3 am

When Ms. Leishimi called to me at 3 am this morning, I knew something was up. Who would dare wake me at such an ungodly hour in the morning? Like always, I answered her like I was wide awake... A lie. It was a medical emergency she said. A mother near delivery was bleeding out. Not good.

And so I threw on some clothes and gathered my things as all of my mother/baby knowledge from a year ago flooding in my mind. "What if she had placenta previa or an abruption of the uterus? Those are both medical emergencies and must be seen in a stable setting. I prayed a lot in those moments getting ready. Prayed for life as I was so very tired. I prayed for Ms. Leishimi and myself for wisdom as far as what to do. Our knowledge is very small compared to physicians but it's been incredible seeing the Lord give us knowledge and multiplying our efforts. Patients have been made well; not by our little work though. Mercy.

I drove the waker behind the sumo. I prayed again. This time, for enough light to see where I was going and that the dust from the sumo in front of me would blind or choke me, sending me into peril as I drove off a cliff. When we arrived at the home, the two midwife students and Ms. Leishimi and all gathered into the tiny home. We went to work. The mother complained of painful bleeding not associated with any labor. I immediate thought "placental abruption!" (Thanks Mrs. Dedeker) Ms. Leishimi and I tossed around the possibility of this mother suffering from placenta previa or abruption. Both still bad. Both still medical emergencies.

I yelled advice from the outside as the ladies did all the assessments of the patient (men not allowed in the room). I read up mother/baby complications as they continued.

I initially suggested the hospital knowing that if she was suffering from either of these complications, the baby and mother could die during labor. Or the baby before labor (side note: the men and some other mothers are sitting next to me in the yard of this patient as we wait for the ambulance. Every time they say Doctor, I know they're talking about me. Even though I don't know what they're saying, it's nice to be referred to as a doctor :) )

We tried to call Auntie Lois, the midwife teacher at the compound. She also suspected placental abruption and suggested a non stress test and definitely a trip to the hospital. We informed the family. Interestingly, here at our location, the people don't like going to the hospital too often. They believe their local medicine will work or that the situations aren't that serious. Or they don't have money. This family made all these excuses including having another child around 18 months who was a little sick. They weren't sure where to leave him. Moreover, they didn't make a birthing card for the baby. When doing deliveries at the hospital, they really desire at least this card. If not they could be scolded and the staff mad. My thoughts to all this... WHO CARES!?!? This mother and baby could die! Send the kid to his grandmas or a friend. He shall live without his parents from an evening. Money were were providing and the doctors would just have to be mad. I couldn't imagine having two precious lives die in front of me because of silly excuses. And so we continued to wait.

We performed the non stress test for 50 min. It was here that the lack of sleep began to overcome me. There is nothing more tiring then counting fetal heart rates for 50 min. Besides giving birth and a lot of other things.

After the test, The results showed that the baby would not survive regular birth. Hospitalization was pretty much a necessity at this moment.

We tried again to convince them. They once again wanted to use other means of treatments. This time. Local medicines. My thoughts, Ummm does your local medicine stop bleeding and save the baby??! We need more help. May the Lord be merciful to this family and give them reason on high.

I then went for food cause it seemed like we were just Going to wait out this birth and die trying. I went back down the mountain and drove back to campus got food and returned, asking God to spare these lives or give them enough to reason have them go to the hospital.

ANDDDDD ALABANZA TO THE LORD. They agreed to go to the hospital in the time I was away. Ms. Leishimi did a great job convincing them. We had breakfast and waited. For the ambulance. For help.

To be continued...

Kameron Carter

The Negative Side to be a Math Teacher

 Today I had to scold my students for the first time that I have been teaching math. There is already much struggle with teaching math because most kids hate math and consequently may have a disliking for you or your class. They may not care,  they may cheat, etc. Even after allowing the kids more than 2 days to do the same homework, for I saw that they were still confused, and I forgot to take up their journals, and after reminding them with a stern voice— “make sure this assignment is correct because it WILL be a grade. You now have time to redo the assignment. Please CHECK IT”— their work was still mostly wrong. Only one of my students in this class actually did semi well. The rest were making silly mistakes throughout, coping the problems down incorrectly, or simply not doing problems. That gave me the impression that when I speak with “warning” in my voice, “this problem is also on your HW. Make sure you do it,” they aren’t listening. Moreover, some were making the exact, very unique mistakes, which suggested even with the time given, some were still cheating. This is sad because I offer to tutor every day from 7-830 pm, if they need help.  I understand math is very difficult; however, I believe in what the Lord can do through these kids. And so I threw some grace on the situation because a friend of mine helped me realize that the Lord is soooooooo gracious to us. After going over all the questions in class, I challenged them to redo the homework over the 3 day weekend and show all the work. If then, I saw improvement, I would consider changing their grades.

Oh how my heart hurt when I had to tell me students to pay attention in class, ask questions, don’t cheat, etc. I used my Ricky voice in it all. It’s my scary stern voice. I hope I got through to them; but I also hope they saw the love and concern and Jesus in the way I spoke to them.

Then I thought, “How does Jesus scold us, his children?” How does He speak with love and seriousness at the same time? How gracious is He really to us? Why does He even bother with His children who are rebellious, don’t listen, and constantly sin against me. Then I thought, He is love. But not the love we imagine and “perform” day by day. Our love can’t even measure up to His. The  concept of true Love can’t be put into words. If God is Love and God cant truly be described by human words that are tainted with sin, then Love is also indescribable. At least that’s how I see it. We can saw that God is a man, but if that be the case, then like man, God makes mistakes, which is not God. If God is all-powerful, how far does His power reach? Well infinity we may say; but how far is infinity? I can’t grasp it. In the same manner, that’s how hard it is for me to comprehend the Love that is God. The only thing I can compare it to is what He says in His Word: Love is Him laying down His Son as a sacrifice for a rebellious, sinful, back sliding world.  

That’s crazy. That’s wild. Think about it.

I know I’m only a temporary teacher. Yet, I am the student of the Only indescribable Teacher.

Bless

Chances Are (Prayer Meeting Version)

I am learning to embrace all awkwardness.

Because chances are, if you are me in a distant land like India, one day you will be asked lead the songs prayer meeting.

Chances are it will be the exact day that you are experiencing a mild cold and your throat is dry and scratchy and not made for singing.

Chances are, even though you ask the speaker questions in order to be prepared, it will still look like you have no idea what you're doing when you go up front.

Chances are you will arrive super early to the meeting even though you thought you were late but realize no one else is there. You will start the songs with only a few people in a key a little lower than you would like because you don't want your voice to crack like a small prepubescent boy wearing clothes that are entirely too tight for him.

Chances are, you will want to sing at a normal pace that doesn't sound like everyone is barely holding onto life. When you start singing the first songs a little faster than normal for the congregation, no one will join you because either they know every other song in the adventist hymnal expect for the ones you picked, or they don't want to sing, or they hate me, or maybe the song is too long.

But chances are, the one person who makes your solo song leading into a duet song leading extravaganza will sing in a slow pitched opera like phantom of the opera on Broadway. It will make your faster paced song awkward as you sing above her to get her to sing at your pace.

Chances are, when you finally sing a song you think the congregation knows, they will sing the song awkwardly because their music book is words only and so they sing it how they were taught their whole lives instead of the way the music is written in my book. It will make you look awkward as they pause when there is no literal pause and when they hold out notes that aren't supposed to be held out.

Chances are you will get through it all.

But then chances are, the speaker will ask for the closing prayer and then she will ask you, via sign language, to do a closing song. So you pick one and we sing it slow like we're waiting on some woman to give birth. Then you think in your head, I should give another prayer and everyone will look at you in "agreeance". But instead you go against your gut feeling and just dismiss everyone. Yea it's over

Chances are, this is how is must happen because hey, I'm a missionary in a distant land and that's just how it goes.

glory.




Kameron Carter

Reckless

Someone was murdered yesterday. Not sure the entire details, but they were nearby. It makes a little sense cause today is a bond day in India. Bond days are those days in which rebels of the government declare that they have the power. They do so by killing random people who decide to come out on this day; so we are all staying inside today. There is no school, we aren't going to the Dolongre bazaar, and we aren't going to see patients today. Which is fine because I like life. I like life here too.

Last night, one of the female staff bought a chicken from the village. She wanted the chicken. Right then. At 6 pm when the sun was down. On bond day. And since she convinced me that we would be fine, I drove her out to the village on the waker. Plus, God always gives us safe travels. And so we drove out. Every pedestrian we passed by was a suspect. My situation is a little more reckless than others because here when two people of the opposite sex travel together, you had better be married, siblings, or parent and child. If not, some villagers can get upset and attack. This was the second lady I had driven on the waker (Ms. Leshimi and I normally go out). We were safe though. When we got to the lady's house, it was just Ambi, the older lady who is kind of like Ms. Leshimi's grandmother. She knows me well. We talked a little in Garo and got the chicken. The poor fellow didn't know he was going to his death as his legs were tied together and thrown in a bag. Tragic. The female staff member then threw the bag in her back pack and we went back.

I also came down with a little bit of cold recently. So I'm trying to rest up. When the nurses get sick, that is normally the time that everything falls apart. It happened last week when Ms. Leshimi fell ill and it's already happening now with me a little under the weather. Everyone wants to go to the hospital now, everyone needs a bandaid, everyone in campus is sick, and of course the midwife teacher is currently in town getting supplies which makes Ms. Leshimi the stand in teacher. It's a little crazy and reckless. But we'll get through it. I know. One tissue at a time. Day by day. It's going to be a fun week. And a little reckless.

Hobey Ho and here we go.

American Mistakes

 It is only normal to make foreigner mistakes in a foreign land. I’m sure mine have been noting but comical.

There was the time Ms. Leishimi and I went to visit a name named Ragan. In India, older people and authority are given terms of endearment along with their name, such as brother Silas or sister Ella. If you are Garo, you are baboo, nono, achu, ambi, dada (small boy, small girl, older man, older woman, brother respectively) and so on. We came near to Ragan’s house and were unsure if he was home. And so I checked. I yelled “RAGAN!!!” Just like an American, just like in Westside where the residents yell “WHO IS IT!?” from the top of the steps. I should have said Achu Ragan or achu or just not yelled. That would have worked too.

There was the time I ate in the female staff’s house after being invited in repeatedly. Authority later told me, that that would not be tolerated.

Then there were the many times I exposed my money to passersby and thankfully didn’t get mugged.

There were the many times I told the kids I was “going to bazaar” instead of specifying which bazaar I was going to. They still ask me where I’m going on Monday’s and think it’s the funniest thing.

There was the time I talked way too fast to anyone and everyone even though I know the English of the people here isn’t the best and no one can understand me.

There was the time I went to the girl’s bathroom at the restaurant cause the sign wasn’t very clear.

And then there was the time I tried a king chili at lunch… the boys offered me a king chili (pepper) at lunch today. I like hot things and like to challenge my pallet (while on the side trying to prove that I’m not a punk and am willing to try pretty much anything). Well I tore the pepper up with my fingers because the guys told me it was really hot and that I shouldn’t eat it in one bite. Not a problem. They said just to wash my hands really well afterward. Noted. I finished the pepper and my meal; it was a nice one. Then we played UNO like we have recently been doing every lunch. Then my eye itched. And then I just slightly brushed my eye with my finger.

And then someone took a blow torch to my eye. American mistake. The worst mistake. Before Ice Princess (for John) :) Then my eye burned as I fled to my room three quarters blind because I wasn’t wearing my glasses and had an eye closed; having them open was worse. I ran into a clothesline because I couldn’t see and everything is too low for me because nothing is my size. Then I put saline solution in my eyes thinking that would help; it didn’t. So I ran to the spout and flushed my eyes for who knows how long. I got wet. Really wet. The pain at first wasn’t going anywhere and I just knew the dreaded poison was reaching every layer of my eye and I knew I would go blind and never see the face of my smiling wife ever. Too far? Ok too far. In the end, it all washed out with soap, and my sopping wet self went to scrub my hands, nails, bones… to get all the oils out. The guys were concerned which was nice and made me feel a little better that they had done the same before. Still a silly typical foreigner, and in my case, American mistake.

And yet, how many times does the Lord give us such wise council, fare warning, and sage advice concerning everything about our lives? And how many times do we not listen because we think, “ill do it later” or “He doesn’t know what He is talking about.” Unfortunately for us, we don’t always listen and get king chili oil in our eyes. Fortunately for us, His blood like flowing water from the biggest spout ever, covers us, washes our sin, our mistakes, and everything else that is not like Him. And then He makes beautiful things out of our mistakes. Our wrongs into rights, our dirt into flowers, our hate into love. And that’s all right if I do say so. It’s fantastic actually. It’s the beauty of serving the Being of all creation. The one who formed our galaxy and the Andromeda galaxy (look up that Hubble telescope picture if you haven’t seen it).

His Word points us back to Him, away from wrong, away from sin, and back to Him. Why don’t we read it and use it more often? I’m certainly guilty. All the time. And yet, He’s helping me get back to it. Back to the basics. Back to Him. Back to life. Hopefully He will for you too.

That’s what India has taught me today.  

Alabanza.

Sing a Song to the Lord

On Friday nights here at the compound, the guys sing hymns and old songs at the top of their lungs. Its quite fantastic. They don’t care who hears them. They sing anyway. In fact, they aren’t ashamed to do a lot of things. It’s one thing about the guys that makes them so awesome. Oh yea, I forgot to introduce them. There is Blessingson, Bamuram, Suban, Mitun, Muktu, Silas, Robert, Maneese, Timray, Cornel, Rueben, and I think that’s it. Pictures to come soon. All the guys have their own personalities. They are incredibly hilarious, some outgoing, some to themselves, some always smiling, others always displaying the criminal look. They have really grown on me in the 7 days that I have known them. I’m already excited to see how much more times we’ll have together.

Back to the singing. Why don’t we sing more often? Why don’t we care who hears? Why don’t we sing at the tops of our lungs until we’re thrown out into the streets? And even then, we should keep singing. This message we have for the world is so incredible! It must to be preached. And if we don’t tell them, then who will? So many are hurting and crying out for something more than what this world has to offer.

Today, we met a family that told us all about their financial problems, including being held at gunpoint by drug lords for not paying back some kind of debt. They have 10 kids. If any of them died, how would the family go on? We prayed for them. We prayed in faith that according to the Lord’s riches and glory, He would provide for this family.

This is only one reason we should never stop singing. Because the world needs to hear the good news. Lift up your voices. It’s not a matter of whether or not you can sing or if you know the language or it not. It matters what message you are singing. What message are you singing? I ask myself what song I am singing. I hope and pray it’s a song of urgency to this world to prepare for the coming of the Lord, because according to the blessed voices of the Young Men of Springs of Love, soon and very soon, we are going to see the King.

And they all said, Alabanza.

What Its Like

In 10 minutes, im going to summarize my current life here in india. ignore all grammar, spelling and syntax.

So i live at springs of love, a compound and school here in meghalaya india. i teach math to 9th and 10th graders in the morning and visit patients in the morning and evening. I pass out meds, do a lot of assessments, and pretend like i speak the language as i drive around on a scootie that is way to big for me and ms. leishimi.

Everyday i eat rice and curry. every meal pretty much. its good, but i sprinkle some seasonings of cuba to make everything just right.

7 min.

I dont know the language yet, but am attempting to learn Garo and Hindi. prayers are appreciated cause learning at least Garo is very important.

the kids are awesome here. they dont just stare at me anymore. we actually laugh and have good times. the midwife students still stare at me however, and there is this one man who attempts to steal my soul every time he looks at me. idk whats up

im also the host of the new Saturday night live at the compound. the kids love that, especially since they dont get too much fun time in the week.

The chickens and roosters run the place and are the most obnoxious things in life, besides the cows that also walk the streets because they also dont care.


the Lord is forever good to me.

time is up. internet cafe bye!