Another couple went on a mission for two years. They came home and wrote an article for a magazine about their experience and how it had shaped them.

A third couple left home and went to live and work in another country.  After 20 years, they were asked if they didn’t want to write about their experience. Their response was that they were just beginning to understand the culture they were living in and really didn’t feel they were equipped to write about it.”

We’re in the middle of the last scenario now. The cultures we’re living in have affected us on a deep personal level. It’s not often easy to write about that. We’re not the same couple who came to Cameroon in 2008. This is our present;  it feels like where we’re at home, even though we are and will always be “other”, “white”, and “foreign” here.

As we’ve grown to know and love people here, we’ve been changed. Things like corruption, lack of access to health care, poverty, and lack of access to education are no longer things we just observe and comment on, they’re things that affect us and those we’ve come to care about every day. The consequences? Disease, many children dying young, people coming very late with illnesses that might have been healed if treated early, illiteracy, unemployment, malnutrition and hunger, hard labor, discouragement. Yes, we have those things in the US, also, but it is not on the same scale.

You can imagine that the realities of the last paragraph took some adjustment for this starry-eyed couple. In the US, we often think we know the solutions for the problems we’re faced with. It wasn’t long before we realized how powerless we were to affect real change, especially if we were acting alone.

The good things? Our eyes have been opened to so much that we didn’t see before. Yes, they are often painful things that are hard and there are no simple solutions or easy answers. There are people within the culture who are working to change things and  we’ve been able to encourage and assist some of them. There are surgeons and wound care nurses who have been trained and who are making a real difference and even teaching others.

We’ve learned and received much more than we’ve given or taught. And often the most important things have been learned from some of the most humble people. Those who suffer and yet endure, those who live with obstacles and challenges that to us seem impossible and yet they never give up hope in the Living God. These are the people who are among the “cloud of witnesses” in Hebrews 12, those who endure, God helping them. These are our heroes and those who encourage us and spur us on.

We thank God for the past 10 years. We’re thankful for the good and the hard; they’re both a part of His plan. We had some naive notions of what we were coming here to do. Thankfully, God’s plan was much more comprehensive than that; it was also to transform us in the process.

 

 

Link

This is not meant to be all there is to be known or understood about what’s going on in Cameroon these days around the conflict related to the ongoing strikes. It will be a brief history and explanation of what’s happening now, to better inform those of you who don’t find Cameroon updates in your news feed and also to let you know how these events affect us and our work.

Southern Cameroons was the southern part of the British Mandate territory of Cameroons during colonization.

In 1961, people of Southern Cameroons voted whether to join Nigeria or the Republic of Cameroon, which had already obtained independence from Britain and France one year earlier. The vote resulted in the Southern Cameroons becoming part of the French-speaking Republic of Cameroon.

In 1972, a new constitution was adopted in Cameroon, replacing the federal state with a unitary state.

The Cameroon Anglophone Movement was created in 1984. People originally sought a return to a federal system, but eventually started calling for independence.

The country of Cameroon is officially bi-lingual. The Cameroon Constitution states that both English and French are its state languages, though many official documents are written only in French. The issues go far beyond just the language differences, however.

 Since late October 2016, both lawyers and teachers began demonstrating for better working conditions and also against the political and economic marginalization of the two minority Anglophone regions of the country. At times the demonstrations have become violent battles between protesters and security forces. Schools in these two regions were closed and continue to be closed today. Business was halted for some time but has resumed for now.

Teachers and lawyers have long been discontent with the use of French in courts and schools within the English-speaking regions. There have been frustrations with the government for employing court workers who only speak French and don’t understand the application of British Common Law. Teachers have protested against the hiring of educators who only speak French in technical schools within the Anglophone regions.

From the more radical of the protesters, there are demands for complete independence for the Anglophone regions, separating from the rest of the country. Other more moderate protesters want to see a return to federalism.

The government has responded by clamping down on protests and arresting many. On Thursday, December 8, 2016, Cameroonian forces shot dead four demonstrators and wounded 20 others in Bamenda, the largest city in the North West, about an hour south of Mbingo. Currently at least 40 people are still being held in Yaounde after having been transported from Bamenda.

Though there has been some dialogue between the two sides, there does not seem to have been any real progress in communication thus far. The grievances of the demonstrators are not new and it does not appear that they will easily give up or be appeased. It is also not likely that the government will grant concessions.

We received 7 gunshot wound victims at Mbingo, most of them several days or even weeks after their injuries. One died shortly after arrival from an abdominal wound. The others, all young men, had very serious injuries that will lead to long-term disabilities from vascular, neural, and orthopedic injuries. We do not really know the actual number of killed and wounded victims, or whether they were involved in the protests. Some were apparently innocent bystanders and at least one, a young boy, was shot in his home by a stray bullet.

We saw a drop in our overall patient load in December partly, we think, because of difficulty that some patients had getting to us. Most of our patients come to Mbingo from a distance and most have to travel through Bamenda to get to us. We know that the increased security risks in Bamenda deterred some patients from getting to us or being able to get home after discharge.

Mbingo has enjoyed a long history of safety for our staff and patients. Even as political unrest and terrorism have affected many areas around us, such as Boko Haram in the far north, ethnic warfare in Central African Republic, Ebola in Nigeria, and sporadic civil unrest in Cameroon, Mbingo has been able to continue to provide patient care to tens of thousands of patients annually, and our training programs have thrived. We are aware that peace, especially in Africa, is a fragile thing. But our prayer is to be able to continue our work and fulfill our mission of improving health care to the region and to the continent.

 

Giving Thanks

There are various reasons for organizing a special thanksgiving service here. Among other things it might be a retirement, a baby born after some difficulty, or recovery from an illness. There are many possibilities, but always the point is to publicly and as a community give thanks to God and acknowledge dependence on Him and His provision. Debbie Bardin and I attended two that I want to tell you about. Mildred (pictured in white to my left, with her mother) came to work at Mbingo Baptist Hospital as a nurse on Ulcer Ward more than a year and a half ago. She’d been working less than two months when one day a friend saw her walking and offered a ride to the hospital to work her afternoon shift. Not far from the hospital, they were run over by a large truck and both arrived at the hospital unconscious. The friend woke up after some hours with minor injuries, but Mildred remained unconscious. For more than a month she lay on Surgery Ward, unconscious. After some days she was fed liquids through a tube. As time passed, it became more difficult for her family to care for her and afford to live there while she was an inpatient. Nursing staff on different Wards took up small collections to give her mother to buy food for her. The nurses on Surgery Ward and her mother did a fantastic job of caring for her, keeping her turned and hydrated, doing range of motion exercises, etc. Though she lay there for all that time without being able to move herself, she never developed any skin breakdown. Finally one day, she opened her eyes! We all thought she’d wake up then, but it didn’t happen. She closed them again. Some days later, she again opened them and gradually woke up. It was a slow process, not dramatic. Eventually she was able to take sips and the tube could be removed. Everything was slow and deliberate, every little gain took a lot of effort. When she did go home, she still couldn’t walk without assistance and we wondered if she ever would. But, she continued to work hard and made progress, learning to walk again and care for herself. Eventually, Mildred even came back to work, though not initially as a nurse. For a while she worked in the office where patients are registered, though late last year she began working on the Wards again. Some things aren’t quite the same as before, but she’s alive and walking, working, living here now closer to the hospital with her younger sister, where she can walk to work each day. Most things: talking, walking, dancing, etc. are now done a little slower, but she does them with all her heart. At the service, people brought gifts of money and of goods that were then auctioned off. The money all went as offerings to her home church, in Oku, where the service was held. They brought buckets of dried corn, basins and bags full of beans, bushel-sized bags of potatoes, sugar cane, plantains, at least 8-10 chickens. They just kept coming!

! Some of the gifts brought to the service

Another thanksgiving service Debbie and I attended was for a family whose son had been born with some physical disabilities. His father, Paul, works in our Surgery Clinic and his mother worked with Debbie in the HIV Clinic. The testimony his mother gave was very powerful. She didn’t know what to think when he was born or what to do; he didn’t seem “normal” and didn’t progress in sitting or walking as her other children had. Of course, like happens everywhere, many people gave her advice along the way and much of it was not helpful. They were giving thanks on this day that God had been faithful and provided for him and for blessing them with his life. He had been fitted with a brace that now enabled him to walk, which meant he could also attend school. Her message to the congregation that day was essentially, “Don’t give up hope; you don’t know yet what God is doing”. The photo below is of him with Debbie and another woman who also works in their clinic.

Taxi phrases

Ever since our first trip to Cameroon, I’ve been fascinated by the phrases written across the back of taxis. It may be a saying or proverb, a title, or a prayer. Since Ngaoundéré has more moto taxis than cars, we didn’t see as many there. And even in Yaoundé and Douala, both also in Francophone regions of the country, there aren’t as many. Though there is no scarcity of yellow cabs driving around  both cities, they don’t seem to have as many phrases painted across the back as do the taxis in Bamenda.

First off, on the back of a taxi there are usually two things painted, one on each side: the speed limit and the number of passengers allowed. I don’t know if this is required, but  the limits are certainly not followed. For a car like a Toyota Corolla, it may say, “50 km/hr” or “60 km/hr”. The passenger limit is always “5 places”. But, if you see a taxi that size with only 5 people in it, the driver is also going to be stopping frequently, trying to pick up more customers.

So these are some of the ones I’ve written down; there are many more that I didn’t write and have since forgotten.

Phrases

• People Must Talk
• Givers Never Lack
• Obedient Protects You (yes, it said obedient, not obedience)
• Take Care
• The Rich also Cry
• Never Give Up
• Let Love Lead
• Prudence
• Gents Pay
• There is Time for Everything
• La vie est un Passage ( Life is a Journey)       
• What Makes a Man?
• Tout Puissant (All-Powerful)
• Common Taxi Driver. Thanks Be to God
• Success is Hard Work
• No Sweat No Sweet
• It Pays to be Good
• Let Love Lead
• The Young will Grow
• Grumble and Stay
• Take yourself as you are

In Pidgin English

• Na Last Time Be Time (It’s the end that matters)
• Real Men Sabi Jesus (Real Men Know Jesus)
• Small Small We Go Catch Monkey (Little by little, we’ll succeed)
• Money Pass Age ( ?? )
• Man No No  (Man doesn’t know)
• Chop with Long Spoon (“Chop” means eat; Be careful!)

Titles

• Douala Boy
• Senegale Africain
• The Sheriff
• King of the Forest (on a dump truck)
• VIP
• Lucky Boy
• Lagos Boy
• Bamenda Boy
• Nine Shirt (reference to a footballer)
• City Boy
• Buea Boy
• Champion
• Coutesy

Religious

• Divine Favour
• The Messiah
• Alpha Omega
• Son of David
• All is Vanity
• Thy Will Be Done
• Our Father
• In God We Trust
• God is Great
• Jesus is the Answer
• J’aime Jesus (I love Jesus)
• Je me Confie a Dieu (My trust is in God)
• As for me and my family, we will serve the Lord
• Merci Seigneur (Thank you, Lord)
• All for God
• With God, all things are possible
• Dieu Benit la Main Qui Cherche (God Blesses the Hand that Seeks))
• Power of God
• Don’t be Proud of Your Effort, but Praise God
• Dieu n’oublie personne  (God forgets no one)
• La flamme de Dieu ( The flame of God)
• By His Grace
• Que Dieu Nous Protege (May God Protect Us)

And, last of all, my all-time favorite:

• Raw Material Candidate for Miracle   I have chuckled and smiled over that one quite a lot- and seen it several times. I imagine the driver thinking, “Here I am, Lord, ready and waiting for your miracle; go ahead and zap me!”

 

 

 

Graduation Day 2014

This year’s graduation at Mbingo didn’t have as many graduates as last year, but it was, as always, an exciting day with lots of celebrating. This year’s PAACS graduate was Dr. Nesoah with his wife, Joy, and for CIMS Dr. Kamdem with his wife, Solange.

This was a quote Jim wrote for PAACS :   “Yesterday, Dr. Nesoah graduated from PAACS. In his graduation speech, he told some of his personal history and made several observations that I think profoundly validate what we are doing in PAACS.

As a prior Marxist and Muslim, he hated the US and anything to do with Christianity. But yesterday he stood before an assembly of hundreds of people, including many government, health care, and religious leaders, and said that PAACS was the greatest thing America has ever done for Africa, including the Peace Corps, any NGO, or government program. He said the concept of Pan-Africanism has failed again and again when African nations try to come together to solve their problems, but PAACS is the one exception. He told how residents in surgery from many nations- Cameroon, Gabon, Nigeria, Sierra Leone, Mali, Congo, Uganda, Burundi, Rwanda, Ethiopia, Kenya, Tanzania, Malawi, Egypt, South Sudan, Angola, and other places, and residents from numerous denominations have come together under PAACS with a common faith in Christ and the common goal of changing the face of health care on this needy continent where the governments have failed their people so miserably. He spoke of how PAACS gave him hope for Africa after having spent years in failed ideologies. It was an incredible speech.

Dr. Nesoah became a surgical resident when he was already in his mid-40’s. He has struggled academically and has had many ups and downs. But his faith in Christ is unshakable, and his words reflect a deep humility and self-awareness of his weaknesses and an awareness of the sufficiency of Christ. In a few months, he will move to the far north of Cameroon to work where he will be in a minority religion as the only surgeon for a very needy population. Please pray for him.”

It’s become a tradition that the PAACS graduates pick a fabric and all the PAACS family have something made from it to wear either to the graduation or to the parties afterwards. Though I didn’t get photos of them, even most of the children had outfits made. In one photo, Rose is holding Ben and Carine’s baby, Ketia, dressed in her Graduation Day dress.

As usual after the formal ceremony there was a huge meal prepared by the hospital kitchen staff. It still amazes us that at these events the hospital feeds all the staff and all guests! We tried not to eat too much, knowing there were still two parties to attend where there would again be plenty of food.

At the Nesoah’s house, there were dancers from Oku. They sang and danced to some traditional music, providing entertainment for those sitting outside to eat. Late in the afternoon, we walked across the street to Dr. Kamdem’s house. They’d had a big party earlier in a nearby hall. The party that continued at the house seemed to be over, but they continued to bring out untouched platters of fish, chicken, salad, plantains, rice, fresh fruit, and finally, birthday cake. It was Dr. Kamdem’s birthday! We all sang happy birthday to him and had some delicious cake on top of everything else we’d eaten. Just before we left at 6PM, more than 20 guests arrived to wish them well, so the party started up anew again. It was a long, exhausting but happy day.

    

I haven’t figured out how to label the photos. *At the top is the faculty and 2 visiting professors with the graduates and wives *Below that one are 3 of the wives of residents with Nesoah and Joy. * Dr. Nesoah at the podium * Jim with Steve Sparks * Rachael and Joy *some of the residents with Joy and Nesoah *Jim and me with Joy and Nesoah * Me, Rachael, and Rani * dancing at the party

 

 

 

A Chief with a Difference

This month, New Hope Village and the Mbingo family lost a vital member of the community. She was called by most people Mammy Fundong, though her real name was Awoh Monica. Monica was a strong lady who had suffered many losses in her life. Maybe it was partly those losses that God used to shape her and make her strong. She was definitely not one to let go or give up quickly. Even in the illness that took her, she lived much longer than the doctors thought she could possibly survive.

It was only recently that I learned why she was called Mammy Fundong. Years ago, she was found in the town of Fundong, about an hour north of Mbingo, having been abandoned  by her family because of her disease, leprosy. She was brought to Mbingo to live and later to New Hope Village. Here she found a new family and a new life. Monica was what they call a “burned out” case: when found, she had never been treated for leprosy, and was already manifesting the signs of severe nerve damage and loss of sensation.

You can see in this photo, taken in the fall of 2012 at New Hope, that she eventually lost all of her fingers and both legs. In spite of being wheel-chair bound, she was very active, keeping her little house clean and working in her garden. I’m not sure of all that she grew, but do know she grew sugarcane and pineapples. The wheelchair went in the garden; when inside, she walked on her knees. She was also often doing little kindnesses for people, giving small gifts: little things that showed people they were important to her.

Her burial service was at the Catholic Church adjacent to New Hope Village, where she was a member. It was interesting watching people come in. Many of those who came share the disease she suffered from. They came using crutches, canes, and with wooden legs. Some dressed in their Sunday best;  others wore the worn and ragged clothing they can be seen in each day. Many hospital workers were there: nurses, cleaners, laundry workers, much of the kitchen staff, several chaplains, some administrative staff, and many others.

I’ve only been at Mbingo a few years, but it didn’t take long to realize that Mammy Fundong was kind of an icon here. Her life touched many people and the community of those who live with Hanson’s Disease looked to her as a leader. She was a strong force, and someone they could depend on. You may know that African villages always have a Chief, and it is tradition that Chiefs are men. In spite of that tradition, Mammy Fundong was the Chief of New Hope Village. At her burial, one of the speakers described her as “a Chief with one big difference: she was a woman.”

Getting around Bamenda

           Getting into and out of Bamenda can take more time than I’d planned for, especially as I never seem to arrive as early as intended. On a road with potholes so large that I must slowly ease the car down into them, there is room for two lanes of traffic to be comfortable. But there are definitely two going in my direction and another coming at us. Then we come to a place where taxis are stopped. Since there’s no shoulder, we must all make our way around them while avoiding the deepest potholes. The car we have now is a Toyota Rav 4 and I’m always afraid of doing something bad to the underside of it if I bounce a little while going too fast over the bumps or through the small craters. But, slow down too much and yet another lane will surely form while those who can’t wait are scrambling to get around. I’ m trying to pay particular attention to those potholes and the carts, which can be unpredictable. You know how you learn with time to judge the distance of the front of your car so you can maneuver to park, etc.? I can now most of the time judge how these moto taxis are going to weave in and out, doing the dance they do. But then there are the carts! They’re made of thick metal pipes and are often about 3 ft. high, which can be hard to see. They may be pushed by one or two people, depending on the weight and unsteadiness of the load. It’s hard to know when they’ll decide to cross in front of me or just come a little more into “my” space. Without a shoulder, the pavement becomes prime real estate that many are jockeying to keep their places in!

In the meantime, there’s a lot else to see that’s extremely interesting. The things that are riding or are carried on a moto never cease to amaze me: whole families, two people plus a large pig, two people and a basketful of chickens, a driver and passenger with the passenger holding a tied-up mattress on his head, a dresser  behind the driver, etc. The possibilities seem endless. All this and much more is going down the road while I’m trying to negotiate the potholes, go around the taxis stopped to pick up passengers, read the phrases written across the bumpers and trunks of the taxis, and keep *mostly* within my lane and on the right side of the road. It’s a challenge! Every time I drive into Bamenda, though, I’m thankful it’s not Yaounde, where the city is bigger, and many more taxis means bigger and more serious traffic jams. I’m also always thankful to arrive back in quiet, peaceful Mbingo.

Connections

I talk about writing, and make resolutions to post more blogs, but still don’t. Why not? Of course I say I’m busy, which I sometimes am, but that’s not always the whole truth. I’m often afraid: of not saying it right, of what others will think, of offending someone if they don’t see it quite the way I do. And then, there’s the issue of speaking for Jim. It can at times be difficult for me to just write down what I want to say when I’m also trying to speak for both of us. And, things are sometimes hard and they involve other people and I don’t want to share that with the world. It’s true for all of us that what’s going on with us is most of the time mixed up with other people. That’s a good thing, really, but as everyone knows, it is also usually awkward or not appropriate to write about in a public way.

On the other hand, there are so many things we see and do each day that I do want to share. I’m always saying and thinking, “I’m going to blog about that.” And then, I don’t.

So, now that I’ve gotten that out there, I might as well continue with what’s hard right now. Jim and I were recently in the US. I was there for four weeks, Jim for two. I was able to see our 3 children who live in upper SC the first week after arriving, then Rachel and her family visited Charleston for a weekend. After Jim arrived, Julie and family came for a weekend. It was especially fun to have them come visit us. They sometimes go to our condo when we’re NOT there and when we’re in the US, we always visit them, but having them come to visit us is rare, so that was special.

The day Julie and her family left Charleston, Palm Sunday, we followed them up to Greenville where we also saw Rob (Codi was away visiting a friend) and Rachel and family. We were even able to be there to celebrate Caleb’s 6th birthday, which was a lot of fun. From there, we traveled to see Catherine and Matt, then Jenny, Andy, and Lucinda, and finally Laura and Michael. Easter Sunday for us this year was spent driving from Maryland back to Charleston. We always bring books we’re reading together and plenty to listen to, so the time passed quickly.

Somewhere along the way, though, we both began to feel very sad. This is not usual for either of us. We’d had good visits with each of our children and grandchildren and other family members. At that point it was less than two days before we’d be leaving, though. We’d been here before: you’re so glad to see them and get to talk, to hear how they’re doing. You go away wanting to stay that connected, but then the internet is too slow for Skype, the time is 5-6 hours different, you keep trying to “connect” in the same way, but it’s not the same as being there.

And then there are grandchildren. The older ones (ours are ages 7, 6, 2, 2, 1, 1, and 1) remember us, including the 2 year olds, but not those little ones. We’re not there for any of  them as we’d love to be.

We’re happy to be doing what we’re doing in Cameroon, but this is also one of the realities. We miss them, we miss being a part of their daily lives. Thankfully, we talked that night about those sad feelings. Sharing them helped. By morning, we had pushed them aside to focus on the last-minute things that needed to be done before leaving. And then, later that day, a complete surprise to us: Julie called to say she and Casey are considering coming to Cameroon to visit us in the fall. Now THAT’S something to look forward to!

Most of this was written while we were at a meeting in Greece. It was a nice time away; we both came back rested and ready to work. Since our return May 8th, our internet connection has been either extremely slow or completely out. For Jim that’s especially hard as he always has several hours of work each night related to the PAACS program, visitors, etc.

For me, it’s hard to feel disconnected from the world beyond Mbingo, especially family. Yes, there was a time when people lived this far away and didn’t have e-mail, Skype, Facebook, or even phone service to depend on. I’m sure it was harder than I realize. I do remember those days when Jim was deployed on a ship. A letter took two weeks to get to him and then the answer was two more weeks.

It costs a little, but at least I can pick up the phone and call. This week, I talked to my mother, Jenny, Rachel, and Julie. Staying connected with those we love helps a lot.

 

 

Christmas at Mbingo

Somehow I lost this post previously so am starting over without notes in haste to finish before Christmas day is over. Holidays are one of those things so closely connected to family and certain traditions that become personal preferences. It can happen, though, that when those things you associate with the holiday are so different in a new place, the holiday may come and go and it never really “felt” like Christmas.

This is our 6th Christmas in Cameroon and the 3rd one spent in Mbingo. Now that we are more settled here and a part of this community, there are things that happen here at Christmas that we’ll always miss when we’re not here.

The first is singing in the hospital Chapel. Chapel is at 6:40 AM Monday through Saturday for all workers. During the month of December all departments and groups are assigned a day to sing in Chapel. I sing with Ulcer Ward, Jim with the PAACS team, and another time with the missionaries. Two years ago when we were still getting to know people here, the nurses told me we needed to practice to do our singing bit. I went along, with some reluctance. It turned out to be the first thing I’d participated in that left me with the sense that I was a part of the Mbingo family. I love hearing all the different groups sing. Some are quite large and some as small as 6 or 7 people. During December, after Chapel when staff have dispersed to go to work, you can hear departments practicing their songs as you walk through the hospital. The photo of the group on stage is of a day in mid December when the Maintenance Department sang.

Another favorite for me is the Ulcer Ward party. What I really need here is a video so you could see and hear all that goes on. The singing, the dancing, the sometimes heated discussions about the order of things….  Beforehand, everyone has given a little money towards food and one of the nurses has arranged that. Those who want to participate have drawn names and bought a gift for their person. That person is also someone they are to pray for during the coming year. The party begins with the singing of choruses while we wait for everyone to come. Would you be prepared to just start off a song a cappella with no notice? I’m always amazed that at almost any group meeting there is singing. Thankfully, they don’t usually call on us foreigners for that part. The gift-giving includes both singing and dancing. Everyone is singing a chorus in the local language, Kom, that has been translated for me as, “Mama, I am coming, oh…” if the recipient is female and “Papa, I am coming, oh….” if male. While singing, the first person dances around with the gift while others are singing and clapping, usually going to several others pretending they are the recipient before finally stopping at the person whose name they drew. There are shouts and clapping and hugging; the recipient then becomes the dancer and goes around the room to the person whose name they drew. This goes on till all gifts are given, then we all take our gifts in hand and dance around the room in a large circle singing thanks to God for all that He has given. Afterwards there is prayer and food. The photo is of dancing during the singing time.

One day during the week of Christmas is set aside as a day that the staff gives gifts to the patients. There are lists posted and your gift assignment is not on the Ward you work on. The gift might be soap or a small food item. One person is assigned to each Ward to be in charge of collecting and organizing the giving of the gifts.

There are always church services on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. These tend to be very long as different children’s and adult groups do a presentation of singing or a drama in addition to the worship service.

These are just a few things. There are other parties with the Residents, the hospital staff, and gatherings of the missionaries to celebrate with songs and food we are used to.

There are things missing here that we’re accustomed to: you see very few decorations or Christmas lights, the music we’re used to hearing at Christmas will probably only be heard when with other missionaries in their homes or on our own iPod. Church services are very different than those at home and Christmas carols are not often sung there.

The things that DO matter ARE here. In Mbingo, Christmas isn’t about buying gifts or commercial things. It’s about celebrating the Gift of God. It’s about giving thanks to Him again and again. It’s about giving thanks that He’s allowed us to see this Christmas. God is using our friends here to open our eyes to what matters much more than our traditions and preferences.

Celebrating Women’s Day

International Women’s Day is celebrated around the world on March 8. In different regions the focus of the celebration ranges from general celebration to specific activities. In some countries it’s a public holiday. In Cameroon, it’s not a public holiday but is widely observed, with many public and private institutions closing for the day. In towns of any size, many women will march together through the town.

Each year there’s a theme chosen for the celebration. This year’s was “Time for action to end violence against women.” In Cameroon, there are always Women’s Day fabrics printed and you see them for sale in the market. Many women have dresses made of these fabrics (usually there are 2-3 color choices of the same print) in time to wear them on that day.

First I need to explain a bit about the Ward I spend most of my time on, Ulcer Ward. It’s different in that many of the patients are there for a long time with their chronic wounds. And over time there develops a bond among the patients and caregivers. Many of them help each other out, tell the nurses when their neighbor needs something, share food, rejoice and cry with one another, and  keep up with each other by phone after they return home.

During the last week of February, I was going to change some dressings on three ladies at one end, and told them I’d be back to take care of the “ladies corner”. When I returned, one of them, Mary, began asking me how the “ladies corner” might celebrate Women’s Day. They laughed and came up with many ideas. We laughed  the most over the idea that they would all march from Ulcer Ward to the front of the hospital and when they returned, the men would serve them food!

Over the next few days, they kept talking about their ideas and I was regretting that I wouldn’t be there to honor them. I told Mary I’d be leaving, but would contribute something to their celebration. Most of our patients are usually men, so at the time there were only 10 women, plus 2 caregivers of men who’d been there so long they seemed like family. I bought one piece of fabric (6 yards), but the only thing I could think to do was to hem 12 pieces and give them each one, just as a token.

In the meantime, they had decided to go together and cook chicken and share it. The day before we left, I finished hemming all the fabric pieces and also made 2 recipes of pound cake into 50 cupcakes with a “W” on each one in icing, so they plus all the men and the staff could have one. We had to leave by 8AM, so I took them to the Ward at 7AM and asked the nurses to give them out.

That day as we traveled from Mbingo to Douala, I saw many women dressed in their Women’s Day dresses. Seeing all the different styles is always interesting. In some towns we saw them marching together, in others they were just out shopping. I kept wondering what the “ladies corner” and the others on Ulcer Ward ended up doing, if anything.

On my return in late April, 4 of the ladies were still  on the Ward. Mary was one of them and told me that they had marched to the front of the hospital, gotten this photo taken, and then ate the chicken they’d cooked. Later I was able to get a copy of the photo from the photographer.

They aren’t dressed in colorful clothes, but plain hospital gowns, and several of their bandages are showing. No one is smiling and you can’t tell by this photo all that went into getting them there. But I love it that in spite of all that and the difficulty I know all but two of them had with walking, they chose to walk down there (about 150 yards) and back, wearing their little head scarves of Women’s Day fabric, paid to get this photo made, and went back to eat their chicken. As Mary said, this was their day and they wanted to do SOMETHING to celebrate it. And they did. That makes me smile each time I think of it.