Momo's wedding and other weekend craziness!

This weekend we had the opportunity to go to our security guard and friend, Momo’s, wedding. Momo and Marthaline decided to have a traditional Liberian country wedding. The requirements for which include the entire wedding party going to the bride’s village for the ceremony. As it turns out, the village Marthaline grew up in was an unknown distance off of the main road from a city four hours outside of Monrovia. As Momo’s employers and friends, it became our responsibility to transport them all there. We did not really know what we were getting ourselves into and it had all the makings to become the perfect Gong show.

The wedding caravan left before seven am on Saturday. Our JAC truck was loaded down with about 15 wedding guests sitting on recycled church pews in the back. I was driving the pick-up full of VIP Liberian women, including the bride. Our Jeep had the rest of the ORR gang, plus Momo’s pa. Four hours outside Monrovia we reached Gbarnga (pronounced Bonga) and found the dirt road that led to Marthaline’s village.

As the driver of the vehicle with the bride inside, I had to lead the caravan into the village. Marthaline had not been to her village for a long time and the best description for how long it would take along the dirt road was “It is far, small,” (which in Liberian translates to really, really far) and “We will pass five other villages to get there.” The road, more like a trail, took us past several small villages and over eight iffy log bridges. Thankfully, Marthaline was a little off on her estimation and we reached the village after only 45 minutes of bumping along the dusty road.

The family had erected a flower and palm branch awning at the house (mud hut) and everyone was ready to start the festivities as soon and the bride and groom had arrived. I can’t really explain everything that happened over the next five hours, but after we all changed into our wedding clothes, the negotiations began. We all sat in school chairs as both families negotiated, exchanged money, a glass bowl, some cola nuts and wood carvings. Somewhere along the way they started serving popcorn and a crazy drunk lady started yelling from the back of the crowd. Then all of a sudden the negotiations ended, people were hugging and shaking hands and they were serving food and soft drinks. The wedding was over—Momo was married.

We elected to not stay in the village and found a nearby guesthouse to sleep at. The next morning we returned down the dusty road and over the bridges to pick up the wedding party and head back to town. The party continued in the back of the JAC but things were much more sedate in my vehicle. When I asked Marthaline if she was going to ride back in the back of the JAC with her husband she said, “No way Debbie, I am with you!”

The ride back to town was slow and bumpy. We were all exhausted and ready to be home when we came across the scene of a motorbike accident. It had literally just happened, the wheel of the bike was still turning when we drove by. I saw two women walking along the side of the road and started thinking everything was ok, until I noticed the man laying on the shoulder. I pulled over the truck and ran across the road, fully expecting him to be dead. He had some pretty significant road rash on one arm and a leg. Thankfully, he was breathing and had a strong pulse, but was not responsive.

Somehow Liberians starting appearing from everywhere, everyone thinking they knew the right thing to do. I really didn’t want to move him, but Mariel had been in this circumstance before and quickly reminded me that no one else was coming. God must have put authority in my voice because somehow everyone at the scene who was trying to “help” listened to my commands. We rolled up a shirt to stabilize his neck and found a tarp to use as a stretcher. Meanwhile other ORRers were throwing grass into the street to alert passing cars and directing traffic. We loaded him and his sisters (who also had some pretty bad road rash and were pretty hysterical but otherwise unharmed) into the back of the JAC truck and headed out towards the hospital. Mariel and I took turns attempting to keep his neck immobilized as we lumbered down the road, through Red Light, and over some huge potholes.

Somewhere along the way I looked around the back of the truck and had to laugh. Besides the accident victims, Mariel and I, there were several wedding participants, huge bunches of bananas, a sound system and a live chicken. Not your typical ambulance, that is for sure. On the drive towards the hospital the man started moving and responding to pain, but never regained consciousness or was able to talk to us or follow commands. We arrived at the only hospital that takes trauma victims in the country about 45 minutes later. It took several attempts to explain the need for a stretcher and a neck brace, but we eventually did get them and wheeled the patient inside. In the ER I reported to the doctor what I knew. He never got out of his chair, but assured me he would check out the patient as soon as he was registered. I did see a nurse in the room as we were leaving.

I rode on a pew in the back of the JAC, with Momo’s brothers and the chicken, for the rest of the way home. Back at Momo’s house (next door to mine) the wedding party continued. We decided not to stay and went out to one of our favorite restaurants to enjoy some AC and burgers instead.

It was a crazy, but not quite as Gong-showish as I though it would be, weekend and I am thoroughly exhausted. Eh Liberia!

The Container is here!!!!!

We have no mail service in Liberia. The only way we get things from home is when a willing party coming this way carries it over for us in their suitcase OR via a shipping container. The container is reliable but very slow. Yesterday we were able to pick up boxes and rubbermaids packed by us or friends last September (7 months ago). We received 19 boxes at the ORR house! The vast majority of it was supplies for the kiddos-- clothes, school supplies, books, medication etc... But there were some goodies for us too, including an entire rubbermaid tub filled with tortilla chips, trail mix, coffee and cereal from my Aunt Marcia. As you can see in the picture below we were very excited! And even though I don't have a picture to prove it, dear Elena was so excited to see the cereal that she actually cried!

I just want to give a big THANK YOU to everyone who put energy into collecting, packing, sorting and transporting everything our way. We really, really, really appreciate it!

Liberia: Through my mother's eyes.

My mom has spent the last three weeks with me, here in Liberia, and it has been unbelievable. Earlier today we were debriefing a bit, discussing her time here and she shared some observations with me-

The Kids- The kids are amazing! They are always full of hugs and smiles and so accepting of me. They can sit and read books for hours and be completely content. And they are truly happy.

The ORR team- Your team works like a fine tuned machine. There are so many facets to what you do—healthcare, delivering food, even making a difference in the government to help the country’s children and orphans. You fight to find a balance between the endless needs of the children, nation and area as well as be able to encourage and support each other and have fun together too. (We sure don’t feel that way the majority of the time. It is a good reminder to see things through new eyes, thanks mom.)

Liberia as a whole- Such a land of contrasts. On one side of a fence is a family struggling to survive-- slaving over a hot coal pot to cook, hoping for one good meal a day, carrying heavy loads of water to do basic chores, no electricity, no job. While literally, on the other side is a five star hotel with air conditioning and a swimming pool. You can sit on the beach in front of a resort, beautiful and pristine, and across the invisible boundary line the beach is littered with garbage and human waste.

The hospitals are so different as well. The focus here seems to be on death. All the care revolves around if the person will die or not as opposed to the focus on wellness in the states. As we toured a hospital the nurse showing us around told us how four people had died in the last 24 hours plus a stillborn baby. That was about ten percent of the patient population that day. That is how it is every day. And it is not sacred, the tour included the delivery room where the mother who lost the baby was still lying on the table and was within earshot when the nurse told us “her baby died this morning.” Later, the nurse explained that the woman lived in the bush and had been in labor for five days. She had to walk three hours, in labor, to the closest road to find a car to carry her to the hospital. By the time she finally arrived and got the help she needed, it was too late.

There is a simplicity here too. Without fancy gadgets to get work done everyone is left to using basic tools. You don’t often see lawn mowers, chain saws, food processors or electric pencil sharpeners. Instead it takes hours of hard manual labor to cut the grass or chop a tree with an axe. Fixing dinner is an all day affair using a large mortar and pestle to beat palm nuts into soup. We even got blisters on our hands from manually sharpening pencils for the kids at the orphanages.

When asked if she would still come if she knew how much she would cry, my mom replied, wiping a tear away, “Of course.” She said that through pictures she had seen and stories I had told she felt prepared to come. Then she went on to say, “I don’t think you can ever be prepared. Could I do this full time? …I know I could if God wanted me too.”

Update on the girls--

Korpu continues to thrive! Six weeks under the loving care of her foster mom Martha, and she is doing great. Her personality is coming out, this once withdrawn girl is laughing and dancing and even playing jokes on her ma! At her follow-up doctor’s appointment last week she weighed 19.8 lbs. That is over a four pound weight gain in six weeks-- a 25% increase!

Mardea, the tiny malnourished girl with the bed sores, is improving slowing. She has been in the hospital for a month now, enrolled in an aggressive feeding program. Now that she is getting proper nutrition her wounds are healing and she appears more alert. She is gaining weight as well, and is up about two pounds already! –

-- This is not the report that I sat down to write today. I received a phone call while I was writing this, that Mardea died this morning. She died! I am shocked. I was really looking forward to this being a happy update. Even though she had been improving on the nutrition side of things, she developed a respiratory infection in the hospital and her weakened body just could not fight it off. I spent most of the day today with Mardea’s foster mom, Doris, waiting at the hospital for her body to be released and then at home, explaining to her friends what had happened. Everyone kept saying “All the suffering, for nothing.” Was it for nothing? I have to believe that we did the best we could for her. But I still feel that she deserved better, she deserved more than this.

I can find some comfort in it though; I wholeheartedly believe that she is not suffering any more. She is free. While I was sitting with her today, Doris told me that another woman in the ward, caring for her own ill child, had a dream about Mardea last night. In the dream Mardea was grown and walking and had plenty of hair and some friends came for her and took her away. Wow. --

Mardea and I last Friday.