Patience
'Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.' (Psalm 25: 4-5)
This is David's prayer for guidance, upon which I stumbled in a book last night. Anne and I have really been struggling with the slow pace at which things move here. Everything lacks a sense of urgency, and we have a hard time adjusting to that, coming from the full speed attitude of the U.S. This has been a challenge for us because we look at the situation here and all we see is the things that we want to fix or change, and we have overlooked some of the good things that are being done here. We have been focusing on the things that we are unable to do and the resistance we have faced, instead of realizing that this is not in our control. We must be patient and willing to work at God's pace, to follow His plan for our time here. For the two of us, both very goal-oriented and strong-willed, this is a hard thing to accept, but we are working on it every day. Patience. Guidance. And Diane gave us some great advice, that we must find something beautiful about each day and be thankful for that. Thank you, Diane, you're right, and Anne and I need you more than you know! My perspective is changing, and I will continue each day to find the beauty.
For example, our hospital is one of the better hospitals available to patients. It is the only hospital in the district, which means that it serves people from villages hours away. We visited one of these villages yesterday, where there is a small clinic staffed by only one nurse and an assistant. No doctors, no relief. This nurse is in charge of the clinic 24 hours every day, so the villagers know where she lives and they come to find her at night for emergencies. The clinic has two private areas, a labour ward and a recovery ward, each with only one or two beds. If a woman comes to the clinic in labor in the evening, she is then referred to our hospital, an hour drive by taxi. There is a small dispensary for medications at the clinic, which the nurse prescribes and dispenses herself. There is little treatment available at this clinic for emergencies, so anything serious must be referred. The village consists of small homes made of clay, the walls are falling apart, some with straw roofs. They have no running water and I don't think they have electricity. When we visited yesterday, my heart ached for this nurse who has been assigned here to be solely responsible for keeping this clinic running. How lonely she must be, I thought, and Anne and I have been complaining about being bored. How ashamed I feel for complaining about our living conditions when we have been so blessed here to have families to take care of us. And even though we have no running water, we still have a warm bath every day. Anne and I decided to request to spend some time with this nurse at the clinic, to help her and to show her that we care about and support what she is doing there. Yesterday, I saw the beauty in this nurse, and I hated leaving her alone there in the evening. Thank God for this special person.
So whenever we walk down the street here, we hear endless exclamations of "Obruni!!", which means "white person". Most of the yelling comes from excited children who just want to smile and wave at us. But many times it comes from men, who then proclaim their love for us and offer proposals of marriage. I had an admirer at the hospital, an older, shorter, cute man named Solomon, who would hold my hand and just smile at me for minutes at a time every day. Well, finally when he kissed my cheek, Anne said, "her husband won't like that very much!" And that was the end of the hand holding. There is something about an obruni that apparently has an effect on the men here and they will promise us their undying love forever, without even knowing our names! Rich men here take many wives, a practice that has become less common over the years, but nonetheless still occurs. One such man has proposed to Anne that she become his third wife, an offer that will include a house and a car, and whatever else she will need to be comfortable here. Of course, Anne said NO - so don't worry parents, she is still coming home unmarried. But so is the daily routine here, "I'm sorry I can't marry you, my husband just wouldn't approve".
Things are going well here at the hospital - we are continuing our efforts to recover postoperative patients, hopefully soon we'll be able to convince the staff that they need to join us. We have a baby warmer, an incubator, and a suction machine that we are planning to teach the maternity ward nurses how to use. This equipment has been sitting unused on the ward, so we have cleaned them and are planning some teaching sessions for the end of the week. We are also building a relationship with the Health Director, after spending the day with him in the OR, we are now good friends, which will hopefully work in our advantage. This afternoon we have a chance to sit in on a clinical meeting, in which the chief doctor will be teaching about stroke care. We are interested to experience an educational session here, and maybe we can get in on the action next time.
Overall, things are getting better every day, but we still have days where we feel like we haven't done a thing. I know that I must be patient, but I am concerned that we will leave here in two months feeling like there were things we could have done better. I just don't want to regret any wasted time. I have written David's prayer and I will read it every day to remind myself that I am not in control here, that God has a timeline for His plan. I will keep this in mind, my frustration levels will decrease, and I'll be able to focus on the amazing beauty of this country and its people.
This is David's prayer for guidance, upon which I stumbled in a book last night. Anne and I have really been struggling with the slow pace at which things move here. Everything lacks a sense of urgency, and we have a hard time adjusting to that, coming from the full speed attitude of the U.S. This has been a challenge for us because we look at the situation here and all we see is the things that we want to fix or change, and we have overlooked some of the good things that are being done here. We have been focusing on the things that we are unable to do and the resistance we have faced, instead of realizing that this is not in our control. We must be patient and willing to work at God's pace, to follow His plan for our time here. For the two of us, both very goal-oriented and strong-willed, this is a hard thing to accept, but we are working on it every day. Patience. Guidance. And Diane gave us some great advice, that we must find something beautiful about each day and be thankful for that. Thank you, Diane, you're right, and Anne and I need you more than you know! My perspective is changing, and I will continue each day to find the beauty.
For example, our hospital is one of the better hospitals available to patients. It is the only hospital in the district, which means that it serves people from villages hours away. We visited one of these villages yesterday, where there is a small clinic staffed by only one nurse and an assistant. No doctors, no relief. This nurse is in charge of the clinic 24 hours every day, so the villagers know where she lives and they come to find her at night for emergencies. The clinic has two private areas, a labour ward and a recovery ward, each with only one or two beds. If a woman comes to the clinic in labor in the evening, she is then referred to our hospital, an hour drive by taxi. There is a small dispensary for medications at the clinic, which the nurse prescribes and dispenses herself. There is little treatment available at this clinic for emergencies, so anything serious must be referred. The village consists of small homes made of clay, the walls are falling apart, some with straw roofs. They have no running water and I don't think they have electricity. When we visited yesterday, my heart ached for this nurse who has been assigned here to be solely responsible for keeping this clinic running. How lonely she must be, I thought, and Anne and I have been complaining about being bored. How ashamed I feel for complaining about our living conditions when we have been so blessed here to have families to take care of us. And even though we have no running water, we still have a warm bath every day. Anne and I decided to request to spend some time with this nurse at the clinic, to help her and to show her that we care about and support what she is doing there. Yesterday, I saw the beauty in this nurse, and I hated leaving her alone there in the evening. Thank God for this special person.
So whenever we walk down the street here, we hear endless exclamations of "Obruni!!", which means "white person". Most of the yelling comes from excited children who just want to smile and wave at us. But many times it comes from men, who then proclaim their love for us and offer proposals of marriage. I had an admirer at the hospital, an older, shorter, cute man named Solomon, who would hold my hand and just smile at me for minutes at a time every day. Well, finally when he kissed my cheek, Anne said, "her husband won't like that very much!" And that was the end of the hand holding. There is something about an obruni that apparently has an effect on the men here and they will promise us their undying love forever, without even knowing our names! Rich men here take many wives, a practice that has become less common over the years, but nonetheless still occurs. One such man has proposed to Anne that she become his third wife, an offer that will include a house and a car, and whatever else she will need to be comfortable here. Of course, Anne said NO - so don't worry parents, she is still coming home unmarried. But so is the daily routine here, "I'm sorry I can't marry you, my husband just wouldn't approve".
Things are going well here at the hospital - we are continuing our efforts to recover postoperative patients, hopefully soon we'll be able to convince the staff that they need to join us. We have a baby warmer, an incubator, and a suction machine that we are planning to teach the maternity ward nurses how to use. This equipment has been sitting unused on the ward, so we have cleaned them and are planning some teaching sessions for the end of the week. We are also building a relationship with the Health Director, after spending the day with him in the OR, we are now good friends, which will hopefully work in our advantage. This afternoon we have a chance to sit in on a clinical meeting, in which the chief doctor will be teaching about stroke care. We are interested to experience an educational session here, and maybe we can get in on the action next time.
Overall, things are getting better every day, but we still have days where we feel like we haven't done a thing. I know that I must be patient, but I am concerned that we will leave here in two months feeling like there were things we could have done better. I just don't want to regret any wasted time. I have written David's prayer and I will read it every day to remind myself that I am not in control here, that God has a timeline for His plan. I will keep this in mind, my frustration levels will decrease, and I'll be able to focus on the amazing beauty of this country and its people.
posted by Sarah @ 5:21 AM
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