Happy Christmas from Tenerife!

I just want to say a huge happy Christmas to you all.  I am currently in Tenerife as the ship has it's annual maintenance and surveys to ensure we are able to continue to serve the people of Africa.  It is a wonderful time for the crew to take a break and wind down from what was a long and intense field service and to spend a bit of time in a Western culture.  I am working with the medical equipment as we prepare ready for going to Togo the very end of January, however, the net couple of days are ship holidays as we celebrate Christmas.

It is weird being here for Christmas as many of the traditions and feelings (and weather!) which I associate with Christmas are missing.  With so many changes and so much to take in it is difficult to even try and get into a Christmas mood, but hopefully as we take a break I will be able to focus on the real reason I celebrate Christmas - the birth of Christ.

And finally I want to wish you again a Happy Christmas!  This last year has been a real journey getting here, and there are so many people, without whom I would not be here.  The support I have received both spiritually, financially, practically and emotionally has been incredible; THANK YOU all for everything you have done.  It is a real blessing to be able to share with you as I continue this journey, and I know the next year will be a year of many new experiences and lots of learning.  I hope that you are truly blessed over this Christmas period and the coming year.

Stars

On the first night of the sail I went out and looked at the stars and was astounded by their beauty.  As I gazed into the sky I could see hundreds of stars, far more than I could ever count.  Some prominent and bright, others barely visible, faintly glimmering.  As I stood in wonder I couldn't help but be completely in awe of what I saw.  Here in front of me were stars that were millions of miles away from me, that encompassed an area beyond my comprehension, and furthermore what I was seeing was only a tiny proportion of the universe as my field of vision is so small and my ability to see faint light is so poor.   

How humbling that here is an expanse that is far too large for me to ever imagine with happenings that have consequences which reach much further than I could imagine, yet my small problems often seem huge to me.  I love the stars, they look beautiful, they shine out for miles around, and in the dark of the ocean, away from the light of land, you are able to see far more than I have ever seen before.

Over the last few days we were privileged to watch an incredible display. The Geminids meteor shower was happening and we had a brilliant view from our floating platform, particularly as we are just coming up to a new moon.  Since I was very young I have always dreamt of seeing a shooting star (which aren't actually stars but objects - normally fragments from a comet - which burn up as they fall into the earth's atmosphere).  As I lay up on deck 8 I looked up, bit by bit I spotted these streaks of light traversing the sky.  One can't but be in awe of such natural beauty.  It was an opportunity I am very thankful to have had and one that I will not forget.

Sailing!

Whilst sailing I have had the privilege of seeing some incredible sights.  During the sail they open up the bow of the ship (that is the front for none sailing types).  It is wonderful to stand at the front of the ship and feel the wind blowing in your face.  As you look down you see the ship crashing through the waves.  As the ship goes into the waves it creates a wake of white spray just in front of the ship.  This spray creates beautiful little rainbows as the sun shines through the water droplets.  Every so often out of the spray will jump over ten flying fish.  These fish flick their tail side to side to generate enough energy to 'jump' out of the water, where the glide above the surface ahead of the ship.  Once in a while the ship crashes down in to the crest of a wave creating a larger splash and water comes flying upwards towards those of us still stood at the front of the bow, but it's a small price to pay for being able to experience these things!

As a young child I loved dolphins, I adopted one and read all I could about them, I knew hundreds of facts about the different species, their sociology and habits (alas I can't remember any of this now apart from that pink river dolphins exist but that is not so useful!).  Anyway whilst I had seen dolphins in sealife centres, and had fed them at seaworld, my desire was always to see them in the wild.  The beauty in these creatures was not in seeing them cooped up in small tanks performing the same show day in day out, but was in seeing these animals in their natural habitat, playing and enjoying being in the open ocean.  During the sail I have been blessed to see many wild whales and dolphins.  Depending on when you see them they can either be playing and swimming with the ship, or you can see the jumping and playing as they pass the ship.  My favourite moment was watching a pod jumping and dancing alongside the ship, particularly as the jumped in time with each other, with some baby dolphins alongside the larger ones.

 

 

(Pictures by Daniel Um)

We have also sailed past an incredible water spout.  These are similar to tornadoes, but they are slightly less powerful and occur over water.  For me this was extremely exciting, to see such power and occurrences that we cannot create or recreate for our pleasure.  Something that we just have the opportunity to observe and marvel at.

(Pictures by Daniel Um)

 There have also been some amazing sunrises and sunsets.

Sailing!

We have now been sailing for 8 days, we have travel up and around the West Coast of Africa from Benin towards Tenerife.  

So we say goodbye to Benin with the ship having spent 10 months here.  The following is a summary of a small part of what we have done here.  These statistics alone cannot convey what has happened in Benin through the work of Mercy Ships.  These statistics don't tell of the friendships built and the hope shared, they don't show the many local people who worked on the ship as day volunteers and spent time with us.  They don't tell you how many orphans were played with and allowed the joy of colouring, or prisoners who finally had someone to talk to, or churches who invited us in to have fellowship with them as we all realise how God is the same wherever you are.  These figures are only a small part of what is achieved through Mercy Ships, but hopefully they give a small idea of the scale of what goes on here.

33,851 eye evaluations and other treatments;
13,174 oral health education;
10,175 dental patients seen;
7,083 pairs of sunglasses distributed;
5,689 pairs of reading glasses distributed;
3,521 cataracts removed;
1,161 general surgeries;
996 reconstructive and plastic surgeries;
794 dental hygiene patients;
570 other eye surgeries (pterygia and stabismus);
231 orthopedic operations;
154 obstetric fistulas repaired;
185 cleft lip and palate repairs;
119 church & community leaders trained in mental health;
50 prison officers and workers trained in mental health;
28 patients received palliative home care;
25 oral health teachers trained;
23 local agricultural trainees;
19 mental health workers trained;
19 families trained in wound care;
18 community eye field workers trained;
10 agricultural staff trained;
6 Burkitt's Lymphoma patients received palliative support;
2 local surgeons trained;
2 local eye surgeons trained;
4 local surgeons trained in fistula repair;
2 dental assistants trained;
1 hostel constructed for agricultural college;
2 church leaders conferences attended by 602 attendants;
and 12,000 people watched the Jesus Film

In total we have directly helped almost 80,000 people in Benin. A record breaking field service for Mercy Ships.

So goodbye Benin, it was good to be here if only for a short while.

 

 

 

 

The first few days of the sail were really smooth, far smoother than it was on my Introduction to Mercy Ships course which was on a small boat (held 30 people) for a few days, however, as time has gone on the ship has begun to rock more (although it is still rather smooth really).  Certainly we are sailing onto new waters and new opportunities.

Patient story - Alba’s Tears

Our communications department here on the ship spend time documenting some of the work and goings on of the ship.  The story below was written by one of our crew, Megan Petock with photographs by PJ Accentturo, Megan Petock, and John Van Huizen.

Alba’s Tears

Ankosua was outside carefully mixing herbs and water to create a concoction prescribed by a traditional doctor in her village.   It was mid-afternoon, and her daughter, eight-year-old Alba, was sitting alone in their home.  “She should be at school right now,” she thought.  Struggling to hold back tears, she poured boiling water over the crushed herbs and sieved the mixture into a cup.  

Two years earlier, an outgoing and vivacious Alba was attending school with her friends.  Now, she spent her days hiding in a dark room, too insecure to look people in the eyes. 

When the drink had cooled, Ankosua walked inside the home and handed Alba the cup.  Taking the cup, Alba tilted her head back, creating a small gap between her cheek and the large tumor that filled her mouth.  Slowly, she poured the liquid into the small gap and swallowed in intervals.   

While she watched her daughter struggle, Ankosua thought back to the day she first spotted the small bulge on Alba’s gum line.  Never could she have imagined the fear and discouragement it would cause her heart.   

After Alba had drunk the entire cup, she began crying. 

Ankosua couldn’t bear looking into the tear-stained eyes of her daughter.  Slowly, she wrapped her arm around Alba, who then buried her head on Ankosua’s chest.  As Alba’s tears collected on her shirt, Ankosua did her best to be strong. 

But Ankosua was depressed.  Alba had performed this routine hundreds of times, but the tumor hadn’t gone away.  In fact, it was growing.  At times, it felt like it was shooting out of her mouth, causing her great pain.  Ankosua realized the traditional herbs were not working.  There were no other options.  All she could do was keep trying and pray the herbs would begin to work. 

***********

“When the tumor first appeared, my husband and I took Alba to the hospital, but we didn’t have money to pay for it, so they wouldn’t treat her.  We had to use traditional medicine,” said Ankosua.  Alba was taken out of school so her mother could give her the traditional medicine daily. 

When asked how the community treated Alba, Ankosua stared at the floor and remained silent.  After a 10-second pause, she looked up, her eyes filled with tears, and she painfully replied, “Some people received Alba with good hands.  They prayed for her and encouraged me.  But others shunned her. They said, ‘Go away, we don’t want to see you.’”    

Whenever it was time to eat or drink, Alba hid herself from other people.  If she went out in public, she kept the tumor covered with a rag.  It served as a disguise and caught the foul-smelling and constant drainage. 

After two years of watching her daughter struggle, a woman in her village told Ankosua of a hospital in Benin that was performing free surgery.  Finally – a glimmer of hope!  They scrounged to get enough money for transportation and traveled to the hospital, which was hours away. 

However, Ankosua’s new-found hope quickly morphed into deep disappointment. 
 
“We were there for two days, and nobody attended to us.  I asked a woman who worked there why we weren’t being helped.  She said, ‘They don’t do surgery for free, you have to deposit money.’ I trembled when she told me that.  I had come with nothing,” said Ankosua sadly.

After Ankosua explained that she had no money for treatment, the woman told her about Mercy Ships.  “This woman had heard Mercy Ships was in town, helping people and healing people for free. She gave me directions to the Africa Mercy, and I immediately went,” Ankosua added.

****
Still attached to noisy monitors and IV fluids, Alba had been dozing in and out of sleep since returning to the Africa Mercy ward.  Finally, a few hours after surgery, she opened her eyes and sat up.  Seeing she was awake, Becca, her nurse, came to Alba’s bedside and handed her a small mirror.

Alba looked down, paused in a state of bewilderment, and began touching the empty space on her mouth.  The tumor was gone.  After 20 seconds of staring, a single tear rolled down her cheek.  With great determination, she tried not to cry.  But another and then another tear soon followed.  Finally, she gave up trying to hold them back and cried freely.  Alba’s tears were earned through years of heartache and rejection.  They were mature and raw – heavy tears for an eight-year-old to cry.   

Ankosua stood next to her bed the entire time, carefully observing her daughter.  When Alba began crying, she turned away.  Ankosua couldn’t bear looking into her tear-stained eyes.  After two hopeless years of discouragement and depression, healing had finally come.  The mixture of joy and pain in that moment expressed itself in tears.  

When Alba regained her composure, Ankosua returned to the bedside.   Carefully, she wrapped her arm around Alba, who then buried her head on Ankosua’s chest.  As Alba’s tears collected on her shirt, Ankosua did her best to be strong.   But her heart was too overwhelmed with joy.  Tears of relief and joy flooded her eyes as well. 

They sat and cried together, each tear serving as a testimony to the transforming power of God’s mercy. 

Alba Labi before receiving free surgery on the Africa Mercy.  Alba kept her tumor covered with a rag and hid whenever she ate.

 

Alba sits with her mother, Ankosua, on the Africa Mercy ward after receiving free surgery. 

Alba sits in the Africa Mercy ward after receiving free surgery.  “I am really happy that I have been healed, and I pray God will bless everyone on the ship,” said Alba.

American nurse, Becca Taylor, and Alba’s mother, Ankosua, look on as Alba leaves the Africa Mercy.  “I am so happy – I am rejoicing that Alba could receive free surgery. Thank you,” said Ankosua.

Black out day

Every so often the ship has to undergo some maintenance to ensure that it continues to function well so we can live on it so comfortably.  We have a crew of ship personal who work in the bowels of the ship keeping it running.  Whilst I am not completely sure of all that they do (and am sure I don't appreciate it half as much as I should) I know that it is because of their hard work that life here on ship runs so smoothly.  However, due to many factors (such as the poor state of our generators which need replacing, the fact that we stay in port for 10 months of the year, and that we sail in the Atlantic Ocean rather than the Baltic sea where the ship was originally built to sail) occasionally the power has to be turned off to do some essential maintenance.  Saturday was blackout day, the toilets stopped working at 6:45am and the power went out at 7am leaving only the emergency lighting to guide us round the ship (the hours aren't so unreasonable when you realise that breakfast is 6:30-7:30 during the week so people are used to being up early).

Most people (although not all - some love the peace and quiet on the ship during blackout days) try to get off ship on these days.    I had been invited to Bab's Dock which is a favourite haunt of the Mercy Ships' crew on their days off.  For me it was an opportunity to get off the ship and out of the city of Cotonou, seeing a bit more of Benin on the drive.  

The drive to Bab's dock takes you off the tarmacked roads of the city, onto the paved roads of the suburbs and then to the dust roads of the countryside.  We had the privilege(?!) of riding in one of Mercy Ships' older land rovers, the doors don't really quite shut, the plastic around the seatbelt holders has disappeared, occasionally the horn just decides to start beeping and the breaks squeak rather a lot.  Although, we were very blessed to have a car to go out in, and realistically the doors hold shut even if they are maybe not as closed as we would normally like, the seatbelts do up, the horn did not go off (it's rather funny when it does anyway) and at least the breaks work and anyone in the way knows you are there!  I was in the back of the car and was able to survey the countryside as we bumped along.  

The road was wonderful, it is a coastal road and gives beautiful views of Benin's gorgeous, but lethal waters (rip tides are prevalent at all the beaches in Benin and pose a serious risk to anyone who ventures into the water).  As we drove we passed a curious line of men holding a rope, similar to how you would if you were doing a tug-of-war, however, it wasn't until we had gone another half mile down the road that we saw the opposing line.  It turns out that they were holding the ends of a rather long net that they were pulling in from the sea.  

Dotted in view of the road were various buildings, some were made of blocks, similar in size to breeze blocks.  The blocks were being made beside the road by mixing together cement and placing it into molds and then out in the sun to dry.  Some had walls made of sheets of woven palm leaves, some were made of corrugated iron, and some of the more smart buildings had brick walls.  These were then topped with roof tiles if it was a posh building, more corrugated iron, or woven palm leaves, or alternatively thatched.  It was a sight to see such a mixture of tiny shacks and small homes alongside these smarter buildings where they used the brick and had windows and curved walls and fancy roofs.  There were also many unfinished half built buildings which seemed to be relatively untouched despite their unfinished state.  Every so often we would pass a play area, with all the normal items found there, various climbing frames and swings, but made of wood and old tires rather than the metal ones that are common to the UK.


Anyway we bumped along the road until we reached Bab's dock.  Well not quite Bab's dock, but where you park to get the boat through the mangrove swamps and across the lagoon to the rather luxurious wooden dock that is Bab's dock.  You are greeted by beautiful wooden canoes and wooden decking with plenty of space (and cushions and chairs) to lay and sit on in the shade of the palm trees.  There's a volleyball net in the water (which is rather shallow the whole way across the lagoon), a bowls area and plenty of space to chill and relax.  Admittedly the water is similar in colour to iodine, a kind of rusty orangey red  due to the surrounding vegetation which can be a bit off putting at first it's great once you get in and have a swim (where it is deep enough to do so).  It is a gorgeous place to rest and have a day out and has been a real favourite of the Mercy Ships crew whilst in Benin.