The Living Church

I want to let everyone know that I did not give up on my blog. I had started to write a couple of posts, but a lot happened and they became somewhat irrelevant. Now, I am to the point were I have so many different thoughts I want to share that I don’t even know were to begin. I hope to eventually write a few posts about the end of my mission, my travels, and the transition back to America, but for now I will start with one short story.

I was very lucky to spend a weekend in Rome during my post-mission travels. (Shout out to Marta for going with me!) Rome might be the most beautiful city that I have ever visited. Every corner is full of culture and history, but my favorite thing about the city is all of the churches. There are the landmark ones that we planned to visit and they, of course, took our breath away, but I was amazed that even the small churches that seemed so simple on the outside were just as extravagant on the inside. I saw my favorite saints in priceless art. I saw years of hard work to create these places of worship. I saw sculptures that my hands could never dream of creating. I cannot even describe the beauty of these churches.

They were unlike anything I had ever seen, but they weren’t my favorite representation of the church that I saw that weekend.  As Marta and I were leaving one of the churches, I saw a young woman kneeling down with an elderly homeless woman. She had both her hands on the woman’s shoulder and was praying over her aloud as the woman smiled softly. It was simple, yet so powerful. This was it. This was the most beautiful image of the church that I saw. I love the symbolism of my church. I love that there are images from 100s of years ago that still resonate in my life today.  I love that I have such incredible places to worship. Yet, what I love even more than all of this is the living church.

I see such beauty in God’s people living the life that He has called them to and that is a life of love. It is a life of humbling oneself and knowing where one’s worth lies. This is what God asks of the church. He asks us to love His people, to love all those around us. There is a lot of hate and negativity in the world. Nothing hurts me more than when this hate is claimed to come from “Christian” values. Devaluing a person, for any reason, is never something that God asks of us. He is asking us to show acceptance and support to all of His people, especially those in most need.

Watching a poor woman get prayed over was the reminder I needed as to what God wants of His people. He wants witnesses. He wants the living church to have a presence in all corners of the world and in all populations. He is asking me to be His hands and feet, whether in South Sudan, Rome or Tallahassee. I must show the beauty of the church, especially to those who might not see it otherwise. 

UnBULLievable

Today I will share with you a story. It’s one of those “only in Africa,” one of a kind experience kind of stories. It’s a story of confusion, fun, surprises and joy.

It all started with a donation. Sr. Thuy was at the school when a parent came to visit. He was offering to donate, what she understood, to be a ball for the children to play with. She graciously excepted, thinking how lucky they were because they had just broken their last good ball. Later, when they were trying to figure out when he could bring the donation by, one of the other teachers said, “Sr. Thuy, you know he wants to donate a BULL, not a BALL,” and that’s how we came to have a pet bull for one week.

We accepted the bull to provide a meal for the children as a gift. We had to keep him for one week before we prepared the meal. He was a very gentle bull. We made the classic mistake or naming our food, but I have no regrets. Chol the bull became our friend, but we also weren’t sad about the fact that he would be eaten. Feeding over 1,000 children isn’t such a bad fate. We kept him in our compound tied to a mango tree. Someone had to go to the market every day to collect food to keep him full and happy.

The plan was for the children to enjoy their meal on Friday, April 21. We didn’t have much time and had quite a few details to settle. The dispensary staff was also going to help with preparation and cooking since we are right next to the school and had a good area and kitchen to prepare it in. We had a staff meeting on Tuesday to  get advice on the best way to go about this. Eventually it was settled that the meat would need to start being prepared on Thursday evening.

We hired two men to come slaughter the bull at 7 PM on Thursday. Somehow I ended up there while it was happening and I realized that I had become a stronger person in my time here. I never would have thought that was something I would witness. 4 of our cleaning/cooking ladies from the dispensary came to prepare and cook the meet. I worked with them until midnight cutting the meat. I figure if the whole nursing thing doesn’t work out, I guess I could find a job as a butcher (here’s to hoping that nursing works out.) Sr. Antonieta and the ladies stayed up the whole entire night cooking. Everything worked out great and the cow fed all of the students and the staff of St. Joseph’s and the Dispensary staff.

The children were SO excited to get food. One student who is in P-8 thought it was a miracle because after all of his years at St. Joseph’s, this was the first time they got a meal. They all ate and enjoyed so much. It was a lot of work for one meal, but that meal meant a lot to the kids. I’m so grateful for the father who donated the bull, for the sisters and for the staff who helped make this happen.  It was such a unique experience and one that I will never forget!  

A Lesson in Love

I realized that I haven’t really written a lot about my time at the dispensary, even though that is the biggest part of my mission here. I think part of what kept me from writing about my experiences there is that it is so hard to describe what a day is like there. It’s easier to write about the children at oratory or the celebrations we have or the trips around the town.

I am so glad that I can use my education to serve the people here, but it is in no way without its struggles and frustrations. As all of my nursing friends can attest, it is not easy to be a new nurse. There are so many new things to learn and so many new ways to apply the things we have been taught. Add to that a third world country, lack of supplies and technologies and a language barrier and it’s a wonder I consider myself a functional nurse at all. As with many things about moving to Africa, it was an adjustment, an adjustment that revealed many of my weaknesses.

My biggest strength during nursing school was my communication with my patients. If nothing else, I could almost always make my patient smile through kind words or patience in my speech. Here, I very rarely have a patient who speaks English. The language barrier is my most frustrating struggle. I long so deeply to be able to comfort patients with my words, to kindly explain to them where they need to go after seeing me, to explain to a child that my stethoscope won’t hurt them.  I long to understand their full stories instead of getting the roughly translated version, to hear their concerns, to listen to their histories.  I want to be able to explain to them that every fever doesn’t necessarily mean malaria, that it is a good thing when the test is negative, that every cough doesn’t need an antibiotic.

I often have patients that I know need more care than what I can offer. Patients that I know don’t have the money or the access to the care that they truly need to get better. I have patients that have been shuffled from facility to facility getting prescription after prescription that may or may not help the underlying problem.  It is hard because these patients are really trusting in me and there are many times that I feel like I am letting them down. I have limited knowledge, limited experience and limited courage.

Through all of these struggles and frustrations, every day brings beauty, even though I am limited, even though I am not enough. This is because I have a God who is enough, who is limitless. A God who shows me how to love, who teaches me patience and who provides true healing. I am just an instrument in His divine will. I am learning more from these struggles than any triumphs because I am learning the most important lesson of all, that I should never rely on my own self. God is teaching me to find new ways to share His love with my patients. There are many ways to show kindness, patience and joy without any words at all.

After five months of being here, I truly believe that God has used me to bring joy to the people here. He has used my broken Arabic, love for children and limited medical knowledge. I am not afraid to love these people. I am not too proud to try using my Arabic, even though half the time they laugh or think that I am still speaking English. I am not embarrassed when every eye in the dispensary is on me as I teach a couple of toddlers how to play patty cake. My favorite moments of each day are when I have a few spare minutes when I can go around and greet everyone and try to make the babies laugh.

I am a nurse in South Sudan. I write diagnosis and give prescriptions. I have treated hundreds of malaria patients. I have had a month in charge of the Tuberculosis program. I am a nurse, but first I am a daughter of Christ. I want all of my patients to be healthy, but I need them to be loved.  In the grand scheme of things, the love of Christ is stronger than any medicine I could ever give.

A Special Day!

There is a very important man in my life. I only started to really get to know him in the last year or so, but he has really changed my life for the better.  He teaches me how to serve with my whole heart, how to truly love the young and how to bring joy into all that I do. He has introduced me to some of the most amazing and selfless people that I have ever met in my life. He helped me accept my calling to do mission work this year and deepened my desire to serve the poor and the young. Today is the feast day of St. Don Bosco and I am so happy to be celebrating with my Salesian family from all around the world.

For those of you who aren’t quite as familiar with the Salesian founder, I will share with you a little bit on the amazing life of this saint. He was born into a poor family in Turin, Italy in 1815. His father died when he was very young and his mother (Mamma Margaret) raised him and his brothers. God revealed to him in a dream at the age of 9 that he was meant to live a holy life. From such a young age, he was able to inspire his peers and teach them more about Jesus. He entertained many crowds with his skills of juggling, story telling and tight rope walking. He would always end his entertainments with a retelling of the gospel or a praying of the rosary.

After becoming a priest, he continued to live a life in poverty. He gave all that he had to serve the young and the poor. He saw many young boys on the street and he wanted to love them and give them a better life. He created the oratory for these boys, a place that acted as home, church, school and playground. Most importantly, he loved these boys and all children that he encountered. He was able to show them their worth in the eyes of God and teach them how to be good Christians and honest citizens.

This is the model that all Salesian communities have. It is his example that first attracted me so deeply to serve with a Salesian organization. His love, especially for the young, is a constant inspiration to me. After serving here for almost 5 months now, it’s so apparent that the children are really the hope for the future of this country. The sisters run two schools, each with 1000 students. These kids are getting an education based on the plan of St. Don Bosco. The sisters are always reminding us volunteers that it is most important for these children to learn Christian values and discipline and that they must know that they are loved.

We use the model of Don Bosco’s oratory every week as we drive to Bilfam to host oratory for 200 local children. We sing, dance and play games, but we also have catechesis and always end the evening praying the rosary. It’s easy to dismiss children or say they are too young to learn or understand the teachings of the church, but they often hold the most hope for a society. It was a young boy at age 9 that knew to follow his calling to the church, was able to bring the gospel message to those much older than himself and who created a family of religious that now serves the young in the poor in almost every country of the world.

Don Bosco, pray for us!

The Joy of Children

I haven't posted a blog in a few weeks. I have a lot of ideas going, but haven't taken the time to put them all into words yet. To tide everyone over, I have a quick story to share.

The other day, Ania, Marta and I were walking to the market. When we were cutting through one of the side streets there was a group of children playing. They were playing some sort of game that involved tossing something back and forth while someone else ran. We had to walk in the middle of their game to get through so we were just awkwardly cutting through saying, "malesh" (sorry) and "kef?" (how are you?) We made it all the way through and then one little boy, who was probably about 5, ran up to us with his hand extended and said "kawaija (white person), how are you?" As soon as we started shaking his hand, all of the other children ran up to us with huge smiles and their little hands extended yelling with glee, "kawaija kwaija!" It was one of those moments that filled me with such pure joy. In that moment, I felt God's love in such a real and intimate way. I was so completely assured that I am exactly were the Lord wants me to be, doing exactly what he wants me to be doing.

I am forever grateful for the lessons I can learn from children, for the smiles they offer me and the simplicity of their love.

Christmas in South Sudan

This was my first time ever being away from home for the holidays. It was such a unique experience to be able to celebrate Christmas in a new environment with new people, but with the same purpose-welcoming our Lord and savior into the world! Advent was a beautiful time of preparation for the birth of Jesus. Our masses and prayers were very focused on the coming of Christmas and the church was always full, even during daily mass. It was inspiring to see the faith of the people. There weren’t Christmas lights and decorations everywhere around town, but the church did play Christmas music every morning at 6:30 to let us know mass was about to start. (It was only slightly ironic that the first time I woke up to the music, they were playing Silent Night.)

The week of Christmas was full of many celebrations. On Sunday, we had our staff Christmas party. The sisters invite all of the employees from both of their schools and the dispensary to have mass and lunch together. At one point, a pretty great dance party started to Feliz Navidad and it was glorious. Monday and Tuesday, we went caroling with some of the girls from the school. On Monday, we went to the United Nations compound to sing to the Kenyan soldiers and to Bilfam, the village where we host oratory. On Tuesday, we went to the prison and two hospitals. It was so encouraging to see these young girls spreading Christmas spirit to many places that otherwise might not experience it.

We celebrated Christmas Eve Polish style! Christmas Eve dinner is the big celebration in Polish culture so Ania and Marta prepared a traditional dinner of dumplings, cabbage soup and beet soup. We invited over our other polish friends Bartek and Kazik (the salesion vounteers that work next door with the priests) and Piotr (our new friend who works for the Red Cross.) We started dinner by reading the gospel of the birth of Jesus. After that we each took a piece of unleavened bread and went around the room giving Christmas greetings and good wishes to each person. After greeting each other, we took a piece of each other’s bread and then went to someone else. It is a beautiful tradition and we then had a great time eating and exchanging small gifts.

At 11:30 PM, we went to mass at our parish. There were so many people there. We even had to come back to the house to get chairs because we didn’t want to stand for all of Arabic mass. They can get pretty lengthy. We got home from mass around 2 AM and we all went into the sisters’ chapel to greet Jesus and sing a few carols. Then the sisters had set up the table to have hot chocolate and cookies before going to bed. After sleeping for about 5 hours, I decided to get up and go to the English mass, so I could actually understand the language and receive Jesus on his birthday. The rest of the morning was spent getting ready for our big lunch. We invited Fr George (our parish priest/Salesian), Kazik and Bartek over for lunch. It was really nice to celebrate all together!

The day after Christmas, we left for a weeklong holiday in a town called Tonj. It’s about a 3 hour drive from Wau (depending on the conditions of the road, during wet season it can take much longer.) All of us (volunteers and sisters) went for the day to have lunch with the community of Salesian sisters there, but Ania, Marta and I got to stay for the week. It was absolutely beautiful there. I’m hoping to have some time later to write a blog post just about Tonj so be on the lookout for that. We rang in the New Year there with the two sisters we were staying with. We got home from mass around 10 PM, had a delicious dinner and then the sisters broke out some nice beverages for us at midnight. I never would have expected that I would be starting the year like this, but I am so grateful for this experience, everything that I’m learning and the people that God has placed in my life.

I had a very merry Christmas and a happy New Year and I hope you all did as well!