April 24, 2011
During the clinic we didn’t have too many unusual episodes. Moslty the usual bichos meds, vitamins, the occasional cough, and maybe some UTIs. But nothing out of the ordinary. About mid-afternoon on Easter Sunday a little girl and her mother showed up in triage. The girl had a crutch and a bandage around her thigh. She had trouble walking and couldn’t sit in the triage chair because he leg wouldn’t bend. I conducted the usual triage and the mother informed me that the girl, Narita, had had an accident and wanted the Doc to look at her leg.
A few minutes later I went upstairs to deliver some triage papers to the Doc. I walked in to see Narita sitting on a cot in the Doc’s office. He was examining her leg. I set the papers down and stepped out of the room. But curiosity took hold of me and I decided to go back .Narita had stabilizers in her thigh. They had been placed a year earlier and had never been taken out. Narita had tenderness around the stabilizing nails and you could smell infection.
The Doc told her he was going to take them out and that he would put her under so she wouldn’t feel anything. She was crying from fear and a little pain. Rachel and I went in search to find IV materials and some meds. After several trips to the posta (town clinic) we were ready. By this time Jackson, a former missionary and current 4th year med student, arrived just in time to be the anesthesiologist. Narita was put under and the Doc started prying away. It looked pretty graphic as the bars moved back and forth through her leg. After some more prying he finally just grabbed both sides and pulled it out with his bare hands.
The stabilizers were out and the cleanup began. It was a little stressful because we were all afraid of infecting the bone. After a little while Narita came to and was smiling. She was a sweet girl. We finished just in time to watch the boys play soccer. It was almost as if the surgery hadn’t happened.
It was good to see the boys all playing together. It warmed my heart and also saddened me knowing this would be on of the last times I would watch them play altogether. Afterwards the girls wanted to play volleyball. I was literally dragged onto the court to play with them. I like playing for fun, but I’m not good enough to compete and I don’t like to play when people are too serious, because I know I´ll just frustrate them. Anyway, I played awfully and sure enough frustrated a person or two, I quickly switched out and spent the rest of the evening cheering from the sidelines.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Into the Wild
April 23, 2011
Saturday we decided that instead of going to Church, we would go on a hike in search of some aguas calientes and waterfalls. Since this would be the only chance for all of us to do something fun together.
We woke up early, loaded a boat and took a three hour tour in search of the waterfall. To get to this waterfall we had to boat into a tiny off-shoot of the river and then hike in about an hour over hilly terrain. It was a fun hike and the most exercise I’d had probably the whole time I’ve been here.
The hike was pretty and reminded me a lot of Indonesia, rain forest, green, lush. I saw a few of those bright glue butterflies that you usually only see in frames.
We reached our destination, a beautiful large waterfall surrounded by luscious nature. The water was quite warm-like bath water, and in some places like a Jacuzzi. I’d actually wished for cold water to cool off from the hike. But this was quite wonderful as well. When we arrived, half the group had hiked in a little ways further to where there was a small waterfall and wading pool.
We hiked back in and played for hours, enjoying the nature and each others’ company. We also found a slightly smaller waterfall that had cold water. It was a great bonding day and I wished we could have done something like that sooner.
The trip back to Inahuaya was longer because we were traveling up river. We stopped ion the way so the Doc could make a phone call. Meanwhile, the rest of us swam about in the river-it was really refreshing. I was a little nervous about piranhas biting my feet, but fortunately I didn’t feel any nibbling.
On the way back we had sundown worship on the boat and sang. It touched my heart to be altogether worshipping in nature. I almost cried, almost. But I had to save up my tears for my farewell to my Peruvian family.
Saturday we decided that instead of going to Church, we would go on a hike in search of some aguas calientes and waterfalls. Since this would be the only chance for all of us to do something fun together.
We woke up early, loaded a boat and took a three hour tour in search of the waterfall. To get to this waterfall we had to boat into a tiny off-shoot of the river and then hike in about an hour over hilly terrain. It was a fun hike and the most exercise I’d had probably the whole time I’ve been here.
The hike was pretty and reminded me a lot of Indonesia, rain forest, green, lush. I saw a few of those bright glue butterflies that you usually only see in frames.
We reached our destination, a beautiful large waterfall surrounded by luscious nature. The water was quite warm-like bath water, and in some places like a Jacuzzi. I’d actually wished for cold water to cool off from the hike. But this was quite wonderful as well. When we arrived, half the group had hiked in a little ways further to where there was a small waterfall and wading pool.
We hiked back in and played for hours, enjoying the nature and each others’ company. We also found a slightly smaller waterfall that had cold water. It was a great bonding day and I wished we could have done something like that sooner.
The trip back to Inahuaya was longer because we were traveling up river. We stopped ion the way so the Doc could make a phone call. Meanwhile, the rest of us swam about in the river-it was really refreshing. I was a little nervous about piranhas biting my feet, but fortunately I didn’t feel any nibbling.
On the way back we had sundown worship on the boat and sang. It touched my heart to be altogether worshipping in nature. I almost cried, almost. But I had to save up my tears for my farewell to my Peruvian family.
Peruvian Eutopia
April 22, 2011
We arrived in Inahuaya about 10:30 that morning after sleeping another night on the lancha at port. The Doctor had arranged for a smaller boat to come pick us up from Contamana, the port where we had slept at. As we pulled into the dock at Inahuaya it looked like a quaint little town. Thatched roof huts greeted us as we unloaded our stuff. The Doc showed up as we were taking bags off the boat, we hadn’t seen him for awhile and quite frankly were frustrated with his lack of organization and communication at the beginning of this trip.
With all our belongings strapped onto motokars we were whisked away to the municipal building. The town was really cute. The road was basically a slightly wide sidewalk, but the town was quite clean and organized. A few minutes later we were all gathered in the municipal building to waiting to be given our next instructions. We were told that we needed to meet at the food house for lunch at 12:00 after settling into our hostels and showering. Then we would be starting clinic. By the time we gathered our stuff and arrived at our hostels it was 11:50 am. 10 minutes to settle and shower.
Lunch was tasty, unfortunately I couldn’t eat much because I was still suffering from whatever parasites decided to camp out in my stomach and intestines. With everyones tummies full we made our way to set up clinic. The municipal building was really nice. Tile floors, concrete walls, windows, a second story. It was quite impressive. I was beginning to like the town more and more. And what’s more, when we started registration and triage, people were clawing and yelling and trying to get their names on the list. They patiently waited in line. They never complained or asked why they had to wait for the person ahead of them to finish triage. It was beautiful. I officially decided I loved the town.
We arrived in Inahuaya about 10:30 that morning after sleeping another night on the lancha at port. The Doctor had arranged for a smaller boat to come pick us up from Contamana, the port where we had slept at. As we pulled into the dock at Inahuaya it looked like a quaint little town. Thatched roof huts greeted us as we unloaded our stuff. The Doc showed up as we were taking bags off the boat, we hadn’t seen him for awhile and quite frankly were frustrated with his lack of organization and communication at the beginning of this trip.
With all our belongings strapped onto motokars we were whisked away to the municipal building. The town was really cute. The road was basically a slightly wide sidewalk, but the town was quite clean and organized. A few minutes later we were all gathered in the municipal building to waiting to be given our next instructions. We were told that we needed to meet at the food house for lunch at 12:00 after settling into our hostels and showering. Then we would be starting clinic. By the time we gathered our stuff and arrived at our hostels it was 11:50 am. 10 minutes to settle and shower.
Lunch was tasty, unfortunately I couldn’t eat much because I was still suffering from whatever parasites decided to camp out in my stomach and intestines. With everyones tummies full we made our way to set up clinic. The municipal building was really nice. Tile floors, concrete walls, windows, a second story. It was quite impressive. I was beginning to like the town more and more. And what’s more, when we started registration and triage, people were clawing and yelling and trying to get their names on the list. They patiently waited in line. They never complained or asked why they had to wait for the person ahead of them to finish triage. It was beautiful. I officially decided I loved the town.
10 Hours and Counting
April 21, 2011
Ten hours in the same place on this lancha. This whole trip has been ridiculous. We were supposed to leave on Sunday, today is Thursday. We decided in a meeting a week earlier that we would be leaving Sunday the 17th. That turned into Monday, which turned into Tuesday in which we had a flat tire on the way to the port, the boat then decided it wasn’t going to leave. Tuesday then turned into Wednesday evening at 8 o’clock.
With all of our stuff loaded into the cargo boat, we were off to Inahuaya, a little town upriver that is home to three of our Peruvian boys. The SM’s, Wendy and Cecilia all played 7-up until the boat captain came and asked us for our names, nationality, and passport numbers, the latter of which we all made up because we didn’t have our passports with us. Oh, Peru, I love it.
We played until the cook kicked us off the table. We all decided it would be a good time to get settled and go to bed. We made our way downstairs into the crowded cargo area. Actually, crowded would be putting it mildly. Every inch of space was filled with food items being imported to the smaller river towns, smelly chickens, or bodies. It made for a pleasant smell. Even the air space was filled with hammocks strung up so close you could feel the person next to you breathing. My place of “rest” was wedged under Rachel and Rebecca and next to some guy I didn’t know. His feet lay conveniently six inches from my face. I wrapped my hammock around myself and tried to get comfy.
At 12:30 AM I was awakened to my hammock swinging wildly back and forth and mothers screaming. The engine was revving quite loudly. We were stuck on a sand bank. Great. Apparently being stuck on a sand bank can be dangerous, there is a chance that the boat could tip over. In my groggy state I prayed that we would get unstuck soon and that I wouldn’t wake up swimming in the Ucayali river.
I awoke at 6:00 am to an aroma mixture of body odor, wet chickens, and warm soggy onions. Probably the worst combination in the world. I felt nauseous, but there was no way I was getting out of my hammock and to the edge of the boat soon. So I thought happy thoughts and suppressed the nauseous feeling. With that abated, we sat a waited to get off the sandbank. It was getting quite hot and stuffy because of the lack of airflow. We passed the time by reading, chatting, and snacking. Oh, did I mention that throughout all of this I was fighting some bicho in my stomach. I had gurgly gut the whole time and was praying that the war going on in my stomach wouldn’t decide to retreat out the exit.
It was starting to get rough about hour 7 on the boat. One lady tried to start a revolt. “People, we need to get off this boat. Children are starving. We need to rally anyone we know who lives on the river with a small boat to come and take the women and children out of here. Who is with me? Everyone to the front of the boat!” It was comical.
Finally, about 11:00 am on the 21st, we found a way out of the sand bank after trying to hail down various other boats. Everyone let out a hoot and holler and shout of rejoicing over our freedom. I felt like music should be playing and people should be crying and hugging each other. But the rejoicing only lasted a minute and then we were on our way.
So, here I am now, hanging out in my hammock, Steph is next to me working on her dreads, a parrot is overhead. Every now and then he squawks out an, “hola,” or, “corre corre corre,” on rare occasions a, “papi, ven!” It’s cute, and the parrot is pretty.
A breeze blows as long as we’re moving and the green luscious jungles slowly pass as we make our way down the river to Inahuaya. I pray that despite all the craziness we’ve gone through to getting here, God will still work through us. We’ll see where he leads.
Ten hours in the same place on this lancha. This whole trip has been ridiculous. We were supposed to leave on Sunday, today is Thursday. We decided in a meeting a week earlier that we would be leaving Sunday the 17th. That turned into Monday, which turned into Tuesday in which we had a flat tire on the way to the port, the boat then decided it wasn’t going to leave. Tuesday then turned into Wednesday evening at 8 o’clock.
With all of our stuff loaded into the cargo boat, we were off to Inahuaya, a little town upriver that is home to three of our Peruvian boys. The SM’s, Wendy and Cecilia all played 7-up until the boat captain came and asked us for our names, nationality, and passport numbers, the latter of which we all made up because we didn’t have our passports with us. Oh, Peru, I love it.
We played until the cook kicked us off the table. We all decided it would be a good time to get settled and go to bed. We made our way downstairs into the crowded cargo area. Actually, crowded would be putting it mildly. Every inch of space was filled with food items being imported to the smaller river towns, smelly chickens, or bodies. It made for a pleasant smell. Even the air space was filled with hammocks strung up so close you could feel the person next to you breathing. My place of “rest” was wedged under Rachel and Rebecca and next to some guy I didn’t know. His feet lay conveniently six inches from my face. I wrapped my hammock around myself and tried to get comfy.
At 12:30 AM I was awakened to my hammock swinging wildly back and forth and mothers screaming. The engine was revving quite loudly. We were stuck on a sand bank. Great. Apparently being stuck on a sand bank can be dangerous, there is a chance that the boat could tip over. In my groggy state I prayed that we would get unstuck soon and that I wouldn’t wake up swimming in the Ucayali river.
I awoke at 6:00 am to an aroma mixture of body odor, wet chickens, and warm soggy onions. Probably the worst combination in the world. I felt nauseous, but there was no way I was getting out of my hammock and to the edge of the boat soon. So I thought happy thoughts and suppressed the nauseous feeling. With that abated, we sat a waited to get off the sandbank. It was getting quite hot and stuffy because of the lack of airflow. We passed the time by reading, chatting, and snacking. Oh, did I mention that throughout all of this I was fighting some bicho in my stomach. I had gurgly gut the whole time and was praying that the war going on in my stomach wouldn’t decide to retreat out the exit.
It was starting to get rough about hour 7 on the boat. One lady tried to start a revolt. “People, we need to get off this boat. Children are starving. We need to rally anyone we know who lives on the river with a small boat to come and take the women and children out of here. Who is with me? Everyone to the front of the boat!” It was comical.
Finally, about 11:00 am on the 21st, we found a way out of the sand bank after trying to hail down various other boats. Everyone let out a hoot and holler and shout of rejoicing over our freedom. I felt like music should be playing and people should be crying and hugging each other. But the rejoicing only lasted a minute and then we were on our way.
So, here I am now, hanging out in my hammock, Steph is next to me working on her dreads, a parrot is overhead. Every now and then he squawks out an, “hola,” or, “corre corre corre,” on rare occasions a, “papi, ven!” It’s cute, and the parrot is pretty.
A breeze blows as long as we’re moving and the green luscious jungles slowly pass as we make our way down the river to Inahuaya. I pray that despite all the craziness we’ve gone through to getting here, God will still work through us. We’ll see where he leads.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
To Do: organize/clean/pack/donate/throw out all of my stuff!
It was decided yesterday that we will be having one more campaign as a big hoorah to finish out this SM year. This threw me for a jolt as I am now forced to start packing away my life this week.
I was planning on putting off my goodbyes and consolidating until the last week of April, but I don´t really have that option anymore seeing as we will be leaving this Sunday and returning the 27th (two days before I head out). I started to tear up as I realized that this is my last week teaching, this Sabbath is my last Sabbath at my church, Sunday was the last time I will have shopped for food for the week….ugh, I hate ¨lasts.¨
A lot can happen in a week, as I have discovered since being down here. So I will save my reflections on the year for another day as well as updates on this trip, which will be up the river by the way. So please, please, continue to keep all of us in your prayers. Until then.
I was planning on putting off my goodbyes and consolidating until the last week of April, but I don´t really have that option anymore seeing as we will be leaving this Sunday and returning the 27th (two days before I head out). I started to tear up as I realized that this is my last week teaching, this Sabbath is my last Sabbath at my church, Sunday was the last time I will have shopped for food for the week….ugh, I hate ¨lasts.¨
A lot can happen in a week, as I have discovered since being down here. So I will save my reflections on the year for another day as well as updates on this trip, which will be up the river by the way. So please, please, continue to keep all of us in your prayers. Until then.
Oh life, you stump me sometimes
Tried to post this over a week ago.
As I sat in the new house at Km 8 watching birds soar gracefully in the cloud-filled sky, I thought about my life here in Peru over the last few months. The girls and I had been chatting about how glad we were to have made the decision to spend a part of our life here in Peru. Sure, there have been some downright cruddy times here. I´ve had a few times of tears, but amidst it all I´ve come to love this place.
I was discussing life here in Peru with Stephanie and decided the reason I love it so much is because here I live day-to-day. I´m not always bombarded by the future. At the moment I can´t decided if that´s truly a good thing or not. Do I love it here so much because I don’t feel pressured to quickly make crucial decisions about my life? Or is there something falta in the way I was living my life back at home? Am I worrying too much about my future and not being grateful for each day as I should?
My Christian upbringing says I “shouldn’t worry about tomorrow.” But practicality and society tell me that I have to have a plan, I have to know what´s coming up next in my future. Which voice do I listen to? Or should it be a combination?
I still haven´t come up with an answer. Although I’m afraid I know what will happen when I return home. I´ll get back into the routine of life before Peru. My future will stress me out, and I´ll wish I was back in Peru once again. Is that normal? Is that ok? Who´s to say? At this point I would much rather give it all to God. I really like not worrying about tomorrow.
Before coming here I was always the girl who had to have a plan. I always had to know what was coming next. I wanted to know each individual step along the road of my life. I wasn’t content just letting God lead. Yes, I ultimately wanted His plan for my life, but only as long as I had a significant say in the matter. It was always, “Ok God, I’ll take the lead on this one, and if you have any good suggestions just pass them my way. Or better yet, I’ll give you a call if I get hung up on something. Thanks.”
Now, I feel as though I’m just starting to realize how relieving it is to just allow God to lead. And you know, He has already worked some things out in my immediate future without my having to stress about it.
I’ve learned a lot in these last several months. But even if I were only brought here to come to this realization in my life I will still be a happy girl.
As I sat in the new house at Km 8 watching birds soar gracefully in the cloud-filled sky, I thought about my life here in Peru over the last few months. The girls and I had been chatting about how glad we were to have made the decision to spend a part of our life here in Peru. Sure, there have been some downright cruddy times here. I´ve had a few times of tears, but amidst it all I´ve come to love this place.
I was discussing life here in Peru with Stephanie and decided the reason I love it so much is because here I live day-to-day. I´m not always bombarded by the future. At the moment I can´t decided if that´s truly a good thing or not. Do I love it here so much because I don’t feel pressured to quickly make crucial decisions about my life? Or is there something falta in the way I was living my life back at home? Am I worrying too much about my future and not being grateful for each day as I should?
My Christian upbringing says I “shouldn’t worry about tomorrow.” But practicality and society tell me that I have to have a plan, I have to know what´s coming up next in my future. Which voice do I listen to? Or should it be a combination?
I still haven´t come up with an answer. Although I’m afraid I know what will happen when I return home. I´ll get back into the routine of life before Peru. My future will stress me out, and I´ll wish I was back in Peru once again. Is that normal? Is that ok? Who´s to say? At this point I would much rather give it all to God. I really like not worrying about tomorrow.
Before coming here I was always the girl who had to have a plan. I always had to know what was coming next. I wanted to know each individual step along the road of my life. I wasn’t content just letting God lead. Yes, I ultimately wanted His plan for my life, but only as long as I had a significant say in the matter. It was always, “Ok God, I’ll take the lead on this one, and if you have any good suggestions just pass them my way. Or better yet, I’ll give you a call if I get hung up on something. Thanks.”
Now, I feel as though I’m just starting to realize how relieving it is to just allow God to lead. And you know, He has already worked some things out in my immediate future without my having to stress about it.
I’ve learned a lot in these last several months. But even if I were only brought here to come to this realization in my life I will still be a happy girl.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Oh life, sometimes you stump me.
As I sat in the new house at Km 8 watching birds soar gracefully in the cloud-filled sky, I thought about my life here in Peru over the last few months. The girls and I had been chatting about how glad we were to have made the decision to spend a part of our life here in Peru. Sure, there have been some downright cruddy times here. I´ve had a few times of tears, but amidst it all I´ve come to love this place.
I was discussing life here in Peru with Stephanie and decided the reason I love it so much is because here I live day-to-day. I´m not always bombarded by the future. At the moment I can´t decided if that´s truly a good thing or not. Do I love it here so much because I don’t feel pressured to quickly make crucial decisions about my life? Or is there something falta in the way I was living my life back at home? Am I worrying too much about my future and not being grateful for each day as I should?
My Christian upbringing says I “shouldn’t worry about tomorrow.” But practicality and society tell me that I have to have a plan, I have to know what´s coming up next in my future. Which voice do I listen to? Or should it be a combination?
I still haven´t come up with an answer. Although I’m afraid I know what will happen when I return home. I´ll get back into the routine of life before Peru. My future will stress me out, and I´ll wish I was back in Peru once again. Is that normal? Is that ok? Who´s to say? At this point I would much rather give it all to God. I really like not worrying about tomorrow.
Before coming here I was always the girl who had to have a plan. I always had to know what was coming next. I wanted to know each individual step along the road of my life. I wasn’t content just letting God lead. Yes, I ultimately wanted His plan for my life, but only as long as I had a significant say in the matter. It was always, “Ok God, I’ll take the lead on this one, and if you have any good suggestions just pass them my way. Or better yet, I’ll give you a call if I get hung up on something. Thanks.”
Now, I feel as though I’m just starting to realize how relieving it is to just allow God to lead. And you know, He has already worked some things out in my immediate future without my having to stress about it.
I’ve learned a lot in these last several months. But even if I were only brought here to come to this realization in my life I will still be a happy girl.
I was discussing life here in Peru with Stephanie and decided the reason I love it so much is because here I live day-to-day. I´m not always bombarded by the future. At the moment I can´t decided if that´s truly a good thing or not. Do I love it here so much because I don’t feel pressured to quickly make crucial decisions about my life? Or is there something falta in the way I was living my life back at home? Am I worrying too much about my future and not being grateful for each day as I should?
My Christian upbringing says I “shouldn’t worry about tomorrow.” But practicality and society tell me that I have to have a plan, I have to know what´s coming up next in my future. Which voice do I listen to? Or should it be a combination?
I still haven´t come up with an answer. Although I’m afraid I know what will happen when I return home. I´ll get back into the routine of life before Peru. My future will stress me out, and I´ll wish I was back in Peru once again. Is that normal? Is that ok? Who´s to say? At this point I would much rather give it all to God. I really like not worrying about tomorrow.
Before coming here I was always the girl who had to have a plan. I always had to know what was coming next. I wanted to know each individual step along the road of my life. I wasn’t content just letting God lead. Yes, I ultimately wanted His plan for my life, but only as long as I had a significant say in the matter. It was always, “Ok God, I’ll take the lead on this one, and if you have any good suggestions just pass them my way. Or better yet, I’ll give you a call if I get hung up on something. Thanks.”
Now, I feel as though I’m just starting to realize how relieving it is to just allow God to lead. And you know, He has already worked some things out in my immediate future without my having to stress about it.
I’ve learned a lot in these last several months. But even if I were only brought here to come to this realization in my life I will still be a happy girl.
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