Community

Oh community life...
For those of you not aware of my current living situation, let me bring you up to date. I live on a 500 ft. ship with roughly 400 other people. We are currently docked off the coast of West Africa in a country called Togo. That number of 400 is slightly deceiving though, because over 1200 people are known to come through the doors of the Africa Mercy in any given 10 month to 1 year period.
I see my dentist, my doctor, my banker, my friends, my hairdresser, and handfuls of near-strangers at every meal, two breaks a day, and randomly throughout the day.
I work on the 3rd deck of the ship where the hospital is, exactly 13 stairs away from my bedroom.
I live with three other girls in what they call a 4 berth cabin and we are totally blessed because we have a small common 'pod' as I would like to call it, with a window (that looks out onto shipping containers on a dusty dock) which is more than a lot of people can say.
We are a fully functioning ship with a captain, officers, 'deckies', engineers and electricians.
We are also a fully functioning hospital with full time surgeons, nurses, lab techs, and pharmacists.
The kitchen is the 'galley', I live on the 'aft' end of the ship and the ceiling is the 'bulkhead' (or deckhead. Shoot, I can never remember that one)
We have fire drills where we 'abandon ship' and stand pirate watch when we sail.
Oh, and we all come from around 40 different countries.

If that isn't bizarre enough, don't forget, we are parked in Africa.

I eat dinner every night with friends who have become my adopted family. We sit and talk about our days, pick up on those whose mood seems off, laugh over our differences and at ourselves in general. A couple times a week we go to our respective departmental devotionals, community meetings, and church. We sit and play card games in the evenings, do a group bible study on Wednesdays, and pull together every pillow and blanket we have and sprawl out on the floor for movie nights.
When one person goes for a Rooibos, (our choice South African tea here on the ship) they never have to ask if anyone wants one, but rather get a show of hands for how many they need to make, we already know how the others take theirs.
(Joanna-half hot water, half cold water, straight up. JB-straight tea. Michiel-one and a half sugars. Suzanne-one sugar. Paul-honey. Amy-straight. Anouchka-no tea, but a glass of water. Sandra-no tea, but fill nalgene with water)

Outside of the steel walls, several hundred thousand West Africans are living their lives in the small city of Lome, showing us the true definition of what community lived out looks like. They care for each other, cook with each other, spend Sunday afternoons after church dancing and socializing (and even include the random yovo's who happened upon their local spot in their meal plans).
When one is sick, the others pull together for the hospital bill. They care for each other's children, and help carry heavy loads.

At home so many of us have social boundries that cause unspoken divides. At home, if I held one of my patients for more than a minute or two, most parents would not be impressed.
Here, I kiss the little boy who needs an IV, and cuddle crying babies for hours. I get running hugs when I walk down the hallway, and I talk for hours with people and nurses from all over the world who happen to know exactly what draws me to this place and keeps me here. I have an overwhelming sense when I am in Africa that God intended us to live in community, that Africa has a lot to teach us.
When a child is hurting, it is natural to kiss them, to comfort them in any way you can. If your neighbor is in trouble, you should help them. If someone is struggling, you should have no regard for time if it means you can help them.
Yesterday one of our pateints was being discharged and we knew he would have trouble making it to the gate on his new crutches.
"I wish we could drive him to the gate" his nurse said.
"Then lets do that" I replied.
I told the other nurses that I would be right back, I grabbed an available car, loaded up the patient and his mama, and off we went. Destination: Port gate. When we got there the translator casually mentioned they would have difficulty finding a taxi, that we should drive to the nearest roundabout.
Sure I thought, totally appropropriate to be driving around the city in the middle of my shift. When I watched the patient and his mama safely pull away in the taxi I thought to myself how silly it was that I would even hesitate for a second to drive the exta 1 km so that a fellow human would have an easier time getting home.
Stupid unspoken rules.
Right now all of B ward is finishing a movie. Our tv's aren't working down here so two of us nurses collaborated and put together a laptop and Madagascar. I came back from dinner to see everyone, including the traslators, laughing during the credits watching the characters dance. Before that, the other charge nurse called me to see if anyone spoke Fon, the local dialect from Benin. None of our translators did, so I set off for the laundry room. Our volunteer in Housekeeping happens to speak Fon, and so we pulled her from the washing machines and turned her towards the gangway to go help whoever was there to communicate with us.
Life here flows differently. Relationship is the top priority. Helping people, making life more comfortable for others is the rule, not the exception.
Its not about feeding the poor, well, it is, but this point is slightly different. I don't pity the people here, thats the last thing they need. I try and keep my eyes open and learn from them, attempting to adopt thier outlook on life as it relates to others as best I can.

God asks us to 'pour out our souls'(Isaiah 58:10), that 'faith without deeds is dead' (James 2:14), that 'whatever we do for the least of these, we do to Him'(Matthew 25:40). What I almost missed while focusing on those requests was what I am learning in the process, and that is that life is better when lived alongside others. No boundries, no divides.
Thats community.