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Letters from Ann Evans, Old Fangak.Returning from Old Fangak-Letter #7 At 2 AM a few days ago, I awoke from a deep sleep by a sound--- like a boat on the river. But it wasn’t a boat—not here in Carrboro, NC where there are no rivers. And I wasn’t in a mosquito net tent with stars above, nor hearing the soft sounds of sleep from friends’ neighboring tents. Sleep didn’t return, not with my mind far away and thinking about the ‘what next’ question. At 4 the tears came, along with the realization that it was just one week ago to the hour that I was saying good bye, taking care of my last patients in Old Fangak, staying at the ‘hospital’ until the plane flew overhead and we literally ran to the boat to make our way to the airport across and up the river. Images of mothers and children flashed through my mind, along with faces of national staff and the good friends with whom I worked; sigh. One week? It seems ages ago and, at the same time, in some unclear ways, I’m still there—disoriented again, but without the clear sky and brilliant stars of Sudan to tell me where I really am! Between Old Fangak and here in NC, I was in Nairobi for 5 days, decompressing, sleeping, enjoying 24-hour access to the internet, unlimited electric power, hot water and a real shower, finally washing off the dirt and dust of Sudan that was particularly visible on the feet. Much of the time I spent alone, catching up with messages, reading, walking, thinking of things we needed in Old Fangak—more pens for the staff who wanted to ‘borrow’ mine--I quickly learned to carry extras. I added a thermos for Jill’s tukel--so she could have hot tea when she couldn’t sleep after being up late at night with a sick patient—and more chocolate since one can never have enough of that; gram flour so David could recreate some of the tasty Indian treats that Tish made; a dust pan with a brush so the dirt floor could be properly cleaned, if one can properly clean a dirt floor….. I copied pictures from my computer from Old Fangak onto a newly purchased disk for Jill and sent another disk of music from my iTunes collection. All of these acts and gifts were part of the process of leaving, of letting go, still taking care of things both small and meaningful. The day before leaving Kenya I visited the Maji Mazuri project—another project, like Jill’s, that is partly supported by Bill and Marina Shaw through Crosscurrents International Institute (go to crosscurrentsinstitute.org for more information and a picture of the wonderful Director, Wanjiku). From early morning until late afternoon I toured the orphanage for severely mentally and medically handicapped children—a place with a simple sparse building and staff with large compassionate hearts. Next we went to the project located in the largest and worst slum of Nairobi, where tens of thousands live in shanties that stretch forever, marginalized from the finer neighborhoods--places with brick walls topped with broken glass, fences with locked gates, and guards for an added measure of security. This slum, like so many others in the world, houses the most desperate of the ‘have nots’, who, without hope, vision and support exist by any means possible. Drug and alcohol abuse, prostitution, and violence as well as profound mental and physical illness abound. Jeremiah, a trim, intense, articulate young man who had been working with the slum project for only 6 months talked of their ‘holistic’ approach with the children. A core value is to attend to spiritual needs—not in a religious sense, but in feeding the life force that allows one to see past the misery, hunger, desperation and the tsunami of hopelessness. One goal is to help children, through a variety of activities, identify areas of untapped potential, where interests and skills can be nurtured and developed. Another goal is have the children grow up with opportunities and practices of helping others, while helping themselves avoid the seductive vices that would trap them in the slums forever. A computer lab and training provide many with IT skills that lead to paid employment and the means to exit the slum. For adults, the micro-economic project provides training on how to start, run and succeed in a small business; and loans with interest requirements provide the financial means to do so. People enter the program in groups of five and are both responsible for and to each other; if one fails to pay back their loan the others are accountable—a real incentive to help the others to succeed. After Jeremiah’s outstanding and heartfelt explanation of the microeconomic program, we headed out to look at some of the projects, including a ‘hotel’ in the slum—a two room metal building behind a fenced area where Maji Mazuri hopes to construct a large multi-storied and multipurpose building to bring together and expand their various programs. Fund raising is in progress, so feel free to make a donation. This is another project under Crosscurrents that is saving lives and nurturing the potential of people who will ‘pay forward’ a portion of what they receive. Finally, we visited the school that Maji Mazuri supports in the slum, where children are in an amazingly cramped space with limited latrine facilities and where the rain creates havoc when it comes. While the surrounds were sparse, dark, and crowded, a positive air wafted through, and I sensed that these children have hope, hope for a better life than others who also live in the slum. At the end of the tour Jeremiah and MC debated whether it was ‘too rough’ for me to walk back to the office by taking the most direct route—right through the slum. Speaking for myself, I said, “It’s not; let’s go!” The walk took us over uneven sometimes muddy ground past hovels with families cooking in the open air. Children played and sang out “How are you” and responded “fine” when the greeting was returned, probably exhausting their entire English vocabulary. Our walk led past a small set of latrines on a hillside, which I decided not to examine closely…. None of the shanties had facilities of their own and I thought about the late night need and whether one would risk walking there in the dark… Then the last leg of the walk was uphill—narrow, rocky, uneven. Jeremiah said he thought I might need a hand, which meant, of course, that I would and could manage the hill myself, thank you very much! It was satisfying to take the harder path, but I did regret not taking a picture of the narrow, twisting upward climb. Another time… By now it was 4 pm and the kindly driver, Manji, took me to Wanjiku who drove me back to the Methodist Guest House where we drank tea and talked for over 2 ½ hours, getting to know and appreciate each other. Through her stories, I discovered a wise, intelligent, skilled and compassionate person, who brings her heart in all its fullness to the Maji Mazuri programs. But that’s not all Wanjiku does. One of the most touching stories related to fourteen years of annual visits to Rwanda where Wanjiku leads women’s groups, helping them focus on and heal from their experiences--the memories, and the long term traumatic effects of the massacre of the Tutsis by the Hutus where up to a million people died. One participant, upon learning that she just shook the hand of a person from the tribe that killed her family, ran screaming from the room, heading for the river to drown her self for dishonoring her family by touching this person. Someone was sent to bring her back and over the next few days she was able to rejoin the group, to see the other woman as a person, one with her own pain, and not as the soldier responsible for the death of her family. With so much conflict in the world, particularly in tribal areas, where lines are drawn firmly and retaliation abounds, this form of focused intervention and healing provide a glimmer of hope for peace. But the need is great and there are so few who are trained, able, and willing to do this kind of work. Opportunity waits; but can the people? Can the world? By some stroke of coincidence, alignment of the stars, divine intervention, or just dumb luck—I received an email, then a call from Liverpool Associates in Tropic Health (LATH) regarding a consulting opportunity in Juba, the headquarters of the government of South Sudan. The call was linked to the course on International Health Consultancy that I took in Liverpool, England a little over a year ago. The consultancy involves evaluating and making recommendations regarding the midwifery programs to improve the competency of the midwives in a country that leads the world in maternal mortality, where most births lack a trained birth attendant--something we take for granted in our country. The consultation team includes three people—me from the US, a nurse midwife from Nigeria, now living, I believe in England and another nurse midwife from Sweden. I am feverishly preparing to leave for Nairobi on Friday and be in Juba by Monday, —yikes!! And I still need to get my glasses fixed that I broke in Old Fangak while swatting a wasp! Please remember the project in Old Fangak, where the need for funds to battle the kala-azar epidemic continues. Your on-going contributions there allow me the luxury of being elsewhere while together we improve the lives and health of the people of Sudan. Thanks for all that you do, and for joining me in this effort. Crosscurrentsinstitute.org and Sudanmedicalrelief.org are loaded with information on how to join and sustain this great work. In research we sometimes see a ‘statistical’ difference, but may question whether it makes a ‘real’ difference. Be assured, in Old Fangak and projects like Maji Mazuri, we make a difference that really matters! Now, THAT is good news! Warm regards, Namaste, thank you, and may the God of many colors and of all people bless each of you in your efforts to make this a kinder, gentler world… ann evans |
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