Nyakabande Congolese Refugee Camp- -------------- July 2012

Compassion in Action---------------------------------------- Please read and then watch You Tube Video

-------------------------------------- http://youtu.be/srN9Bu0anUQ --------------------------------------------------------------------- Shortly before I was to leave for Africa, I had a sense that besides the month in Lemongo Village, Kenya , followed by a reunion to see my Michael, the AIDS Orphans and all the friends I had made as a missionary –nurse in Uganda, there was still one more things that I would be doing. I “saw” in my minds eye a large group of people who I would be serving in some way: giving food, immunizing, I wasn’t sure, but it was definitely something different than I had ever done before. This “seeing” was so strong that I contacted several agencies that served in the Sudan, Ethiopia, the horn of Africa, where the drought was intense and the need was great. But, for various reasons, nothing panned out. I was disappointed but believed that if this Call was so clear and insistent, it would find me and it certainly did, in a way I never could have imagined. Flying from Nairobi to Kigali Rwanda, to be picked up by my friend and guide, Sheba, I heard there was renewed fighting in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (The Congo) and since both Rwanda and Uganda share borders with The Congo, that meant the Refugee Camps would be flooded with women and children. Though I had never worked in a Refugee Camp, I thought I might be of help and went to the Nykabande Transit Camp, only a short distance from Kisoro Town, to offer my services. Their response was that they had requested help from the USA but did not anticipate a response for several weeks, but would be most happy if I could help In trying to find where I could be of most service I suggested that my three years in Public Health at St. Francis Hospital-Mutolere , might lead me to evaluation of new refugee’s and Immunization of the children., which is what I did. Language was as much a problem as always, so it made sense for the locals to evaluate: measuring arms for possible malnutrition, weight and height, as well as sending any one who appeared ill, to the Health Center. The Camp had a well run machine, where after being signed in , given food and shown around a bit, the mothers would then come to our tent for De-worming Pills for themselves and their family, as well as become updated on any necessary immunizations . Recently there had been an outbreak of measles, so whereas normally a child would not receive a measles vaccine until 9 months of age, it had been pushed up to 6 months of age. . We also immunized for Polio (oral vaccine), BCG, a prophylactic TB intradermal injection on newborns, as well as Vit A(orally) and De-worming pills for everybody.. Some days there were 60 or so pts and some days, as many as 140 pts. All the supplies and needed vaccine come from the Health Dept. in Kisoro, and one or more of the needed vials where often simple not available. We did the best we could, not just to immunize, but to help these families feels cared for. I was very impressed with the workers, especially the local Ugandans who were part of “Medical Teams International”, an international group of Caregivers, who treated each new pt. with compassion. Even when there was a situation with obvious mental overtones, they treated the affected with gentle care

Yes, this was exactly what I had “seen” in my waking state before I ever set foot on African soil. Lines of people waiting for care. A malnourished child given “Plumpy Nut”, (a high protein peantbuttery food supplement) for several days, then reevaluated by a caring Medical Team. There are several agencies active in the Camps besides Medical Teams International, the Red Cross, the United Nations and various groups from different Europeans countries. Each raises it flag proudly, as noted in the photo’s After I had been there a short while, four medical people (2 Docs and 2 Nurses) did arrive from Medical Teams International (3 from the States and a nurse from Canada).We bonded quickly and since I knew the area, I could assist them to find the best places to eat, sleep and visit, if they got that opportunity. Dr’s Mike and Paul saw patients, while Marilyn worked with the Nutrition Program and Cindy with the pregnant Mom’s. And there were many pregnant moms, many delivering in less than 24 hours after their arrival Although this work was nothing new to me, I found that treating women and children who had. just escaped from their homeland, had a far different feel than Ugandan women, who had lived here all their lives. Often families were separated in the rush to escape and we witnessed many happy and some not so happy reunions. The men often returned to the Congo to tend their crops and many were not heard from again.. Each hour of each day held its share of sadness and the reunions of joy. Over 20,000 people have escaped from The Congo into Uganda, with equally as many into Rwanda. After some period of time in this transit Camp, families are taken to permanent Camps hours away. When I first started there, the Camp was mourning the loss of many Congolese involved in a tragic bus accident, while traveling to one of these camps. How heartbreaking that after the suffering and deprivation of fleeing a war torn country, they might still lose their life . I was saddened by the reality of all this loss, illness and displacement, but heartened by the incredible resilience and hope of a battered people. The lessons of sacrifice and dignity under fire can harden and depress or humble and inspire. I chose the later, which gave me the strength to greet each mother with a reassuring smile and each frightened child as if they were they were a holy vessel of God’s love, which, indeed, they were. Sometimes when I had to immunize a child who was malnourished, I feared hurting them, as there was so little fat on their bones, but more often then not, they looked at me with a kind of acceptance and understanding that was far beyond their years. They were the poor, they were the hungry, they were the downtrodden. They were the Christ spoken of in the scriptures, disguised as babies with swollen bellies and gigantic vacant eyes. When I first viewed the hundreds upon hundreds of tents, offering shelter ,a meager meal or two, I felt overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation. Overwhelmed by the grief and lack that seemed endless to fill. . But when I started to work and put my own preconceived notions aside, I developed new eyes; eyes that saw hope and anticipation and yes, even joy. I saw children playing and sharing with each other. I saw mothers, with several children of their own, help another mother who was too distraught to adequately care for herself, let alone her children. I saw kindness in the face of adversity; I saw compassion in action! The problems in the Congo are overwhelming in their complexity. The human capacity for greed, pride, and ignorance, which dishonors, wounds, and kills, while continuing to generate perpetual suffering, is atrocious. It makes you want to turn a blind eye, run anywhere as fast as you can, be somewhere else. But you can't run far enough away to escape the reality that these are your brothers and sisters, these are your children. We are, indeed, if not one nation, than certainly one family, under God. We cry the same tears, our blood runs red upon our clothes whether it be an African wrap, an Indian sari or a formal tuxedo. We are so much more alike then we are different! I know I mostly referred to the women and children but there were men, as well. In fact, I noticed at the Health Talks given daily by the Ugandan Workers, the men seemed to speak up more quickly than the women, asking thoughtful questions about the care of their wives and children. We bazungu (white people) are quick to judge these men as less than,----- less than what?----- Less than a human who runs away from being sucked up into an intangible cause, less than a human who can no longer raise crops to provide for his family, less than a human whose any sense of value or morals has been clouded by the violence that has personified his entire life? We perhaps, need to walk just a mile in his shoes (if he has any) before we judge what kind of a man he is. Or, maybe even better, would be to leave that judging to his God and instead, take the shoes off our own feet and give them to him. What was I doing there? What did I think a simple nurse with a few skills could accomplish against centuries of brutality, lifetimes of death and displacement? Well , truth is , if I had really understood what I was getting into, if I had really had any idea of the depth of that kind of suffering, I probable would not have offered my help so gallantly. But in ignorance I did offer to help and what started out as giving a few shots or pills, quickly turned into comforting a crying baby, then consoling a mom who had lost a child and even bowing my head in prayer when a simple wooden casket was carried by.. My good friend Carol once said, when I was struggling with just how to let go of a difficult situation and being given the advice to "Let Go and Let God" , that she couldn't quite go along with that advice as she believed we are God's Hands on Earth. It would seem St Teresa of Avila, one of three women recognized as a doctor of the Roman Catholic Church shared her belief, as noted in this prayer which is attributed to her: . -----Christ has no body now but yours, -----No hands, no feet on earth but yours. -----Yours are the eyes through which he looks with compassion on this world, -----Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. -----Yours are the hands with which he blesses all the world.' ----------------------------------St. Teresa Of Avila ---------------------------- http://youtu.be/srN9Bu0anUQ