Miscellaneous Pictures

Soursop. My favorite new fruit that I've tried since I've been here Learning how to suture on oranges. Not sure what I was examining so closely

Learning suturing on oranges, the right set of sutures is a horizontal mattress suture, the one on the left is a figure eight suture
Believe it or not, the social worker showed the RN up on suturing! That's what I get for not being the one who sews things regularly like Alexis does.
My sister's pet that she has been crying for since she arrived. The cat has not been named as of yet. Although Mephibosheth was suggested because he keeps falling off things and huting his legs.
Since the frog didn't turn into my prince I decided to try a crab that we found. Needless to say, it wasn't sucessful either!

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be monkeys!

One of the mission planes taking off from the airstrip on campus. I can't wait until the pilot and his wife and daughter who are going to live in the house on our airstrip move down here so we will have a pilot flying out of our campus.

A young iguana. These little rascals like to get into our garden and eat up our food, so we catch them when we can and relocate them far, far away
My sister and I at the January birthday celebration for Rondell and Kimberly. We always have yummy food on birthdays, this time we had homemade mango ice cream, good stuff!

A premature baby boy that was miscarried. The intrecuit features were amazing in a baby that tiny!

World War Bats

Almost since I first arrived here in my jungle abode, we have had several house guests living in the far reaches of our rafters. An invitation to inhabit our roof was never secured by these individuals. They moved in without consulting anyone, brought several family members with them, and proceeded to prove themselves to be most unwelcome. But I suppose not much more can be expected from them, since after all, they are just bats.

In the beginning, they were able to dwell in our midst with little interference. Only from time-to-time would we hear the scurrying of little feet on the rafters above us, or perhaps an occasional squeak would echo down to those of us living down below. A few times they came down to investigate those of us who occupied the lower quadrant of their building, and once I attempted to catch one of the little creatures for closer examination but he managed to escape.

As time went on however, these little creatures became more at home, and soon began to go beyond the boundaries of what is considered proper etiquette for cohabitation.

Each night, after the sun would set, and darkness hastened to settle its cloak on our jungle home, these little creatures would begin to stir from their long, hard day of sleeping. Now any normal bat knows that with night, comes the responsibility of exiting their daytime sleeping quarters and venturing forth to devour pesky insects. These bats, however, appeared to be delinquents. As night fell and they yawned and stretched, instead of leaving they found great pleasure in holding midnight rafter parties and inviting their many delinquent friends to join them.

While the rightful occupants of the jungle home below tucked in their mosquito nets and shut their eyes in an attempt to sleep, the upstairs delinquents would begin to create quite the racket. They would chatter loudly amongst themselves, and inevitably before the night was over involve themselves in loud debates that sometimes progressed to all out wing-to-wing combat. Other times, judging by the sounds issuing forth from above, I would wonder to myself if they were perhaps attempting to further populate our rafters with their offspring.

In an attempt to apologize for any inconvenience, these creatures would leave peace offerings on the floor each night for their lower neighbors to discover in the morning. But they quickly found that their offerings were not appreciated properly, so they began to leave the ungrateful individuals below even more of their presents to spite them. They would hear the other occupants mutter to themselves about the mess they were leaving below, and they even heard threats of removing them from their delightful living accommodations. But after many days of hearing such threats with nothing happening, they grew complacent and continued their nightly parties.
Then one day, the individuals who lived below decided that enough was enough and immediate action must be taken. So two of these occupants procured a ladder, a broom, and a generous helping of thorny branches and hastened to evict their unwelcome house guests.

The ladder was erected, battle lines were drawn, one climbed the ladder equipped with the broom while the other shimmied up the window and took up post in the rafters, the little creatures were surrounded, and chased toward the only exit. Despite several attempts on the part of the delinquents to hide themselves and avoid being evicted, the lower occupants prevailed.

One-by-one, the delinquent bats were spurred to hasty flight, and thorns were placed at the entrance to the roof to prevent re-population. Finally, on the other end of the roof peak more thorns were placed as well to prevent any sneak entries through back entrances.

And the lower occupants are hoping to live happily ever after, free from midnight bat squabbles, and floors covered in bat guano.

Old Jungle Tales

For as far back as I can recall, I have loved stories. I was so anxious to start reading that, when my mom said I was too young to learn to read at the age of four, my older sister started “playing school” with me and teaching my how to read the curious black strokes found in books. When I surprised my mom a few months later by picking up one of those old reading primers and loudly reciting the words from off its pages, she was finally convinced to continue my literary education. Since that time I will ravenously devour in record time any book that I find to be interesting.

Growing up, one of my favorite stories, were the old classics by “Dr. Rabbit” better known as Eric B. Hare. I loved to listen to my mothers voice as she read the exciting tales of jungle tooth extractions, men who were bored by elephants requiring emergency reassembly of intestines and other organs, and many other breath-taking tales that inspired my young mind. I remember the oft repeated phrase “Please! Just one more chapter!” and how that “one more chapter” often times turned into two or three. Looking back, I think that these stories were probably one of the first things to inspire me to want to do medical work in the jungle one day.

So here I am, living my long ago dream of jungle work, and the stories of my childhood have surfaced again. One day as I was browsing the small selection of books that makes up our school library, I chanced upon a such a prized treasure. A book entitled “Treasure from the Haunted Pagoda” by “Dr. Rabbit.” Delighted by my discovery I then hatched a brilliant idea to have a 15-20 minute story time each night with my girls to read to them some of the stories that I fell in love with so many years ago.

The first night, after reading chapter one, I too heard the familiar cry “Please! Just one more chapter!” and I smiled to myself recalling my own story times so long ago. As I read through these familiar stories, I find it hard to believe that now, more than 10 years later I am living the experiences that I dreamed of so long ago.

Another Medical Mission

Our morning of visitations and Bible studies were over, and we had managed to obtain a ride up the river in the direction of the school without much waiting. As we motored along on the water the skies that had been intermittently pouring rain all morning only released a soft sprinkling of liquid. Some of the occupants of the jungle homes we passed could be seen washing clothes in the river, or performing other daily activities.

Passing one such house, we were waved over by an young girl. I was not surprised since many times people will solicit rides up or down the river as motorboats pass by their docks. When we reached her, however, she quickly said to our driver, who was the husband of the village health worker: “Tell Mona that mama lost her baby the bleeding won’t stop because the afterbirth hasn’t come out!”

Our boat began heading up the river again, this time a little faster than before. Then, around the next bend in the river, we saw another boat heading in our direction and upon seeing me in the boat the occupants began to shout at me. As they drew closer I recognized Ramona, the health worker, my sister, and two of my students who had been working in the clinic for the day, along with a young girl, who had been sent to the clinic to give Ramona the same message we had just been given.

Quickly I jumped ship and headed back in the direction we had just come from, back to the little jungle house to see what we might find. Ramona told me she had brought along an injection to help stop the bleeding, and blood pressure cuff and a single pair of gloves. I hoped we wouldn’t need much more.

As we docked at the house Ramona and I quickly headed up the bank, up the stairs, removed our shoes, then entered the small wooden structure. “Where’s Roxy?” she asked the daughter, and we were pointed to a small bedroom. Pushing open the door I saw her. Lying on the far side of the room in the small space between the bed and the wall, facing the corner in only a shirt with a couple rags thrown down between her legs to catch the blood.

She looked up at us as Ramona greeted her and began to ask her a barrage questions: about how long ago she had lost the baby -- 2 hours; how far along her pregnancy was -- 3 months; was she still having contractions -- no; and other such queries that we medical persons enjoy hurling at people.

Meanwhile I donned the gloves and positioned myself in the corner between her legs in order to assess her and visualize what we were up against. I noted that, thankfully, the pool of blood on the wooden floor was not excessive, her color was still good, and she was coherent and talking without difficulty. I gave Noelia, one of my students, the task of taking her blood pressure, and was happy to find that it was normal. I didn’t see any sign of the afterbirth, but noticing some bleeding I began to massage her uterus hoping to encourage her uterus to begin contracting again in order to spur the exit of the placenta. I asked Alexis to position herself with Roxy’s head on her lap so I could have her assist me by pushing, and then requested that Natoya, my other student, offer a prayer for help in our efforts.

Soon it appeared that our efforts were being rewarded as I saw part of the umbilical cord emerge, but since the rest of the placenta was not forthcoming, I moved on to plan B. I had Alexis massage her uterus, and while she pushed, I gave the cord some small tugs, still nothing. I tried to visualize the placenta, but couldn’t. I tried to feel the placenta, but couldn’t. I was really beginning to wish for a speculum, and perhaps, based on what I found, a pair of forceps. We continued our current method without success. Then suddenly, the small portion of cord that I had to work with tore, and I was left with nothing.

By this time the bleeding seemed to be worsening, so I had Ramona give the injection. I began again to try to get a better visual of the location of the elusive placenta, wishing even more for the assistance of a speculum. I attempted to improvise with my two index fingers serving as the speculum, but they served me very poorly. I asked for a light, and after nearly 10 minutes was brought a flashlight, but upon turning it on all that was revealed was a nearly dead battery.

Running out of ideas with our present tools (or lack thereof) Ramona asked her husband, who had joined us again by this time, to take the boat back up to the clinic to gather a working light, and the tray of surgical instruments that would include forceps. The rest of us waited, and waited, and waited, for what seemed like an eternity to me.

I was happy to see that the bleeding had decreased again, and Roxy’s blood pressure remained stable. While we waited, we discussed our next plan. Natoya would hold the light, either Ramona or I would act as the make-shift speculum while the other used the forceps to remove the placenta if need be. I decided that if we moved Roxy up on the bed it might make it easier for us to work, so plastic was laid down over the foam mattress, and she stood up and repositioned herself on the bed.
By the time, the boat was finally back, with our desired instruments, and we got ready to implement our plan of action. The light illuminated our labors, and I readied myself to act as speculum, but this time, when I placed my fingers into the birth canal I felt something obstructing my way. There, ready to be delivered, was the placenta. Apparently, as Roxy moved from the floor to the bed gravity aided us in detaching the placenta from the uterine wall and carrying it toward its exit.

After two more pushed by Roxy, and a little coaxing with my hand, the troublesome placenta was out at last, and the bleeding still remained minimal. I sent up a prayer of thanks to God, as I examined the placenta to be sure that it was intact, and no pieces remained to cause further bleeding and trouble. We cleaned up Roxy and the bed as best we could, and re-checked her blood pressure, which remained perfectly normal.

As we were preparing to leave, Roxy’s daughter brought in a tiny bundle, the premature stillborn baby boy. As I gazed at this miniature wonder of human life, I was amazed yet again at how truly amazing God is. To see the perfectly formed, hands, toes, knee cap, bones, nose, and everything else in such small proportions reminded me of the words of David “I will praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”While my heart aches for the loss of this mothers unborn baby boy, I can’t help but be filled with awe at this revelation of God’s handiwork. Yet I look forward to the day when “God shall wipe away all from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.”

Random News and Happenings

~This past week we had 6 people from the States on campus for a couple days. Two couples who both had a little daughter, and two other guys. All the guys are pilots and one of the couples is planning to come down to live on campus and fly out of our airstrip as soon as their house sells. Its been nice having them all here, and I hope Kyle, Shelly, and their daughter Nova come soon. I've really realized how much I miss flying.

~Today on the taxi ride back from G-town, where I was picking up another volunteer, I got a rather extensive cooking lesson from our little East Indian driver. I'm planning to try some of the recipes out that he verbalized to me. He was such a nice guy, one of the nicest taxi drivers I've met yet.

~We've finally been reaping the fruits (and vegetables) of our labors recently in the garden. The last 2 weeks we have been picking the sweet corn we planted, it has been excellent. We've been having lots of bora (long green bean like vegetables) recently, makes a nice addition to soups, and sauces, and even steamed and seasoned. The pumpkins are growing, and soon we will be having pumpkins coming out of our ears. Soon we should be having cabbage, lettuce, tomatoes, and peppers. I just wish the fruit trees would start bearing soon. They've been planted for several years and just this year we got about 4 pineapples...I would like them to hurry it up a little.

~I really miss playing the piano. Electrical keyboards aren't the same, and don't quilify. I think by the time I finally have a piano to play regularly I will forget most everything that I ever knew.

~Every time I go into G-town, it just helps me to appreciate more the peace of our campus. Although the internet is wonderful, the city gets old very quickly. The interior is such a wonderful place to be.

~Traveling to other countries and different cultures is such a wonderful experience, and also a learning experience. I think everyone should try it, and chances are it will get in your blood and you won't be able to stop.

~The second Bible worker for Mashabo just got here today. I'm so happy that we'll have full-time workers there now, the village will really benefit from them. Now we just need a mission house for them to stay in, hopefully a group will be coming to help build it in March.

~Having my sister here with me is the so nice. She really likes the campus, and everyone is glad that she is here, but most of all I am glad that she is here. I like to crawl into her mosquito net at night right before I go to bed so we can talk for awhile. Its nice to be with her since we've been in such different places for the last few years and barely get to see each other.

~Rainy season is almost over. Its nice that we are starting to have more sun during the day to charge our batteries for the electrical system, and to pump our water. It does mean, however, that we will have to start watering the garden again sometime soon. Thankfully Michael is working on quite the watering system design.

Prince Charming that Wasn't to be

Once upon a time, away over in our jungle home, we stumbled across an enormous toad in the dark of night. As we examined his warty exterior, snatches of old fairy tales flitted through our mind. This was the result...

The first reaction of one young lady bordered on disgust and repulsion. She quickly cast the animal aside and left it to the others...Upon seeing the rather ugly toad, the next young lady (I wouldn't want to stretch this tale by calling her a princess=) eagerly snatched it into her hands. She was overjoyed to have found such an animal. Immediately she wondered if this could be her handsome prince...

Before much further adeue she decided to find out if it was in fact a handsome prince disguised as an ugly toad...
As her lips touched those of the toad...well quite frankly, nothing happened. All too soon her hopes were so cruely dashed, she couldn't help but wonder what might have been...
You can be sure that this young lady will not be so quick to believe fairy tale's in the future, prince charming is probably not even out there...

The End

A Tippy Canoe and Mashabo Too

It is Thursday morning, outreach day, the first since school resumed last week after the break. The choice of which village to spend the day in was unceremoniously left up to each individual’s discretion. The result: all but three individuals opted to go to the nearer village of Bethany. The irony: they would be riding the tractor the shorter distance of two miles. Our story, however, is not about the other ease loving individuals, Alexis included, but rather about the three who walked the longer trail of five miles to Mashabo.

Since it is rainy season out in the jungle, it was no surprise when, ten minutes into their walk the saturated clouds began to unload some of their liquid burden. These three simply procured their umbrellas, or rain jackets, as they continued their hike, chatting amiably about their Christmas vacations.

The rain stopped just before their arrival in Mashabo, where they were greeted with friendly waves, hugs, happy greetings, and cries of pleasure at their return from weeks away.
Then one of the young ladies decided that the only logical thing to do would be to cross over the lake that intersected the village, dividing it into two parts. After careful consideration it was decided by the three that if there was a boat available to take them across they would cross the lake, if not they would visit the houses on this side of the lake.

To the delight of the three young ladies, there was in fact an engine boat down on the lakeshore, preparing to cross over to the other side. They quickly secured passage, and soon were safely on the other sandy shore. These three young ladies proceeded to the houses of some of their friends in this side of the village, sharing words of encouragement, small talk about how the holidays were spent, and prayers.

Too soon it was time to begin the hour-and-a-half walk back to the school, so that Kimberly would not miss her class in the afternoon, and off they trekked back to the lakeshore. They quickly discovered that there was not a single boat to be seen. Unless, that is, you counted the large boat sitting half pulled up to shore that was half filled with water with a gaping hole in the side. It was decided that one of the ladies would go back up to the nearest house to inquire if a boat might be coming soon, but that proved to be fruitless since no one was home.

As the three sat pondering what to do, they saw two small school boys paddling out on the lake in a small dugout canoe. Then they saw the two boys heading in their direction. When the boys were closer they pulled into some reeds and emerged each in their own canoe, one of the two paddling his canoe with his hands since they only had one paddle between them. The three young ladies were to be rescued by two small boys!

One of the canoes was larger, and everyone thought it would be the best possible option to fit everyone. Even though the dugout’s stability appeared somewhat questionable, two of the young ladies climbed aboard, sitting on the only two small seats, ant the third gave the canoe a healthy push from shore before climbing into the bow of the second small craft.

Before the boat had traversed more than two feet, almost in slow motion, it unceremoniously tipped over. While two of the young ladies managed to jump to their feet without getting too wet, since the water was still only knee deep, the third received a thorough dousing to her backside. The little boy sitting in the stern nearly fell over with laughter. It appeared that the group must take a different approach.

The boat was dragged ashore, its hull-full of water dumped out, and it was made ready for crossing yet again. This time it was decided that one of the young ladies would cross in the other, smaller, canoe with the other boy, and two of them would attempt to cross in the same boat again. As the boat was being emptied the smaller boat seemed to have much success, although the small boy was paddling with his hands, they made progress rather rapidly toward the other shore.

Meanwhile, the other two were preparing to embark yet again on their journey to the other shore, somehow thinking that swimming across might be much faster and easier. One of the girls climbed into the boat, while the other, again, began to push the boat away from shore. The boat made it a whole two feet further this time before again lurching to the same side and filling with water, delivering another wetting to the already wet young lady.

Again the boat was dragged onto the shore, and the process of expelling water from the interior was repeated. Then, as the two young ladies were deciding what to do next, their dialogue was interrupted by a high pitched scream, followed by a splash. There, in the middle of the lake, they saw two heads bobbing up-and-down, attempting to flip their boat back over, and Kimberly holding her bag over head in an attempt to keep its already wet contents from getting any wetter. Despite their sympathy, the other three sailors on the safety of shore, couldn’t help but burst out into laughter until their sides began to ache.

In the middle of the mêlée a larger paddle boat was seen moving toward the two flailing individuals. It picked up the young lady before heading toward the other two on shore, leaving the poor boy to climb back into the small canoe, half filled with water, and begin to paddle back to shore with his little hands.

When the boat arrived, it transported the three young ladies across the lake, without anymore watery incidents. We arrived on the opposite shore an hour after we should have started our trek back to school. As the three waved goodbye to their small rescuers they had no doubt that the two boys would have quite the story to amuse their schoolmates with about trying to cross the lake with the white girls.

Our trip in Pictures

We missed our flight in Miami so we had to spend the day there. Let me tell you, it took alot of self control for me to "have" to go to the beach, but somehow I managed =)

My sister feeding the seagulls the leftovers of our yummy Cuban food lunch
My sister enjoying a yummy mango the day that some of the school went to pick some free mangos that a church member offered us. Tropical fruit is delicious!

Our afternoon spent in Supanaam waiting the head up to the school

Two of the Amerindian girls from church

One of the friendly visitors that resides in our bathroom. Isn't he adorable?

Footsteps into Guyana...again

As we stepped off the plane into the blackness of the night, I could smell the familiar scent of rain hanging in the air around me. The wet pavement glistened with water in the light escaping from the plane behind me. As I breathed in the clean smell of the air, while feeling exhausted from little sleep and travel, I couldn't help but also feel entirely happy to be back in this country, that in three short months has stolen my heart.

Behind me, my sister struggled with her heavy backpack, and I wondered what she would think of this country with all its varied people, landscapes, and nuances. I thought about how this arrival was so different than my first introduction to Guyana. Rather than watch from the windows as we passed green fields, local houses, emense rivers, and richly green trees, all we could see out of our windows was blackness until suddenly the lights of the runway appeared beneath us. I was happy that she was here with me, and I hoped that she would enjoy her experience.

We quickly passed through customs, collected our bags, and found a taxi. As we hurdled down the road toward Georgetown, and the mission house where we would spend the night, I couldn't help but recall my first encounter with driving here. Now, nothing usually phased me, as we drove in the darkness toward our destination. The spedomitor on the car hung at zero, so I had no idea how fast we were driving as we whipped around curves, and drove mostly in the middle of the road since there was little traffic at 3am.

Finally we arrived at the mission house. I was praying that someone was staying there, and that the door would be left open since I hadn't had the chance to make a copy of the key for myself before leaving in December. My prayer was abundantly answered, not only were people staying at the mission house, but both rooms were full, and someone was asleep in the larger living/dining room/kitchen area. I managed to quietly procure the last matress from one of the rooms along with a mosquito net (which we quickly decided against using since it was so hot) without waking the slumbering occupants. So my sister and I both crowded onto a single mattress for what remained of the night.

The next morning she was introduced to the fun of the market place as we bought some fruit for breakfast, and I suggested some delicious roti and channa (seasoned chick peas in a tortilla-like fried bread) she was immediatly hooked. Another hit was the cold coconut water that can be purchased on street corners. All-in-all we had a delicious breakfast, then it was time to head out to the school.

A bumpy mini bus ride, followed by an even more bumpy river crossing brought us to the village of Supenaam where we met some staff and students from the school. Then we proceded, in perfect Guyanese fashion, to wait the rest of the afternoon and into the hours of darkness for the rest of our enturage to arrive before we could head up the remaining river to the school. It seems to be a trend to make this journey in the pitch black of night for all new individuals traveling to these parts for the first time, and this time proved no different. After we arrived at the dock, we discovered that the tide was too high so our tractor would not be able to make it over the bridge for several more hours so either we would have to wait, or we would have to walk the 2 miles to school. Since it was already nearly 9pm we decided to walk, so after leaving our suitcases at some church members house in the village, we set out with our backpacks. It appears that my sister would get an even more thourough initiation into jungle living that even I did on my first day arriving.

Go Light Your World...

Here's a video I made about my school.

Journeys to Georgetown

Today I am back in Georgetown, it is my first trip back here since I arrived in September. Anca, Kurt and I came for a 2 day ASI lay evangelism training program, our objective: free DVD players that we can use and donate to the different villages in our area that need them.

The ride across the immense Essequibo river was the roughest I’ve yet to encounter. I’ve discovered since my arrival here that there is no need for roller coasters or water parks in the mission field, at least not here in Guyana. We climbed up and dropped down waves on the choppy water so many times that I was sure my liver and stomach changed places several times, before coming to rest on the opposite side of my abdomen from whence they began. Along with each rise and fall of the boat I inevitably got wet, whether it was just a little spray, or a total dousing of water in my face. Thankfully the canvass provided in such boats helped to some extent, but by the time we arrived at our destination I had already had my shower for the day. Looking on the bright side, it will save me time later tonight!

Then came the always entertaining experience of driving from the river to Georgetown. Along with the usual clutter of vehicles, pedestrians, donkeys, mopeds, cows, geese, horse drawn carts, bicycles, goats, and school children to dodge in the streets. It never ceases to amaze me, as we weave in and out to avoid the many obstructions on the street, that I still haven’t seen any accidents take place. I love watching the people and the interesting city happenings as we drive. We stop at a school crossing, and the school kids stare at us “white people” then smile and wave, I return the smile. We drive past roadside vendors with carts piled high with oranges, mangoes, bananas, and coconut. I see Hindu temples with their colorful shrines out front, an Islamic high school with a courtyard full of young ladies in uniforms with white hijabs covering their heads, and even pass a sign that states “SDA church.”

Finally we arrive in the marketplace where we’ll catch our last minibus to the mission house. It is crowded with people, animals, motorcycles, and of course many minibuses painted ever color imaginable. We try to stay together in the jostling crowd of people as vendors shout at us the value of their wares, and taxi drivers yell and try to get us into their vehicles. We pass several men loading huge pieces of freshly cut cows into the back of a truck, nearby the entire cow hide, including the tails are draped over a trailer, the underside still red with blood. We continue past other carts with fresh fruits piled high, and carts carrying baked goods and other foodstuffs, my stomach rumbles hungrily since I didn’t eat lunch, but we continue on. Finally we board a minibus going in the proper direction, and we are off. Stopping at random intervals to pick up and drop off passengers, alternating between being crammed in tightly and actually having a little space as people come and go.

At last we arrive at the mission house where we’ll spend the night. We unload our things, clean up from our travels, and meet some other missionaries from another village who are also here for ASI. Then, wonder of wonders, for the last 45 minutes before we leave for the meeting I get the wonderful experience of high-speed (what is that again??) free internet from the hotel next door. Internet is such a beautiful thing, especially when it is working

River Travels

In our part of Guyana, the river is an integral part of our lives. It is our interstate, many times the only way to get from one point to another; or at the very least the shortest way. Cars are nearly non-existent in this area, instead families own boats. Something I discovered early on, is that the river rises and falls with the tide. When I first arrived I was able to step from the boat directly onto the dock, but the next time I was down at the river I was surprised to see the water so low that we had to climb down the steps onto another boarded ramp to get into the boat.

Riding up or down the river in our mission boat we pass smaller wooden dugout boats with dinky outboard motors, young school children paddling together to school, large lumbering flat barge type boats carrying logs down river to the sawmill, and many other miscellaneous boats being paddled or motored up and down the river. Some carrying goods to the market, others returning from the larger village with supplies, boats carrying families, or being paddled by a single individual, boats of many different shapes and sizes.
As we travel the river we are greeted by friendly waves from the passing boats. The shore is interspersed with stilted wooden houses, some with tin roofs and others with thatched roofs, but all with docks leading up from the river. At many homes the members can be seen bathing off the docks, or washing their clothes on the steps of the dock that lead down into the water, they always wave to us as well.

During our trips on the river we may glide along the glassy, unbroken water that stretches out before us, perfectly reflecting the trees and clouds, other times we bounce and jolt over wakes caused by other motorboats. We may travel in the cool mist of the morning before the sun has broken over the green canopy for the day, or head home in the gathering darkness after the sun has long since set. We travel on large rivers where the distant shore appears almost absent on the horizon, on smaller rivers that are lined with coconut trees, houses, and thicker jungle, and at times up even smaller rivers where we seem to be enveloped in jungle above and on either side or us. At times we see beautiful displays of color in sunsets, other times all that is visible above is menacing clouds and we hope we arrive at our destination before the next deluge of rain begins to pouring from the skies above.

Many times we are not lucky enough to evade the rain, so everyone quickly ducks under canvass coverings trying to keep their belongings dry, and as many body parts as possible out of the pouring rain. Then as the rain stops heads begin to emerge from under the canvass and sometimes are greeted by a brilliant rainbow as we continue our journey along the river that seems to stretch endlessly ahead, promising some new discovery around the next bend. Or perhaps just the arrival at our destination.

A Jungle Thanksgiving

Ah, Thanksgiving. That word alone conjures up multiple sights, smells, feelings, memories, and traditions. When I think of Thanksgiving, many things come to mind. Waking up early, and spending all day in the kitchen with my mom and sister making all kinds of good food, trying to sample the foods we were making without being scolded by my all-knowing mother, and then a delicious feast with all our family that always ends in groans of satisfied over-fullness. I remember my dad’s tradition of always going around the table and asking each of us what we were most thankful for, and the afternoon spent walking, throwing a football around, or maybe playing some other game in an attempt to alleviate our stuffed bellies.

This year, however, Thanksgiving was bound to be different. For one, it would be my first spent in the jungle, not to mention the fact that I was one of only four other North American individuals who would appreciate such an occasion. It didn’t help that the warmly humid weather lent itself to the illusion that it was summer, rather than nearly the first of December.

As the holiday approached, the four of us Thanksgivians got together to decide what we would do for the special occasion. We made a list of traditional dishes we would be able to make, green bean casserole was sadly omitted, as was any type of vegetarian turkey (we couldn’t bring ourselves to desecrate the dish by attempting to make it out of TVP). The list quickly took shape: stuffing, mashed potatoes, candied yams, fresh rolls, I offered my two cans of Fri Chick that I had been stashing for just this occasion, others contributed dried cranberries to be boiled and made into cranberry sauce, homemade peach and blackberry jam brought from the States was added to the list, and most important of all, pumpkin pie, the delicious kind, complete with real cinnamon. We also put together our shopping list of special items to get in town. Our plan was to make the general meal for everyone, but have our dinner together at Michael and Lauren’s house complete with our special contributions.

Finally the big day arrived, since we still had our usual day of outreach, we had to do the cooking in shifts. In the morning Lauren boiled the potatoes, and yams, and dried the bread squares I had baked the night before. My turn came after lunch, since I was at the clinic all day with the students for outreach. It was my task to finish the marathon cooking session and put together all the different dishes, and man did I have a great time!

As the food came together, the familiar smells of thanksgiving began to accost my nostrils. The pumpkin pie filled the kitchen with the delicious aroma of cinnamon, and pumpkin and several times I had to stop what I was doing to simply breathe in the lovely scent. The stuffing also permeated the air with its savory odor, and I was already feeling the Thanksgiving spirit. I even got to sample my creations without being scolded, but somehow I could hear my mom’s voice somewhere within the far reaches of my mind.

Dinner time finally came, and it was time to partake of our feast. We gathered in Michael and Lauren’s small jungle home, that Lauren had decorated with a fall theme. Five of us were present, Michael, Lauren, Anca, and I from North America, and Saray from South America, here to celebrate together with a bountiful meal to make our own Thanksgiving memories. The table set for 5, complete with two candles, and the small table of food piled high with special treats. It was almost possible to forget we were in the jungle, and almost feel that if we looked out the window we would see bare trees, grey skies, and maybe even a few flurries of snow beginning to fall.

Our meal was absolutely delicious, everything tasting as it should taste for Thanksgiving. And in keeping with tradition, we thoroughly stuffed ourselves making it impossible to fit any desert in our full bellies without first taking a walk through the already dark jungle out onto the airstrip. After returning to the little home, we savored every last bite of pie and tropical fruit salad, despite still feeling like our stomachs were near bursting. As we ate our desert we laughed, talked, and played games completing the evening of celebration.

So my first international Thanksgiving spent in another country, immersed in another culture, proved that tradition can be celebrated in many new ways. I am sure that this is only the beginning of memories that I will make in overseas holiday adventures wherever God may take me.

The Result of Tears

Two years ago there was a young girl living in the jungles of Guyana. She was 18 years old, and had 2 young children, the smallest only a few months old. This young girl felt so utterly despondent and hopeless one day that she decided the only possible escape was suicide. She managed to procure a deadly jungle herb, and cooked it into a poison then drained the cup and prepared to breathe her last.

Through a string of providential circumstances, a missionary nurse and the local health worker were able to intervene. The young girl was given charcoal, to bind the poison, then rushed to the hospital. She became violently ill, but miraculously did not die, and 2 days later walked out alive.
After this young girl returned, the missionary nurse and the health worker visited her in her home. As they talked with her, she opened her heart with them and told them her struggles while she cradled her tiny baby in her arms. The situation and the story moved them to tears, and the young girl unashamedly cried along with them.

For the next few weeks the missionary nurse visited the young girl faithfully, checking up on her, and trying to keep her encouraged. The girl improved physically, and mentally, and soon the visits were no longer necessary.

Two years later, a group of students are beginning their weekly outreach up and down the river. At the top of the river they stop at the very first house, and are greeted by a young woman named Ashana* and invited in. As they explain the purpose of their visit, to study the Bible, her eyes light up and she invites the group in. For over an hour these students and their leader go through a Bible study with Ashana and before they leave she insists that they return the following Thursday for another Bible study, to which they heartily agree.

The next week, when they arrive at Ashana’s house, they find about 8 other people present. During the week, she has invited all her neighbors over to her house for the Bible study this Thursday. After the Bible study comes to a close, Ashana informs the group of students that next week even more people will be present as she intends to invite her family, and friends.

Who is Ashana? She was the young girl who, two years ago, tried to end her life. Up to this point Ashana was uninterested in spiritual things, but when the group arrived to her house something changed. Leading that group of students was the husband of that missionary nurse. Ashana told him that that missionary nurse “Is my friend, because she cried over me, and shared her tears.”
Now, two years later, the seeds of those tears shed are bearing fruit in the life of a young girl who now has a future and a hope.

Jungle Weight Loss Program

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Day 1: Green grass=weight loss
We will begin our program discussing the benefits of green leafy food-stuffs. Green things are good for you. There, now that we have that out of the way lets move on to our program for the day. Today we are going to be taking a short walk through the jungle that is conveniently near-by, just follow me. Now we are going to take a short detour through this area, don’t mind the tearing sensation in your arms and legs, this is where the weight loss comes in. What you experiencing first hand, is razor grass, it is guaranteed to rid you of 2-3 lbs of unnecessary epidermis in no time flat. Come on, keep following me, just think of all the pounds that are being shaved away as we walk, think of how nice it will be to see the scale reading 3 lbs lighter tonight!
Expected outcome: up to 3lbs weight loss of epidermis

Day 2: Meet the Jigger family!
Today will begin with an examination of our feet, yes, our feet. After our lengthy travels through the jungle yesterday it is quite possible that we will have some little friends that have taken up residence in our toes, toe-nails, or soles. There, I see one now, that little red dot with a black center that’s a little tender to touching, that just happens to be Mrs. Jigger as she is feasting on your feet and giving birth to more Jigger babies. Now comes the fun part. I have with me a safety pin, a pair of tweezers, and toe nail clippers, these objects will aid me in removing these tenacious homemakers from your flesh. Don’t mind the pieces of flesh that must be chopped away to reach them, think of it as another pound being chipped away from our goal!
Expected outcome: approximately 1 lb weight loss of flesh

Day 3: Tropical sunlight
Today we are going to bask in the sun of the tropics! No you will not need to change into your swimming attire, all we’ll need is jeans, a t-shirt, and a good pair of shoes. What are we going to be doing? Nothing too difficult, just preparing a small field for transplanting some pumpkins. Here’s your hoe, the holes are already dug, all you have to do is mix the soil, sawdust, and fertilizer and viola you’re finished. Don’t worry, it should only take you about 3 hours. In that time, something will take place within your body. You will notice a strange liquid substance dripping down your forehead, back, abdomen, arms, legs, and even toe-nails, don’t panic, this is expected. As that liquid drains from your body you will see the pounds literally melting away. You will notice extra weight loss if you forgo the sunscreen and allow your skin to turn a nice hearty red, in 2-3 days as that skin peels easily from your body you will potentially add an extra pound to the amount previously lost.
Expected outcome: approximately 6 lbs in sweat, possible 1 lb more in 2-3 days from skin loss

Day 4: Bloodletting
We have much less work cut out for us today. In fact, all we have to do is sit around lazily for the evening. First we’ll take a bumpy tractor ride to a lovely little village called Mashabo, then simply wait for the sun to set. Ah, its getting dark now, and here they come, our friendly little visitors here to make us feel welcome as we enjoy the evening. No, don’t kill them, they’re part of the program. If all goes as planned, today will be very advantageous to our program. Don’t worry, you have enough blood to easily survive, even after these flying creatures have finished their feast. I bet you never thought you’d appreciate mosquitoes!
Expected outcome: up to 6 lbs weight loss in blood

Day 5: Shall we gather at the river…
Today we are taking a scenic journey up the river through the jungle. Don’t mind the threatening clouds in the sky above, its rainy season so they’re expected, in fact I am hoping for a little rain. As we travel on the watery trail before us, take the time to admire the beautiful trees, the bright flowers, the colorful macaws, and maybe we’ll get to see some cute little monkeys. Oh look, its just started pouring rain. Sorry, I don’t have anything to shield us from the rain, but don’t fear, everything is for a purpose. There, the rain is already finished, although we’re sopping wet. But as we travel, something is happening, notice the shivers from the cold air? That was our objective, as you shiver violently throughout the remainder of our trip you have the possibility of losing even more of that stubborn weight.
Expected outcome: possibly 2 lbs of weight loss by shivering

Day 6: Salty tears
Today we are going to spend in the kitchen. Actually, most of it will be spent cooking over the fireside back behind the kitchen to be more exact. Just think of all the tasty things we can make for dinner! Here, let me show you how to get the fire going, its not that hard even thought the wind is blowing. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way its time to get down to business. The menu for today is dahl, rice, and curry eddo, yum! I’m going to put you in charge of the fireside. Yes, I know its smoky, and the wind is blowing it directly in your eyes, but don‘t give up. Just think, we won’t have to use salt in the food because with all the tears coming from your eyes the food will be salty enough.
Expected outcome: up to 1 lb weight loss in tears

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What Can You Learn in 2 Months?

When I stop to ponder the fact that I’ve been here in the jungles of Guyana for a little over two months now, it amazes me how I already feel at home. It already feels completely normal to tuck in my mosquito net every night before climbing into bed; to wake up at 5:30 in the morning to see the sun beginning to peak over the green canopy of jungle; to run barefoot through jungle trails; to see monkeys, macaws, and toucans in the wild; to fall asleep every night with peaceful quiet except for the typical jungle noises. In a little over nine weeks the group of 22 individuals living in this little jungle clearing already feel like my second family. In some ways I feel like I have barely arrived, while at the same time I feel almost as if I have been here for months already.
I was pondering some things I’ve learned since my arrival, in case you’re curious I decided to include a list…

~things usually do not turn out as expected, so don’t come with preconceived ideas
~how to cook for a large group of people, with limited ingredients, and still make it interesting and good
~jungle flies are a tenaciously pesky breed of insects
~when a local suggests a time to meet, add at least an hour to that time and don’t plan on arriving for another twenty minutes
~when baking bread in a Dutch oven check often since you can only guestimate the temperature (so far my record is having the bread baked and half burned in 8 minutes)
~walking 2 miles through the jungle carrying a full propane tank is a very bad idea
~to keep my suitcase zipped up or giant cockroaches will take up residence and poop everywhere
~the basics of how to operate a chain saw
~anytime a trip is planned someone will forget something important causing everyone to sit and wait while they go back for it
~the number of mosquitoes on any given night is inversely proportional to the amount of repellent readily available
~the difference between a water coconut and a dry coconut
~how to sleep comfortably at night in a hammock
~all trips will probably consist of about half the time spent waiting for something or someone
~when one must do all laundry by hand it is best to avoid hammering, cutting, or burning one’s hands as washing clothes becomes very painful
~don’t try to walk 5 miles to the next village in the morning intending to be back by 12:45 for class, most likely you’ll end up running most of the way back and still arriving late
~mosquito nets are a wonderful invention
~I actually talk quite slowly when compared to the local people
~to expect to be asked to do things for Sabbath school or church 10 minutes before I’m expected to do them
~the local phrase “just now” means anything but that
~the 3 most important things never to forget: toilet paper, a flashlight, and an umbrella
~not to be surprised when plans change

My life feels so complete right now. I can’t even begin to describe the feeling of knowing I’m exactly where God desires me to be.

Memories from Mashabo

These past nine days that I have spent in Mashabo are by far some of the best days I have had since arriving to Guyana nearly two months ago. I have learned many things, enjoyed myself immensely, drawn closer to God, seen first-hand the deep thirst for God in people’s hearts, and grown to love the beautiful children of that village.

Something that I am learning more and more, is the difference between necessities and extras. This week we were without electricity except for 2 hours during the meetings when we ran the generator, we had a deliciously aromatic outhouse, we bathed and washed our clothes in the creek, and we had fun making creative meals with our limited food over an open fire outside. Our most interesting meal of the week was a lunch of plantains, oranges and tortillas. Yet when the week was over none of us wanted to leave. Somehow when we have less, the truly important things bring more happiness.

This week I organized children's meetings, preached, did visitations during the day, did health talks, led out in the song service every night, cooked lunch for the kids at the school one day when the cook didn’t show up, made many of our meals, and learned so many new things. Not to mention being abundantly blessed myself. When it came time for us to leave Mashabo and head back to the school, all of us, without exception, were loathed to leave.

One of the later nights in the series when it we were starting to run out of benches for all the people

Taking blood pressures before the meetings

The kids program in our little building on stilts. Toward the end of the meetings we were totally full in this room, and kids were outside on the stairs. Sometimes when we sang active songs and the building started to sway a little, I wondered if we would come tumbling down=)

Home, sweet home. We stayed in the upper right corner of this building. The underneath part was the health center, and right behind it was the primary school and the field where we held the meetings. I slept in a hammock on the porch at the top of the stairs. The guys slept in the tent in front of the building
Willow cooking some plantains for lunch in our "kitchen" which was a fireplace outside. The school children loved to come and watch everything that we would do. They would crowd around watching us cook, clean, and even would come down and watch me bathe and wash my clothes. I really started to love those kids by the time we were finished.

My night to preach. Any idea what I talked about? Yep, the sanctuary, what else? It went really well...only problem was I didn't have enough time to cover all that I wanted to cover. I tried to tell the people that Paul preached until midnight so it was Biblical, but they didn't buy it=)

Our shower and washing machine. It was a nice little creek, and was close to where we were staying so that was nice. I decided that washing clothes in the creek is easier than a washtub, since its easier to rinse the clothes, and you don't have to fill it up with water.

Some of the cute school kids that were our shadow. They were grating coconuts the day that we made them lunch when the cook didn't show up

Our splendedly aromatic bathroom facilities. We had a couple resident tarantualas inside, they were fun to play with.

Getting some sleep Sabbath afternoon before the evening meeting

Enjoying some coconut milk, and some meat from a dry coconut in my other hand. Yum!

Anca and I with some of my kids that last night of the meetings. Man am I going to miss all of them!