Quarantine Catch-Up

A couple of months ago, I had a blog post started. I was going to talk about a trip I had made across jagged, muddy roads to Dourbali to report on a bunch of finished water projects. Naturally I went in a car that had no spare tire because I like to live life on the edge. As you know, having recently been in a car accident, I should have been more prudent, but I did make sure to drive slowly, and I had no tire incidents. I did get stuck in the mud twice, but Victor got me out. 

 I was planning to tell you about convincing nomad women to stop for photos, driving out to a new water project that we had worked so hard on and being surrounded by laughing happy people and new babies named after me and after the water, taking a sick old man to the hospital in the back of the truck and giving him my second to last Turkish airlines pillow (it’s the best airline pillow, if you travel Turkish Airlines, please get one for me to replace my devastating loss)…that trip was pretty fun, albeit exhausting.  

Then when I got back to Ndjamena, I found out that I had shingles. Claire was super psyched about this because she correctly diagnosed me, and it’s always nice for her to be reminded that she is a medical genius. I was relieved that it wasn’t one of those crazy African bugs that lays eggs in your skin. So anyway, I had to recover from that… 

I was very proud that I drove through this mess and didn't get stuck.

Pride goes before a fall. I got stuck here twice.

Just sitting and waiting for Victor to come in his truck to pull me out.

Preferable means of transportation in rainy season.

Kadidja shows me how she used to travel for hours to get water,
but now she has it right near her house.

She almost smiled! She and her friends
from another Chadian nomadic tribe, passed by a hand pump
that we upgraded into a solar pump. They all stopped to drink and fill up their jars.

With my friend Fatima and another girl whose name I didn't get.

 

This is the hospital in rural Chad.

More photos at the end! (I have several blog posts' worth of photos)

 Once I recovered from shingles, Joe and Flip suddenly got sick one morning. I called the vet, and tried to figure out what was wrong. The same day, the owners of my house were fixing the cement walls that were cracking and crumbling. They told me that the British vet was in town, and she came over to check on the dogs. If your camel needs medical attention, you definitely want the Chadian vet. If your dog needs medical attention, you want the British one. Katie (British vet) agreed. I don’t actually want to tell this story because it was really painful. Joe survived the sickness, but Flip died. It was really horrible, and I stayed up all night holding Flip while he screamed in misery, and I realized that I was also getting a fever. The next day I was miserable, the dogs were miserable, and I called the vet to come and I called Abiner, Antani’s youngest brother who loves my dogs. He really helped save Joe’s life. He helped give them water, injections, and all the care I couldn’t give because I couldn’t get up. We thought that Flip was going to pull through but he died later that night. I was pretty devastated by it. Flip was such a sweet little dog. I’d trained him to sit and shake hands. He followed me everywhere. Just a lovely sweet boy. I really miss him. But I’m so thankful that Joe is doing better. He’s back to normal now, and I’m down to two dogs. York went back to his owner. Joe and Pika are still with me. Though Moussa continues to call her “Kakilé”, Pika is now the official name of Tiny Puppy. Antani’s kids came over a lot with Abiner to play with the dogs while I was sick, and Pika is now the name that she answers to. 

The last photo I took of my pack of dogs.

I would always bring Flip and Joe to work with me.
Flip jumped in the car any time I opened the door--
was always disappointing for him when I opened it just because I forgot something in there.
I brought Flip and Joe to work and left York and Pika because Flip and Joe will sit quietly.
I think they somehow got rat poison or something while they were at the office,
as York and Pika were fine.

I pulled out the guest mattress for the sick puppies.
Abiner is helping take care of them.
Pika wanted to photo bomb the photo.
I was lying in bed when I took this photo.

Now it's just Pika and Joe and me, but Pika loves Joe
and Joe tolerates Pika and sometimes condescends to play with her.

 As for me, after Flip died, I accepted being miserably sick and just went to bed. Claire stopped by and went against her principles of requiring a malaria test before giving malaria meds. She saw that I was pretty feeble and just gave me the pills. The meds we use here are for 3 days—one tablet in the morning, one at night. It was Wednesday that she gave me the meds. They tend to work fairly quickly, but by Friday when I should have been improving as I was on the last day of pills, I was worse. Claire came back into town, driving through a huge rainstorm, to bring me into the hospital. The storm was so bad, my whole yard was like a swimming pool. I had to wade through water over my ankles to get out to Claire’s car. Once at the hospital (a 20-30 minute miserable bumpy ride for me despite Claire’s best efforts at smooth driving—the road always wins), she took me to the OR where the docs immediately tried to hook me up to an IV. I’ve got pretty pokey veins and it’s usually not hard to get in one, but I was pretty dehydrated, and it took many pokes in both hands before they got one in. They took some blood and did the malaria test and it was positive as soon as it hit the slide. Dr Tom told me that I have a serious case of severe malaria that is resistant to the tablets, so I had to have medicine in an IV. He said I was also very dehydrated and that is why I was suddenly freezing and not because it was a rainy day. I also had symptoms of typhoid, but Tom said there is no point in testing because almost all typhoid tests here always come out positive whether you have it or not. He gave me antibiotics anyway. It’s great that I have a friend like Claire who strongly believes in the efficacy of modern medicine. Left to my own devices, I probably would have tried to treat my illness with the power of my mind and/or some green tea and chocolate. It’s also great having a friend like Claire who lives on the hospital compound. She put me in her spare room, IV bag hooked up to the mosquito net pole. I was there all weekend, and everyone took care of me. A bunch of the MKs on the compound drew me pictures and made get well cards for me. Abiner took care of Joe and Pika. 

Positive malaria test, attempting to smile for the camera.
I was freezing here and Claire went and brought me a pillow and blankets 
from her house because I had to get 4 bags of fluid in me before they would let me leave.

When you're constantly sick or in recovery, you don't run as much.
It's spider season and they staked their claim on my shoes.

Once Joe was better, he desperately wanted to go for his walks.
Here he is getting closer and closer to me to demand I take him.
Unfortunately, I was too sick to stand up and the vet said to make him take it easy
for at least two weeks.

I’m very thankful to have wonderful friends who love me and help me when I’m alone and in need. While sometimes I feel like God doesn’t answer the deepest prayers of my heart, the ones that I bring to Him all day/everyday, I can’t say that He hasn’t consistently provided for my needs during difficult times. It’s a tricky thing because in this world I constantly see people in need around me, and I wonder sometimes—why hasn’t God provided for their needs? He has everything. But just like He used people to provide for my needs, I’m someone He can use to help others. If I’m not paying attention to the needs of others that He puts in front of me, or if I’m too selfish or lazy or caught up in my own comfort, I can miss the needs of others. I’m not saying that God relies on me to do His work-He doesn’t need me, but I think there are consequences to my actions, and that might mean someone doesn’t get the help that they need in particular moment when we were supposed to step in. We have a responsibility as the Church to be the hands and feet of Jesus around the world—if you remember, in the Bible, Jesus’s hands and feet were constantly serving the poor and needy right up until that moment when He gave up His life for all of us. If you say you love Jesus, you don’t get a pass on this. Going to church on Sunday, praying before you eat, reading a few verses of the Bible in the morning—all nice things. But if your life isn’t transformed to serve others in the name of the One who gave us everything, you’re missing it. We are not going to fix this world, not in our lifetime, not ever. This world is broken. But we are supposed to work to bring good, peace, life everywhere we can (i.e. the Gospel, the Good News-in word and deed). A little village in the middle of nowhere Chad got a desperately needed water source because people all over the world obeyed—giving money, moving to a new town and reaching out to the people around them, taking a pay cut to work with a new organization that wants to bring clean and living water to the poor through the local church. But there are many many more villages like this one that haven’t gotten access to water. More people are going to have to step up if we are going to help them too. God can do miracles, and sometimes He does. But miracles should be rare, otherwise they’re just normal, not miraculous. Usually He works through His people to do amazing things. Don’t you want to be a part of seeing amazing things happen? 

They're happy babies!

The village gave us a goat in appreciation of the new well.
Sadly, we ate it the next day for breakfast. It tasted good though.

My little pals.

Getting water from the new well!

Anyway, moving on from the sermon, I’m currently in quarantine in Ethiopia. Initially, there was no required quarantine for traveling to Ethiopia. I waited until the last minute to buy my ticket, and so I had time to add another week to my trip when they added a 7 day quarantine requirement. THIS IS WHY YOU NEVER CAVE TO PRESSURE FROM PLAN-AHEAD PEOPLE. Last minute ticket buying is the only way to go in this uncertain world. Lucky for me, it meant I was on the same flight as Claire from NDJ to ADD. We did covid tests together—Negative! And got to the airport together. We did not get checked in together. At the airport they discovered that I was not a man, in spite of the fact that l’Hôpital Centrale had put “M” instead of “F” on the form. Everyone was concerned. I was informed that Ethiopia would send me right back to Chad because of this grave error. Two MAF pilots were in the airport vouching for me, but no one was swayed until a tired Chadian official came over to check on the hold up. He glanced at the paper and said, “Technically we only need the full name as on the passport and a negative test. We don’t even need the passport number or any other information. Why are you complicating this unnecessarily? We don’t need this. Let her check in.” What an amazing guy. I don’t know his name, but he is a pragmatic genius who should probably be in charge of everything. 

Waiting to pick up our covid tests!

So excited that it was negative, I didn't notice that I had turned into a Male.

In the airport in our matching Chadian flag face masks!

Claire and I planned to watch the latest episode of the Great British Bake Off on the plane, but my computer is old and not working very well and we couldn’t get the sound to work. We had fun talking about everything and eating the less than impressive airline food. Landed in Addis and said our goodbyes…and I went through immigration where no one mentioned quarantining or the fact that I’m actually Female. Claire discovered that many airport shops are open and the internet was working due to the airport not being packed to the gills as it usually is. I’m now staying with Paul Murphy and his lovely wife Almaz, who is treating my cold (unless it’s covid) with ginger lemon tea, while Gladys Hayes who is also in quarantine in the Murphy house along with her husband and two children (it’s a big house), smiles indulgently. Gladys is an actual doctor. But Almaz will heal me with Eritrean/Ethiopian health secrets, lots of love and care, and sheer determination. 

I like to sit in the garden while I'm in quarantine here.
I have to be in the sun though, otherwise it's too cold.

 I may write more after my trip to the field when I am tasked with getting many many photos and videos for Neverthirst. But possibly I will be too busy. If you want to see photos and videos for Neverthirst, follow us on social media because hopefully I’ll get one or two images acceptable for the public. And hopefully our local partners will film me better than I filmed Claire for a 3 minute testimony video that she had to do—I cut off the top of her head in the last minute of the video. She was already stressed about the video, and I ruined her perfect first take. After multiple subsequent takes, we finally got an acceptable one with head fully in the screen, but the people chose the head chop one to put on social media, so I feel bad every time I look at it. I’m sure they did it just to spite me. But it was a great story Claire shared and people really appreciated it. If I get my voice back in the next couple of days, due to the power of ginger lemon tea, I’ll hope to do as well as she did, though her accent is way better than mine (Devon is class).

I drove out to see Nesie's land.

Riding a donkey

Cuddling a little boy named Almi (water).

Good friend with his new solar-powered pump.

Dog bunk beds

Moussa's daughter (red head scarf) is a nurse.
She's training young mothers in proper care of their babies.

Cows like to ride in trucks.

Moussa and friends.

My little namesake, Amina, came by with her mother to visit me.

Some of the men from the village

Two nomad men who were in town visiting. 
They heard about our project and invited Moussa to their village.

Nomad ladies passing by on their way to sell stuff in the market.
They stopped to get water at one of our pumps.

Face tattoos are common in this tribe.

Nesie on his land with the owner who sold it to him.
They're good friends now.

Moussa and Joe shared a seat in my single cabin truck
on the way home from the office. Pika doesn't like the office.

The village elders with Moussa.
The man in the middle started this village.
Many people are related to him.

Selfie time!

Happy Thanksgiving from a Chadian turkey.
Moussa is looking for a female now.
He's got flocks of chickens, ducks, and guinea fowl.
He wants to start with turkeys too.

Travel Update

Herve bought me meds

You never think about the days past when you don’t sneeze until you pass a week full of days, each of which had at least one violent sneezing fit. So this is my life now, I guess. I blame Germany, the sudden drop in temperature that caused me to develop a cold and probably malaria. I’m still recovering. Dr Claire prescribed antibiotics and when I’m miserable enough, I actually follow her advice. For the record, Claire, I usually follow it better when you actually bring me the medicine, but I did go into the pharmacy here and buy meds all by myself. Well, technically I tried to walk in the wrong door in a daze about 10 times before I realized that someone inside was yelling at me and pointing to the other door. The good news is that really proved how sick I was to the people inside and they gave me an antibiotic without evening asking for my prescription. Oh wait-they never ask for it here in the land of freedom, aka Chad. All you suckers in the West with your fancy doctors have to spend a day getting an appointment just to acquire the necessary paperwork to purchase life-saving medication. I just walk in the pharmacy with an illness my friend diagnosed over whatsapp and I’ve got meds!

Malaria test was negative, but malaria meds
stopped my fevers, so who knows what disease I had?

Anyway, I wasn’t intending to write about my illness. I had a few international trips to mention, Thanksgiving Cooking Proof Photos to post, and some news for the interested.

A few blurry weeks of sneezing ago, I was in Germany, staying with the parents of my lovely friend Rhyan, speaking at some German schools and churches and enjoying beautiful fall leaves, courtesy of German Autumn, excellent food courtesy of Marilyn, and exciting tours of Hamburg, Lübeck, and Wismar courtesy of Nils. I’ll post a few photos, but really—you know I’m a terrible photographer. Go online and find good pictures!

A selfie with Nils.
I was laughing because when I told him we
should take a selfie he said, "Ah. Ok. Ja. Zelfie. OK. Zelfie."
This is in Wismar

Another zelfie with Nils (Marilyn doesn't like photos)
at the violin concert they took me to in Hamburg.
It was beautiful.

Enjoying the Autumn colors for the first time in many years.

Shopping in Germany (Ok fine-this is how I always shop)

Pretty

Pretty

Marzipan!

Lantern in the cool old boat restaurant we went to
in Lubeck for Nils birthday.

IAS Germany with Tabea in Stuttgart!

At church with Pastor  Gertrude on the 100th Anniversary of the end of WW1-
very interesting experience. For people whose ancestors fought on
different sides of two wars.

Adorable dogs

Best Christmas decorations ever!
Too bad they weren't edible.

I used some cooking techniques that Marilyn taught me to stuff a chicken for my Thanksgiving party, which I had to have because no Americans invited me to theirs, and I like to eat Thanksgiving food. Even if Americans HAD invited me to their parties, I would have still had to cook my own food because I like my family’s Thanksgiving food, and I wanted to eat it. So in addition to stuffing a chicken, I made the following: dressing (Southern Style-because you can take the girl out of Tennessee but she will still make southern dressing for the children she raises in Indonesia, and after multiple hot and humid Thanksgivings trying to convince one of them to eat things besides the canned no-berry cranberry sauce someone graciously sent to them in Indonesia, said child might realize that she likes the mush in the casserole dish and eventually learn how to make it herself), cornbread, pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread, pecan pie, sausage balls (had to make the sausage and bisquick myself because life overseas!), cream cheese icing for the pumpkin bread, and peas because I thought we should probably have a vegetable and I like peas. Special thanks to Debbie W who brought cranberry sauce (without the annoyance of berries in them—perfect) to make everything that much better. Very special thanks to Claire who made whipped cream for the pie (since she disapproved of my spray whipped cream) and washed all the dishes while I was out walking Joe. She really is the best person in my life right now, without her I would be sad, lonely, sick, and still have a sink full of dishes in my house. She even spent the night with me in spite of the fact that a rat ran right by her mattress after Joe chased it into the bathroom. I then called the guard and had him come in a dispose of the rodent because Joe is not a killer.  Though he does love fighting with goats, even when he gets head butted.

Yeah, that's me cooking!

Chicken turned out GOOD.

Joe watches Claire make whipped cream

He loves to lick the beaters!
But this is me giving him one, and not Claire.

I made all this food!

Went to Bitkine with this cool chick for a couple of days.

I had a Christmas party for Antani's kids. I fed them
tons of sugar and then took them to see Santa at the Hilton.
They looooved him because he gave them candy.
Incidentally, that's also why they love me.

Lastly, I went to Senegal, got stood up for the first two days, but then Tim showed up finally, no thanks to Air Burkina, and now I’m engaged. But I’ll save that story for later because this post is long enough already. 

Reading my giant book on the Balkans,
by myself on Ngor Island

Ngor Island is cool.

Senegalese fisherman

Making fun of a girl who was doing this same
pose for her instagram photo. I did it in one shot.
She was posing and photo-ing for at least 10 minutes.
I just have natural instagram skills without actually having instagram.

Photos we sent to the sisters

If you want to know more, I'll probably write more about the guy later, after I get his express permission to publish all the poems I've written for him and the video he did for me of an Irish Riverdance, the traditional way to propose marriage in his part of Northern Ireland.