I haven’t been sure how or when to write about the last week. Every
day has been a different emotion.
For the last several weeks there has been discussion of kidnapping and
security at our meetings. Should we go or stay. I was becoming numb to
the conversations and then a kidnapping two hours from our location
happened combined with a visit from what they call a Super Log. He is
from Paris and well trained in security measures. He returned to the
Capital to discuss our situation and then the Cameroon kidnapping
happened. I knew then that we would likely be sent home, but was still
not prepared. Our acting FieldCo, as the actual FieldCo was just
returning from R&R and had decided to stay in the Capital, called a
5:00 p.m. meeting with the drivers for what I assumed was a briefing
of our security situation. Instead, it was an announcement the expats
were leaving at 6:00 a.m. the following morning and two would remain.
A palpable quiet came over the room. I looked around and saw tears in
several of the men’s eyes while at the same time feeling myself
flooding with emotion. More emotion than I expected for something I
knew was coming. The following 12 hours no longer even seem real. We
were sent a list from Coordination about what each of us needed to do.
Being the admin I got the lucky job of burning four years of paper and
packing all personnel and tax records. I kept calling Coordination to
confirm that burning so many records was really what they wanted me to
do. I was in a state of disbelief watching so much history go up in
flames. My heart was heavy. Every time I passed a watchman or a
driver, I started to cry. It didn’t help they were also crying. It is
a hard way to leave a mission. Part of my sadness was leaving people I
was just getting to know, and leaving a project that was doing so much
good and bringing hope into people’s lives. I felt like we were
abandoning a group of people who relied on us in many ways and it felt
so irresponsible to leave in so fast and so early. However, MSF is
very clear that security is never debatable. It was hard to let go
that I had made plans to stay. I had settled in. My room was just how
I liked it and I had acquired some charcoal and local incense to mask
the bug and cleaning spray in my room.

We all worked on our various duties well into the early morning hour.
There is a lot to do to close down a project in 12 hours. I tried to
sleep around 3:30 a.m., but all I managed to do was look at the
ceiling until it was time to get up. We loaded the trucks at 5:30 a.m.
and shortly after 6:00 a.m. we said goodbye to the two expats who
remained along with a handful of the national staff. Fortunately, I
had the back of the truck to myself surrounded by what we were
instructed to bring with us from the project and our luggage. It gave
me time to cry, observe one of the most amazing sunrises, and reflect
on my brief two months. The calls started coming in around 9 a.m.
asking what happened and wanting to know if we were closing the
project. Each call ended with, “We miss you!”

There was only a small group of us who were evacuated as five had left
two days earlier as part of a reduction of team strategy. I am
thankful for the evacuation team – it was a solid group. We mobilized
and got the job done. Overall, we had a good group. There are
challenges living and working with the same group of people, but at
the same time it is a growing experience. There is one person who I
will probably remember the longest. Although, there were many things
at the time that annoyed me, most of the things do make a good story.
It is an MD from New Jersey who brought a 12 pound (maybe more) ham
from New Jersey to a Muslim country and talked about fixing it every
day for a week until we did! The day we planned to bake the ham he
was already asking me instructions before I had my morning tea. He
arrived with two very large suitcases filled with food and gifts. He
was one of the members who left early and was still in the Capital
when we arrived. And, of course, the first thing he asks me as I am
climbing out of the truck is about the damn ham! Did we eat it? Did we
bring it!? Oh for the Love of God! I hadn’t slept. I was emotionally
exhausted, but all I could do was laugh and say no, “your ham was the
last thing on my mind when I left.” He then asked two other members
of the team about the ham and a packet of smoked salmon.

I had initially had been told I would be leaving the day after we
arrived in the Capital, but fortunately our FieldCo put a stop to
that. She was right we needed to rest. It was good to reunite with the
team who had left earlier. It took a few days for the sadness to
dissipate so having time to share the stories and a chance to debrief
was exactly what was needed. Not to mention some time to blow off
steam, sleep, and laugh. I’ve been working since we arrived on helping
with a plan to keep the project running remotely. That has been
helpful in letting go that sense of abandonment I felt. We have been
saying goodbye to team members day by day. There are five of us left.
One will stay another two months and the rest of us leave this week.
I am ready to go. More than ready. Today is Monday and am no longer
getting called five times a day. I only received one call today from
the cook calling to say she missed me. It warmed my heart. Although,
she also wanted to know who had the March roster. She was another one
that could be a challenge at times. A strong personality who the week
before we left came into my office to tell me she could take leave
whenever she wanted and she was going home and had already called a
daily worker to cover her shift. So I got the fun job of telling the
daily worker to go home and to tell the cook that she was indeed
working. We then had to have conversation about who authorized what.
Again, in retrospect a funny moment. At the time, maddening.

There really is so much to say, but not sure what more at this time. I
will miss the people and the project. I hope it can be continued
remotely as the work is so important to those in the community. It has
been amazing first mission experience cut short by four months. I
regret not writing more as I had a long list of things to write about
before things so radically changed. Who knows maybe I still will. It
was a reminder as to why putting things off is not a good idea. I am
not sure what is next, but I suppose that will present itself in time.

Yesterday was grocery day. This was actually started about two weeks
ago so I don’t remember which yesterday I was writing about. The
FieldCo (team leader) went with me yesterday along with our national
staff Outreach Worker as they had a meeting with a local doctor about
HIV tests. It was an interesting meeting to sit in on as he shared
with us pictures of two of his surgeries. One was of a baby that had
grown into the woman’s bladder and another was of calcified baby that
a woman had carried within her for six years. I can’t say for sure,
but my guess these stories are not found in any medical journals. If
there were not pictures I would not believe it. This same day we
stopped by the office of Act for Hunger to say hello and stayed for
over an hour. What an interesting organization. I was impressed by
their approach to Nutrition training. Instead of hiring health workers
they spend time training people within the community such as hair
dressers. What an innovative approach and I think more likely to bring
about long lasting change than health workers not part of the
community would bring.

I have had a few questions about safety. Yes, I am safe or at least as
safe as anyone really is. I am not worried. The situation is closely
monitored and steps are being taken to secure our compound more than
it currently is. The region I am in is not touched (yet) by what is
taken place in other parts of the country. I find this interesting
and think maybe because it is the poorest area in this country.

Well, it’s Saturday night and my eyes are burning from looking at a
computer all day combined with the fact today the air is thick with
dust and smoke. The dust burns my nose and I am able to taste it in my
mouth. It so thick, it is possible to look directly at the sun. I
walked around the compound attempting to take a photo, but nothing
turned out.

Well, all for now, but will try again tomorrow.

Last post was bit somber but thanks to a dear friend who seeks to
explore life who reminded me sometimes you need to embrace the suck.
And, that is just it. In the big scheme of life this will be an
adventure and I will look back and remember the good and the growth,
but there are some days it does just suck and that is ok. It is part
of the ride and part of the journey.
Some days my head feels as if a knife is stuck in my eye and I crave
my soft expansive queen size bed and comfy pillows with my dog at my
feet. I am working on getting better at stay hydrated. And, some
mornings I miss a hot powerful shower. Instead I have a twin foam pad
with an indentation for my butt and cold showers with a bucket to wash
my hair. Although, it is starting to warm up so evening showers are
quite warm. There are evenings I long for the familiarity of close
friends. You know the one where conversation is easy and comfortable.
I could go on and sound like a whiner, but as a good friend reminded
some days it does just suck but that is part of the journey and my
lesson is embracing those days as part of the experience─part of the
practice. I don’t need to reframe it or lather on the guilt with
stories of how some have it worse because all of it is one big package
I will cherish when I can no longer live this lifestyle. Embracing the
suck is part of the growth. On the days it sucks I am not longing to
be elsewhere (for now) because for me to be elsewhere would be to in a
job that took everything I had just to show up every day and that is
no way to live. Of course, if I could make a wish Cody would be here.
The true test of my desire to stay came this week when there was
discussion about possibly having to go home because of what is taking
place in Mali & Algeria. My first thought, no, not ready yet. The
situation continues to be monitored, but for now we stay.
On the days I do feel down, I remind myself how amazing it is to meet
other independent spirits from all over the world who are here because
something deep in their soul calls to make a difference. So even on
the worst day I choose where I am now because WOW how amazing to wake
up in another country to the chanting of small children even if they
do sound like they are screaming and sipping morning tea in the dry
smoky dusty air listening to the birds chirp, watching small red birds
drink from the leaking water hose, and the dragon lizards scamper
about the courtyard. It’s as if one of them is communicating ok on the
count of three go then they all run like sprinters in opposite
directions then freeze flattening their bodies to the ground, their
chests heaving and heads bobbing. Some look as if they are in cobra
pose.

My work attire is comfy clothes with flip flops! Although the OT
Nurse and I had three skirts made so will be donning those soon. Loose
skirts will be perfect as daytime temperatures begin to rise to 100
degrees. Some of the expats complain endlessly about the food here,
but hey, someone else is cooking lunch and dinner and cleaning our
dishes. We get fresh baked bread daily; although, I have started
radically reducing my consumption of the bread and pasta. It is true
it is not exactly the healthiest as everything is fried in oil, but
I’m thankful after a long day I am not the one having to cook or even
worse having to decide what to eat among 12 expats.

As my friend reminded me it is ultimately about the starfish and
sometimes one of those starfish is you.

Starfish story -
Once upon a time, there was an old man who used to go to the ocean to
do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach every morning
before he began his work. Early one morning, he was walking along the
shore after a big storm had passed and found the vast beach littered
with starfish as far as the eye could see, stretching in both
directions.
Off in the distance, the old man noticed a small boy approaching. As
the boy walked, he paused every so often and as he grew closer, the
man could see that he was occasionally bending down to pick up an
object and throw it into the sea. The boy came closer still and the
man called out, ”Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are
doing?”
The young boy paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into
the ocean. The tide has washed them up onto the beach and they can’t
return to the sea by themselves,” the youth replied. “When the sun
gets high, they will die, unless I throw them back into the water.”
The old man replied, “But there must be tens of thousands of starfish
on this beach. I’m afraid you won’t really be able to make much of a
difference.”
The boy bent down, picked up yet another starfish and threw it as far
as he could into the ocean. Then he turned, smiled and said, “It made
a difference to that one!”

I wrote the below last night with the intent of editing this morning, but as I was at the end of my yoga sequence I hear the FieldCo calling my name outside my door. When I opened my door she was saying there is work to do in the office. I of course was puzzled as it is Sunday – our day of rest. It turns out the driver, Aminu, who was hospitalized for carbon monoxide poisoning died this morning. It was my job to prepare his settlement. I was flooded with a cold feeling. I didn’t know him well, but distinctly remember on day four me and the woman I was replacing greeted Aminu and climbed into the truck, me excited for my first venture grocery shopping and my replacement visibly tired. We stopped along the way to pick up what I learned was kose (which I’ve been addicted to since that day) from his friend and then departed for the hour drive to the market and grocery store listening to American 80’s rap music. Aminu was my driver the few times I’ve been to the hospital and to get my 20th passport photo. He often wore black driving gloves and gold rimmed glasses. It made me laugh a bit as it made me think of Chicago yet we were in tiny little Muslim town where the dust is so thick it resembles fog. The last time I saw him was last Sunday morning when he was in my office with puffy eyes and still crying. His grandmother had died and he needed a salary advance so he could return home. I felt so bad for him as his grief was palpable. I wasn’t sure what to do or say as in this part of the country a woman can’t shake a man’s hand much less hug him. All I could do was convey how sorry I was for his loss and let him know we were all thinking of him.

There is so much death here that seems senseless. Although, it is also the first time I have been around so much death. I respect and admire the clinical people who come to do this work. They see cases that maybe they have only read about in a book, but certainly never seen. The OBGYNS in the project are at the hospital close to 24/7. There is one MD that every time I see her I wonder who she is and then remember, right, one of the MDs. She makes an appearance around dinner time then goes back to the hospital. The women here are very sick and there is a 1 in 5 survival rate in the babies born. Many of the women arrive with the babies already dead in their womb. At some point I will write more of the project, but will save that for another time. A lot of the stories are not for the faint of heart and my own heart isn’t up for it today.

Written on Saturday
This has been a long and strange week. It feels as if two was in one. A national doctor was killed in a car accident. One of our drivers went home when he learned of the death of his grandmother only to end up in a coma from carbon monoxide poisoning. Why they put the generator in the house is the million dollar question. Fortunately, he came out of the coma on Friday and is oxygen. The Admin Assistant who reports to me got his key jammed in the safe on Monday so we were not able to pay salary advances on the 15th. For some reasons this really hit a stress button that in retrospect I am not sure why. Maybe it was something tangible to stress about it. I think I was looking for empathy – not sure. I think it was also my exhaustion settling in. I haven’t slept well this week. I’m tired – really tired. I’ve hit the one month mark and this is now the longest I’ve been away from my creature comforts. I need to find the balance of working and living in the same place. The days are long and the work week is six days. I am not used to that. The long week combined with living with the same group is a lot so I need to make an effort to decompress after the day. In addition, I’m grappling with what I call house arrest. We are not able to leave the house and if we want to go to the hospital we must go by car. Most frustrating as it is a short walk. I have strong freedom needs so I’m working to find that inner peace or subdue the restlessness and find a way to live in confinement working and living with the same group of people with essentially very little privacy.

I’ve now heard it said by many within MSF as people rotate through – there are some you will miss and some you are not sorry to see them go. The composition of people on the project are four long term people and the medical people come and go about every 4-6 weeks; a few exceptions with an OT nurse and Midwife manager staying through March and May, respectively. The woman I replaced told me the first few months are awkward. It is true; I arrived to a team that have their set norms, rules and rhythm. This will begin to shift on Monday. Three long termers leave Monday and it is time. They are tired. In my observation leaving is a combination of sadness, joy, and disappointment at not being able to accomplish what was set out to accomplish.

One of the new long terms arrivals works for Kaiser in California as a labor & delivery nurse. We’ve already shared a few rants about Kaiser. She has to go back for her break otherwise she loses her job. I don’t envy her as the clinical people tend to work seven days. She is going to need that break. We’ve already been described by the Log as being similar with our laid back west coast attitude. Apparently he hasn’t heard our rants. It made me laugh as I consider myself FAR from laid back. It’s probably because he heard us talking about all the herbs we brought with us. J

In my short time on the project, I have already sat in on three disciplinary meetings (part of my job). I walk away from these feeling disheartened as what I’ve witnessed thus far is lack of acceptance of the infraction. It is communicated back as the expat has the problem. Last night I was talking with one of the long-termers who said part of the culture is there is no need for self-improvement. Instead of hearing this feedback as useful and as a way to grow it is dismissed and met with defensiveness. Although, not radically dissimilar from my management experience in the states. I’ve also sat in on three interviews and it is interesting they are very quick to answer the what are your strengths question, but when asked the what area would you improve question, it is evaded and am told culturally that isn’t atypical. It is interesting given that most in the United States find it difficult to answer the strengths question and easy to answer the weakness or as now asked, areas for improvement.

Promise to write more about the project once I’ve had more time to spend at the hospital. I hope to by February.

Today I started my day with an hour long yoga routine, a short meditation, and listening to a Kirtan, Michael Franti, and Shakira (WAKA WAKA). What a great start to the day. I’m committed to conquering a hand stand by June. My arms and back are achy attempting to build strength. I really have no excuse not to practice as there are no other distractions. Next on the agenda was the movie, Iron Man with the LogCo. I will watch anything with Robert Downey Jr. especially as a super hero. It has been a much needed relaxing Sunday. This week was a bit stressful as it was the first week on my own and it was monthly closing for December. I had my week hand-off, it was time to GO. The Admin Assistant is a national staff person and he has only been on the job a month and two weeks on his own. It was a blind leading the blind week. The financial team from Coordination arrives Monday night, I can’t wait as I have many questions!! One of the challenges I am having is the many different languages, but more on that in another post.

I recently finished the book, The Blue Sweater. I highly recommend this book if solutions to poverty are of interest. I’ve started another book, but keep coming back to this book so decided to put into writing some of my thoughts spurred by a lengthy dinner conversation last night.

I still haven’t made it to the hospital to spend some significant time so my knowledge of the project is based on evening conversations. Last night there was a discussion of a woman and her family camped out on the grounds of the hospital. She did not make it to the hospital before giving birth to twins en route on a bus; therefore, she was not admitted. She arrived with her husband, two children of seven and nine and a 1 week old infant. The second infant did not survive. The tragedy in this is she has end stage breast cancer. She needs to go home to her village to die and make arrangements for her children. I won’t go into all the complexities and details of local health care that doesn’t have palliative and hospice programs as I probably know enough to be dangerous. The crux of the discussion was how to fund her trip home and at least provide pain management. The desire of most of us was to dip into our stipend to give her and her family money to get home to her village. Thus began a debate about being a humanitarian organization and the right thing to do vs. the woman is not our patient and discussing medical details that could make her our patient. I went to bed feeling a little queasy about the situation and troubled that no matter where you go the administration side of providing care to people surfaces. What appears to be a simple solution isn’t. This morning they were gone – they left during the night.

This brings me back to The Blue Sweater. There is a part in the book where the author is expressing her dilemma about buying an expansive bottle of champagne while living in Africa among those who are poor. Her friend’s response, “I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense on one level. We’re working with the really poor and you and I couldn’t be more privileged in relative terms. But don’t pretend to be someone you aren’t. If you want to remain happy and alive in this work, you need to reconcile this part of who you are and understand the inconsistencies with the work you do and how it all fits into your whole way of being.” I think there is a lot to reflect on in this statement and keep coming back to it over and over. I’ve never been a fan of comparing situations and find it dismissive when someone says there are others who have it worse. There are always those who have it worse or better. It is a given of life. Yes, maybe many complaints we hear on a day to day basis are first world problems, but that is the world we live in. And, I am not saying some complaints are not petty and self-absorbed. However, I think spending more time reflecting on what we are grateful for in our lives and as stated in the above quote to spend time reflecting on the inconsistencies, but not attempt to marginalize or dismiss what we or others feel. If someone’s complaint hits a nerve perhaps instead of telling them others have it worse spend time and reflect on our own reaction (judgment). I think comparing creates more separateness.

And, while I am on the rant, really, how truly meaningless is to the child who isn’t even aware of the larger world to say there are children starving in Ethiopia so clean your plate. How is cleaning your plate helpful to those who have nothing. We can learn to be more grateful for what we have and teach that to children, but making blanket statements does nothing but dismiss and marginalize the person in front of us – in my opinion.

“For me, God exists in that place where all living things are interconnected-and we know it when we feel the divine. For the world to heal its suffering, we need to combine tough determination and bring solutions to poverty with this sense of ourselves not as isolated individuals, but as beings who need one another and depend on one another.”

“I am a part of all that I have met.” And they-every one of them, good and bad-are a part of me.”

Poverty is complex and there are many opinions and obviously I know very little, but I found this book triggered my thinking about poverty and the solutions to poverty. There are so many well meaning people who want to help and many who think the solution is to throw money at the situation. There are numerous organizations doing just this, but this book highlights how many are not helping, and in fact are making things worse.

“I’ve learned that generosity is far easier than justice and that, in the highly distorted markets of the poor, it is all too easy to veer only toward the charitable, to have low – or no – expectations for low-income people. This does nothing but reaffirm prejudices on all sides.” She provides several examples of how helping people back to health and assisting building a sustainable income generating business restores hope and dignity to the poor. And, why it is important to hold people accountable no matter their economic situation.

She ends the book with Aristotle’s definition of happiness, which is a deep sense of meaning, purpose, and, ultimately, abiding joy. I do believe this is my favorite definition I have read to date. I generally ignore all happiness quotes and books not because I am not a believer, but because I don’t believe in a bubbly lightness that society appears to want to embrace. It isn’t possible.

So those are my musings so far. Always subject to change. I close with my favorite from the book – how Acumen, the author’s company, is attempting to define leadership.

Go to the people
live with them, learn from them
love them
start with what they know
build with what they have.

But of the best leaders,
when the job is done,
the task accomplished,
the people will say:
“We have done it ourselves.”
- LAO TZU

This is the popular dance tune and have to admit it is growing on me. I downloaded it from iTunes today.

A few photos from last night. Without much opportunity for cardio dancing is what we have. I just have the phone so most are blurry, but you get the idea. Overall it was a nice mellow evening. This morning I did an hour if yoga and am trying to organize my office to prepare for my first monthly closing of the accounting books.

Can you believe it!!! I finished the year!!! Beautiful flowers to welcome in the New Year. A very joyous 2013 to all!!

I forgot the best story of the night. After an hour of thumping music, one of the women ripped off her head cover (forget the name) and stated in a deep powerful voice, NOW I DANCE. LOVED IT!!!

A few photos – not the best quality. I included our DJ until he was kicked out.

Ah Sunday morning- our day off. I am typing and playing FB Scrabble.
It is almost 11 and some are still sleeping or at least staying in
their room, others are at the hospital. Well, as soon as I typed that
three surfaced and are now in the kitchen making pancakes. I am taking
in the background sounds: Rod Stewart, children playing, goats crying,
kitchen sounds. It is peaceful. As I’ve mentioned before we live in
compound and because of security reasons I have yet to see what exists
outside the compound – other than the hospital. I’ve been told there
is an Islamic school behind us, which would explain the constant sound
of children. This morning there were little hands sticking through the
fence with little voices yelling “Good Morning.”

Last night there was an end of the year party for the national staff.
I will attempt to post pictures. A mixture of Christians and Muslims
so no alcohol was served – only Pepsi. I had to laugh as a few of the
expats spiked their Pepsi (I was not one of them ). The food served
was Suya – goat on a stick (although it can be other meat as well).
Suya defined by Wikipedia: is a shish kebab like food popular in
West Africa, originally from the Hausa people of northern Nigeria and
Niger. The meat is rubbed-in with tankora, a dry spice mix containing
powdered groundnuts, cayenne pepper, ginger, paprika and onion powder,
then barbecued.

I’m curious by the fact that I can eat chicken, beef, and fish without
cringing, but one bite of goat sends chills down my back. No rhyme or
reason to it. It was hard to determine the taste as the spice overtook
any other taste. I washed it down with a Pepsi something I would NEVER
drink in the U.S. One bite was all I needed. I have now tried Suya.
The Nigerian men and women put the expats to shame with their dancing
skills. They can shake and isolate their hips resulting in some
serious booty wiggling while their upper body remains fluid and
graceful. The men’s movement reminded me of popping (street dancing).
I am fairly certain I look like I am going into convulsions. My body
just doesn’t move that way.

We are all tired from last night despite the party wrapping up around
10. For whatever reason that none of us know the Mosque behind us was
chanting from the Qu’ran into the wee hours of the night. I think they
must have a new speaker system as not even the fans in my room could
drown out the drone of the chanting. At midnight I considered sneaking
out and unplugging the system. Like usual I was up early. I started
the morning with an hour of yoga and now feel a good achiness in my
body.

I plan to spend the rest of the day reflecting on 2012 and writing my
intentions for 2013. It is hard to believe another year is coming to a
close. Happy New Year to all!!!