Mission Outreach

Today I traveled with Tori Thoreson, LeAnne Stegall (soon to be Griffin), Jessica Snail, and Natalie Fisher to an outside village in order to give vaccinations to the babies nearby. We gave DTap, live polio, and TB prophylaxis (not given in US). This was a wonderful trip, not because we made all the little babies cry by sticking them with needles, but because we made them all laugh shortly after. Each of the ladies I was with brought tons and tons of stickers and the young people of the village went absolutely crazy. Soon we were handing out sticker after sticker to each of the locals. I placed one sticker on my forehead and soon all the children wanted a sticker on their forehead as well. It is a wonderful feeling when one is able to reach out to the villagers. There are many different languages in the world, but everyone should be able to smile and laugh with one another. There are many different world views, beliefs, values, and behaviors; but there is only one God. This God is our God and he deeply loves each of us, regardless of our geographical location on Earth.
When I arrived back at Namwianga I met up with Zach Daggett, Tanner, and Trey in the garden. They had picked many of the tomatoes and I began to help them water the lepu. On my way to the garden, several of the local boys spotted me and chased me to the garden. Zach is more afraid of the Zambian children messing up our garden than the cows that graze nearby. The small children are capable of stomping on each of the green bean seeds that he so diligently planted. We soon neglected the gardening work and began to play with the children. Musa and Gordon gathered several of their young friends and started throwing nuts at us. We used the garden fence as a fort and began throwing rotten tomatoes and lemons back towards them. The battle intensified and soon we were running all throughout Namwianga attacking one another. The older boys eventually won and the young Zambian boys came out with their hands up. Although Gordon faked the surrender and tried to escape, we pegged him with five or six lemons that splattered him with juice.
After calling it even, we joined forces to attack the house that the ladies are staying in. After pegging their house with several lemons, the women realized they were under attack and came out onto the porch. By this time many of the younger boys had collected to join our team. I feel bad for the commotion that we started by running around the compound, but the battle was an unforgettable experience. Several locals gathered in the street to witness our lemon war.

Zimba Hospital

Several of us were able to travel to Zimba and visit the local hospital there. Aside from me: Ba Janice, Jessica Snail, Trey Carlock, Tanner Nichols, Katryna Cardwell, Christine Hall, and Callie Donaldson made the 45 minute trip. Once we arrived, Ba Janice introduced us to the American Doctors that are staying at the local mission. Dan Jones and his wife, Jone Jones, have been practicing medicine for 20 years and have done many incredible things for Zimba. Although Zimba was a very small town, the hospital is very nice; there is an X-Ray, lab, and operating room.
The first place I visited was the OR. It was very interesting getting to know the surgeons. I was surprised to see how young they are; they are no older than 23. It is almost like a trade school; they each studied three extra years to do surgery. In America one may have up to 12 years of extra school to do the same thing. Despite his young age, the surgeon was very professional and sanitary. I was very surprised when he asked me to dress out and assist him in the first surgery of the day. An older woman who has previously had 10 children needed a BTL (bilateral tubal ligation). I was able to assist the surgeon as he sliced her stomach open to tie her tubes. I thoroughly enjoyed getting to see parts of the body first hand; it is much easier to remember the information this way. I was able to use the instruments to cut and help sew and I am very grateful that I was given this opportunity. The next surgery was an older man who had an inguinal hernia that needed to be fixed.
After leaving the OR, I shadowed Dr. Jones as he made his rounds. I ran several errands and helped to clean several wounds. One woman had a c-section that had become infected, so I replaced the bandages. Another woman injured her leg badly from a large rock; cleaning her leg was a mess. The coolest thing I was able to witness this day was a child being born. Up until my visit to Zimba, I have never seen childbirth; however, babies are popping out everywhere in Zambia. Apparently this was the woman’s ninth child.
Visiting the hospital in Zimba was a wonderful experience and I am happy that Ba Janice gave us the opportunity to make this trip.

Speak Wisely

This morning I was given the opportunity to preach at the church here at Namwianga. All of the students were in attendance and about 650 people arrived for the service. In America I would be quite nervous speaking in front of so many peers, but things are different here in Zambia. Zambians do not come to church just to hear a good preacher; they come to glorify God through praise and take part in the Lord ’s Supper.
I gave a 15 minute lesson on the importance of controlling our tongue. Using scripture from Proverbs and James, I gathered thoughts pertaining to righteous speech. I explained that the most important thing one does with his mouth is to praise God; not eating or communicating through language. Through our voices we give glory to God. God is in our breath and our breath is one with God. I explained that righteous speech is limited or reserved, but one must listen as well. A fool may seem wise if he remains silent, but we must be slow to speak and quick to listen. I stressed the importance of using words wisely and giving consideration to the words we wish to speak. My goal was to communicate to the congregation that we cannot allow a worthless worship to God. We must not bless God one moment and curse man the next.
I tried to incorporate a couple of stories and used my papa, Ron Huddleston, as an example. I have been blessed with such wonderful grandparents and when I think of the most righteous people, all four come to mind. Not just because of their continual support and encouragement, but because of the example they set. Without them, I would not have the incredible parents that I do. When I look at my father and grandfathers I see men who are slow to anger, slow to speak, and quick to listen. Growing up, Dad would not punish us immediately after we messed up. He would take time to think and approach the issue with a level head. I chose papa Huddleston as an example because of the tremendous respect he has been given as a true man of God and the way in which he reserves his speech. I remember as a child how quiet Papa would be at the dinner table. Everyone seemed to talk and talk, while papa limited his words. When he did speak, all would fall silent and listen intently to what he had to say; knowing the words were from a man who has truly obtained wisdom. I look up to Papa Huddleston and PawPaw Reely in every way, and hope to one day impact my grandchildren in the same way.

Clinic

I have thoroughly enjoyed working at the health clinic here at the mission and getting some hands on experience. So often, pre-med students are too buried in the books to be certain that the path they have chosen is the correct one. I am relieved that I am not fazed by the site of blood, broken bones, teeth pulling, etc. Although I have not spent many hours volunteering yet, my experiences here have helped to confirm my decision of medical school.

Tuesday, I was able to assist one of our Physician Assistants, Tori, drain an abscess from a child’s neck. Tori and I have become good friends and she is truly a unique person. She is the opposite of me in that she cannot hide emotion from her face. She is able to make us all laugh due to her funny personality. Although she can be goofy, she is completely zoned in at the clinic and does a wonderful job. Tori simply took a razor to the abscess and all kinds of mayonnaise and ketchup was released. After using a very interesting way of irrigating the abscess, she used packing gauze to fill the hole. Leanne is the other Physician Assistant, but I am not sure of the spelling. It has been great getting to know the women who are working at the clinic. Many times in the evenings several of us will sit and talk for hours. Our topics range from serious spiritual matters to pointless jokes and stories.

Just from talking with Dr. Frank and the others at the clinic, I have been able to pick up on some basic health care and medicines. Wednesday I began helping the dentist, Ba Ian, pull teeth. Tanner has spent much time with the dentist and is possibly considering dentistry. I have enjoyed helping Ba Ian, but have no interest in being a dentist for a living. Most patients wait too long before coming into the dentist, so their tooth infections are usually chronic, meaning that their tooth is no longer of use and just needs to be pulled. Each patient is given a shot to numb three different nerves in their mouth; however, none of them are sedated. The adults are usually fine, but convincing small children to let you give them a shot in the mouth and then yank their tooth out is a difficult job. Pulling someone’s tooth out was definitely an interesting experience.

Immediately when I left the dentist’s office, I am able to help clean up a deep laceration on a young man’s arm. Although the knife wound was deep, it only skimmed part of the underlying muscle. I held the flash light and cleaned up blood, while Tori and Frank stitched his arm back together. I really enjoyed the close up and learned a lot. Apparently the young man has been beaten up several times, and this time the attackers used a knife. The man had been injured for two days before coming in, simply because of all of the stipulations involved. He had to go through the police before being emitted to the hospital. Either way, Frank would never turn someone away if they came straight to the clinic. The young man’s threshold for pain was incredible; apparently all Zambians are this way. Many women show no emotion or pain during pregnancy. The young man was given an anesthetic that wore off 2/3 into the procedure.

Compost Material!

Our group has taken over a nearby garden, which contains tomatoes, onions, cabbage, green beans, and rape (lepu). We collected 25 bundles of rape to sell at the market yesterday, hoping to make a profit. We eventually sold all of our bundles for about 700 kwacha each and I am fairly sure we got ripped off. Regardless, this was a fun experience that made us feel like true Zambians. We had lots of pun fun on the way to the market, as each person took their turn yelling, “Rape!” I would like to say our group matured and the jokes were no longer funny; however, they made it almost all the way back to the mission. I have a video of Trey standing in the middle of the market with two bundles yelling, “Rape!” to the locals. I look forward to spending more time in the garden, so that I may hopefully apply some of the knowledge on sustainable foods that I obtained during HUT. We have begun collecting compost material for a pile and often reflect on good times that we shared at our garden during HUT.

Glorified

Have you ever pondered why God created man? Of course you have and so have I. Although there is no way of knowing for sure; I like to think that God created man on Earth to give glory to him. If God created us to be glorified then is it not important for us to glorify him?
So how is it that we may glorify God? There is no better way than through our voices; through singing praises to God. The Greek word for God used in the Bible is Yahweh. When translated to Greek and pronounced correctly, it is about as close to a breath sound that one can make. God is in our breath and our breath in God. What better way to be connected with God than through the air we breathe? What better way to glorify God then through our voice? In order to glorify God through our speech it is important that we speak wisely; that we speak righteously. Righteous speech is limited (James 1:19). Righteous speech does not boast in anything, EXCEPT for the death and resurrection of our Savior Jesus Christ. Those who speak righteously reserve their language and consider the thoughts that leave their mouth (James 3:6-12).
Much more, God can be glorified through singing praises. I have no passion for singing, so church services can be tough for me sometimes. I refuse to manufacture some type of joy that is of my own earthly pleasure; not joy that is in peace with the Spirit. I sin outside of worship enough, so I refuse to give habit to an earthly joy and that is why I often remain silent and listen to others sing. It is scary to think that we may become so accustomed to manipulating neurotransmitters to their brain, that their worship is quite empty. It is scary to think that some of us that attend church our whole lives can be living off a short term high that we are getting each time we enter the building; a feeling that we simply give to ourselves. Whether other people are glorifying God through their voices or not is none of my concern, for I can see God in their voice regardless. Someone could be thinking about what they will eat for lunch, but from a distance all I can see is their breath being lifted up to God.
I have been blessed with a gift for music, which has its negatives. I am often bored with the simplistic melodies of church music; however, if it is not the music that stands in the way of my praise it can be the words. Putting words to music can have a positive or negative effect. Wonderful words can make a poor song beautiful, while lame words can make a beautiful song dead. I cannot help but listen to the words I hear during a song, which often interferes with my connection to God. You often hear people say, “There are no words to describe what I wish to say.” Then why do we always try?
I have joined the George Benson College choir here at Namwianga, which has sparked my love for music once again. The Zambian students here have such powerful voices and I take pride in our deep sounds that project from the bass section. But the songs that move me the most are the songs in which I do not understand (or should I say that these songs are the only ones I TRULY understand). The songs that I see God being glorified are the songs that we sing in Citonga; the songs that I do not apply words to. I do not care what the words are for the songs that we sing nor will I ever ask. The times that we come together and sing in Citonga are the only times that words do not hinder my praise to God. These songs have such wonderful sounds, sounds that do not symbolize anything earthly to me. For someone that speaks fluent Citonga, that language is simply sounds that represent certain things. For me, Citonga is a way that I may witness someone’s breath used to give glory to our creator.

To Die is Gain

It has been wonderful to witness the love and care that the women of our group give to the orphan babies. Observing their maternal instincts has been very interesting. I have no doubt that holding the children and taking care of their everyday needs has fulfilled an important role in the children’s development. It is equally painful to see the women’s reaction to the death of one of the babies. Luseko and Elli both passed away this morning. Both were given help, however, I cannot help but feel that more should have been done to save their lives. Sometimes it seems as if there is a somewhat hopeless, fatalistic view of sick babies in Africa. Trey stated, “Maybe I am simply naive, but I feel like more should be done for the dying children. There is a hospital nearby. This being such a nice compound in Zambia, the death of three children in two days is unacceptable.” I agree with him, but unfortunately most women who work in orphanages do not know enough about health care to identify when a child should be rushed to the hospital (not to take away that the aunties here are incredible women.) I feel that spreading primary health care throughout the world is critically important.
Several have shared their thoughts of anger about the situation, but I am not angry. In order for me to be angry I would have to pinpoint a person or thing, but I cannot. I see injustice here in Zambia. I see an economy in shambles. I see children dying simply because there is not enough money to go around. I see things that are the consequence of people allowing sin into the world.
Although the deaths of Request, Elli, and Luseko disturb me, the impact is not the same for the women. The guys in our group spend much time playing with the hyper, healthy children from Eric’s House, while the ladies comfort the smaller children. Obviously the ladies play with the older children and we the younger; but this is the typical pattern. I was around Luseko for several days last week, but mainly from a health standpoint. I helped in the clinic to rehydrate the children and shadowed Dr. Frank as he assessed them, but the ladies in our group change diapers and feed the small children, even the sick ones (diarrhea and vomiting make this quite a job.) So to see the hurt on their faces is very disheartening.
We often view death the wrong way. To die is gain. This is all I wish to say.