More about Mice

The other day I pulled out a rat trap for my neighbor, Sanda. I showed him how it worked and told him to keep it away from the kids. Honestly, I was not convinced that he understood my instructions. A couple hours later, I went out to talk to the ladies. I asked if they saw Sanda's new trap and they responded by showing me the rat that he had already caught. By that evening, the count had gone up to 4. And during the night, 7 more! There are still plenty of rats in the house, but the trap has become a big success. Perhaps this will be the end of the rats chewing Sanda's feet.
Another interesting comment: According to my neighbors, rats and mice only live in houses, not in traditional huts. Oh, and mice are considered good food, as long as they are caught in the forest, not in the house.

Of Mice and Feet (warning, this one is kinda gross)

-You are awake.
-I am awake.
-I want to see you.
-Here I am.
-The mice ate my feet at night.
-The mice ate your feet?
-Yes, the mice ate my feet, and it hurts badly.
-You didn’t wake up when the mice were eating your feet?
-I woke up, but they had already eaten my feet.

This is a conversation I had with my neighbor, Sanda, yesterday morning while I was tending the garden. The mice have been a continual problem in his little house. We’ve talked about solutions, including getting a cat, rat poison and traps, but none of these solutions has panned out. Lendo, Sanda’s wife, wakes up when she feels mice on her and throws them to the side. Sanda sleeps much heaver. Unfortunately, Sanda’s feet are currently paying the price. The mice have managed to chew off most of the callous and have reached the thick pad of the sole of his right foot. Though difficult to believe, the bite pattern is certainly consistent with the chewing of a mouse. The thing I don’t understand is why he doesn’t wake up.

The End of a Long Fight

While I was spending some unplanned time in the capital city, I received word that Yeye died. I’m not surprised, but it is hard to accept all the same. We’ve been caring for Yeye for the last three months. At her older brother’s request, we went to pick her up from her father’s encampment, and brought her to her brother’s encampment, just a short walk from my home. From the reports of her failing health, I expected to find a very ill child, bedbound and breathing her last breath. What I found when we showed up was a skeleton of a child, still able to walk, in spite of her severely compromised state. A quick physical exam confirmed our suspicions of tuberculosis. We expected that she would die within the week. She survived the week, though her condition was still very fragile. Each time we walked down the dirt road to see her, my ears were tuned, wondering if I would hear the sounds of the death wail as the family mourned the loss of her life. We started her on TB medications, which she could not tolerate at first, and I wondered again if she had any chance of living at all. After a short break for the sake of her weak stomach, we started the TB medications again, in addition to multiple other drugs to lessen her symptoms and improve her breathing.
A month went by, and I was amazed that her lungs, full of fluid, worked well enough to keep her alive. I was even more amazed that her greatly compromised heart continued to beat, though it was doing more than double the work it was meant to do. Her family, though they have very limited resources, cared for her the best they could.
Another month went by, and though we had seen slight improvement, Yeye declined once more as she fought the cold virus that was making its rounds in the encampment. We thought that this must surely be the end. Yet she survived even this setback.
Two weeks ago, Yeye’s brother came to tell me that she was hurting. I went to see her and found that her little heart had finally had enough. She had developed congestive heart failure. I gave her a shot of lasix to make her more comfortable and prayed that God would do his will in her life and in the lives of her loved ones. The next morning she looked much more comfortable, but she required a shot again that evening.
That night I was robbed and the decision was made to go stay with some other missionaries. On the way out, we stopped to check on Yeye. I told her where I was going and that I would be back soon. Though I didn’t expect that she would still be living when I got back, I wondered if God would choose to continue to extend her life, against the odds. He chose, instead, to allow her to die. I don’t quite understand His timing. He preserved her life for 3 months, but she didn’t live to fully understand the Gospel and its saving message. I know that God loves Yeye much more than I ever could and that He desired that she would become His child. I know that He knows best and that He does what is best for us. And I know that He is sovereign over every situation, even life and death. I don’t have to understand. I just have to trust Him and keep doing what He called me to do.
Please pray for Yeye’s family. Pray that they would see how God miraculously preserved her life during those 3 months. Pray that they would begin to truly understand God’s saving grace through the blood of His son Jesus.

Robbed in the Night

On Sunday night, the 16th of August, I had a new experience, something that is far too common among missionaries. I was robbed. Two men came to my bedroom window on that very dark night and demanded money. They claimed to be armed and threatened to harm or kill me if I did not comply. My first instinct was to pray. I prayed quite simply for help, for protection, and that I would say and do the right things. God responded by giving me all those things and by adding to it a profound peace. I complied with the thieves demand and gave them the requested amount of money, and to my relief, they left. I never saw their faces that night.
The next morning some missionary friends came to pick me up, take me home with them, and offered their hospitality for a week and a half while I debriefed and put some additional security measures in place.
On my birthday, the 26th of August, I returned with my teammate, Reda, this time with a borrowed vehicle and a night guard and supported by lots of prayers. I was surprised to find that even though I had filed a police report and the names of three suspects were known by the local community, no arrests had been made.
The very next day our friend and temporary night guard, Agustin, apprehended one of the thieves, Taya, a boy of about 16 years old. In this country justice is often served by the victim, so I was forced to take the responsibility of transporting Taya to the police station. While in town, we were also able to apprehend another of the thieves, Elese. After three days of detainment, Taya was released. Though he was involved in the robbery, he was not one of the two that were at my house that night. Another robber, and supposed mastermind of the crime, Mole, is still at large. All three of these men live only a couple kilometers from us, in a small community that we know well. They know that we are missionaries, here to help them, to bring them God’s Word, but they saw the opportunity to benefit from us by dishonest means and they took it.
Since the arrest, I have discovered that this robbery had been planned in advance, that the thieves were under the influence of both drugs and alcohol, and that I was a target because I am a single woman. I’ve also discovered that the justice system here is much different than that of North America. Much of the responsibility of justice and of physical protection is left to the victim. In fact, the victim is often charged court fees at the end of a trial, since the criminal will have surely spent all the money stolen before he is caught and will have no money to offer the court.
I’ve also discovered that all of my actions in response to this crime have consequences. If I were to simply let the thieves go, this would certainly have happened again. But since I took them in to the police, I now face unhappy family members who have threatened to practice sorcery against my immediate neighbors and who don’t understand why I cannot just forgive this violent crime instead of pressing charges.
Even through the repercussions of this crime, I continue to ask God for guidance and wisdom. I want to respond correctly to these people, who so desperately need to know Christ. I want to reflect God’s justice and grace, not human anger or vengeance. I pray that each one of these thieves would recognize their own sin and need for a savior, and I pray that their testimony would bring many others to Christ.

The Sunday that wasn’t “a Day of Rest”

Yesterday we woke up expecting a nice relaxing Sunday with an intimate church service, an afternoon nap and perhaps a walk in the rainforest. Our expectations were never realized. I slept in a bit, and after feeding the two inside cats, stepped outside to re-hang some laundry that didn’t dry the day before. I found the outside cat, Mixie, lying at the door, panting. Thinking that she is expecting kittens soon, I assumed she was about to give birth to a litter. Upon closer examination, I discovered that she had been injured by a wild animal, her injuries including a badly broken leg. So, church was postponed in order to look up feline pain medication dosages. But while in the process of researching pain medication, we had a knock on the door…
Sufayo was patiently waiting to speak with us. My heart quickened, thinking that he may be bringing bad news about his sister Yeye, who has TB (more about her later). He must have sensed my anxiety, because he had a really hard time stating his business. When he finally found his tongue, he told us that a woman had come to have her arm bandaged. We discovered that this was the same woman that we had seen a couple times about 2 weeks ago. She had come to us with a badly infected cut on her upper arm. It was already sutured, and she was taking antibiotics, but it was infected all the same. Yesterday, I was glad to see that the swelling had gone down and that our patient was much more comfortable. Since she doesn’t speak French or Baka, but only her tribal language and some Pidgin, we instructed her, in very simple English, how to wash the wound today and told her to come back tomorrow for a dressing change. I hope she understood.
Before she left, our neighbor, Angula came to tell us that his wife had an eye infection. We reminded him that we don’t do medicine on Sundays and told him to wait until our church service was over.
We gave Mixie some aspirin and went back to our little church service. We sang some songs and were in the middle of prayer requests when we heard a knock on the door…
It was Sufayo again, this time with a whole entourage of white people! You have to realize at this point that in our corner of the jungle, one rarely sees white people (except when looking in the mirror of course), so a group of 7-8 white faces was a bit of a surprise. They were French students, in Cameroon to help at a hospital and had come to greet us and see what it was that we were doing among the Baka. They got a brief explanation of our ministry and armed with the knowledge that we were in the middle of a church service, were on their way. It was already half past noon when we finally got the sermon tape going, which was entitled, “Being Willing to be Used by God.” Appropriate. It was a long sermon, so it was 2 pm by the time church was over.
Angula showed up at Reda’s door just after I left, so she was left to tend to the eye infection. She took the opportunity to also check in on a young girl with pneumonia who is visiting from another camp. She and her family have been staying with our next door neighbor for the past 3 days in order to get treatment for her illness. Lendo and Sanda, our neighbors have been very gracious to house the visitors in their 120 square foot “house” in addition to their own grandchildren.
After a quick lunch, we all came together again to tend to the injured kitty. I tried to keep her comfortable and still while Reda tended to her wounds. The boys stood by and helped by holding flailing paws and finding the needed bandages and tape. We got her cleaned up, wounds dressed, and a splint placed on the injured leg. Mixie was a good sport about it all, only trying to give me a few warning bites in the midst of all the painful meowing.
By this time, the afternoon was nearly over. We are blessed with a satellite internet connection, but it is not always reliable and we’ve learned that weekend afternoons are the best time to hook up with the rest of the world. Not wanting to miss that opportunity, we sat down to collect and send emails. I was deep into composing my emails when we realized that darkness would be falling soon and we had not yet visited our young TB patient.
We put the internet time on hold and made the short trek to see Yeye, Sufayo’s 12 year old sister, who is fighting tuberculosis. Yeye has been teetering between life and death for the last 2 ½ months while we have attempted to treat her disease with medications and lots of prayer. We were pleased that, though her condition has been getting steadily worse for the last week, she seemed to have improved ever so slightly yesterday. In addition to our patient and her family, there were also two women at Yeye’s home, strangers visiting from another part of Cameroon. One of the women, attempting to be helpful, I think, spent our entire visit instructing us on how to take care of our patient. We were happy to be able to communicate with the family in Baka, a language the women could not understand or easily interrupt.
Then it was back home to finish up the emails and start on dinner. I was cutting up some potatoes when Noah came to my window to say that a woman had been bitten by a snake…
I found the elderly woman outside, sweating profusely and quite scared. Her foot was already swelling, but she was alert and showing no signs of shock. We did our best to stop the spread of venom by using a constricting elastic bandage and electric shock, but, as we have no antivenin, that was about all we could do. For a couple of hours we monitored her pain level and vital signs, all the while concerned about her bleeding gums, which, we feared, could be a sign that the venom had reached her blood stream. There was no place for her to stay in Lendo and Sanda’s already maxed out house, so we made a place for her and a family member to sleep on our teammate’s vacant front porch.
By this time it was 10:30 pm, and neither Reda nor I had eaten dinner. I was feeling the effects of low blood sugar, so I abandoned the planned scalloped potatoes and invited Reda over for some left-over beef stroganoff. We read about snake bites in a tropical medicine book and discussed our planned action. I slipped off to bed while Reda stopped checked on our patient one more time and gave the family some nighttime instructions.

And so ends the Sunday that was not a day of rest…

Our snake bite victim survived the night, and still looked quite strong this morning, but her granddaughter, who has pneumonia, is not getting better. We were able to find a ride to the nearest hospital for both of them with our friend, Pierre, who stopped in this morning before driving to town.

Fight for Life

I remember little Yeye from several years ago when her mother was still living. A small child with the swollen belly and discolored hair of malnutrition, she was clothed in tattered rags, had a dull look on her face and was perpetually ill with fevers and ear infections. Her mother and infant sister developed TB and the whole family was treated. In a short time, her mother and sister succumbed to the disease. Yeye’s treatment was never finished.

Fast forward eight years. We received word that Yeye was very ill and were asked to go pick her up from the encampment where she has been staying and to bring her back to be with her family. I prepared for the worst and went with my teammate to assess the situation. We returned with a young lady who seemed to be on death’s door.

Yeye, now twelve years old, weighs only 20 kilograms, the same as my teammates’ preschool-age children. Tuberculosis has taken over her small frame. Her heart and lungs are working overtime, fighting to preserve life. Her skin is dry and dusky and her eyes have very little hope left in them. She has no energy to participate in the life that goes on all around her. She looks very much like a walking skeleton.

We’ve been treating Yeye for TB for 2 months now, with no noticeable improvement. We’ve been praying all the while that God would guide us and that He would heal, and we have been surprised to see that she has survived this long in her compromised state.

This week Yeye took a downhill turn. Her breathing, already quite compromised, became even quicker, and it became apparent that she had caught the cold that has been making the rounds of her small little encampment. Her poor little lungs don’t need another assault. Knowing that there is little we can do, we encouraged a good diet and lots of fluids, both of which are very taxing on a family with several other starving children. We decided that we would go see Yeye again half-way through the week.

I awoke this morning with a sinking feeling that Yeye’s condition had worsened still and a burden to pray for her. I told God that I don’t really even know what to pray any more. I’ve prayed for healing, physically and spiritually. I’ve prayed for ease of breathing, for a break from the constant work of each new breath. I’ve prayed that her family will care for her well, feed her nutritious foods and supply her with lots of water. I’ve told God that I don’t understand His ways and that I really cannot expect to understand the thoughts of the One who created all. And I’ve determined to trust Him through it all, even when it makes no earthly sense. This morning I prayed all those prayers again, with weeping and a keen knowledge that Yeye’s life hangs in the balance.

Only a couple hours after that prayer Yeye’s older brother, Sufayo, came with word that Yeye is complaining of pain in her chest and belly, that she is having trouble breathing, and that she is not eating. My heart sunk. I feared, of course, the worst. Could this be Yeye’s last day? Did we really do her any favors by treating her TB and prolonging her suffering? Did she ever see clearly the love of Christ in our efforts to heal her body?

As we prepared the necessary medications, I felt as if our efforts were futile, like I was fighting a raging forest fire with a measly little water gun. But this battle must be fought. We must be faithful to the task put before us.

I would want nothing else but to care for children like Yeye, to show them the love of Christ, to lead them to the one who gives life. But that is perhaps where I feel the most powerless. I long to share with her the love and grace and power of Christ, but I do not have the words. I cannot yet speak the language. I told God today how I want to share His Gospel of hope with Yeye and then my heart cried out, ”Lord, please give me the words!”

Yeye continues to fight weakly for life. Her heart, strained by all the work of recent months, continues to do its job, and her lungs, filled with infectious material, somehow find enough air to keep her alive. But in her eyes I see that she is tired, that she knows death may come soon.

I don’t know what our Sovereign Lord has designed to do with Yeye’s precious life. I know not whether this disease will claim her or if she will be miraculously healed; it will take a miracle. I don’t know if she will become a great warrior for Christ or if she will never know Him. I only know that my Lord is faithful and that I am called to follow His example.

Observations of a Rookie Missionary

Yesterday I went with my teammates to visit a dying woman in the encampment. Kosene had come to see us for medical help a few months ago when she developed a very severe throat infection. The infection responded very slowly to several courses of antibiotics, and Kosene began to waste away before our eyes. She was also about 5-6 months pregnant, and in her weakened state, she lost the baby. The young woman, who was once one the heaviest-looking Baka woman I had known, became nothing but skin and bones and soon required a walking stick just to get around. It became apparent to us, even without any laboratory tests, that she was in the end-stages of AIDS.
My teammates were convicted to present the plan of salvation to Kosene, with the hope that she would accept the Gospel of hope and the gift of eternal life. Even in her very weak state, she was able to understand what was being said, all except for one thing. She became very uncomfortable when the idea was presented that all people have sin in their lives. She strained to look around the room and became obviously agitated. Her response to the idea that she has sin was a very adamant “NO.” It absolutely broke our hearts to see her come to such an obvious roadblock. The question in my mind was how she could possibly believe that she had lived a sinless life. The Bible says that “ALL have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God,” and that “no one is righteous, not even one.” I went home discouraged and confused.
After sharing what had happened with another teammate, she suggested reading about the subject of the concept of sin in an animistic society in a book called “Quest for Power.” That reading gave me some insight, but no answers. In an animistic society, one cannot sin against God. One can only violate certain traditional laws or taboos. To us, these violations would look like sinful behavior, but to the animist, one is only guilty of bad behavior if they are caught. If they are not caught, keeping such behavior secret is of upmost importance. If one is not caught, then one should never admit having done something wrong, because then one can never be guilty of wrongdoing. That explains a few of Kosene’s actions to me. It explains why, when we began to suspect that she had AIDS, she would not give us any information about her unborn child’s father, to whom she was not married. To do so would have certainly caused her to be guilty of wrongdoing as sex outside of marriage is not acceptable behavior in Baka society. It also explains why she made an effort to see who was present in the room when the idea of sin was presented to her. The admission of wrongdoing in the presence of others would certainly been disastrous in her eyes.
So, how, in the light of all this, can we possibly communicate the Gospel to the Baka? Oh Lord, please give us wisdom, insight and abounding love for these dear people.

After a long break from Blogger, it is time to catch up. Though I have posted since then, I will start in December. This is a fast and furious summary what I have been up to:
December 12, 2008:
• graduated from French language school and packed up for a move across the ocean
• spent a few much needed days of rest with a couple of dear friends and then departed for a wonderful 2 week trip to Israel with my parents
December 17, 2008:
• arrived in Israel
• celebrated our Lord's birth with my wonderful parents!
• enjoyed all the sights
December 30, 2008:
• arrived in Cameroon!
January, 2009:
• some time in the capital city with the Colemans
• a visit to my home in the bush
• an annual missionary conference
• a trip to the beach for a few days
• more time in the capital city
• and finally, home!
February, 2009:
• after much effort on my part, my cargo finally arrived!!!
• a survey trip to the southernmost border of Cameroon.
March and April, 2009:
• lots of travel all over Cameroon with a wonderful group of visitors from North America
• a few weeks up in beautiful Banyo as part of my orientation
• a few days of field conference
• and HOME!
End of April, 2009:
• more orientation to missionary life in Cameroon
• Baka language learning
• medical work, saving the lives of some and watching others leave this life
May 1, 2009
• catching my breath
Who says missionary life is boring? I am looking forward to spending the next few months at home, learning language, orienting to the medical work and learning what life is going to be like for me for the next several years.

A Day in the Life…

Though this might not be a typical day in my life, I thought it would be interesting enough to share.
My day began at 2am. I awoke to the voice of my teammate and close neighbor Barry, who came to my bedroom window to warn me of an ant invasion that was already beginning to take over my house and come through the bedroom windows. There are many kinds of ants here, but one specific type, the driver ants, can be a true menace. When these insects are on the move, you don’t want to be in the way! They travel in wide trails that can sometimes be several feet wide and voraciously eat any meat that might get in their way, including living animals. The night before last, our friend Augustine lost a chicken to the ants that had come through. He, his wife, and some other close neighbors spent the whole night by the fire to avoid being eaten alive. I was a little more fortunate, as I had ample notice and was able to vacate my house before too many made it inside. I high-tailed it to the refuge of Reda’s house, where I spent the rest of the night on the couch. Barry and his wife Desma spent the night with the kids in their room, as the rest of the house was crawling with the vicious little critters. We were all a bit edgy and on-alert through the night, and every sound and movement was suspect as we kept an ear out for more invasions.
At 7am, I wearily walked back to my house and had a breakfast of oatmeal and a boiled egg. I was very grateful for my cup and half of coffee. After spending some time reading my Bible and in prayer, I headed off to Barry and Desma’s house. I was a little late for our meeting, but they didn’t mind, as they had let the kids sleep in after being awoken during the night. We sang and prayed together, and then we spent a couple hours discussing various aspects of language and culture as a part of my ongoing orientation.
Toward the end of the morning, Reda came to tell me that we had some patients under the mbanjo (a little palm leaf shelter). We saw an older man who has pneumonia and COPD, a close neighbor who has been having lots of trouble with foot sores, a young boy with a badly infected finger, his brother with a tropical skin disease called Yaws, and a young man with a dental abscess. After a bandage change, distribution of appropriate antibiotics to each one, and some patient teaching, we were done, and I headed home to research the best technique for draining a dental abscess. Then I returned to Reda’s for a delicious lunch of grilled fish and fries.
Feeling a bit drowsy, I decided it was time for some R&R. I borrowed a book from the bookshelf and settled down to read for a while. Later in the afternoon, I made a visit to Bilinga Pauline, who lives just a kilometer down the road from us. My goal was to do a little bit of language learning, and Bilinga, her sister and a whole gang of kids were glad to oblige. We talked about the ant invasion, the children, and the animals. Upon returning home, I stopped to visit with teammates and then fixed supper. Tonight we will have a team prayer meeting and then turn the satellite internet on for an hour of internet access. Hopefully we will have an uneventful and restful night

A Dusty Jog

Today I went jogging on a dusty road carved through the rainforest. For some that would be a once in a lifetime experience, and a dream come true. For me, it is a dream come true, but it is also “just life.” While we were jogging, I commented to my teammate that it sure was nice out today, and she responded by pointing out how cool it is to be able to jog through the rainforest like we do. I agree! As we ran today, I enjoyed the tranquility of birds flitting about, the majesty of some scattered remaining canopy trees and the company of a friend.
The road that leads to our house is much different than I remember it. It has not been maintained in some time, so there are large ruts, potholes and boulders scattered here and there, and the surrounding forest is fast encroaching in on it. If it were not being used at all, I bet the road would completely surrender to the rainforest in a matter of just a couple months.
Today was an overcast day. It was still warm, like it usually is here, but we did not have the dry season sun that is so common this time of year. In fact, even though it is dry season, we have had several hard rains. I think it is quite nice, as the rain keeps the dust level down, but I hope the unusual weather is not affecting the local agriculture.

What I Learned in School Today

In August of 2001 I went back to school for the express purpose of preparing for the mission field. With nursing school, support raising, mission training, French language learning, and various other trainings and activities, it has taken until now to finally be prepared enough to arrive in Cameroon. So now the learning is finished and I can start this ministry that I have been preparing for so long, right? Well, no, and yes…
Today I started reading a little booklet entitled “Language Learning IS Communication- IS Ministry!” by E. Thomas Brewster and Elizabeth S. Brewster. It talks about how important it is to learn the language and the culture of a target people group. It emphasizes the importance of taking the humble posture of a learner. As a cross-cultural missionary, I cannot pretend to know better how to speak or act in my new culture than the people that I have come to minister to. I have lots of knowledge to share, and a big part of my job here is sharing information, but I am not the ultimate authority on everything. If a foreign missionary were to come to California, he or she would have to earn the respect of those in my home town before having an effective ministry. That respect is not earned by proudly showing how much knowledge one has, but by placing value and importance in the language and the culture of local people.
So my job, as a foreign missionary is to be a learner, for now and forever. No matter how proficient I become in Baka, no matter how many years I am here, no matter how well I do my job, I will always be an outsider and I must always take the posture of a learner. My hope is that by taking that humble posture, I will show God’s love to those around me.

Surrender

In September, as I started another school year with 30 other French language students and 45 Bible school students, I attended a chapel as I did each week. Mark brought us a challenge; to be completely surrendered to Jesus Christ. He showed us a yellow piece of paper taped to the inside back cover of His Bible which said, “All that I am… all that I have… all that I hope to become… I consecrate now and forever to the Lord Jesus Christ for His glory and for His service, completely and unconditionally.” It was signed and dated and served as a reminder of the commitment that he made to Christ many years ago. I had made the same commitment to Christ long ago, but God was prompting me to renew my vow once more. So, I picked up a small piece of yellow paper from the front of the classroom and sought out two witnesses to sign it with me. It was then tucked away in my Bible. Frequently I pull that little piece of paper out and read it over, many times with tears in my eyes as I think about the fact that the sacrifice of my life is so small in comparison with the reward of being a child of God. The day I left Quebec, I found that pledge tucked snugly next to Psalm 34. With tears streaming down my face I turned to the two young ladies who had signed the little yellow paper with me, and I said with trembling voice, “today I live this.” Even now, as I write this, my heart is filled with so many emotions. I am heartbroken to have left so many places and so many dear people. I am overjoyed to have finally arrived in Cameroon after years of preparation. I am intimidated by the task of learning Baka language and culture. I am comforted to be part of an amazing team of missionaries. And though I can be so unfaithful, I am amazed at God’s faithfulness and love.