Christmas Time

My very own first Christmas tree



I am spoiled here in Canby. The maintenance men come over and shovel my driveway and check for bats in the house for me and everyone for the most part works together. As a traveling PT, you kind of get used to being tossed around and not treated the best because they know you won't be here for long. But in Canby, it's not like that at all. Last week, I was a little nervous that I would not be able to make it home for Christmas due to the snow blizzard. The thought of spending Christmas alone in my house with my dog and possible bats that I hear through the walls was a bit disheatening. But as much as Christmas is not about presents and things- it's also not about my family. It's about something so much grander and bigger. Canby actually let me get off work a day early to make it home!!

Dance for African

I couldn't download these when I was in Africa, but here are some videos of African dance (or as they say in pigeon 'dance for African') and drums. Enjoy!

Readjusting

It's weird to think that I've been in the States for over a month already. It feels so long ago and yet I'm still readjusting. I've starting working back in Canby, MN. The first week was really tough for me. I'm glad that I was able to come back to a familiar working environment and one where the people are all so nice and great to work with. I wasn't expecting to be so emotionally affected by just walking into a developed world hospital again. It was.....quiet, and people made sure not to talk loud, and there were little beeping monitor noises, things were clean and sterile, and each person was in their own little room cut off from other people, and it just seemed lonely and depressing. Even though there was death all around me in the hospitals in Africa, families were always there and people were always talking and laughing, there was this strong sense of community. The hospital in the States gave me this overwhelming feeling of loneliness which was not present in Africa. It took me a good week or so to overcome this reverse culture shock.
I still want to say 'ashaw', which basically means I empathize with you, to all of my patients in pain. I have to stop myself from saying 'good morning' and other extended greetings because simply a 'hi' will do when passing someone by in the hall and anything longer may just be taking too much time. My patients all have had extensive tests or whatnot done and I know what's going on with them as opposed to extremely weird symptoms with no real known reason as to why this person is experiencing them. I know exactly what my patient means when they are describing their symptoms.
Before I started work at Canby, my best friends from PT school (Danna and Danielle) flew in to see me for a day! I am still amazed that they did that. I truly have been blessed with wonderful friends and family!

Missing my other home

Well, I’ve been ‘home’ for over a week and thought it was time to write another blog about my reverse culture shock. My first feelings when I got back really surprised me. I thought I would be extremely put off by how our culture has this need to buy and have new things, but instead I wanted to have a new outfit. I felt like a kid during Christmas. Being able to walk on smooth parking lots and carpet, eating cookie dough, driving my car, taking a hot shower for longer than 3 minutes, sitting by a fireplace and sleeping in were all things that seemed so different and new to me. I call those first few days my euphoric stage.
And now…I don’t know….I’m torn. I read this quote that I felt really fit: ‘I struggle between two worlds yet ultimately yearning for another’. How can two completely different ways of living both feel like home? I’m in the States with my mom and loving the time with her and yet finding myself missing my ‘ma Margaret’ back in Cameroon. I stand in church wanting to speed up the tempo and African church dance. I automatically say ‘amen’ after each prayer finding myself the only person who is saying it. Through learning a different way to worship and love God, I’ve seen a different side of God. It’s like seeing how a dear friend interacts differently with someone else and through seeing that, you come to a deeper and richer comprehension of who that person really is.
I’ve gotten many emails from the other Westerners over in Cameroon. Apparently I was only 4 days short of missing grasshopper season! So disappointing as I really wanted to just try eating one to see what it tastes like. I helped set some of my Cameroonian friends up with email addresses before I left. Internet is a new thing in Cameroon as most Cameroonians don’t need it and computer access is limited. I got my first email from one of my Cameroonian friends the other day. Fred was one of my Cameroonian physical therapy co-workers that I really connected with. I wanted to share a little of his letter because it really touched me:
“ Hi Dr. Jayme how was your journey back home? we here are still feeling your depart one week after. I hope you did had a nice journey back home. Your present was highly felt by all of us here. May the Lord Almighty bless and keep you till we meet again, Amen.
jayme, you made me to see how beautiful our Mbingo is, when you appreciate the topography around. You were so busy and hard working that I in particular was so happy about. Although rain still felt yesterday, the weather have been so friendly that the green grasshoppers started coming. How lovely to both children and adult alike could be seen following these green inserts at night, how I wish you were
there. Also there have been a good supply of nice vegetable for fufu and jama jama. Today in the morning we had a good song leader for some African dance in the chapel. All these makes one to love being around but how about life satisfaction? You can better tell.
Dr extent my warm greetings to your entire family. Please alway remember to pray for us all the days of your life. Your coming here this time have made to write my first Email over there, so you shall remain my sourse of inspiration and hope for the future. remain bless so through you I shall be bless also.”
Fred is a very intelligent person. If he lived in a developed world, he would have had more opportunities to do whatever he wanted-and he knows that. But I think his life is wonderful. He has a beautiful home, two cute kids, loving family, positive work place and his faith. There is this misconception that the Western world is better than the developing world. However, there are things that the developing world has that the Western world is missing and vise versa. I’ve seen a few Westerners even when coming to Cameroon have that attitude of superiority that I don’t think they even realize that they are portraying, but the Cameroonians can tell. Two things happen as a result: 1. The Westerner is not as effective as a medical teacher/professional or witness because the Cameroonians do not like or trust them and 2. The Cameroonians feel like their lifestyle is ‘not as good’ and as a result they yearn for a world in which they believe that all their needs and their family’s needs will be met and they will be completely happy with no suffering. They feel like they are ‘under' or 'below' the Westernern lifestyle and hence, many resort to certain levels of begging even though they don’t need to beg. The hospital depends on donations from Westerners when technically they have enough funds to support themselves. So, when does donating and helping benefit and when does it take away from them being able to walk on their own feet? I know I'm rambling-I'm just homesick.

Recovering from the jet lag...

After just short of 70 hours, I am finally back in Sioux Falls, SD. I find it funny that I traveled through a third world country and overseas, but I had the most trouble when it came to traveling just within the States. I went to check in for my flight in Boston only to find out that there was no such thing as my connecting flight to Indianapolis. It took them over an hour to change my flight from going to Philadelphia to Indianapolis to Chicago and finally to Sioux Falls. However, when they finally printed out my tickets they realized that there was not sufficient time between connecting flights. They finally switched my airline so I was going to Denver and then Sioux Falls. I got to my gate just as they were calling the last call. 2 slight delays in the plane from Denver to Sioux Falls and I am here!
I'm finding that my reaction to Western life is different than I thought. The smell of pumpkin pie candles, drinking milk, sitting by the fireplace, the smell of crisp air, being able to flat iron my hair, lip gloss. They feel like such luxuries and I'm really loving it. Then, I feel a bit guilty. Is it ok to enjoy these things? I had thought I'd come back to the States thinking I was going to be frustrated with other people- not myself.

Zurich

Grossmunster church

Sara and Christoph

Right now I'm in Boston. My flight landed last night and I am now staying at my wonderful friends' house Jess and Aaron. I felt like I was sleeping on a cloud-the bed is so comfortable. Not that I'm complaining, but it feels so much nicer than the one in Africa where I felt the wooden boards through the mattress.
Zurich was a little chilly, but I decided to go out and explore anyways. I am so proud of myself that I didn't get lost or take the wrong train! Sarah and Christoff, a couple from Switzerland but now in Mbingo printed out a map for me, told me where I could go, and even showed me some key landmarks and train signs to look for on their computer so I didn't get lost. Zurnich is such a cute city! Very beautiful churches and houses. I walked downtown until I reached Lake Zurich. Sara and Christoph said that I would be able to see the Swiss Alps there, but is was too cloudy :( Sadness. I did see them a little from the airport though.
Just one more day of flying and then I am back home!

Saying Goodbye

Well, I'm sitting here in the Zurich airport waiting for it to get a little warmer and the weather to clear before I go to explore (I have a 10 hour layover here). These last few days have been so draining. I am saying goodbye to family and new friends. The last day, my fellow physical therapists gave me a send off party with fufu and jama jama. I finally lost it and the tears started flowing when they prayed that God would be with me and guide my footprints wherever I go. That as they were praying for me, they knew my family and friends were praying for me over in the States.
I am almost halfway done with getting all the way back to Sioux Falls. The drive from Mbingo to Douala was not fun. I get car sick easily and they had to pull over 2 times for me to puke out on the side of the road. We made a detour to Limbe for one of the passengers, so I got to see a glimpse of the ocean from the other side. It's weird going from a third world country airport and arriving in one decorated with beautiful Christmas decorations, chocolates and smells of expensive perfume. I thought coming back to the States right before the holidays would be good idea so I could be with family during that time. I wasn't thinking about how it would affect me going from a place that 200$ a month is an extremely rich person to the consumerism of black Friday and the sort.
Here are some pictures of my last few days.

The last stretch...

These last few days have been crazy with trying to fit as much stuff in my days as possible. I had 4 meals and 2 tea parties today and have barely had time just to unwind and think. Plus, I feel like my stomach is going to explode. Tomorrow is even busier I think with work, a 'surprise' gathering for me from my PT co-workers, volleyball tournament, supper and then Bible study. Pat had me over for her famous waffles with fruit tonight. Pat is retiring this year from PT and they are looking for a PT to teach...so we'll see where God leads us... I so often feel that my life is comparable to a sailboat. I just have to go where the breeze is blowing me. Sometimes I can see land and know that is where I'm supposed to port for a while, but most of the time, the destination is not clear in sight until the very last moment. I just have to trust. Maybe someday I'll have a permanent place to call home, but I don't know. I think I have ADD. I can't stay in one place for long. I love the traveling. Getting to meet new people and know a different way of living. It's fasinating. All I know is that right now I just have to keep sailing and go where the breeze is calling me to go. Next stop is home for two weeks and then I am returning back to Canby Minnesota for at least 13 weeks.

Thanksgiving

My last week here. The more I start to think about heading back to the States, the more excited I get. It’s going to be hard to leave, I’ll miss Cameroon. But I’m ready to be home. I figured out that my journey back to Sioux Falls is going to take approximately 55 hours or so. At first I was really not looking forward to my 11 hour layover in Switzerland, but then I talked to a couple from Switzerland and they printed out a map of Zurich and told me what things I can go see (the Alps!!). The map looks pretty easy to follow, so I’m hoping that I won’t get lost.
October and November are known as Harvest or Thanksgiving time in Cameroon. What they do is that they donate some vegetables or fruit from their gardens to the church. After the church service, they auction the food off and the proceeds go to churches that are in very rural Cameroon that do not have enough money to support itself. And that’s Thanksgiving for the Cameroonians. Not getting to eat a lot of food, but donating their own so that others can eat. After yesterday’s church service, I went to a co-worker’s house and met his wife and children. I ate sweet yams and avocados while watching African dance videos. They loved having snaps (pictures) taken of them.

Mbingo Hill

For my last Saturday hike in Cameroon, I decided to climb Mbingo hill. We had some warnings about going up there due to animal traps, snakes and very high grass. But this was something that I really wanted to accomplish before I left. I convinced some of the other short termers and one Cameroonian to go with me. It was a short, but demanding hike. Mbingo hill looks smooth from a distance, but it is really rocky and volcanic rock. The grass went up over our heads. The view of the hospital from up top was amazing and I'm so glad I got to make it to the top before I left.

Arts and Crafts

The Central Baptist Convention has a program called the rehabilitative program. Although there are rarely any new cases of leprosy here anymore, there are still people who have obtained it from years ago. Amputations, hand deformities and decreased sensation are a few of the remaining difficulties of people with leprosy. I tried to teach the librarian how to set up an email account and it took at least an hour and a half just to sign up due to the mouse on my computer being touch sensitive. What the rehabilitative program does is it teaches these people how to do different arts and crafts to sell in order to make an income. The hospital sells their embroidery work and it is beautiful. I am amazed at how someone who not only has hand deformities, but also minimal to no sensation could embroider these beautiful tablecloths.

Radio Talk

Today I spent 3 hours being interviewed for the Bamenda public radio station sponsored by the Central Baptist Convention. They have a health program every Monday talking about various health issues to the people around Bamenda. A lot of people don't go to seek health care right away or they go to Traditional African medicine doctors first. You know when a patient has gone to a traditional healer by looking at the scars on their skin- traditional healers cut the area that hurts and try to 'bleed' out the pain. I interviewed for 3 shows: cerebral palsy, motorbike accidents and dizziness. We tried to find a quiet place to interview and ended up recording in my room. Here's Namondo saving one of our interviews.

Pat and Joy

I found out about physical therapy in Mbingo from Joy Karges who now a professor of physical therapy at the University of South Dakota and member of my home church. I don't even remember how long I've known Joy, but she had been encouraging me to do physical therapy since I was in middle school. Joy came here about 20 years ago as a student to learn physical therapy in third world countries. I even found some of her PT school books that she left here 20 years ago. She is still contributing to the physical therapy department in Cameroon. She donated some money for an educational course and there was some leftover money to which Pat Lenz, the PT here, used to buy this skeleton. Pat is a native of North Dakota and has been here 37 years doing physical therapy!! This year is her last and she is retiring to either North Dakota or Sioux Falls. She has just handed down her position to another PT Cameroonian at the convention last week. She has done amazing things for physical therapy in Cameroon and I am sure she will be greatly missed.

Break Time

A lot of times someone gets a dash from a patient (gift of money for a service). So we all share the gift and buy puff puffs (Cameroonian doughnuts which are my favorite Cameroonian treat).

Conference pics

Presenting me with a woven basket for being the guest speaker


Teaching the Epley maneuver


Teaching Vestibular physical therapy

Lectures

This week was our big physical therapy conference in which I was the guest speaker. Physical therapy workers all throughout the Baptist convention in Cameroon came to Mbingo to meet. There were 4 main days in which I gave a 1-2 hour lecture on a topic and then lab in the afternoon. I wanted to cover different areas of physical therapy- so I chose to introduce vestibular PT (for inner ear dizziness), cervical radiculopathy, traumatic brain injury cognitive strategies and differential diagnosis (how to look for signs that a patient's pain is not due to something not related to the musculoskeletal system). I was a bit nervous going into it, especially teaching something so new like vestibular, but everyone really picked it up! They were so excited to learn something new. I felt so honored by everyone there. They told me that my accent was really easy to understand and that I was the best guest lecturer that they've had! They all went in together and got me a weaved basket to say 'thank you' and for a remembrance of them. So, it was a very rewarding week- but now I'm very tired and glad that I have the weekend to relax! I'll post pictures once I get them uploaded.
Less than 2 weeks left here. I've been here long enough to where Africa is the 'norm' for me. I'm preparing to go home and I'm so excited to come back and see everyone, but I think I'm going to have a bigger culture shock when I get back as opposed to when I came to Cameroon.

3 weeks and counting

I can't believe that I only have 3 more weeks in Africa. I'm excited to come back and be with my family again, but I am so sad to leave. I'm feeling like maybe God is calling me to come back here for a longer period of time.
I got a cold this week and I was feeling so crummy that I took Thursday off. In Cameroon, if somebody is sick you are all supposed to go and visit them. Hence, all my PT co-workers came to make sure that I was ok. One of them even bought me a big bushel of fresh bananas. He said that I needed to eat a lot of fruit to get better. Margaret and Rose, the kitchen staff, even put fresh ginger root in my tea to make my thoat feel better.
Next week, all of the physical therapy staff from Cameroon are traveling here for a 5 day conference in which I am giving all the lectures. I'm a bit nervous, but excited for the challenge.
Grasshopper season is coming up in a week or so. My co-workers are going to boil and dry me some grasshoppers to eat. "They taste like cookie" they say. Well....we'll see...


Oh! and here's a funny story that one of my co-workers told me about two missionary men who came to Cameroon to witness to the people without really taking the time to know their culture first. The missionary men believed that in order to really be a Christian, you have to speak in tongues. They were talking to 2 other Cameroonian men and the Cameroonian men said they wanted to ask Jesus into their lives. The missionaries had them kneel on the ground while they placed their hands on their heads and prayed for them to reicieve the Holy Spirit. After a while, the 2 Cameroonian men's knees were starting to hurt from the kneeling and they bagan to talk to each other in their native tongue about their knees hurting. To which the missionaries replied "They are Christians! They have the Holy Spirit in them because they are speaking in tongues!!!" To which the Cameroonian men looked at each other and laughed.

Home Visit

Maxaline, one of the physical therapy staff, invited me over to her house to eat and watch some African dance videos. Her house is only 5 minutes away from the hospital in what used to be one of the leprosy camps. We ate fufu and jamajama while watching really corny music videos in Pigeon and other dialects on AIDS prevention and so forth. I told her that she needed to actually teach me how to dance, so we pushed the table aside and danced. She said I was pretty good for being white.

More prosthetics

Before....

After

It's really amazing what the Cameroonians do do here. This is Steven who came to the hospital specifically for above knee amputee prosthetic fitting and therapy.

All Modesty Aside...

I find it funny how some things that are considered rude or weird in the States is normal here. If you have a sprained ankle, they therapists tell you that if you weren't so fat, it wouldn't hurt so bad. They even made one of the patients stand on the scale in front of everybody to prove it!
Patients also aren't as 'shy' in terms of modesty. I have patients come into my treatment room, proceed to tell me that they have lower back pain, and then proceed to take off their pants and pull down their underwear to show me exactly where it hurts. Not only that, but other therapists are frequently coming in and out of the treatment room and the patient does not seem to care if the door is open with their fanny half showing. I've had a few women I'm treating for neck pain and when they roll to lay on their back, they are completely exposing their breasts and don't really seem to notice. I inwardly debate whether I should pull their shirt up to cover or just ignore it like they do. Usually I just ignore it and leave it to the patient's discretion. I did have to draw the line when I had a patient with a vaginal hernia who wanted to show me it. I can teach pelvic floor exercises without having to see that, thank goodness!

Who am I?

This last week I’ve realized something that I really already knew. Sometimes I think too much like a Westerner! When I reflect on things I have done here I want to make a check list of items I have done to improve the physical therapy community here, but I can’t. I can’t because in Cameroon, the thinking is more holistic than bullet point. I thought I needed to work every day until the last minute and had to be busy all of the time otherwise I’m not being productive. That’s what we are in America, right? Busy, busy, busy. You ask someone how things are going and they’ll tell you ‘good’ or ‘busy’. A good employee is a ‘hard worker’. I’ve found that that is not how it works in Cameroon. It’s ok for me to take the day off to explore Bamenda, or take a few afternoons off to enjoy different African cultures. In fact, the Cameroonians are MORE pleased and welcoming to me when I do skip work to explore their culture. They are more open to discussing changes in physical therapy once they know me and know that I want to know more about THEM. To be honest, we don’t get as much done as we could if you’re speaking in terms of productivity. But I am more of a family, or group member here than anywhere else I’ve lived.
I’m finding that the longer I am here, the more ‘Cameroonian’ I am becoming. When new Westerners arrive, I feel a bit estranged or frustrated with their Western way of thinking. I’m finding that I don’t quite know where I ‘belong’ anymore. I’m used to going to chapel every morning and squeezing as many people on the pew as possible (there is no such thing as personal space) and saying ‘good morning’ to everyone I pass and shaking their hands and stopping to actually talk to people during work instead of focusing on what task I need to accomplish next. My focus has changed from ‘what needs to be done’ to ‘who do I need to talk to’. I still have that personal space bubble compared to the Cameroonians, but less so now than previously.
It’s been amazing observing and being a part of worshiping with the Cameroonians. Everyone here believes in something. There is no “it’s my personal business” because in this collectivistic society nothing is really just one person’s business, everyone is involved and a part. I find myself singing Cameroonian church songs outloud during work. Everyone else does-they don’t care if anyone hears their poor singing-they are joyful. People dance and clap in worship (but making sure not to bump into their neighbor due to what I’ve stated above about absolutely no personal space in church). In the States, we focus so much on our personal relationship with Christ. In Cameroon, we focus on what we can do to please God as person and a group. Cameroonians want to know what we should DO to be a disciple, we want to sacrifice ourselves to please Him. The focus is different. I've been talking to a Cameroonian friend who has become very close to me. He couldn't explain his relationship with God without bringing forth an action. He couldn't say he loved God without explaining what he is doing to fulfill God's purpose or to bring forth God's will. It's not just an individualistic or one-on-one feeling of love for God, it's the actions you do because you love God. Cameroonians think collectively about their faith and Westerners tend to think more individualistically. Cameroonian Christians state WE need to pick up our cross and truly follow Christ. Westerner Christians state I need to pick up my cross and follow Christ.
I’m starting to wonder who I will be when I return to the States. I’ve changed. I haven’t really had a place I’ve called ‘home’ for the past year or so, but now I am even more confused as to where I truly belong. Who will I be when I go back to the States? Will I revert back to all of my Western ways? Do I want to?

JuJu's

Earlier this week, the fon of Kom died. Kom is the community the Mbingo is in and an fon is kind of like the tribal cheif. Emmanuel thought it would be a good experience for me to go the the traditional African ceremony of the fon so I could see some juju's. I've asked many Cameroonians and missionaries on what juju's exactly are. Everybody's description is different. For staters, juju's are supposed to be covered from head to knees so that no one knows who they are. In the 'old' days, they were thought of as spirits and could not talk when they were in costume. Juju's only appear at festive events and non-Christian funerals. Christians are not juju's as extreme juju's practice black majic. Some think there's nothing wrong to enjoy seeing juju dances and others believe that you should not be going if you are a Crhistian. I decided that since Emmanuel is a pastor and since the other missionaries have seen juju's, that it would be ok to experience it.
The instruments they used for the music was different from the church and chapel drums. In the picture above, you can see two banana tree trunks with wood boards accross it, this is the African xylophone which was really interesting to hear. There were different types of juju dances and some of them would go around and poke at you with their sticks or jab their knife in the ground in front of you until you give them money (if you know me well, you know that I HATE people poking at me, so this did not go over well). Most juju's had palm nuts attached to their ankles so that when they stomped and jumped, their feet made music. Emmanuel's son took my camera and bribed the juju's with money so he could take their pictures.
The scariest part was when a 'bad' juju from the Cameroonian palace came. These are the juju's who blatantly practice black majic and voodoo. If you did not bow to them, they had every right to beat you. One of my PT coworkers told me that when her husband died, juju's came to her house during the night and would not leave til she gave them money. She told me that she had to throw it over the door because if she came out of the house and got too close to one "it would give me a baby". To which I asked, "you mean, rape you?" to which she replied "yes". The bad juju's cannot go in the women's hut. Thankfully I was standing right outside this and the older women pulled me into the hut. I sat it this little dark hut with all of these women cooking fufu and bitter leaf over a coal fire for the men who were related to the deceased fon. The women wanted me to eat the food. At first my Western way of thinking wanted to decline. I didn't want to be imposing and eating the fufu intended only for the men of the family. But I knew that I may offend if I didn't. They were so delighted that I ate their food! I told them 'thank you' in their native tongue and they were so happy. We stayed in the hut for quite while until the bad juju finally left.
So, while it was a good experience, I think I've had my share of juju's in Africa and don't need to see it again!

Back at work

Physical therapists do a little bit of EVERYTHING over here. We make splints, do casting, do PT stuff, prescribe medications, give weight bearing instructions on orthopedic patients, and I even attempted doing some speech therapy last week. I haven't taken very many pictures of the patients at work because I didn't know how they would react to me wanting to take it. I have found that they are very honored at having their picture taken. In fact, most patients get a photographer of them in their new cast with the PT team or their physicians because it is such a monumental moment of their lives.
The guy above had an unstable compression fracture of his L1 vertebrae. In order to prevent further injury to the spine and cause spinal cord injury, we put him in a body cast. Not too comfortable, but very important! But you have to remember to put some padding over the belly while you make the cast so they can eat and not feel constricted. What is this pad called?-What else but the 'fufu pouch'.

Funerals

This week has been a bit tough for me. Phil, another short term missionary physician, left back for the States making me the only short term person here for a while. I don't know why, I've just been emotional. Thursday morning I was eating breakfast and just tearing up for no reason at all. It had been raining 5 days and I think the cabin fever got to me. I decided I needed a break from work that day and decided to go to Bamenda with Phil and the Palmers. I got to shop with Nancy and just get some time out of Mbingo. Nancy gave me a book on reaching across cultures which is really good. I never thought of Jesus going through the biggest 'culture shock'. Just think of being used to being God and having to become a human. Interesting...
I went to a funeral for a hospital staff member today. When someone dies, they are buried in front of the house they built. It took about an hour's walk to get to the house. There was a small sermon with other small speeches from family and work people. When that was done, the African drums started. People were dancing and singing when they brought the coffin out and placed it in the big hole in front of the house. They then proceeded to put dirt on top of the coffin. To pack the dirt down, the workers danced on the grave. Gives a new meaning to the phrase 'dancing on some one's grave', doesn't it? Gunshots were sounded and people were celebrating because they knew this man was in heaven. The ceremony ended by placing fufu and jamajama on top of the grave (it's not an event unless there is fufu and jamajama).

Another Saturday

Every Saturday morning,they have a praise and worship time in chapel. This Saturday was the physical therapy department's turn to lead the songs and perform the African church dance. Initially, they were going to have me lead one of the songs. Me being a tad type A told them that I would do it if they wrote out the words and we practiced it a few times. Cameroonians are NOT known for their planing ahead skills. They decided that it would be too much work to actually write out the songs, so I could just be a backup dancer. It was fun to sing and dance to the drums. No one laughed at me (that I saw) so I think I did pretty good.
Went for another hike with Phil and Dennis. Went over a 'bridge' pictured above that I thought would break beneath me as I went over it. We almost got to our destination when it started to rain again. With rainy season, it can be perfectly blue skies at one moment and then pouring 30 minutes later! We were in the middle of the bush (wilderness) with no trail along the side of the mountain when it started to pour. We sat down on the grass with umbrellas and when the rain didn't lift for 45 minutes, worked our way back in the rain. We didn't reach our destination, but it was a memorable hike none-the-less.

FuFu and JamaJama

Huckleberry leaves



Water FuFu


The traditional dish of Cameroon is called FuFu and JamaJama. FuFu is a cornmeal based ball that really has no flavor at all and JamaJama is Pigeon for Huckleberry leaves. You take your fingers and scoop up the FuFu and squish it together with the JamaJama. I made the mistake of eating the whole ball of FUFu and I felt like I had a bowling ball in my stomach the rest of the day! My favorite Cameroonian food so far are puff puffs. They are basically fried balls of dough and they taste so good.

Hope

My mom is doing some women's retreats on the topic of hope and asked me how hope is viewed differently in Cameroon or how my view of hope has changed. In Cameroon, you never hear someone 'hope' for a material thing. No one ever says "I hope to get enough money to make a bigger house". Even the much-to-do people of the hospital live in little village-type houses like everyone else and there is not the need or want to have something bigger. Values are placed in people, enough food, and getting a good education (it costs them money to send their children to school).
People take accidents and death as a natural part of life. There is no anger at God for pain. Nobody that I have talked to ever asks "Why is God doing this to me?" Pain is a fact of life and they are so grateful that you are trying to help even if it doesn't seem to make a difference. I was talking to a patient to has become dear to me about pain. She is in the hospital and might not have enough money to stay in a hospital bed, but she might be able to sleep on a mat on the cement floor. Every time I talk to her, she tells me how good God is. That he has given her life and a wonderful family and loves her. If God chooses to humble her by having her sleep on the floor, then she will gladly be humbled by God, she said. How many people in the States say that. Working in the U.S. health care system, I hear people trying to get the most out of things and angry if they can't get the best of a certain service or demanding sometihng else. If God chooses to humble you, would you joyfully take in it. Would I delight and rejoice in suffering for my Savior? Or would I complain, be angry or try to demand people to help. Would my pride overcome me? The testimonies that have stirred my heart have always been the ones of people who are in such pain or difficulties and yet, are full of joy and love and thankfulness to God. Hope that God will bring them to healing. Hope that if not, God will not leave them even so. Hope that they will be truly reunited with God in the end. Every time someone dies in the hospital, their caregiver and family scream and wail for at least 5-10 minutes. You can hear their screams echo throughout the halls. All other noise seems to stand still.
I would say that I still have my different hopes in this life, that hasn't changed. But the way I view my hope for the eternal has a little bit. I still remember going to London with John Samuel to visit a church and try to start a missions trip over there. The service that day was full of missionaries from all over the world. We sang songs praising God in worship in some Indian language. 30 some different primary languages singing in unison, harmonizing with one another. From all over the world, so many different stories and cultures, but we were one. We all had Jesus. Just think of how heaven will really be like. So many different people from different places and ages-all in unison and harmony at the same time. God is good. I hope to be able to see the people I have met here and grown to love again in heaven. My goodbyes to them aren't really goodbyes as much as 'see you later'. God is Good.

Some rest and relaxation

Dr. Sparkes and his family are from San Diego and have been in Cameroon for over 4 years now. He designed and helped build their family house which is beautiful. The above pic is the view from their veranda. They asked me to house sit and watch their dog while they went to Younde for a few days. Needless to say from my previously stressful week, I really needed to get away from my little room connected to the hospital. I've realized how many 'little' things about the States that I have missed here. Like being able to have a good hot shower for more than 3 minutes, sleeping in a bed where you don't have to move around in order to not feel the wooden boards beneath you, just being able to sit in an actual couch and watch a movie, holding a big mug with tea, and walking my dog. The Sparkes even have a trampoline that I can jump on! It was so amazing to sit on the veranda with a cup of tea and just have some truly alone time and look at the scenery. It was a much needed weekend of resting and relaxing. I went to a wedding on Sunday. It was incorporated into the service. Church here usually lasts about 2-3 hours (unheard of at a church in the States!), but with the wedding it lasted just short of 4 hours. The Cameroonians laughed at me when I said the wedding was long compared to the States because they thought that the wedding was really short! I guess their weddings can last from 9 AM to 4 or 5 PM!! The church was decorated with balloons and paper chains. The bride was wearing a western wedding dress with poofy sleeves. There's the bridal procession, the actual wedding and vows, about an hour of music, then another hour of the church sermon, followed by all the toasts and cutting of the cake and then more music. Not that I'm complaining-it was a beautiful wedding- but 4 hours on a wooden bench gets to be really long. The wedding reception and food is open to anyone. Sometimes around a thousand people show up to eat. Cameroonian men sometimes don't get married until they are in their 30s because it costs so much and they have to save up.

Say hello to my little friend

This little guy was sitting on a flower outside my room. I've decided to name him Kermit.

The Rizzuti Family

A few days after I fist came to Cameroon, the Rizzuti family flew from North Carolina for a 3 week medical mission. It was so nice having them around. I didn't have to eat my meals by myself and they had me over to their house for games and campfires. I've gotten pretty close to Rich, Meredith and their two girls (Emma and Nyah). Today, they are making their trek back to North Carolina. I'm going to miss them! Phil is a radiologist from Mayo who came last week and is here for another 2 weeks. I've found that there are many hellos and goodbyes with this lifestyle. I have been meeting people from around the world- some in a short passing by and others who I have gotten very close to and have become so dear to me. The last full day for the Rizzuti's, we went for a hike up the mountains behind the hospital and had a beautiful 360 degree view of the place.

The culture shock may be finally setting in...

This week has been a hard week. I am very glad that it's the weekend and I can just relax. I have been trying not to think "why can't you just think like me?" I will evaluate a patient only to have the other physical therapist tell me I am wrong- and I know I'm not! But not being from here- I just do as he says. If I were in the States, a lot of therapy treatment here would be considered unneeded/unwarranted. It's frustrating! I delivered a talk on Cerebral Palsy today which I think went well. My mouth got so dry because I have to over enunciate each word so that they can understand my accent.
On the other hand, I really do like the other staff I am working with. The other day during work we had some down-time and they were teaching me how to do the African church dance. Most of the time during the dance lesson was spent laughing at me, but it was really fun. Next Saturday during chapel, the physical therapy department is in charge of music and they think that I should lead it with dancing and singing. I'm thinking it will probably be more of a laugh fest than worship fest-but I'm up to it :)

Prosthetics!

The prosthetics department have some metal below knee and above knee amputee prothetics, but not everyone can afford to buy one. Therefore they make some below knee prosthetic legs out of bamboo. The bamboo is hollow and they just weave a basket inside for the stump to fit in. How cool is that?

And the rain rain rain came down down down....

This week has been incredible rainy. On Thursday, it rained a total of 4 and a half inches (2 of those inches were in one hour's time span). Usually I love a rainy day, but I have really been missing blue skies lately. When it rains here, there is really nothing to do but read and stay inside and sometimes the rain lasts all day. I have learned to appreciate a patch of blue sky or a dry day. Yesterday, I went on a hike with Christine (a missionary anesthesiologist from Canada) up behind Mbingo hill. We had a herd of horses we walked through along the way. It was just so peaceful and beautiful. There seems to be never ending hills upon hills when looking into the distance.

Pulmonary Physical Therapy

So, most of us physical therapists have been taught pulmonary physical therapy, but not many of us use it in the States. In essence, pulmonary PT has to do with expanding the chest wall, breaking up mucous by means of percussion and breathing techniques. This lady has some congenital anomaly and is very small. She came into the hospital after her stomach kept expanding for two years and she figured she wasn't pregnant. They surgically removed a 19 pound ovarian cyst! (the sugeon said he once removed a 50 pound tumor from somebody here) Because of the cyst was so big, it impinged her diaphragm's ability to fully expand and she was not able to have a productive cough. I came in and did some gentle percussion to break up the mucous in her lungs. The day before she left, she requested me and told me that she is able to breath so much better and she thinks she would've died from inability to breathe without my help.