It is sad but true. I live a life reliant on my laptop. It is my primary means of communication and I do the large majority of my work on it. I don't remember the last time I hand wrote a letter...I don't really type many of those either.
This weekend my hard drive crashed. Therefore my responses to your emails may be limited for a time and I will likely not be posting much here. I have access to computers to get must do work done, but not like I usually do.
Hope to be back up and running in a couple weeks.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
"Sun" and Mary...
Yesterday I met a woman whose name means sun. She wore a blue dress the same material that scrubs in the state are made of. Her right eye had been blinded somehow. It was obvious by the discoloration.
When I walked into the room she was standing near a counter scooping out powdered milk. She was adding water and putting it inside bottles. As I watched her she brought several small children to a padded table and began to change diapers.
I walked up on her as she changed one. The diaper was a piece of cloth. After wrapping the cloth she took a piece of plastic and wrapped it around the kids legs and waist so as to tie it around the cloth. It held the diaper on. On top of the diaper was a wooly pair of pants to keep the child warm. After watching "Sun" and my friends hold and play and care for the babies one was offered to me.
I took hold of Mary. "Sun" told me her name and said she was about a month old. She was beautiful and tiny. The small pink hat on her head was way too big and continuously rotated down over her eyes. We watched one another for some time. Finally her eyes began to appear heavy. She drifted off to sleep. I held her for a few more minutes before placing her back in her crib.
The orphanage we were at is surrounded by kids cursed by AIDS. Some of the children, from infants to 17, have the disease or its precursor themselves. Others had lost parents because of AIDS. I've heard that as many as 12 to 13 million people here are HIV positive. The children were beautiful.
We left the infants and headed for a room with many children who were probably 4 to 6. They loved us. They would surround us and tug at our hands and/or clothes. A few were fascinated with my bit of facial growth. The would rub their soft tiny hands on my cheeks and chin and lips. They seemed to enjoy the feel of our warm skin. More than one placed my hands on their own neck. They were desperate for touch; desperate for love.
They were so beautiful, I'd love to adopt a few and bring them home with me.
I met an Irish woman named Bernie while I was there. Bernie talked about how she worked hard to remove herself from the fact that they had the disease. She didn't want to become too associated with them or the real affects of their illness. It made me think about the movie Patch Adams. Robin Williams' character seemed to think that associating with the disease was therapeutic to the patient.
I just wanted to find the best way to love them. How do you love children you know are dying? Is it possible to love them the same as other children? We are promised that they are just as loved by their creator. It is hard for me to belive that some people would write off these children as sin because they are cursed with such a terrible illness. I'd like to take them to this place. I'd like them to meet Mary and the others. I'd like them too look at their beautiful smiles, and bright eyes, and little green teeth. I'd like them to smile and laugh and cry with beautiful children. Then I would like to see them leave with the realization that no matter the illness, the future of this child, or the past that has cursed them they are loved.
When I walked into the room she was standing near a counter scooping out powdered milk. She was adding water and putting it inside bottles. As I watched her she brought several small children to a padded table and began to change diapers.
I walked up on her as she changed one. The diaper was a piece of cloth. After wrapping the cloth she took a piece of plastic and wrapped it around the kids legs and waist so as to tie it around the cloth. It held the diaper on. On top of the diaper was a wooly pair of pants to keep the child warm. After watching "Sun" and my friends hold and play and care for the babies one was offered to me.
I took hold of Mary. "Sun" told me her name and said she was about a month old. She was beautiful and tiny. The small pink hat on her head was way too big and continuously rotated down over her eyes. We watched one another for some time. Finally her eyes began to appear heavy. She drifted off to sleep. I held her for a few more minutes before placing her back in her crib.
The orphanage we were at is surrounded by kids cursed by AIDS. Some of the children, from infants to 17, have the disease or its precursor themselves. Others had lost parents because of AIDS. I've heard that as many as 12 to 13 million people here are HIV positive. The children were beautiful.
We left the infants and headed for a room with many children who were probably 4 to 6. They loved us. They would surround us and tug at our hands and/or clothes. A few were fascinated with my bit of facial growth. The would rub their soft tiny hands on my cheeks and chin and lips. They seemed to enjoy the feel of our warm skin. More than one placed my hands on their own neck. They were desperate for touch; desperate for love.
They were so beautiful, I'd love to adopt a few and bring them home with me.
I met an Irish woman named Bernie while I was there. Bernie talked about how she worked hard to remove herself from the fact that they had the disease. She didn't want to become too associated with them or the real affects of their illness. It made me think about the movie Patch Adams. Robin Williams' character seemed to think that associating with the disease was therapeutic to the patient.
I just wanted to find the best way to love them. How do you love children you know are dying? Is it possible to love them the same as other children? We are promised that they are just as loved by their creator. It is hard for me to belive that some people would write off these children as sin because they are cursed with such a terrible illness. I'd like to take them to this place. I'd like them to meet Mary and the others. I'd like them too look at their beautiful smiles, and bright eyes, and little green teeth. I'd like them to smile and laugh and cry with beautiful children. Then I would like to see them leave with the realization that no matter the illness, the future of this child, or the past that has cursed them they are loved.
Hiking...
I think I've kicked the sickness. I didn't however choose the wisest way to move out of it. Last Wednesday I left the city with a group headed to the mountains. We were going to hike for 2 ½ days. It kicked my butt.
We drove about 5 hours (2 on a dirt/rock road) to one of the most beautiful regions of the country. The first day we hiked several kilometers and I will admit I was dead. I began to get really cold and got a fever again. I took a nap and some Advil and finally kicked it by morning. However the next two days I spent on horse back instead of on foot. We rode about 9 miles the second day.
I didn't realize it but we were almost done with the second day of hiking. I hiked in this same area 2 years ago. That time I tried to ride a horse. The problem was that the "horse" was about the size of an overgrown dog. I gave up on him when he nearly fell down the hill with me on his back. This time the horses were bigger, but quite stubborn.
So as I was saying we were almost done with the day's hike. The horse in front of me decided to make its own trail through some bushes. Mine followed. Then my horse decided to run me into a thorn bush. I tried to dodge by sliding to the side a bit. The saddle went with me. All of the sudden the saddle was on the side of the horse instead of the top. If I continued to hold on I was going to end up under the horse.
Instead I fell off. I landed in a thorn bush. Which sure didn't feel good. The bigger problem came with my foot. I've seen enough westerns to know that a foot stuck in the stirrup is not a good thing. Mine was stuck. I tried to jerk it loose but no luck. Finally I was able to raise the other foot and pry mine out.
Then comes the guide. Wasn't doing much of a job was he. He was about 5'6" and 125 pounds soaking wet. Yet here he comes to get the fat kid out of a thorn bush. I yelled, "Wait, Wait, Stop!" Then I directed him to a place he could be of help as I worked my way out of the thorn bush.
Almost got thrown off another horse on day three, so needless to say, I'll be staying away from the horses here for a bit.
There are some pics of the trip to the right.
We drove about 5 hours (2 on a dirt/rock road) to one of the most beautiful regions of the country. The first day we hiked several kilometers and I will admit I was dead. I began to get really cold and got a fever again. I took a nap and some Advil and finally kicked it by morning. However the next two days I spent on horse back instead of on foot. We rode about 9 miles the second day.
I didn't realize it but we were almost done with the second day of hiking. I hiked in this same area 2 years ago. That time I tried to ride a horse. The problem was that the "horse" was about the size of an overgrown dog. I gave up on him when he nearly fell down the hill with me on his back. This time the horses were bigger, but quite stubborn.
So as I was saying we were almost done with the day's hike. The horse in front of me decided to make its own trail through some bushes. Mine followed. Then my horse decided to run me into a thorn bush. I tried to dodge by sliding to the side a bit. The saddle went with me. All of the sudden the saddle was on the side of the horse instead of the top. If I continued to hold on I was going to end up under the horse.
Instead I fell off. I landed in a thorn bush. Which sure didn't feel good. The bigger problem came with my foot. I've seen enough westerns to know that a foot stuck in the stirrup is not a good thing. Mine was stuck. I tried to jerk it loose but no luck. Finally I was able to raise the other foot and pry mine out.
Then comes the guide. Wasn't doing much of a job was he. He was about 5'6" and 125 pounds soaking wet. Yet here he comes to get the fat kid out of a thorn bush. I yelled, "Wait, Wait, Stop!" Then I directed him to a place he could be of help as I worked my way out of the thorn bush.
Almost got thrown off another horse on day three, so needless to say, I'll be staying away from the horses here for a bit.
There are some pics of the trip to the right.
Friday, July 01, 2005
Sickness...
I have been sick for over a week now. I leave the house rarely and am usually am exhausted upon returning. Monday I went to see the doctor. At that point the majority of my problem had to do with stomach cramping and the trots (this is Africa; couth is dead). They gave me a plastic test tube which had a small spoon of sorts on the inside. I wasn't real comfortable with the predicament, but I didn't have a lot of options at this point.
I removed myself to the bathroom to attempt getting a little poopie in the scoopie. Now I must say this too was quite a dilemma. What do you do? Do you try and catch it on the way down? Do you wipe off with it after finishing? Where were the directions with this thing? The bigger problem began before answering these questions though. After days of not being able to stop using the bathroom...I had stage fright. Sat for a while, no luck. I decided to walk around a bit and drink some hot tea (natural diuretic). Finally I returned to the bathroom.
This time I took some friends. I remember I was listening to Sarah McLachlan on my iPod, reading Donald Miller, and praying when finally it came. I went for the catch option, missing the first flight, but thankfully catching the second.
After thanking God for his work and that of Sarah and Donald I waited for results. I found out that if this kind of test shows positive it is 100%, but if negative it might not be 100%. Mine was negative, meaning I might not have anything.I was given some Imodium (I call it a plug), charged $200 USD, and told if the symptoms persisted return for more tests. My two roommates on the other hand did have something. One had a couple creatures living in his gut, and the other had contracted malaria. Now which of us is the lucky one...at least they know what is wrong with them.
So now I'm to Friday. Not well yet, although the symptoms have changed. Now I am exhausted and feel dizzy and lightheaded all the time. Maybe I'll return to the doctor Monday. Sure hope I don't have to because I'm well by then.
Thought I'd share. Thanks for lifting up every reality of life here.
I removed myself to the bathroom to attempt getting a little poopie in the scoopie. Now I must say this too was quite a dilemma. What do you do? Do you try and catch it on the way down? Do you wipe off with it after finishing? Where were the directions with this thing? The bigger problem began before answering these questions though. After days of not being able to stop using the bathroom...I had stage fright. Sat for a while, no luck. I decided to walk around a bit and drink some hot tea (natural diuretic). Finally I returned to the bathroom.
This time I took some friends. I remember I was listening to Sarah McLachlan on my iPod, reading Donald Miller, and praying when finally it came. I went for the catch option, missing the first flight, but thankfully catching the second.
After thanking God for his work and that of Sarah and Donald I waited for results. I found out that if this kind of test shows positive it is 100%, but if negative it might not be 100%. Mine was negative, meaning I might not have anything.I was given some Imodium (I call it a plug), charged $200 USD, and told if the symptoms persisted return for more tests. My two roommates on the other hand did have something. One had a couple creatures living in his gut, and the other had contracted malaria. Now which of us is the lucky one...at least they know what is wrong with them.
So now I'm to Friday. Not well yet, although the symptoms have changed. Now I am exhausted and feel dizzy and lightheaded all the time. Maybe I'll return to the doctor Monday. Sure hope I don't have to because I'm well by then.
Thought I'd share. Thanks for lifting up every reality of life here.
