A first time for everything

As you know (or may not know, I suppose), I rarely raise my voice too loud about how I feel regarding the politics surrounding the poverty I see on a daily basis. I'm not the most informed person in the world, I've been fed the same statistics as you on just how poor the people on the continent of Africa are. I've steadied myself trying to focus on the people, the ones right in front of me, but I can't lie and say I feel a bit sad [read:mad, outraged, etc...] when I hear comments about how people in America suffer too, or the question that requires a lot of personal restraint; "Why don't you help the people in your own country instead of going to Africa?"

If that's you, if that's what you think, please come here. Please take a glimpse of the day to day reality of how these people live. Don't watch it on a TV that you can change stations and forget about it by the time the next commercial ends, don't google it and try to relate to some obscure figure of numbers aimed at horrifying its audience, numbers that get thrown on a growing pile of information that doesn't actually impact anyone.
You don't even have to come here, read a book, a blog, something a tad more personal then a 30 second clip.
Then let it lead you into action.

Here's another idea, help those people who need it right in your own backyard rather then wonder why people leave to go serve elsewhere. Whatever it takes to bring action, do that. If we all do something, we may actually have an impact on the world. If we just talk about it, well, thats plain silly.

People in the church, you will be held even more responsible. I read somewhere that God's call, His will, isn't something you hear. Its His word, its there for everyone in black and white. His will for your life is for you to serve. Period. It doesn't matter where it is, that part He'll tell you. But listen, and act. Please. Yes there are people in America and all over the world who need help, is this something that actually causes a burden on your heart? Do you cry for them? Do you help them? Or do we post another random set of numbers as our facebook status and get 20 reactions agreeing with us, leading us all to....??

I am not accusing anyone of anything, which is why I never take this stance when I post. I don't like to feel argumentative, and I suppose I could give you some background as to what is fuelling this little flame of mine. In his book, Race Against Time, Stephen Lewis gives statistics aimed at actually opening our eyes to the problem in Africa. I can't stop thinking about one in particular. I read it 3 days ago, and still, for some reason, it is my answer to the question and comments I listed above in regards to serving in Africa.

(written in 2005) "At present, the European Union and United States together subsidize their farmers to the tune of $350 billion (U.S. dollars) a year; it equals five times the amount that is ploughed into foreign aid. If I may offer an evocative juxtaposition: Every cow in the European Union is subsidized to the tune of $2 dollars a day, while between 400 million and 500 million Africans live on less than a dollar per day."
And that's families living on less then a dollar per day, by the way.

Oh, how I wish I could organize my thoughts right now, there is just too much though. I want to tell you what living on 1 dollar a day looks like. Worried about our politics? How about not having a way to even prove your identity because you don't get birth certificates when you're born in the bush. Without an identity card, you have no rights to vote. Not that it matters in a lot of the countries that are corrupt.
Worried about health care? How about waiting on the floor of a dirty emergency room with a broken arm, bone sticking out through your skin, and dying three days later because you couldn't find anyone to bring you the 10 or 20 dollars it would take to be seen by a doctor. The same doctor who walked past as your body was ravaged with infection, painfully taking your life over those three days.
Against the war? Upset for our soldiers? What about the children who are being kidnapped, drugged, forced to kill each other, all in order to desensitize them and make them into 7, 8, 9 year old killing machines. That's not just for the movies, Blood Diamond didn't make that worse then it really is. It is happening today, right now as you read.
We've all heard about the AIDS problem. Some have even been known to say its their own fault, some of us here blame traditions and unsafe sex and a host of other human conditions that lead to this crisis. As I stood in an AIDS clinic yesterday, my heart registered a whole new emotion. Yes, many peoples bad decisions led them to becoming infected, but that's not what I saw. I saw the little toddlers with their mamas waiting in the yellow chairs, the chairs in the queue designated to pediatric patients. There is an entire generation who did not choose badly, who do not deserve to inherit this growing problem. But they did.

I'm not anti-America. I'm not trying to de-merit our soldiers or make it seem like I am against my own country. If anything, honestly, I can appreciate now more than ever my country and all the good things we have. Why does it have to be one or the other, I wonder? There is corruption on both sides of the ocean. There is pain, there is joy, there is unjust death and unfair politics. The point of all of this is, regardless of anything else, is there is a need. Whether its in the Middle East, Africa, or on Boston Common, we need to answer the call that is already written. Mother Theresa said 'If you can't feed one hundred people then just feed one'. We can all do that. If you have access to a computer and you are reading this, you are better off then millions upon millions of people in this world. Find an organization who is trustworthy and already doing something you believe in. Support them, talk about them, lets inspire action instead of a few minutes of pity for people. Actually give up one of your 5 dollar coffees a day and put the money aside for a greater good. Don't just read the statistics, research them and then put yourself into the shoes of the people and ponder what it would actually be like to live a different life.

What I have learned here, and what I hope resonates in my actions in words, is that we should be thankful for what we do have. When you sit in the doctors office and flip through magazines, be thankful you have the access to health care you do. Not because there are people who don't, but just because you should be thankful for something like that. If we change our attitudes to ones of gratefulness, our actions will reflect it. Only then will we change anything.

Quotables

I hear fairly hilarious, and sometimes outrageous comments on a daily basis. Such is a life working with kids, I guess.

Not all are funny, though, and some threaten to break my heart if not for the innocence in which a question may be asked, but then for the cruelty of this world.

So here is a few of the good, bad, and somewhat sad quotes I have jotted down during the last week.



Between Jake and myself-
Me: "Jake, you have to finish your dinner, just a few more bites and you'll be done"
Jake: "My tummy hurts, I'm full"
Me: "Jake, come one, I know you're not full, you have to eat at leat a little more of that food on your plate"
Jake: "I'm fasting"


Between Simon and Tazz-

Tazz: "Simon, you must finish your dinner, don't you know there are starving people right outside?"


Myself and Mary:
Mary: "Suzy, where were you born?"
Me: "In Winchester Hospital"
Mary: "Who found you?"
This is the one that breaks my heart, if you didn't already figure it out. Sweet little Mary.


Some random guy who pulled up next to us in a gas station when we were lost, apparently in a rough area (?)

Random guy: "You two ok?"
Michiel and I: "yup!"
Random guy: "Where are you going?"
Michiel and I answered
Random guy: "Where are you from?"
Another answer...
Random guy: "you sure you're ok?"
Michiel "yes, why?"
Random guy: "Usually whites don't come out this way unless they have guns"
Michiel: "oh, ok. Thanks!"


Same trip at the gas station and I was let in behind a locked gate where the register wass to use the bathroom (after getting slightly harrassed by the public toilets outside and deciding not to invite more by actually waiting outside of them) Just before this stop I had been directing us, unsucessfully, on our way to where we were going (no map, bad street names, and a list of other perfectly good excuses as to why we got lost. Certainly none of them had anything to do with me and my great navigation skills). Michiel naturally took the stance that his (lengthy) directions that took him a lot of time weren't to blame either. I'm sure no one reading can relate, right? This wasn't the first time we were lost together. Its Africa, afterall. A continent bent on proving Murphy's Law when one is trying to travel through.
As I came out of the bathroom and waited for the woman at the register to get the right key, Michiel waited for me on the other side with an old man who had limited teeth and seemingly even more limited understanding of Michiel's humor.
Michiel: "You want her? I'll give you a good price"(Don't forget I am standing next to the register)
*confused look*
Michiel: "Really, she is a good woman, and she can cook"
*smile*
Michiel: "And she's great at reading directions!"


Grandpa Len: "They put up new pillars near the new building"
Mary: "No, they're bricks"
G. Len: "No, Pillars"
Mary: "No, bricks"
Jake: "Grandpa Len is right, they're pills"



Me: "Jake, you have to take a bath, you're first on the list tonight"
Jake: "But I don't want to go first, why di I have to go first?"
Me: "You were last yesterday so its only fair. Come on, bath time"
Jake: "You know, I'm just not a bathing man"



"What soap is to the body, laughter is to the soul" -Yiddish Proverb

Unexpected reconciliation

While thinking about writing this post I decided to do a quick google search for headlines related
to abandoned babies in South Africa. The first two stories made me feel worse then I would have thought. I'm no more immune to pain having seen and heard these stories up close than someone reading from home, so I can't share much, it hurts far too much. The first story was moderately good in that the baby had survived, that is, after being put in a 6 foot pit which served as a toilet for 12 hours, being bitten by ants everywhere, found nearly freezing to death.


The second didn't share the same fate, he was found already dead, suffocated by the plastic bag still over his head.
I'm afraid if I let the tears start I won't gain control. And already I'm too late for that.
My heart aches in such a way just writing these things down that I can't imagine what God thinks, what He feels for these babies. They're just babies...

I don't think this post will go the direction I had intended. I can't think past the pain of these stories. The statistic given was that 3 babies are abandoned every 48 hours in this region of South Africa alone.
Oh God, what are we supposed to think? How can humanity be so disgusting? What are you thinking?

Oh Suzanne, I love every baby that is born into this world. I know each hair on their head, I see their little fingers and toes and admire them more than you can imagine. I am a Father to the Fatherless, I love them all dearly.
This is a fallen world, but someday, someday, it will all be ok. Those babies are with me, fully restored and loved in my perfect way. They don't know pain, the world failed them, but I promise never to let them go.
There will be a day when there is no more suffering, a day in which the whole world will cease to contain such violence and pain.
For now, work for those I place in front of you. Love them with the heart I have given you. Hold them and let their stories of hope dwell deep in your soul. Trust that this time is for your healing, for the sadness you carry from the others whom I have called home.
You will never understand it all, my ways, or the ways of the world. You don't have to. You're not supposed to. Trust. Trust in Me, that I love you and will never forsake you. You also are my child, and my love for you is more than you can imagine.

So kiss S'bu and enjoy his smiles...


Hug Thembeka and show her how much you delight in her...

Do these things in My name.

"Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me, but the one who sent me"-Jesus, Mark 9:37

Simon

Its my pleasure to introduce another member of this family here at Sinakekele. Simon was adopted by Ruth when he was just a baby, and is now 9 years old. She knew he was unlike other children right from the start. He didn't throw fits or cry over spilled milk (pun intended). He calmly watched the world around him and looked cute doing it (I've seen pictures, the kid was cute)

Although he has never officially been diagnosed, Simon is likely on the high functioning end of the autism scale. He isn't the first one in his class, learning and word recognition doesn't come easily to him, and reading is almost visibly painful.

But who cares about those things, really. I mean it, from the things I have seen, this doesn't seem relevant in this world. In a place where babies are left for dead or abused later, I see a light shining in Simon's story. The boy is loved, his strengths are nurtured, and everyone who meets him has a fierce and overwhelming urge to protect the innocence in him.

One night his brother was telling stories of robbers and thieves who follow you home and break into your house in the middle of the night. I noted each kids reaction. Mary was scared, asking Siya (who was telling the story) to stop. Jake teased a little more, but looked a little worried. Simon was off in his world, physically sitting next to me, but mentally light-years away. A few minutes passed and Simon finally looked up and asked;

"But aren't the robbers tired at night?"

We all looked at him, puzzled, but in agreement that yes, robbers may be tired at night. A few more moments passed and then he asked a second question;

"Siya, do you think the robbers sleep during the day and that's why they aren't tired at night?"

"Yeah, probably" was the answer he got, which seemed to satisfy him as he went off back to his world.

Side note: this was one of my first 'how did I get here moments' of my time here. It was just too funny to be sitting there right then.

That's my best example of Simon. He hates crowds of people and the business that surrounds certain events (like meal times). If he isn't in sight, you can bet he is off doing what I think looks like conducting an orchestra. In space (the sound effects make for this assessment).

He is sweet and funny and so polite. I love that little boy just a little extra because he is different and because he is special.

Simon is great at the drums, and I watched him as he closed his eyes, listening to the beat as his instructor played a new series for him to learn the other weekend. You can see the pride on his face when you give him even a small compliment, and his shy smile makes my heart swell when I see it everyday.

Simon is another example of a baby picked up out of a sad story and given a new lease on life. He is thriving in a world where he feels love and I pray his innocence will remain with him for as long as possible. I pray God will protect him and surround him with people who see how amazing he is. I hope I never forget that feeling in my chest when I see him smile, and that I am reminded of how blessed I am to be surrounded by these kids for this time.

And now for an update from the nursery downstairs, but first a couple of questions...

Who designs baby clothes? I mean, I can handle the basic onesies and tiny outfits, but some of those clothes are just plain crazy. Has anyone who has actually held a baby, never mind tried to dress one while it squirms/cries/poops everywhere, tried to also button 65 snaps in all different directions? With one hand? I didn't think so.

How many times do you think a toddler can poop while only being few a set amount of food per day? Can you imagine its seemingly 10x more then what goes in?

Its good in the nursery. I love my work and enjoy those little babes, even when they poop and it gets on me, or they stick their finger in it and wipe it on their face before I can intervene....Even then.

"I can hear your heart beating"

If I could only sum up Mary in short stories and small snapshots, I would. You would love her, as I do, in such a way that would make you feel alive. You would laugh a lot, if you knew Mary, but at the very least maybe you can read about her and know this girl is very special, very special indeed.

Mary is 7 years old. She was abandoned at birth and has never known the touch of her natural mother. I was told her story, but for privacy's sake I am choosing not to share any of the children's details here. Suffice to say, its heartbreaking.
What Mary does know are the arms who cuddled her as an infant, who held her when she got hurt as she grew, and who work hard every day to provide for her. Ruth adopted Mary and her 3 brothers from her very own ministry. She provides a safe place for abandoned babies in her home (which is where I am currently working). The little I had gathered from the internet and Ruth prepared me to meet her four kids, Mary and Jake who are 7, and Siya and Simon who are 9.
The first night I met Mary, she promptly told me:
"There are no secrets in this house", after emptying Michiel and I's pockets.
How do I start to tell you about this kid?
She runs full out for hugs and squeals in excitement over the littlest things. Her brown eyes beam when she recounts a story from the day and she frequently taps and pinches people bums, which is then followed by her excaliming "I pinched your bum!" and little girl giggles.
She sings and dances in public without a care for who is watching, but instantly turns shy if you put her on the spot, requesting a tune. Her eyes dance when she is excited and her whole body wiggles when she is delighted in something.
Two night ago I was up watching the 'big' kids while we waited for Ruth to come home. I pulled out my hard drive and we agreed that Kung-Fu Panda was a good fit for a Monday night. Mary climbed on my lap with her pillow and stretched her legs out over mine. She pointed her toes out towards mine before intertwining her legs with my own and settling into the movie.

She boasts of having 'healing hands' and loves to give out back massages. She's good at it too. She comes down to the nursery nearly every day and entertains the babies with her silly faces and uninhibited nature. Tonight she came down and was singing to a fussy S'bu. Once he settled I asked her to do the same for Thembeka who was shouting at us from her crib in a protest over bedtime. Mary, in her little way, sang and tapped Thembeak with her palm gently on the chest for over 15 minutes while I gathered the laundry and bottles to clean up. She sang to her about Jesus, and how someday she will have a home and someone will come to take care of her.

After she slowly backed away from Thembeka's crib and sported her winning smile (minus a front tooth) she came over to me and wrapped her arms around my neck as I burped a little one. She then put her ear up to my chest and listened for nearly a minute.
"I can hear your heart beating. Its going ba-boom, ba-boom", she said with a cheeky smile.
"Its saying 'I love you, Mary" I replied.
To that, Mary scrunched up her shoulders and stuck her tongue through the gap where a tooth once was. She kissed my cheek and like a little wisp, she was off to boss around her brothers.

Why talk so much about a 7 year old? Why think that its even worth putting down on paper (or screen...whatever)? Because she is beautiful. Because she is a miracle. Because she was chosen to be saved and redeemed, and taken care of. Because she shouldn't be alive, but she is. Oh, she is so alive. Because I love her and I needed a Mary in my life right when she entered. I needed good laughs, and neck rubs, and kisses, and reminders that life is so big and that if we don't let the small things invade our hearts, we will simply live day to day without the joy of God which waits for us.
Again I feel energized by being around kids all day long. I look forward to the leaping hugs and silly banter. I remember what complete abandon looks like and how I should apply it to my walk with God. I look at these kids and precious little babies through eyes that aren't my own. I plainly see how I have no idea the measure of God's love for his children. I ask Him to give me His heart for them, and a heart like theirs. For Him.

Teddie Bears, Dolls, and Rock n' Roll

Well, I don't know where to start. So many things to tell, and so many of them absolutely ridiculous unless you are a complete baby fanatic...
I have been at the orphanage for almost a month. The time has gone by quickly, actually, and I am feeling quite at home.
Life once again has brought me to a place where at times everything seems to stop while I sit and wonder to myself
'what series of events led me to this place?'
There are so many new friends to introduce, each one as different as they come. I'll stick to the babies for now, there's more than enough to be said about these tiny humans.

The day I arrived was the same day as Thembeka (the 'h' is silent). The social worker who dropped her off apparently said she doubted she was the reported 17 months old due to the fact this little girl could barely sit on her own. I was shown the nursery long after the sun set, and when I saw this little one my heart broke. Her skin was dry, spotted with fungal infections. She looked as if she had been left in a diaper for days and days, her skin puckered and oozing with sores. Worse than all of that though, were her eyes. Void of life, her small liquid black eyes stared back at us tentatively. Abandoned by her mother to a neighbor who finally couldn't take any more responsibility, this abused little baby was brought in and left at the hands of a social worker.
Thembeka cried and cried every morning when we would even start the bath, a supposed mixture of pain from her wounds and some emotional trauma. She would sit quietly for hours, uninterested in toys or even much food. She took the medicines prescribed to her without a fight, staring back at us with those empty eyes. On the third day, she smiled. It was small, and tenuous, but she smiled. We knew then that love would win in the fight for this precious one. She was chosen, out from the dirt and hands of abuse, right into arms that wanted nothing than to give her reason for that smile. What a beautiful girl.
Now, well, now nothing can stop her, as it should be for a toddler. She plays in the bath, splashing and giggling at us, licking the soap and water when I wash her face. She puts up a stink at naptime, and talks to herself in non-coherent jibber-jabber all day long. She loves to cuddle and crawls around the nursery endlessly. I love her in a way that is beyond words. So beautiful.
She's my favorite.

The other little girl is Thulile (too-lee-lay). A fat, round, big-cheeked, 3 month old. She loves attention and none of us can help but dress her in every pink onesie we can find, afterwards we wrap her in pink blankets, too. Its quite fun. She is certainly the princess of the group.
She's also my favorite.

And then there are the S'bu's, number one and two. Big S'bu is a 5 month old with a big gummy smile, (assuming you are paying all of your attention to only him) and a constant drip of drool hanging from his bottom lip. He is awake every morning when I start my day at 6am, and I am always greeted by him in his footy pajama's and little fro of hair. Oh footie pajama's, you rock.
He's my favorite.
Little S'bu is likely one of the most beautiful babies I have ever seen. He is two months old and the littlest one of the bunch. He only cries for food, otherwise you will usually catch him taking a nap while being rocked in a chair, he loves his little chair. And naps.
Totally my favorite.

So that's the crew, I'll tell more about them, but for now I will leave you with the introductions.

I'm happy here, really and truly. I needed the peace and quiet of being off the ship and away from busy port cities almost as much as I needed constant hugs and cuddles. My heart is overwhelmed with how perfect this new place is for me. I wake each morning at 5:30 to the sun rising over the sliver of the Indian ocean I can see past the hills and valleys my little cottage overlooks. I fall asleep to the sound of crickets at night and I am smothered with hugs and children looking for a lap to sit on when the older kids get home from school (more on them later). I am blessed, once again, by my wonderful God who knew this is right where I am supposed to be. I can't stop smiling.

Oh, and the reason for the title, I feel weird not tying this all together (and pictures are taking for-ev-er to laod with my limited internet here). There is a shirt I put Thembeka in whenever it is clean that says 'Teddies, dolls, and rock n' roll'. I laugh at it as I find myself relating it to my life. One night before I was getting ready to leave I had one of those 'how did I get here' moments. I was sitting down next to Thembeka and she was shaking a little red toy tambourine (her favorite toy since the first days she was here). She indicated she wanted me to clap while she shook it, and then we passed the red plastic tambourine back and forth, the other clapping to the (off) beat. You guessed it, she was wearing the shirt. My life used to look a lot different, but I still have my share of rock n' roll. Baby style.

Let the adventure begin...again

Well, we're here. Safe and soundly docked in Durban, my new home for the next 5 months.

It feels good. I had butterflies pulling into the harbor, a mix of anticipation of many sorts. Of course, after being at sea for 15 days, anticipation just to walk on solid ground is enough in itself.

Tonight I will spend my final night on the Africa Mercy, the place I have called home for the last 18 months. Tomorrow Michiel will drop me off at the orphanage, something I have been excited for since the first email correspondence with the woman there several months ago. We will successfully navigate through the city while staying safely on the 'wrong' side of the road (driving on the RIGHT side of the road is called the RIGHT for a reason, Therefore left, is wrong. Its simple(for any of those who are rolling your eyes). See how optimistic I am?

Many people have asked if I will miss it here. "Sure" I respond. I miss home too, you know. I miss my family, my friends, I miss my church, I miss a lot, but it doesn't mean I am sad, or have bad feelings about leaving and being away. I know I am in the right place. I know this life was hand picked for me. I didn't run from anything, I'm not on a quest to find myself, I am simply living by faith (and having a grand old time doing it, if I may say so).

I try and think sometimes about how many may view my life. "When will you settle down?" "Yes, this is great, but when you're done with it.....what will you do?"
I imagine these are legitimate questions, I even ask myself them, like, once a year. Maybe.

I have learned a lot on this ship. I have learned a lot about myself, about people, about a little culture I learned to love with all of my heart, and most of all a whole bunch about God. I learned that life isn't always safe, we don't always know where we will go, or what we will be called to do. I have also learned that through God anything, a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g, is possible.
Raising enough support money for a whole year in just 3 weeks? No problem.
Leaving home, saying goodbye to the people who have loved me my whole life? Not easy, but the right decision.
Finding strength to hold a mother while she clutches her baby and watches him take his lasts breaths? Yes, by His grace.
Carrying burdens that left me on the floor gasping for breaths through tears? I made it.
Packing everything I own to move off to another unknown place? Well, I have one last bag that needs to be packed, but basically, I've got it.
As if that even skims the surface.

So yes, I will miss parts of this life on board the Africa Mercy, but I am ready to go. Its time for the next chapter, time for another change. My departure notice read : Suzanne Zickell- Palliative Care Nurse/Pediatric Ward Nurse/Burkitt's Lymphoma Program Coordinator/Cook.
It was funny to me to see it all laid out like that. It makes me think of Dr. Seuss and "Oh, The Places You'll Go". I've worn a few hats, all bringing unique and different experiences. I even have calluses on my hands from scrubbing the Galley floor today!

I can't thank you all enough for making this time possible, and those of you who continue to support me while I go on with some more volunteer work. For those of you job hunting, I will let you in on a little secret. If you don't care about salary, try missions. The market is really good right now.
Really though, I truly couldn't be here without my wonderful supporters and those of you who pour out love, prayers, and your time in encouraging me.
My next place of residence and salary-free employment will be at Sinakekele Ministry. I will be working with the babies there. For those of you who know me, this will be a huge stretch. Can you imagine me day in and day out surrounded by babies?! I'll make it though, I will. For those of you who don't know me, well, hopefully you're quick in picking up my sarcasm.

From there I go to Holland for a bit, but that's another story for another day. I'll be popping in from time to time to tell you more tales. Of babies. In Africa. Clearly my favorite variety.

For now though, I will leave you with the verse my mom has prayed over my life since she knew she was pregnant with me. Yeah, she's awesome, I know.

"For I know the plans I have for you", declares the Lord. "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future".
-Jeremiah 29:11
(and mom, I packed away every magnet except the one that has this verse. I will sleep with it next to my pillow one last night here on the ship. Tomorrow I will put it somewhere new, where I can see it every day again during this next adventure)