Journaling in Maban

This post is a sneak peek into my journal entries from my time spent in Maban.

Friday October 9^th:

Living in a tent again and taking showers under the stars. What an amazing evening. We ran out of water for showers tonight, so I lugged my own water in a bright blue bucket. I’ll admit it was not any fun at first. Searching for buckets in the dark with my flashlight, trying not to scoop up leaves in each cup full, using my phone flashlight for light, and swatting away beetles and moths, but it was totally worth it when I looked up…  The Milky Way looked so close that I might have been able to reach up and swirl the stars around with my fingertips. God is awesome. 

Saturday October 10^th:

This afternoon, we got a tour of the hospital. What a gift, and one of the most important projects Samaritan’s Purse has in Maban. I am embarrassed and disappointed to admit that I had kind of written it off, and had not taken it seriously when I first heard about it. Another hospital… But I just could never have fathomed the work being done. The long hours in extreme heat, the unending number of sick patients, the amount of surgery, the newly admitted pregnant mother, and the hours upon hours the doctors spend on their feet. I’ll come back again next week to get more photos and stories of this incredible place. The fact that I can just walk into the hospital, shake hands with the patients, take photos, or sit in on a surgery is amazing. In the States you have to sign your life away just to see your own family members in the hospital. What an opportunity to be in this place.

Coming back to base from the hospital, we passed by a man in a light barre with some strange belongings under a tree. After a moment Walter said, almost as a question, “He’s a barber.”  For some reason we were all shocked. He had set up a wall of tarp and sticks that leaned against a tree. This was his shop. There, he had a few chairs for his customers to sit under the shade. A broken mirror hung from the make-shift wall. When I asked for a picture, he first made sure to put on his shades so his look was complete.

I loved the thunderstorms that we watched roll in from the distance tonight... Lighting crackled and illuminated the clouds all night long. 

Sunday October 11^th:

Church was amazing! I loved how involved each member is involved in the service, they don't just sit back and passively watch. Someone leads a time of praise and then a time of worship, an individual speaks on a theme, there is a time when people go to the front to give a short testimony of how God has been working in their lives recently, and the pastor preaches. Throughout the service there is a back and forth from the person at the front and the congregation. When they say, “God is Good." The congregation said, “All the time!" And the person returned "All the time!" And every one said, "God is Good!" At the end of the service we sang and danced out of the church and formed a circle where every single person shook hands with everyone else. I loved this part.

Sunday afternoon, Walter and I sat out on the tiny concrete porch of his tent enjoying the breeze. We were doing our best at trying to escape the heat.  We reminisced about all we've experienced so far. So many hilarious experiences, so many awe inspiring scenes, and a couple scary moments. It made my heart happy to talk with someone who understood, who had been through what I’d been through. To talk about Africa and feed into my fascination of this place.

This evening at dinner, when the doctors had come back from the hospital I asked them how they were after a long day, as I had done the day before as well.  They always said: "I am tired. But the day was good. Praise God." And if you asked for stories, from Dr. Atar they might be never ending. But they are sure to make your jaw drop! I know they would appreciate prayers of encouragement and for renewed energy each day. They see so many sad, terrible things, but they find joy in their work. I pray they will see God amidst each mess, and patients would see Jesus' light in them. I honestly believe they do. If I had to pick new heroes beyond my family, they would be these doctors at the Maban County Hospital in South Sudan. Incredible huh?

Monday October 12^th:

On Monday, I had the opportunity to accompany the pastors to the hospital for trauma counseling. We began in the male ward and worked our way through the female and finally the pediatric ward. We visited with ever patient, talking with them about their condition and praying with them. It was an awesome experience hearing the pastors pray in Arabic as I was praying in English. I was thankful the people were so willing to have us pray for them. I hope I never forget the things I saw there. But, from the state some people were in, there were numerous times I had to turn away, by eyes beginning to water. One man had lost his left leg. He had been in the forest collecting from a gum tree when his leg began swelling. He told us that they tried the traditional method of letting blood, but nothing they tried helped. By the time the man made it to the hospital it was too late to save his leg. He ran his hand over the blanket on the bed where his leg used to be. I couldn’t imagine having two legs one day, and only one leg the next.

Each case was difficult to see, but the Pastors were a beacon of hope to each patient. They didn’t openly pity them, they encouraged them through prayers and Bible stories. I tried my best to follow their lead, but it was the malnourished children that affected me most. The very last child we prayed over was the most malnourished I'd ever seen. It seemed as if he had no muscles at all, just skin on bone. I had no clue how he was moving at all. His head and face were so swollen that he couldn’t open his eyes. Yet, the doctors told me they had seen major improvement in him. He was sitting up and feeding himself rice on the bed beside his 21-year-old mother, but when he first arrived they told me he could do nothing but lay on the hospital bed. When we began praying over this malnourished three-year-old, his mother, and her healthy newborn, I lost it. I had to turn away so the mother wouldn’t see the tears. I forced a half-smile as we left her.   

Tuesday October 13^th:

Loralee is the nurse in the maternity ward. She is a tiny Filipino lady. She's been in Maban for years helping ladies through labor and deliveries, surgeries, and sicknesses. I tried my hardest to witness a birth, but I missed them every time. She told me she was thankful for one of the ones I missed because there were complications. “It was not an easy birth,” she said.  She thought it might have traumatized me about having kids later in life. We giggled about this, but I was still disappointed to have missed every birth by only 10 or 20 minutes each time.

I've heard stories that many women have named their children Loralee after the nurse who assisted in the birth of their child. When I asked her about this she just laughed and told me what an honor it was for her. All of the doctors are extremely humble.  They do their jobs, they commit their work to Jesus, but to me... it is such inspiring work.

I loved getting caught in a storm leaving the hospital this afternoon. I was walking back from the hospital taking pictures of kids when it began to drizzle. Drops hit the ground and created tiny explosions of dust.  I hid my camera in a t-shirt in my purse. As it began to come down harder I started walking briskly back down the path to our base and all the kids followed. Within seconds, the drops tripled in size and they poured out of the sky. I began jogging with all the little kids through the huge rain drops. We giggled and all the adults laughed when they saw a Kawaja and a crowd of children running down the narrow path back to the base. I waved goodbye to them and booked it for the gate and then to our mud brick office building. I was completely soaked, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

Wednesday October 14^th:

Lately, when I write anything, whether a blog, a story for Samaritan's Purse, or my own personal journal, I have found myself wanting to right down the word recognize. And write it in long, flowing letters. When it passes through my mind I hear it in a deep, rich African accent. It sounds so beautiful the way they shape their vowels and accent each syllable. Re-KOg-nIze. It's as if it floats there in the air after it’s spoken. I wish you could hear it...

The baobab tree is like something from my dreams. I saw one for the first time in Maban. It's one of the most magnificent trees I've ever seen. The grander of them just points to God’s craftsmanship. It was described to me as the trees in The Lion King. Right to my heart strings. The Lion King... it too feeds my fascination for this place because it reminds me of when I was young, of how it all started in me. It really is surreal, standing at the base of the giant trunk, looking up at the underside of its canopy. I could've spent an entire day reclining in its shade.

Thursday October 15^th:

Guess what? I'm writing my blog from a plane again. On another SP flight!! I’m on my way back from a week in the field. What can I say about Maban?

I am so sad to leave. I think a week was an inadequate amount of time to spend at this field site. I would've love more time to get out into the community and meet more of the refugees. I loved the people I met and my time could have gone on and on if I had the choice. The staff there are hilarious and a joy to be around. Brenda, a nurse, was so kind and made every effort to help me organize trips to the hospital, and Everlyn, working in nutrition, was just a hilarious woman. The doctors were some of the best story-tellers I’ve ever met, and Paddy, the area coordinator, he traveled with me from the beginning on our flight to Maban. He is such a joyful person. When he laughs you cannot contain your own laughter. He just makes you feel joyful when you see his smile. Such special people God collected in this place.

It's back to Juba for me and the guys. Walter and I met Austin on the plane as he was coming from a different field site. I'm sad to leave the field life behind and the people I've met, but I’m happy to be reunited with both guys. Life is all about change... Goodbyes are the worst part of it though. They never get easier, everyone knows that, but for some reason I'm always taken by surprise at how hard they really are. I think I left a piece of myself in Maban that I have an inkling to retrieve. That's how it normally feels for me. A piece of me is missing and I leave it behind in those I've grown to love.