Change of Mail Destination

After much delay I finally made it to the ever so busy post office to mail some thank you letters (long overdue) and a few packages. This mail run was quite international compared to the average shipment, at least compared to where I normally mail. I sent two letters to Norway, one letter to the Netherlands, two packages to Canada and will be sending one more package to Lesotho (hint, hint N, N and C). I also sent one very important packet of envelopes to my final recommender for graduate school. This last package was domestic and a bit of a disappointment to my post office guy who was hoping that I would be doing my entire transaction abroad.

I only wish I were able to delivers these things in person...but my mom would kill me if I even mentioned traveling anytime soon!

Attack of the Squirrels!

Now that my niece is old enough to run around I decided to take her to the park. Little did I know that our picnic at the park would turn into Auntie Shayla vs The Squirrels! There we were on our picnic blanket enjoying our snacks and up walked a squirrel. I did not think anything of it until he kept walking up to our blanket. When he was about a foot away I was on full alert. I kept thinking he would jump on our blanket or worse jump on my niece since she was munching away on one of her cookies. After shooing him away a couple of times another squirrel decided to join our party. We played the “inch closer – shoo away” game for about ten minutes before I decided to move our blanket from the shaded area to a less tree filled spot.

Of course this did not sway these determined squirrels one bit! They knew that humans provided food and were determined to get some from us. Unfortunately I was not going to feed these squirrels and was not humored by their determination or friendliness. We were joined at our new location by the two original squirrels plus a third squirrel. Also these squirrels decided to team up against me so as I shooed one away another would creep up from the other side. I was so irritated by these attacking squirrels that I was actually kicking at them at one point. I just kept thinking about this article I once read in the paper about squirrels that attacked and killed this man in England. I was not going to be front page news because of some squirrels. Of course I probably looked plenty crazy to the other people in the park.

In the end the squirrels did a good job in running me off. I took my niece to the swings and decided that I will just have to learn to ignore the squirrels if I want to go back.

The Hermit Life

My sister pointed out the funniest thing last night. My mother, like most moms, was contradicting herself by telling my sister that she goes out to much and worrying that I do not go out enough!

I think she fears that I will become a hermit! Which is funny since I do enjoy socializing and have never had trouble fitting in, making friends and being the center of attention. What concerns her is that I have pruned my list of friends over the years and have not added to many to the list.But what I explain to her is that I have added to my list of friends. The tough part is that many of my closest and dearest friends live in other cities, states or countries! Many of my friendships from high school have died of natural causes: we grew up and grew apart. Many of my friends in college have moved further away or are in our college town while I now live in South Florida. And many of my friends over the past two years abroad are abroad. Many live in Europe and a few are still working in Africa.

I know that with time things will change. As I continue to settle I will meet new people who match my current state. With work and school again I will begin to socialize once more. And life will continue to on as it always does; some friendships will die naturally, some will be pruned back and new ones will blossom.

I think for now to make my mom feel better my sisters and I will simply average our night time adventures...that should balance it nicely!

I am NOT a Standardized Test!

For the last month I have had a one track mind. My main focus right now is the GRE which I have to do well on for graduate school. This test is evil and must be defeated. It currently occupies more of my time than actually applying to graduate schools. I can honestly admit that I was under-prepared for the difficulty of this test. It was not like the SAT that I took to get into college. With that test I did not study and did better than most of my peers. And it was not like the LSAT that I took for entry into law school. With that exam I studied a far deal and did average. This test was insane! It was unlike any standardized test that I have ever taken.

The thing that made it hardest was that it was computerized and not the normal bubble in answer sheet that comes with most standardized tests. This made it extremely difficult. instead of being able to write on the booklet you had to rely on the scratch paper provided. This was frustrating but I actually caught myself a few times during the math sections where I had copied the question down incorrectly. One misplaced number or symbol will ruin all the work you put into a problem.

The worst part about the computerized test is that it requires you to work on one problem at a time. You can not skip ahead and worst you can not go back! So once you are stuck on a problem to bad. You have to answer and move on. You can not go back and change an answer and you can not skip to something easier.

I find it amazing that schools still use standardized test when nothing else in life is really standardized. I am not standardized. Why should my acceptance into graduate school rely so heavily on this test? Does this test show my interest in development and humanitarian aid? Does it show my passion for Africa? Does it hint at my adventurous side? Does it reveal that I will be an excellent graduate student? No, but somehow it will be used by every school I apply to and help rank me with the other applicants. So this test stands as my arch-rival and I will conquer it! I am keeping this enemy very close.

Definitely an Adjustment

So my one year old niece may break me. She is adorable, she is cute, she is giggly and sweet. And she does not know who I am. Somehow I imagined it would be easier. I hoped that she would accept me quickly and my absence for her entire time post womb would be ignored. But this little girl does not have amnesia. She knows who each member of our family is and knows that she does not know me.

It is a very tough pill to swallow. She cries when she thinks she is being left alone with me and we have had to resort to trickery when I babysit (me taking her for a walk in her stroller while my sisters, dad, or mom escape the house). My mom continues to insist that it will just take time, which I know is right, but it also makes me fear that I will also be the last resort family member because of my late start. I do not regret this year or the year before that. How many people can say they spent 2 years in Africa, have friends in numerous countries on numerous continents, and have traveled the globe? So I feel and fear that this is one consequence that I will just have to deal with.

Home

I am home. After 1 year, 2 months and 5 days I have returned. It is such a weird feeling to be back home. I am excited of course. It is great to be back to such familiar territory after a year of living in community with people who are now friends but were once strangers. And the 2 months I spent being a vagabond were nice but I am beyond sick of living in a suitcase. I am happy to begin this next phase of my life; to start putting down my own roots.

I am also happy to meet my niece. She turns one next week and Sunday was the first time I have seen her. Leaving when my sister was still pregnant is a good way to ensure my status as the unknown, weird but quirky, fun auntie. I have bought her gifts from each of my stops in hopes of buying her love! We shall see if it works.

But I am a little nervous as well. It some weird way I have also grown use to my slightly random lifestyle and am nervous that settling back into life will be hard. I am prepared for some of the reentry road blocks: friendships will be different, I and the people in my life have changed, and the world continues to go at its break neck speed which I will have to readjust myself to.

Luckily, I will have plenty to do to help keep me busy and will require my attention. I will need to get a job. Hopefully this will not take to long and I will be able to find something that will be fun since I definitely need some work related recovery time after this last year. I will also begin the long and arduous road that will lead into my next chapter: graduate school. After much thought, advice, prayer and nervousness I have decided to return to school and pursue a master’s degree. I have a long road ahead of me indeed and have to get moving right away. I will be studying for and taking the GRE in late October (please pray for me) and will be sending out my applications for the Fall 2009 in November and December. I will also be, hopefully, following my most random decision by moving up North. So I will be applying for schools in the Northeast and hope to be moving there in the summer. The location will, of course, be based on where I am accepted. Finally, as if I do not have enough on my plate, I need to decide what area I want to pursue in graduate school. Since my undergraduate degree was Political Science with an African Studies focus I plan to following with either International Relations with an African Studies concentration or Development with an African Studies concentration. I will also be looking at courses in Emergency/ Relief Management.

How you can help: pray for me whenever you think about me. I will need it!

The Netherlands, Scotland and Norway

Since I had to travel through Europe to return to the States I decided to travel through Europe again. This time I went to three new countries and was able to reunite with a number of fellow ex-Mercy ship's crew members.

Each country was amazing and my friends were all amazing hosts. I am so blessed to be able to not only do some traveling but to be able to stay in homes instead of having to check into hostels or hotels. I will be posting pictures of each stop now that I am home and have internet access...enjoy!

Round 1: Lesotho

My departure from the ship took me straight to Lesotho. I had to travel from Liberia to Lesotho via Ghana and South Africa. It was a long trip but definitely worth it. The best travel memory was made in Ghana. I had to walk out of the airport and go completely around the building to make a "transfer" connection. So with the help of one of the airport employees I departed the airport, walked down the Accra sidewalk, circled the airport to the back of the building and entered the departures area! It was insane but great since I was able to experience some Ghanaian night life, see a bit of Accra and feel completely terrified at the same time! It has been awhile since I have been truly scared while in Africa. But it was great and my guide was very nice.

Being back in Lesotho was a dream that ended to quickly. Seeing Nathan, Nicole and Caleb was much needed medicine after the physical, mental and spiritual assault I experienced in Liberia. I was able to rest which, although I did not do much of it, it was nice to know I could rest if I wanted to. I felt appreciated, truly appreciated, which I sadly had not felt in quite awhile. I was able to nurse the entire family back to health as we all had various symptoms of a flu-like bug only a few days after my arrival. I was able to laugh with people I had not seen in over a year and it was great to be surrounded by familiar faces and voices.

We fell into our very familiar groove so quickly it almost felt like I had not left Lesotho at all. There is something very special about being with people who you know so well and who know you. You are able to just relax and be yourself. I truly appreciate the role this family has played in my life over the years (we have known each other for over 5 years which is crazy) and I appreciate just being able to go visit them. They may not be the family I was born into but they are definitely the family I will continue to choose to be a part of...I love my brother, sister and nephew more than words will ever fully capture!

* Some pictures from this leg of the trip are also on my blog. The first few are just around the house but the last section took place at Bloemfontein Zoo in South Africa. We took an adventure there and I have never felt so much freedom at a zoo before. There were no people guarding, guiding or supervising us. Except for the lady at the ticket booth I did not see any zoo employees minus a couple of lawn guys near the end. We pet the animals (Nathan a rhino and Nicole a water buffalo), we fed the animals (Nathan, Caleb and myself fed the monkeys pretzels) and we goofed off like people in an unsupervised zoo will do! It was wonderful!

After All it’s a Small World

I have begun my travel through Europe and my first stop in Rotterdam, Netherlands. In the first 48 hours I have tried to set some sort of crazy record with the amount of traveling I have done. I have traveled through 5 countries with 7 modes of transportation and all but the last mode of transportation were in the first 24 hours!

My countries:

1. Lesotho

2. South Africa

3. Germany

4. Belgium

5. Netherlands

My modes of transportation:

1. Plane

2. Train

3. Metro (subway)

4. Bus

5. Walking

6. Car

7. Ferry

It is great being somewhere were this is possible. Please be aware that if you should try this type of traveling adventure you will be exhausted. This means that you may fall asleep in inconvenient places and wake up with stares from your fellow travleors!

Part 2: Hanging by a Thread

I am so happy to be leaving Africa with a positive attitude now because a few months ago I was far from positive. I was done…finished…tired. I just finished reading “Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith” by Rob Bell and he summarizes my old feelings so precisely:

“What do you do when you hear the room filling up with thousands of people who are expecting you to give them words from God, and you don’t even know if it is true anymore?”

I was exhausted.

I was burned out.

I was full of doubt.

I was done.

I had nothing more to say.

I was giving everything I had to every area that I was involved in and I was slowly being torn into a million different pieces. I could not stop the machine that I was a part of and I could not slow down the demands being placed upon me. I was giving far more than what most people know as 100 percent. At the peak of my “Insane Time” I was working from 07:30 to 22:00 or even 23:00. I remember telling one of my friends I knew what Bilbo meant when he said he felt like butter spread over to much bread (from the book the Lord of the Rings; and yes, I really did say this).

I was slowly falling apart and parts of me were dying inside. I felt like a piece of machinery in my way to demanding job and had nothing to give on the weekends at the orphanage, which is where I actually wanted to be.

It took awhile for me to realize but it was during this period that I learned that I have a soul. There was a part of me that needed to be fed, needed to feel alive, needed to be nurtured and it was being neglected this time in Liberia. I was surrounded by task oriented people. And while completely tasks are extremely important in maintaining the big picture, forgetting to feed and nurture each other is a horrible sacrifice.

Things I learned this year:

• I learned that I have a soul and I am not my job.
• I learned that some of the most under-appreciated people will never be recognized while those recognized are the most overrated.
• I learned that even a faith based organization can do an excellent job of serving the poorest of the poor while neglecting those that serve.
• I learned that I can survive being on my own.
• I learned that without rest, food and fun I am evil.
• I learned that if I do not maintain the balance within my own life no one will.
• I learned that I have to say enough.
• I learned to laugh at the insanity and ignore the unimportant things.
• I learned that some of the most unexpected people can change your life.

Part 1: Why Africa?

I can remember the day so clearly. It was a Wednesday evening and I was preparing to close and leave work for the night. And I knew. I just knew. I could not go to law school that fall. Actually it was not even a thought that could be questioned. I knew it as clearly as I know my name. I had to go to Africa. I HAD to go.

It was a feeling that was so strong, so powerful; I do not know if I ever felt anything like it before. In normal circumstances I would have been terrified by such clarity, but on that day I had peace about the situation. It made sense on a level that is not reached often. This thing inside of me was so strong that I had to act on it. That sense that there is something deep in the fiber of your being that you have to do, and if you don’t do it, you will be violating something…or somebody?

It was not a choice to go to Africa. I had to go.

I do not know if you can relate to what I am saying. If you can congratulations we share experiences that do not make sense. If you can not sorry; maybe one day your gut will freak you out while you try to go about living your life. The one area that did terrify me was telling my parents. How do you tell the people who have supported your dream of becoming a lawyer since the age of 8 that you have changed your mind? As I sat in my car in the parking lot after work that day I decided to just bite the bullet and let my mom give me her mind right then and there. She was amazing! I had barely gotten the words out of my mouth before she replied with the two most precious words: I know. My dad was not so easy to win over but he eventually accepted my phase. Somehow everyone I shared it with just knew which saved me the trouble of trying to explain my change to them.

All I can say is that I knew it would be better to try and fail, because at least I would be true to myself.

And the worst thing would be to live wondering “what if?”

The Wizard Gave a Brain

As most people around the world know the United States is currently in the election race for the next president. I never thought the day would come when I would agree with anything said or done by a member of the infamous Hilton family...especially when referring to politics! But I have been proven wrong and can hardly believe that I am posting this. Kathy Hilton, the mother of Paris Hilton, actually said something worth being heard!

Apparently there is a new ad by John McCain, the Republican presidential candidate, that dismisses Barack Obama's popularity by comparing it to mere celebrity's like Paris Hilton and Britney Spears. This brought on the disapproval from Kathy Hilton, a McCain donor, which is my quote this week.

"It is a complete waste of the country's time and attention at the very moment when millions of people are losing their homes and their jobs. And it is a completely frivolous way to choose the next president of the United States."

Now I don't care if you are a Republican, Democrat, unknown, apathetic, or Independent...who would have thought the woman actually makes sense! You can not deny the fact that she is correct in this statement because it is wasting time, money and attention. This ad, like so many from both parties, is continued proof that these politicians would rather launch negative attacks rather than debate important issues. As a person trying to follow the campaign trails from overseas all I keep hearing about is "he's old" and "he's a racist" and "he's playing the race card" and "he is just like the other presidents". I am not hearing them talk about anything: the war, the economy, health care, education, social security (ok, there is nothing to talk about there), foreign affairs, and numerous other social issues.

I am so happy to be on the other side of the pond because most of the pre-election day campaigning is a big waste of money and resembles two kids on the playground. I can not believe how much he said/ he said goes on between grown adults and their peers. And since this year's election run started last year I am very happy that I will only have to endure a month of it before we take it to the ballot. I just hope they start talking about something important and defining the issues so that I do not have to vote for the "lesser of two evils" again this year (but I have an odd feeling I will).

I Miss You!

I am having a bittersweet moment as I realize that I am back in the world, on my own again. There is some things I missed so much. The independents to go and do whatever you want, usually whenever you want. There is a sort of freedom and fun involved with being unattached. But I have lived in some form of a community for two years now (more intensely this last year). In some ways I have become like a tamed animal being re-released into the wild and I am constantly having to deal with things that are surprising to me.

I am completely indecisive and it is driving me crazy (and probably starting to drive my friends crazy as well). At first I thought it was just something I needed to shake off, like a new form of jet lag. But as the days have gone by I finally realized last night what is my issue. I have not had to make nearly as many decisions in over two years! What do I want to eat? Well I am use to the meal being laid out for me and me just determining what portion sizes I want. Where do I want to go? Yeah, the schedule was pretty routine too. What do I want to do in the evenings? Again, another routine that was only rarely varied. Even something like picking out a movie usually involved 10 people.

I even caught myself wandering around after my friends. I am use to being with people...all of the time. It's funny being able to sit down and read a book on the couch and NOT having people interrupt every five minutes to know what I am reading, if I wanted to do something later or to tell me about their day. I have become accustomed to interruptions. Having people always there.

And I miss my people! It is something I feel every few hours. I want to know what they are doing, almost to the point where I think maybe I can go back to Liberia for a few days. I am enjoying being here in Lesotho with friends who are so familiar and I have known for so many years they are like family, but I still miss my MS friends, my newer family members. I miss Red, who knows me so well it's sometimes scary when she calls me out on stuff. She would definitely be a co-author in any "Shayla For Dummies" book. I miss Ali (my Ali-gator), who is so funny and silly, but insightful and just awesome to be around. I miss Carson, who is a great special friend and always knows the conversation question to ask that will get under my skin (in a good way). I miss being able to find him just because and not needing a reason to hang out. I miss Phil, shoot the boy is funny and always real (I love real honesty!). I miss the sassy moms club, especially Hanneke and Sally. I am always surprised by what they say and yet not shocked at the same time. I miss my Brazilian family Tatyana, Estevam and even Rodrigo! I miss being able to just relax and be myself since they seemed to be able to take whatever I could throw out.

I miss people who left before I did but have also left holes. I miss Yvonne, my Norwegian sister! She loves me just the way I am, but always knows how to tell me when to hush and encourages me to be a better person. I miss Sarah, who seems to always see me, even in the dark times. Her hugs are legendary and she is my Sarah-bear. I miss Megan aka Megatron. The girl is weird, random, and very messy but she is also genuine, funny and has creativity oozing out of her. I miss Nadine, who can sing as sweetly as an angel and has a heart that loves. I miss Sean (my brother always), who is such a teenage boy with so much to learn but who is also very loving and loves to have fun.

There are so many people, families, couples, kids that I miss. I could not begin to write them all down. It really is amazing when you look back at the people who impact your life. I am so grateful for all of the memories that I have and the people that i have met. And am so happy that a few will be see you later instead of goodbye. I can not wait for the day of hello to come again!

Reality vs Expectations

This has been quite a year and it is humorous how much things can change to make it such a sad goodbye. I came with a lot of expectations of my time in Liberia and with Mercy Ships. Some were unreasonably high and I can not blame Mercy Ships for failing to meet them. Some were reasonable but were still failed by the organization and/ or the community on board the Africa Mercy. Then there were things that I did not expect and they have made this year memorable.

I did not expect to fall in love with the crew and community here. I guessed I would make friends and even enjoy my time here but I never expected to meet so many amazing people and families here. This international detail adds character and, while it sometimes added challenges, it usually was wonderful. I have met so many people from around the globe and have increased my list of "countries to visit" ridiculously. I have learned that people really are the same no matter where they come from. I am convinced that Dutchies (people from the Netherlands) are the European cousins of Americans because they are so opinionated, sassy, loud and funny.

I did not expect to enjoy the families so much...even if it had to develop over time. One of the hardest things to get use to was the fact that living in community means sharing the lives of others...ALL THE TIME! It would be like moving into your neighbor's house and seeing the good, the bad and the ugly (and often having no escape and always having no choice). You are in a family's kitchen as they eat their meals, watching the kids throw temper tantrums, hissy fits and everything else. Sometimes, especially at breakfast on a Saturday morning, I would just want to ask the kids to please be quiet (some of us are actually trying to hear each other). Or in community meetings when I would actually want to listen to the speaker but the kid two rows over wants to talk...then he wants to skip down the aisle...then he wants to sing a song (you get the idea).

Living in community also lets you watch the children learn and grow. You see every milestone: crawling, walking, talking. It is so beautiful to look at the kids and be able to say "I remember when you couldn't do...". And being here for a year made me a part of the family because I become part of the community. So we practice a lot of grace in the petri dish that we live in and call community. We singles have to remember that most families do not have to raise and disciple their kids in front of other people and can escape the store or playground when their child throws the temper tantrum. It is a world that I do not know if I could live in as a family. The kids play on a concrete dock - they do not have grass to roll in or trees to climb. They really do not have anything to climb and the open decks are very limited in size. The children of crew sacrifice in different but equal ways.

As someone who is not fond of hospitals, I did not expect to fall in love with so many of the patients. I will miss being able to visit B Ward. One of my last evenings involved me going down for a quick visit to play with Prince and Kossi. Prince was sleepy and wanted me to hold him. As I played cars with Kossi he fell asleep in my lap. It was wonderful! As he lay there I kept thinking "I will miss this'. Where at home can you walk onto the ward, have the kids run down the hall once they see you, and play until they fall asleep? I even chastised the nurses who walked past and wanted to know if the boys would like to go back to their beds to watch the movie Annie. It was a sweet chastise, simply to remind them that I would only be able to snuggle very soon (and the kids have probably seen Annie at least 10 times). I think they understood...that is what being in community is about!

The Pursuit of Liberty

The sun is starting to lower in the sky but I will not be able to watch this sunset. At least not in Liberia and not from our beloved dock in Freeport. I will see today’s sunset from the sky. I am sitting in a Kenya Airways airplane preparing for flight KQ0509 to Accra, Ghana. I have said goodbye to Liberia, to the crew on board the Africa Mercy, to my beloved patients on B Ward, and to some amazing friends I have made.

My goodbye was half-hearted, mostly because I can not believe that I am leaving Liberia. As I look at the items in the seatback in front of me I see the Kenya Airway’s motto “The Pride of Africa”. I wonder what South African Airlines thinks about that boast. But then I think about another motto I have become familiar with over the last year. It is Liberia’s motto “The Pursuit of Liberty Brought Us Here”. This liberty that originally brought freed American slaves back to Africa and subsequently to the shores of what is now called Liberia is still being pursued by Liberians living there today. They seek liberty from poverty, illness, and disease. To have a healthcare and an education system. To see their children grow and have children of their own.

I pray Liberia continues to chase this liberty until it is shared by all. I pray that they continue to seek what their ancestors and founders failed to establish: a free Liberia for all. As President Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf says “Liberia will rebuild”.

An American holiday in Liberia

Holidays are low key on board - at least the American holidays. In the year that I have been in Liberia the crew from the USA have only celebrated two holidays Thanksgiving and the 4th of July. For Thanksgiving I baked apple and pumpkin pies and we sat around saying what we were grateful for. And for the 4th of July we ate our dinner on the dock and people brought dessert.

The best part was that we were able to take a photo of the American crew for the first time on the Africa Mercy (thanks Michal who took pictures that evening). Many national offices (the Netherlands, Canada, South Africa) have already asked for country specific photos but since the US office is also the International Operations Center they do not focus specifically on the American crew members and, unfortunately, we sometimes fall through the cracks.

So I arranged for a crew photo and while all 110 American crew members could not attend it was still to big of a group to fit anywhere besides the dock. We had fun and by the end of the evening a lot of the families and crew from every nation had joined on the dock.

I decided to model the desserts: the cake I am holding was pink yellow and green
(Vandi made a good attempt at red, white and blue).

Karen and Keyara draped in the flag; one day soon little Keyara
will make her debut in the States!

One of the many crew kids sporting her painted cheeks.

The sun finally peeked through the clouds right before sunset

Proud to be an American?

Two weeks ago Friday we celebrated the Independence Day holiday here in Liberia. It was a quiet and pretty low key holiday celebration because, simply put, it is hard to be proud to be American when you live overseas. There is a lot, I mean A LOT, of hostility towards the United States and a lot of negative attitudes reflected at Americans. So living in this international community is not always warm and fuzzy when you are being verbally attacked because of the passport you carry.

Most people can be cool about their political attitudes and thoughts. They will let you know what they think about the president, the economy, and international policies. But they will do it respectfully and limit the verbal bashing. Then there is the other group. I am amazed at what people will say. And the sad thing is that their opinions usually reflect their own ignorance more often than it makes a point.

I have heard a number of anti-American thoughts and can actually understand some of the points. One of the big arguments against Americans is that we are not culturally diverse. Now I can hear the arguments already as you scream that we are a melting pot. Well, let's be honest, if America is a melting pot than the fire is not hot enough to melt the contents. We may live in culturally diverse cities but the average group will socialize with people of their own background. Coming from South Florida I have seen this my entire life. At school every group could be labeled by their race: the Haitians, the Cubans, the Jamaicans, the Puerto Ricans, etc. I know this because I did not fall into any of the groups and was always harassed for hanging out with white people. But as an American who likes cultural diversity, enjoys traveling and living overseas and has a number of international friends I am always insulted when people say I am not diverse. Stop yelling at the choir!

Another argument that we hear a lot here is that Americans do not care about other countries and do not travel a lot. These are arguments that are based in facts, only 1 out of every 5 Americans owns a passport and our foreign policy usually sucks. But during a recent discussion on this subject I tried to explain to a few of my European and South African crew members why this also makes sense. In Europe because of location and closeness many countries are dependent on their neighbors and can quickly feel negative and positive influences. Being on the other side of the pond and only connected to Canada and Mexico the United States is very independent in comparison to the interdependent European Union. I also explained that for a lot of people it makes sense that they do not travel outside of the US. Our country is huge! There are 50 states and some are larger individually than a number of combined countries. At home if I drive an hour I can get from Fort Lauderdale to Miami. In Europe I can cross the border and be in a new country. My five to six hour drive from university to my parent's house would let me either drive across two or three countries or drive around one country a couple of times. I then reminded my fellow crew members that I could enjoy the beach, mountains, deserts, swamps, glaciers, big cities, small towns, metropolises and rural farm towns all within the borders of my own country, sometimes within the same state. How many European countries can boast this type of tourist attractions? So why would someone travel outside of their country, away from the comforts of home, the known language, the cultural rules, and the extra expenses when they could stay within their known borders? I really do not know.

What I do know is that there are 110 Americans on board. We represent a number of states, a number of races and backgrounds. We are very different in some ways. There are some people who remind me of family or friends and some people who embarrass me. But I know that these 110 people are different from most anti-American stereotypes and do not deserve to be harassed or disrespected by anyone. We have left our homes and crossed the pond. We live in an extremely international community and care about people from different countries. So hopefully my fellow crew members will realize that while they are free to have their opinions on America and her policies, these do not necessarily reflect the views, attitudes, or behaviors of the American crew who serve with them. I know that they do not always represent me.

Gone

So yesterday's ward visit had a bitter sweet moment at the beginning. I walked into B ward with my usually singing and greetings (I love trying to imitate the ladies Liberian English while singing some Liberian/ West African worship songs) only to realize that my ward was way to quiet. So as I looked at the beds I realized it was quieter for two reasons: 1. there were no children in the ward and 2. three beds were empty!

I was so upset and asked the mamas where was Felicia with Moses and James and Abraham with Darling Boy. And they informed me they were gone! I was hoping that they meant they had been moved, although I already knew the answer, and the informed me that they had been discharged that day. I truly was upset. These were two amazing families and the kids were just lovely. And I hadn't said goodbye or anything! Darling Boy was one of the old familiar faces since he was there much longer than the average patient. And Felicia's twins were just lovely and so adorable. And I could not believe some of my favorite kids were gone. I was not ready for them to go.

But then I realized how selfish I was sounding in my own head. These were patients not my personal after work toys. They were here for a purpose and were successful enough that they could be discharged. So I had to suck it up! Which is funny because the mamas were comforting me about being sad. So we rejoiced together that they were able to go home. Joanna informed me that she would be leaving on Monday, which means her daughter Angela will be going as well. I was not happy about this until she made me laugh by reminding me that we all must go home eventually. And I am happy that she will be able to return and use her once burned and contracted limbs more flexibly. And Felicia's twin boys are healthy and happy again. And Darling Boy is able to run and jump just like any other 8 year old.

I still needed to hunt down my kids and take in a good game or two. This was easily remedied by looking on A ward and we were able to rejoice together that a few people had gone home and they too would be going soon!

No Translation Needed

There is a new mama on my favorite ward (B Ward) named Felicia. She has twin boys (my favorite) named James and Moses. These darling 21 month old babies are quite the handful! I spent this Saturday on the ward and was able to get to know Felicia a little. In the afternoon the nurses took most of the patients up to Deck 7 for some fresh air but because of Moses' medical equipment they had to stay inside.

I decided to remain behind for a little bit and was able to talk to Felicia. She told me about the boys father and how he left after she became pregnant. There was so much hurt in her voice as she spoke of him. She still saw him and his sister even visited her their first night on the ship. Then she spoke about how she was so worried once they both became sick because she had no idea how she would pay for the medical care. Felicia had already spent a few hundred dollars at JFK Hospital on the boys and knew they would have to suffer awhile before she saved up enough.

I could barely translate her Liberian English. She spoke so quickly and there was so much emotion in her voice. This was a lady who was hurt, had suffered so much and worried for awhile about her boys. And although our lives have differed in so many ways I could translate this. I am sure there was a bit of the story lost in translation. But the raw human side was so easy to hear and feel. Felicia is a lovely woman, a wonderful mother and so amazing. I love being able to sit with her and the boys and am happy they are both recovering so well. It really is such a gift to be able to share these moments.

Unexpected Sass

There is a patient on the Ward that I have taken to visiting. Her name is Bendu and she is also 24. she is a patient that I have seen for awhile, while each of my Adopt-A-Patients have come and gone.

Sidebar: My patients keep getting sent home. I must have some sort of undiagnosed healing power because after one visit most of my patients are ready for discharge. While visiting Alfred, a 3 month old cleft lip patient from Sierra Leone, I met David, a six year old maxillofacial patient who was just admitted that night. The next day I was told that Alfred had been sent home so I went and signed up for David. He had surgery that day and they decided he could be an outpatient case. So he was gone before I saw him again. But since I was already on the Ward I figured I should still play with someone. So I hung out with Yei a beautiful 17 year old girl. The next day I adopted Yei as my patient and spent the evening with her. But she was sent home after a few days - leaving me alone again.

Bendu is a "long term" patient on the Ward, meaning unlike our 2-5 days patients she will be there for awhile. So I've taken to going down to the Ward to see her and a few other longer termed patients like Joanna. These ladies are so much fun and there is always something new to discuss. Recently Bendu and I have taken up playing Uno together. She is extremely competitive and talks trash like a professional! So every evening I'm down there we play 3 or 4 games and she keeps track of who is winning. Well last night we could not find the Uno cards. Her exact words (translated from Liberian English) were "someone from A-Ward took them during the day and did not return them! I'm going to find them!". Then she stormed off out of B-Ward only to decide at the door that I needed to come with her. So she turned around, grabbed my arm, and proceeded to half-drag me to the next Ward. There she interrogated every patient looking for who had the cards. After I told her she needed to be nicer she told me to go wait for her on her bed!

After completing her unsuccessful interrogation she returned highly upset. I tried to tell her that we could just hang out but she wanted to win. Being around Bendu is always fun but is also a little difficult. She is a lot of fun and full of unexpected sass (seriously, if I call someone sassy you know they are). But it is also very hard to look at her and watch her function with her limited mobility. While reading over firelight Bendu burnt her head, entire face, and down the right side of her body including her arm, hand and fingers. Her heard is completely wrapped in gauze to protect her recent skin graphs. These will allow her to blink her eyelids - right now one eye lid is almost completely sealed shut while the right eye is open enough for her to make her way around.

Bendu has spirit! She is feisty and fierce, smart and sassy, lovely and full of personality. But looking at Bendu is often hard because her scars and burns are extreme and very grotesque. I continually have to remind myself that she is still there - that the exterior is damaged but she is still Bendu within. And I need to suck it up because she has to live everyday like this. The good thing is she is definitely living and full of life.

I want to leave you with the soft side of Bendu to counter the sass: she did eventually calm down and was distracted by the movie playing: Mary Poppins. We watched Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke dance to the chimney sweeper rooftop number "Step In Time". And in an instant she was transformed to a kid watching a movie. She ooh-ed and aah-ed at the dance sequence and I had to hold back laughing as she got more and more into the dancing. I asked her if she'd seen the movie before, because she was so impressed with it, and she said yes. This made me watch her watching Mary Poppins. She is amazing to watch - even when sassy!

Seniority's Price Tag

Last week my roommate left. So for the first time since my first three days on the ship I was able to sleep in the bottom bunk. Since I am in the back cubicle of our six-birth I do have a bit more moving space (think 2 feet) than the front two cubicles. This space is precious and no joke when this narrow, windowless cubicle is your entire living space for a year. So it was with pleasure that I claimed the bottom bunk and the entire back cubicle for myself! After checking the housing spreadsheet I realized that my six-birth would at most have five people allowing me to keep this space to myself (currently there are three of us with a fourth coming in next week).

Before leaving my roommate Elizabeth asked how I would pull off keeping the back space to myself. I reassured her that I could and I would. But then as my date of staking my claim came closer I realized that having a strategy and argument in my favor was not a bad idea. Luckily, I needed neither and my roommates have graciously allowed me the space without a second thought. But my argument was going to be seniority. After 11 months, of sharing this space, and sleeping on the top bunk I felt this was an earned reward. And the two other ladies have only been here for a month they would probably have had very little room for arguing.

Yesterday I was re-evaluating my argument and realized that I own Deck 3! I have been on this deck the longest out of everyone now that Elizabeth is gone and have at least 3 months on the next person. So I have named myself the Queen of Deck 3 but have also realized that owning your own kingdom does bring responsibilities. I ran this thought past Mary Lou, the official ship grandma and most amazing left over hippie I know, and she agreed. She mentioned that she had to speak to one of the young ladies at the beach this past weekend who had a non-MSA (Mercy ship Approved) bathing suit on. I caught myself the other day almost speaking to a young lady who works in the Dining Room who was suspected of wearing Ward scrubs as casual clothing (she was cleared of these charges after we learned that she was volunteering with the Eye Team for a few days).

It is weird to have leadership thrust upon you. I often get it because I have a bit of a strong personality and have always been a natural leader. It is even weirder earning the responsibility and undesired responsibility by default. Having to set the example or enforce the rules simply because you have served the longest is not easy and not always fun. Even people who like leadership do not always enjoy when they have to use their authority in a negative way (besides Donald trump very few bosses enjoy firing people). A few weeks ago I had to go enforce the dress code to one young lady (these new girls seem to insist on breaking, bending and altering the rules - young whipper snappers). Our skirts and shorts are suppose to cover our knees, even when sitting, and she was wearing a skirt that did not cover her knees while standing. I was going to let this slide since it was not blatantly short. But then she sat on one of the couches and proceeded to bend her legs under her! What was happening in her head I am not sure. But this forced my hand and I had to tell her about her skirt and how to sit like a lady in one. I felt like my mom (love you mom). It was awkward. I guess that awkward, weird, undesired feeling and the need to enforce the rules is the price of seniority.

Sacrifice

Yesterday, at our community meeting, we had a local Liberian pastor as a guest speaker. He spoke on God's grace but there was one part of his talk that I have thought about all day. He mentioned how he was separated from his family during the civil war and at one point fled to Nigeria on a gun boat. He said he would go into the bush and cry from missing them, but would have to wipe off his face and put on a fake smile as he walked down the street. He then compared this feeling of separation and loneliness to our sacrifice in coming to Liberia. He said that he knew how we felt because we were far from loved ones and must get lonely too as we have to deal with this consequence of our sacrifice.

As he complemented us I wanted to laugh (not to be rude but out of shock). Yes, it is a big sacrifice being away from our family and friends and living here. It is very lonely at times and sometimes very hard. There are times when I cry or feel depressed as I remember all that I had or realize all that I am missing. But I would NEVER compare this to Rev. Jerry's experience! He was hiding from rebel troops and was separated from his family because of a 14 year war. He fled to another country out of a need for survival, not to do humanitarian work and bring social justice. I just thought it was amazing and unjust for him to think of these sacrifices and the sorrow that was caused as equal.

But his feelings are very similar to what we often get here. People are amazed that we would give of our time and resources in such a way for them. They see our sacrifices as huge when I just see it as what is expected. To change the world sacrifices will be required. Great sacrifices. This type of call will never be easy and it will never be without some type of sacrifice. Loving and caring for others, wanting a better world for all, forcing change has always required some sacrifice and has always had its share of sorrow. This has been since the beginning of the world and will be the norm long after we have passed on. People have always sacrificed in order to bring change.

There are some things that I know I have sacrificed to be here. And there are some sacrifices that I may not know about now or in the future. And there will be future sacrifice, both big and small, that I will make as I continue to serve. I guess I will have to remain honored, bewildered, and humbled as this lovely man compares his our sacrifices to mine. Hopefully I will always do the comparison justice.

How To Change The World

Life can be overwhelming. Looking around and seeing a need bigger than yourself can be discouraging. Poverty, destruction, hunger, war, death, hurt are everywhere. If you look at the news for a minute you’ll know this. If you think you can take it all, do it all, fix it all by yourself you are in for a big failure. And if you think it would be better to turn away, ignore it all, pretend it is not there you are probably failing too.

In today’s world everything is big: think big, buy big, build big, but the key to changing the world we live in is small. Help one another, love one another. Change one person's life, even in a small way, and you change their future and their world. Then hopefully they can go and change someone else’s world. Because if we try to do it all we will burn out quickly. And if we try to ignore it we actually add fuel to the destruction.

So go change someone’s world - today. Stop thinking about getting involved and do something. Go serve at the local shelter, invite someone new to your home, simply look outside of your world and you will find something you can do to change it. There are probably a few hundred volunteer programs in your community if you just ask.

Here are a few ideas:

• volunteer with an established organization*: Big Brother/ Big Sister, YMCA


• visit a local hospital, nursing home, or neighbor (a smile and hello goes a long way)


• serve at a homeless shelter, food bank program, after school program, disciple a young person


• clean up your neighborhood, local park, street corner

We often have a Superman mentality when we think about changing the world: if it is small and not world changing it does not count, so I will remain paralyzed by the overwhelming task and my inability to put a dent in it. I am not saying go cure AIDS, though it would be nice to share this cure if you happen to know it. And I am not saying do not go solve the AIDS epidemic because one day, hopefully, someone will be able to attack a giant of this magnitude. I am simply saying stop talking about doing something good. Either do it or be quiet. I know this may seem harsh but it is not. Because if you are going to start doing instead of just saying then I am happy to give that little push. And if you are full of hot air and good ideas but don't plan on getting off of the couch then I do not want to hear about it - it would just make me crazy.

* For myself, I have been investigating volunteer options with the Red Cross for when I return home.

QUOTE: Jim Elliot

"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."

Philip James Elliot (08 October 1927 - 08 January 1956) was an Christian missionary to Ecuador who, along with four others, was killed while attempting to reach the Waodani people.

Shaylhonest

So I have had a number of people comment on the fact that I have not written anything in a few weeks, which is unacceptable. The truth is I have written plenty...I just have not POSTED anything. I have about 5 drafts written but do not feel it would be wise to post these until they have been read, re-read and edited for pessimism and cynicism.

The reality is that I have felt very pessimistic recently. It has been hard to remain happy as another turnover occurs and so many people I have spent time with and care about are leaving. The hardest part is that a lot of these people were serving before me so they helped make the ship feel like home and now I do not know what it is suppose to be. I went walking on the dock last night by myself. Not because I wanted to walk alone, clear my head, but because I had no one to walk with. I walked up and down the dock past couples enjoying the sunset, the families enjoying their after dinner ritual, and all of the evening joggers. And I felt alone for one of the first times in a few months. Yes, I could have joined a family or walked with a couple or interrupted a private conversation but I really did not want to. I wanted someone to walk with. And it made me realize how many friends I have made, who have now departed, and appreciate the time we spent together. There are still a few stragglers who have not departed - and they make me laugh. The good thing is I know there are a few people I will see again.

The other reality is that my time will also be ending sooner rather than later. There is something about the end of a chapter that makes one reflect. I have begun processing what I have experienced, what I have learned and what is still as gray and confusing as when I arrived. This also includes reflecting on what Mercy Ships is - what it really is and not what is publicized (this is where the cynicism comes in). If you think living in a community, with a bunch of Christians, while serving in Africa is a cake walk you have NO idea. Yes, there are times when it is wonderful, but that is more about the individual people that I am making memories with rather than the community or organization that we are a part of.

I will touch on this in a future edited but still honest blog. A phrase this one former crew member Chad coined was "there's honest and then there is Shaylhonest".

Night Prowlers

There is a very heart breaking reality that hundreds of women live every night – prostitution. These “street walkers” live a life that I can barely understand and could never imagine. Unlike the prostitutes reflected in movies, many of these women are not on drugs but are just trying to earn money for food in one of the only jobs available to them. And unlike the character Julie Roberts played in Pretty Woman these women will not get swept off their feet by a rich guy who wants to offer them a better life.

Last night we went out to eat at the Bamboo Bar. The restaurant was pretty empty – my party of five and three NGO (non-governmental organization) guys having a working dinner two tables over. Then two Liberian ladies walked in and sat down next to the UN table. I watched as they ordered beers but did not drink a sip. After an hour of sitting, facing the UN guys, they finally seemed to realize that the guys were not interested. By this point my friend Sarah asked if I thought they were prostitutes. Normally I would not judge a table of ladies out for the evening in this manor. But after two years in Africa I can spot the signs: going to casual places like a restaurant dressed for a night out on the town, ordering drinks because they are the cheapest item on the menu but not drinking them, and continually looking at the prospective clients to try and catch their attention.

Eventually, after more than an hour, the ladies decided to move on to another table. By now another group of guys had come into the restaurant so they picked up their belongings and beer and walked to the opposite side of our group to sit next to these new guys. We left before them so I do not know if they were successful. But it broke my heart sitting their and watching these ladies do everything reasonably acceptable to catch the attention of these guys. What’s even sadder is that it is a common and accepted reality.

I was told that a popular beach-side restaurant exclusively hires prostitutes as waitresses because of the number of NGO men who frequent that beach and restaurant. And I have been personally approached on a number of occasions by ladies in the business and men looking for ladies in the business.

There is one local hang out in particular that I have had this happen so often that I have refused to go there since October. Below are two of my experiences:

One night a few of us wanted to go out so after trying to get a group together it ended up being four guys and myself. I did not mind since I was comfortable with all of the guys so off we went. After being there for only a few minutes I noticed a number of ladies eyeing the guys in my group, but none of them made a move until we got up to leave. This one group of three ladies walked right up to me and asked if they could join me since I “would not be able to handle all of the guys myself”. They told me to “share with them and introduce them to my dates”. After explaining to them that I was not sleeping with these men and was not a prostitute they went directly to the guys and began catcalling offers and enticing lines. This made all of the guys extremely uncomfortable and we made our way to the taxi as the guys used me as a shield between themselves and the women. This only infuriated them more as they called me selfish and other words not worth repeating.

The other event I will mention is an example of what I have sadly experienced more times than I care to count. On Friday and Saturday nights there is a live band that plays amazing music at this same location. After dancing to a number of songs I headed back to our tables only to be grabbed on my upper arm by a very large, very drunk white man. *I only mention his race because this is one of the well known facts in Liberia – the prostitutes are not supported by the locals but by the white men who come to work in various organizations (in particular the UN).* He proceeded to ask me “how much a night would be?” and even complemented me by saying I was a pretty girl. After quickly snatching my arm back I proceeded to tell him that I was not a prostitute and that he should be ashamed of himself for exploiting such a sad and unsafe activity. I think he was too drunk to listen or remember but I did. The first time this happened I cried. I was appalled that they would mistake me as one of “them”. Eventually I realized that to them I am a black girl surrounded by a group of white people and this conclusion was their most logical thought...

And sadly it is a stereotype that is justly based and not normally incorrect.

The Countdown Begins?

Today is a big day. It's the 21st of May. And that means I leave Liberia in exactly 2 months (though I will not be home for almost another 4 months...more on that later). I'm not quite sure at this point how I feel. I have all of the initial feelings bouncing around that range from extremely excited to slightly depressed. There is so much that comes with having The Date. To put the final seal on the drama and significance of today, I received a package from my travel agent (hi Bob) that contained my airline tickets. No changing my mind...no looking back.

I am excited to leave for many reasons: I am eager to see my family, friends and church members and really want to meet my niece. Being in a foreign culture can wear on you and a break from foreign back to familiar is always nice - it is surprisingly refreshing. I am eager to start a new adventure (more details to follow I am sure).

I am also sad for many reasons: I have made some friendships here that have changed my views on myself and how I interact with others. I am comfortable here and going into the unfamiliar is always a challenge (even if it is good unfamiliar it still requires change). I am returning home and that also involves facing a lot of unknowns (future plans) and changes (people and relationships do not pause).

Someone asked me yesterday if I have started the countdown to my departure date. I have decided now would be way to early...it would make things harder if anything. Because I would begin to want to be gone instead of living in the here and now. It would be like the "senioritis" that a lot of students get at the end of their senior year - you start to check out mentally. And I want to finish strong and that requires being checked in mentally. So while I make plans for my departure I will resist the urge to check out, plan too far in advance, or get excited with the energy that a countdown produces.

A Movie Worth Watching

*I sent this out as an e-mail originally:

There is a documentary being shown TODAY, 13 May called "A Walk to Beautiful". I know this is very late notice. Sorry, but I was up country all weekend and only found out it was being shown this morning.

It is an excellent movie that tells the stories of five Ethiopian women who suffer from obstetric fistula (a childbirth complication that causes chronic incontinence) and follows their journeys to a hospital that provides fistula surgery. This is the condition that I wrote about in my last newsletter, which is also known as Vesicovaginal fistula.

I have been told it is airing tonight at 8 pm on the PBS/ NOVA stations (in Gainesville Ch 5 and Ft Lauderdale Ch 2). It is also showing later in the week, so if you can not watch it tonight I would recommend that you try to see it later, record it, TIVO it, whatever! It really is a beautifully done film and took over 2 years to shoot in Ethiopia. One of the doctors who performs these surgeries on the ship also works at this hospital and he is the one who let us see a copy on board.

http://www.walktobeautiful.com/

International Diversity

This weekend I attended a baby shower on board. It was for the Koontz family who are expecting their fourth child in August. They are also my adoptive family (long story short, I adopted myself into their family). In many ways it was like any other baby shower: ladies, food, and lots of pink and blue balloons. The neat part of the entire shower was how many countries were represented at the shower. There were at least nine that I counted: the United States, Canada, Brazil, England, Germany, the Netherlands, Sweden, Ghana and South Africa.

And I realized how international so much of our life is simply because of the people within our community. I had "Happy Birthday" sung to me in 8 different languages on my birthday. At first it was just a nice way to let crew members express themselves in the native language. But then it became an adventure to see how many different languages I could hear in one day. So my birthday was celebrated in English, Afrikaans, Dutch, Danish, Spanish, Norwegian, Faroese, and Filipino.

Another time our international diversity is visible is at Academy events. There are about 50 children on board and it is always amazing to see how culturally diverse these children are. My bunk mate Elizabeth, who is currently the preschool teacher and will serve as the first grade teacher next year, realized that her class of four students will be from four different countries next year. What makes this special, and also a bit difficult, is that English is not the first language for many of the kids or their parents.

Patience and understanding are required ingredients in our international community!

To Each Their Own Perspective

During the last outreach a satellite system was installed on the ship that allows the ship to receive a few television shows. One that has been very popular with the crew is the Animal Planet. Today I ate lunch in the midship's lounge, instead of the dining room, and one of the kids was watching a program on endangered gorillas in Africa. It followed Natalie Portman (an American actress) through the Republic of the Congo and Rwanda as she visited different rescue projects and narrated the show.

It was beautiful. The countryside and all of the forest were lush and green and the gorillas were strong and beautiful. The show was very heartfelt and Natalie was an excellent narrator. But the entire time I watched it I kept thinking am I crazy? Is she talking about gorillas or humans? Is this heart wrenching story of sadness and survival about poor African people trying to survive in a developing country or about some animals living in the jungles of Africa? Now I am a huge animal lover and am in no way promoting an attitude that animals do not need to be cared for and protected. But the entire time I watched the show I thought how much better this world might be if people would put this type of money and time into promoting injustices happening to humans around the world. She spoke about "how beautiful the animals were and how tragic their lives were". That they were "hunted and often the parents died leaving orphans behind". They even gave facts: in 2007, four gorilla babies were orphaned and had to be rehabilitated in the Republic of the Congo.

I don't know. Maybe I am comparing apples to oranges. Maybe it is all fruit and depending on your perspective it is all injustice that shows how damaged our world is. I just know that there are hundreds of human children being orphaned everyday around the world because of civil unrest, war, AIDS, starvation, preventable diseases, and unclean water. I know that they are beautiful and have horrific stories to tell. What I don't know is how I am going to end this blog entry. This really is one of the many thoughts racing through my head that I am not sure I will ever have answers for. Because it does depend on perspective. I feel a bit awkward ending this blog with my rant...

Well in other news, my lovely friend Nadine here has added her opinion on life, and she says,
"God is good. All the time."

Love you. Miss you. And thank you. I hope my rant gives you something to think about.

April Showers

As the rainy season looms ahead many "old" crew members have begun to prepare by either reflecting on what they hate about rainy season or by doing everything they can to deny it is on its way. All of the new kids on the block (those who have never experienced a true rainy season) have no idea what they are about to experience. How do you tell 70% of the crew that it will rain all day and all night and expect them to believe you? No one is prepared to believe that 3 weeks will pass and they will never see the sun. Even if you could really imagine the depressive-ness of the weather you would want to deny it at all cost.

So there are a lot of us weather veterans who are spending as much time outdoors as possible and mentally preparing for the lack of sunshine and the cabin fever that is soon approaching. This past week has been a very sudden reminder that the summer aka rainy season is near. The change in the weather has been very visible. While it is still as hot as Hades outside and the humidity is bouncy between 80 and 90 percent, the evening weather has changed dramatically. We have had a few nights when it has been pouring down rain and the sun is beginning to set earlier. Soon these evening showers will cease to stop and will run into the morning. And then that one full day will become two. And eventually it will be raining for weeks and the crew will start bouncing off of the walls with bordum. And the roads will start to wash away and the beach sand will erode.

Yet for now it is still sunny and from our dock we can still view downtown Monrovia (in full rainy season you can not see any buildings or lights from across the harbour). It seems the rain, rain has gone away for a few more weeks!

What time is it?

A few nights ago I had a very unexpected wake up call. At 04:15 a soft alarm started beeping. My bunk mate and I can recognize each others alarms: Elizabeth's alarm is a loud beep-pause sequence that increases with time, like a bomb. My alarm is quiet with a steady beep; I keep it under my pillow which muffles the sound. So suddenly there is a third unknown beeping that is coming from within our room.

Since I am the lightest sleeper in the world I am up and fumbling under my pillow thinking it is my alarm. When smashing the snooze button does not shut off the sound I finally turn on my bunk light to investigate. This movement and the continual beeping finally wakes up Elizabeth, who then jumps out of bed and dives at our table. She turns off the third mystery alarm and heads to the bathroom. So I'm all confused and asking what time is it? I then hear my roommie getting back in bed. After looking at my own alarm for the time I then attempt to go back to sleep. This of course does not work so I'm up for an extra two hours trying to figure out why my roommate set an alarm to go the bathroom!

I bumped into her the next day to find out what the deal was and if 04:15 would be our regular morning wake up time. Turns out it was her watch alarm. Apparently her nursery kids were playing with her watch and set the alarm, which she forgot to turn off. Living in community can be so much fun...especially at 4 in the morning!

Field trip to the USS Fort McHenry

This weekend we were invited to tour the USS Fort McHenry that has been outside of the Monrovia harbour for two weeks. This working US Navy ship is one of four Navy ships that has been participating in the Africa Partnership Station. These ships have been traveling for the past 7 months throughout West Africa providing training and teaching sessions, along with the Coast Guard and Marines.

Our rusted neighbor in port. We can actually see that it has risen
since last year as they continue to try and pump water out of the hull.

The new pilot boat that was donated to the Monrovia Port Authority.

Another look at home sweet home from the neighboring dock.

The landing craft that took us out to Fort McHenry.

The USS Fort McHenry a few miles outside of the harbor.

We stopped complaining about our halls and stairs after seeing their cabins. Our ship
looks like a floating hotel compared to these tight quarters.

The US and Liberian flags

Being away is...

We have an acronym commonly used on board: LBH which stands for let’s be honest. It is a small way of pushing everyone into saying what they are honestly feeling or, more commonly, used to prepare people that what you are about to say might be more honest than they are prepared for.

LBH: It is hard being here. So hard at times. This weekend one of my oldest friends is getting married and although we have grown apart over the years I never imagined missing her wedding. We use to talk about it and make all the little girl dreams of that special day and now that it is actually happening I am thousands of miles away. Being away is hard and frustrating.

I’ll be frustrated all this week while I wait for someone to remember me and email over some pictures. The pictures will be bad, maybe out of focus, and will hardly capture the beauty of her wedding. But I will be appreciative because what other option do I have? Being away is hard, frustrating and weird.

It’s weird being so far away from everyone that you know and love. How do you return to a life you do not know, to people you do not know? In the two years that I have lived in Africa I have missed eight weddings, six births, and three funerals. Unlike most people it is as if I live two lives, one in America and one in Africa. And it seems harder to jump back into my at home life and try to catch up. It would be easier if I could put everyone on pause! Being away is hard, frustrating, weird and scary.

Missing so many huge life moments makes the idea of going home even scarier. I am now at the point when I need to start thinking about what I will do next and that is scary. Because I have no solid idea and way too many options it seems. Staying here is my heart’s desire but will make my eventual return home even harder. Staying in the States will be a difficult adjustment and will involve a lot of changes since I will have to live with the consequences of missing two years of everyone’s life. Being away is hard, frustrating, weird, scary, and I have no idea what the future holds. Let’s be honest.

There She Blows! (Whale of a Tale Part 2 )

So guess what I did? I experienced my first (and most likely last) Faroese meal. I was sitting in the dining room during dinner and Debbie came over to say that they were going to be eating in their cabin in a few and it would be a traditional meal. So I raced up to their cabin to watch the preparation.

Let me start by explaining where the Faroe Islands are for my less adventurous readers. The Faroe Islands are an island group consisting of eighteen islands off the coast of Northern Europe, between the Norwegian Sea and the North Atlantic Ocean, about halfway between Iceland and Norway; the closest neighbors being the Northern and Western Isles of Scotland. Because of their location and agrarian culture most Faroese meals consist of fish, mutton (sheep), whale and potatoes, with very little vegetables. So for dinner the Joensens were having dried whale meat, whale fat or blubber, potatoes and dried fish. Jonhard explained to me that the only whale eaten is the pilot whale and that it is not hunted Moby Dick style. Since the villages are so small an entire whale is shared among the community. When a whale beaches itself trained people are called to kill the whale. They use a long wooden spike and drive it into the whale’s head. This is something that requires training and precision since they want to kill the whale quickly but also have as much whale to eat as possible. Then the whale is divided: a section goes to the village like a tax and the rest is shared among the people.

I will try to explain what everything looked like. If you are of Faroese decent and reading this please do not take offence by my outsiders opinion. Let’s start with the smell since it was the first thing I noticed. It smelled like fish. This made sense since whales swim in the ocean, but was odd because whales are mammals. The dried whale meat was very dark in colour and reminded me of venison. Jonhard was cutting the fat/ blubber into bit sized cubes. It was a light shade of pink and I think I expected it to look more like chicken fat – yellow and lumpy. But it was a solid block of light pink blubber and was at least 4 inches thick. Jonhard showed me how to prepare the blubber. Both ends are cut off first: the skin which was a dingy gray and the meat. Then the cube of fat is sliced and cut into little squares. The dried fish was laid out on a plate along with the already prepared potatoes.

Since I could only stay for this part, and had already told Debbie I wouldn’t be able to stomach the blubber, Stefan, their son, offered me a piece of dried whale meat. The taste was interesting, a combination of chewy, fishy and salty. And it was extremely nauseating. I could not believe the weird combo happening in my mouth and was petrified that I might throw up in their cabin. Luckily Debbie offered me a piece of potato, which I highly recommend if you ever decide to try dried whale meat. It has such a strong taste and is very salted that I could barely handle chewing it. The potato helped eliminate the desire to be sick but it did not remove the overwhelming fish taste (a piece of chocolate helped with that once I was in my cabin). All in all, it was an experience and a fun cultural adventure. I was able to eat half of a Faroese specialty called Grind og spik which is pilot whale meat and blubber. Yummy!