It Takes a Village

I never thought that I would be leading an ambulance to a villagers house at 12 am in the morning with my head lamp...

The day was relatively pretty good. Busy but good. I had just finished teaching the girls a little bit about volleyball and went to take dinner when Major sir called me to run up the hill. Whenever the boss calls, I always think I'm in trouble just because it's the boss. However our director is probably the best person to work for. I got to his office and he told me to go meet Ms. Leishimi for a delivery. "Whoops!" I thought, I was supposed to tell her about that delivery when it was told me a couple hours ago. But she found out. Alabanza. 

I knew this would be a long night, and so I had the girls take dinner for me. I grabbed all my stuff and sister Rinki sat in back and we were off as the sun went down. Two things I have never done before here in India: ride the motorcycle at night and ride the motorcycle at night with someone on the back. I will admit, deep down, I was afraid. But I kept my cool. 

We arrived on the scene. I thought I was going to be able to go but then I remembered that I had to take sister Rinki back because Ms. Leishimi came with another midwife. And so this began part 2 of sitting for two hours in someone's yard while I didn't know the language. But this time it wasn't as bad.

I noticed lots of things this time. The men sat on one side of the fire waiting while the women and children sat on the other side of the fire. Family and neighbors and even ppl afar off were there waiting for this baby. Then I thought to myself, "it takes a village to raise a child." The baby wasn't even born yet and he already had so many loved ones backing him up. He had a mother and grandmother and aunts and uncles and friends and cousins. He would have many influences and would be raised by the villages. How exciting! I thought to myself how I would like that for my children. To be raised by a group of people who loved him/her and would teach him the ways of the Lord and so much more. 

I passed the time staring back at the children, showing them my light, pretending to speak a little garo. I talked with Ms. Leishimi and Ms. Lilu whenever they came out of the house. Slowly things progressed. I made the silly mistake of saying I was hungry in garo. Next thing I knew, this family that didn't have a lot of money or food made me a whole meal. The father called me into one of the houses-- it took me forever to figure out what he wanted. One of the sisters had made me rice and potato curry. It was so nice of them. Because it's rude to say no to food especially in this instance where I already felt bad for making them slave over for me, I ate all the food. I told the sister I knew a little garo and that I was learning very slowly. She caught on and taught me some things. She also kept giving me more food. Finally I stopped her and ate what I had. After late dinner, around 9, I went out to the fire again. Back to my seat to look like a lost space cadet. One of the men called me to come close to the fire. It was really nice. Then Ms. Leishimi called me in distress. 

When I walked into the house, the first thing I noticed was a high pitched grunting sound coming frome the baby. This is never a good sign. This combined with noticeable retractions in the stomach and deep visible pulling of neck muscles told me that the baby was struggling for air. After a quick assessment, I told Ms Leishimi that we need to give oxygen manually or this baby would tire quickly. She gave the ambu bag and I put to use with the little knowledge I could remember from nursing school. A breath from the ambu every couple of seconds, not pressing the bag fully. 3 secs, breath, 3 secs, breath. Looking at the color of the baby and other signs, things kinda seemed to be going no where. And so I went outside to call Auntie Lois. 

It's times like this that I wished I had a phone. Getting ahold of auntie Lois was painstaking as each call dropped and the phone balance was getting lower. I just need this to work this one time. The whole time I was praying to myself. I finally reached auntie and she told us to give actual oxygen to the baby. Major Sir brought the oxygen tank 

Good thing I paid enough attention in nursing school cause I was able to put together the oxygen tank and mask and make everything work. It's times like this where Ms. Leishimi doesn't know what to do that I start to freak out as she questions me about every unknown thing to her. I just pray and go back in my mind and think of some kind of sound advice from a teacher, a nurse, a doctor. 

After successfully applying oxygen with no sufficient help, we decided to take the baby to the hospital. And that's how i found myself riding the motorcycle through the night again, with a boy on the back who didn't speak English. Never in my 21 years of life would I have imagined myself driving a motorcycle on a super rocky road at 11 at night to get money to take a baby to the hospital. Never. But God is funny like that. We made it to the compound to get some money. Then we made it back. I didn't crash the bike. Alabanza. 

 

And then we waited for the ambulance. The midwives weren't quite oxygenating the baby correctly, so I took the child in my arms and made sure he could get as much help as he could get. I named him. Just because it was easier to call him that name instead of "baby". I won't say yet unless the mother allows me to actually name him. I rocked him and gave him oxygen and thought about how much he was fighting. Fighting for life. He needed the Lord. For every breath. Just like me. Just like us. 

Then I saw the ambulance near and went to lead him to the house with my head lamp. After the ambulance arrived, we tried with much struggle to get the weak mother into the ambulance. Baby, Ms. Leishimi and Rinki sister went as well. We closed the ambulance and they were off. Then I had Lilu gather the village together, that was to raise this child, so that we could pray. We then said our goodbyes and left. 

Found out just now as I write that the mother is fine but the baby is still in the ICU with respiratory distress. Must continue to pray for him. 

I'm thankful we made the right decision. And now one the boys is sick and calls. Nurse Kam on the go. Keep praying for that baby. I want the village to raise him

 

Mmm

Wasn't Ready

I wasn't ready to head up the clinic in Dolongre on Monday.

10 midwives, Ms. Leishimi and I set up a free clinic at the school across the street from the bazaar. We set up chairs and benches and divided up jobs. Originally, there was much chaos, and so quickly I just made all the final decisions because nothing was getting done. Some midwives did vital signs, some did blood sugars, and then Ms. Leishimi and I sat in as doctors, diagnosing people and prescribing medicines. I didn't think people would come. But anytime you have a free service, people come.

As so they came, one by one. They got their vitals and blood sugar checked. Then they sat on a bench in front of us and we asked them what else was going on. All the issues were ordinary and minor and yet I had no idea what I was doing prescribing medicines and solutions to their problems. I thought, "oh my Lanta, I'm going to kill all these people." No one would get better. Maybe worse. Or nothing would happen. I kept prescribing the same meds and told them to come back next week. I figured I would like to know if they actually got better.

I prayed a lot in that time as I gave medicines and advice. I wasn't ready. I prayed the Lord would multiply my efforts to do good in their community and that the people would actually be well. I didn't believe in the medicine and still don't. I believe in the Doctor. He's pretty great. And He's going to have to do a mighty work through my hands and my mouth because like I said, I wasn't ready.

Everyday I'm learning to pray some more and believe a little more in God. And not just to believe in His existence, but to believe in Him. Actually have faith. Actually move with the Idea that "I have brought this before the foot of the cross and now I put it in His hands." Because I wasn't ready. I'm not ready. But actually I am. I don't think God would have called me to do this work if I wasn't ready. He wouldn't have brought "trial one" and "faith test two" and "believe in me three" without the intentions to prepare me for "mission experience 4." I think they were all times to get used to walking with Him. To move from the front of my own line to the back of His, letting Him Guide.

I can tell you that I'm still not ready to do a whole lot of things. I stand of the other side of all my experiences with God and wonder how I got through them. And then I remember that I got through them because He was ready. He's always ready. And if, and only if, I hold His hand, I'll be ready for it all.

I hope you're ready.

Bless.

Kameron Carter

Pimps in the Ghetto

Its true. There are pimps in the ghetto wherever you go. Today we went to see a family in the nearby village due to a suspicion that they might have malaria. When we arrived, we did our ordinary check up procedure and treated the patients accordingly. I was surprised the family was able to immediately pay us such a large sum of money, 1150 rupees or 20 dollars. Normally that kind of money here takes some time to collect. Then they told us a story.

They said that they owned a lot of beetlenut tress. Beetlenut is like tobacco that they use for many activities here. Beetlenut sells well in these parts and they were able to get 1 lack of rupees which is 100,000 rupees. With money like that, a family could easily live off the profit or built a house or buy a waker or many other things. And so we asked them why we didn't see a new nice house or a waker that could be used to make more money or something else that could bring in more income. The uncle told us that the country side is filled with underground agents that keep close eyes on the people. When villagers suddenly have something nice that they normally have never been able to afford, such as a cement house or a motorcycle or waker, the underground takes note that they have probably gained access to a large sum of money. And therefore they come to the house and request sometimes 3 or 4 lack, when the family has only made 1 lack. If the money is not given, the underground shoot the members of the household, take what little money they have and then keep moving as is taking a walk through the park. They know that killing them will keep the fear high in the villages and they will remain on top. Most definitely individuals controlled by a dark force, I was still shocked that someone could be so cruel. That pimps like this exist. That it's getting worse. Ms. Leishimi told me that they could even see us driving by on the motorcycle and scooter or come to the compound and see that we have money and request an outrageous amount. I told her, I have no problem with packing up my stuff and going somewhere else if need be. And yet, I pray angels surround us everyday that we go out. I believe that they do because already miracles have been performed.

Like the time recently that i burned my leg on the muffler of the motorcycle the one time I decide to wear shorts. I fell in a patch of mud that was impossible to get around. When the bike tipped, my leg hugged the muffler nicely. Very nicely. And yet, all was well.

Or how that morning we went to see a sick baby. It was the same baby that I waited for in someone's yard for 2 hours towards the beginning of my time here. And I didn't know garo. And I drunk the milk and the water. And didn't get sick. It was that baby. We got to the bottom of the hill and were told that the baby died the previous night. Shocked. So shocked. He was only a little over a month old. According to this lady, the baby's genitals had retreated into the body and the baby had turned blue and black as if someone had beat him. The mother had waited for us the previous day but due to another 3 am labor and the clinic that same day, we were unable to make it. We are still unsure of what happened to the baby. Maybe the family tried to use garo medicine, which is very strong, to heal the baby. Or maybe their was a congenital defect that would have had to be fixed in a hospital setting. We told the mother to take the baby to the hospital days before things got worse. But she didn't. No money. You wonder what you do in that situation. Borrow money and pay back? Go in faith that the Lord will provide? Let your baby die? Questions.

And even with all this terrible loss, the family had peace in their hearts. We visited the afternoon after the baby died and they seemed alright. I could tell the mother had been crying but she seemed more put together than most mothers. They expressed that the time was sad, but that they would be ok. I'm not sure if God was mentioned but they did let us pray with them. They still laughed at my garo and smiled at my presence. If I can put a smile on the face of a grieving mother, I think that's good for a day's work.

And so even though there are pimps in the ghetto and babies are dying and legs are burning, babies are living and love is thriving, and God is still in control. Their is much joy to be had. And so I'll laugh a little more today and tomorrow. Even at gunpoint. It would be hard, but our mission is sure: to live, breathe, and preach the Gospel to all who will hear. Even to those pimps in the ghetto.

Sigh.

Here we go.

8 and 9

I know the thought of leaving is premature, but it's a thought nonetheless. I shouldn't be thinking about leaving because I just got here. However, I have been here for 1 month 12 days and counting. I was curious how much time I have left, and so I made another countdown. I have approximately 8 months and 9 days until I have to pack up and leave the compound, then leave for America the next day. 

I should be coming out of this honeymoon phase according to the missions book and everyone else's experience. However, I'm still in it I think. Don't get me wrong. There are some days I do miss people at home and I get a little upset when the Internet is Bleh and doesn't allow me to Skype. And yet, I am constantly reminded of my countdown. I only have 8 months and 9 days more for Ming Um and Opanowh to come into my hostel and play in my hammock and ask me to buy them one. Only 8 months and 9 days more to learn Garo and really feel connected with the villagers. Only 8 months and 9 days more to play Saturday night live games with the teens and hear them laugh more than everyone else in the world. Only 8 and 9 to take rice and potatoes for every meal and eat with the boys. Only 8 and 9 to listen to the guys tell me stories about farting until they fall on the ground almost in tears with laughter. Only 8 and 9  to say hello to YoYo, the cutest Manipur  3 year old ever and have her have no idea what I'm saying and vice versa. 8 and 9 to hear Gulapi crying...again and the roosters to crow and make their presence known. 8 and 9 to play volleyball with the guys and 8 and 9 to make the girls laugh. To sneak chilies and drive the motorcycle. To play "honey if you love me" with my director and give 5 worship talks to the congregation in a week. To have the garo children stare at me and all of satan's spawn animals attack me in my hostel. To learn Indian English and drink Maaza and Bourn Vita. To share more Jesus and be shown more jesus. 

Ming Um, one of the funniest children alive, asked me one day when I was going to the nearby town for the day: Sir are you going home?! It was in so much distress you would have thought I told him his dog died. I quickly reassured him that I was only going to be gone for the day and that I would return in the evening. That was only after being here for a couple of weeks. The girls and boys have already told me I can't leave and keep asking me when I'm coming back. They prob ask all the missionaries that. I tell them I don't want to leave but that I will return to visit, at the least, in 3 years after I pay the government some money. They seem to be ok with that answer but at the same time not. They want me to stay and so do I. At least for now.

I'm very quickly becoming Indian in my speech and thought and ways of doing things. Eating with my hands more, using Indian slang and such. This, I would say, is home. And like most of my homes, I don't want to leave too quickly.

But instead of thinking about how much time I have left, I've decided to just go day by day and enjoy the time I have for the weather to almost take my hostel away. To enjoy going to the bazaar and putting on a show. To enjoy driving the motorcycle and making apple crisp in a pot. To sleep on the floor and use the restroom in an outhouse. To take cold bucket 9 pm showers and not shave. Just to take it all in. For im not sure what the future holds. I could go back to the U.S. and be unable to return for whatever reasons. I'm not sure. Do I want it to go that way? No. Will it? I don't know. And so for now, as my 8 and 9 gets to 7 and 8 and 6 and 7 and 5 and 6. I'll take it all in. Day by day. Step by step. 

Oh Jesus come soon so we can all be together.

What a glorious day that will be. 

Bless. 

To Be Continued

That lady is fine. Just in case there were people who were wondering about the lady bleeding from 3 am. She ended up Goin to the hospital and strangely enough, the doctors couldn't find a thing wrong with her. She was admitted for a couple of days and then they let her go home. They never told her or us if she had a detached placenta or placenta previa or anything. Doctors here pretty much think that everyone who is not a doctor is too dumb to understand and doesn't need to know anyway. The doctors run the show. 

Anyway, the lady came home and that sunday she actually delivered just fine. We were not there for the delivery because we were not needed. The families only call if there are complications. We went to see the baby. Such a beautiful beautiful baby girl. Ms Leishimi held the baby, and I sat next to her. And then I was given the privilege to name her.

You never know how unprepared you are to name a baby until the opportunity is thrown in your lap like it was just then. And so I took paper and just started naming off all my close female friends. We went from Cassie, Marie, Chelsea and Brianna, to Emery, Emily, Anna and Amy. I was very much trying to convince them to pick one of my friend's names. I mean how cool it was going to be if I could tell a friend that I named a baby after her. That would be legit. After much thought and convincing, they liked Emery the best! Then we prayed for little Emery. We prayed she would grow up in the ways of Jesus, that her parents would teach her His statutes, that she would love and serve Him all of her days. 

Afterwards we left and were just in awe of how everything played out. From only a couple of days previous, we worried for the life of this mother and baby, fully convinced that she might bleed to death if home delivery was done. And yet we prayed. We prayed for a miracle, the Lord to work on these lives, for us to be wrong. I thought I would love for all of my knowledge of nursing to be wrong just for the sake of this mother and baby. Today, I don't know if I was right or wrong. I just know the Lord did a mighty work like he always does. He was in control and preserved life. That's a miracle, especially because we as humans are so good at messing things up. From these experiences I have learned to pray more, to believe more and to act with the knowledge that God can multiply my little efforts. I'm no doctor. I'm not even a bachelor's level nurse. Just a 21 year old who just became licensed to work in a hospital as an RN. I don't know much, but I do serve an all knowing God. And so far, that seems to be enough. I haven't been called to save the world because One already took care of that. I am called to serve though. We all are. Wherever we are. So serve, I challenge you, and you'll be surprised where it leads you.

What will be your story? Well that, my friends, will be To Be Continued. 

Bless the Lord

The Playground

Every Sabbath afternoon, we have AY or Adventist Youth. Indian Style AY normally consists of a walk and an afternoon program as we prepare to close out the sabbath. Sometimes the walks are short; other times the walks take us to Narnia, Neverland, and the place in that terrible movie, the Neverending Story. Thats how long they can be. This particular walk we went to the playground. Being the silly American that I am, I should have known that the playground was not going to have a tire swing, some seesaws, and a jungle gym in the middle of a jungle in the middle of India. And yet, I am still the silly American.

And so the walk began. First down the hill behind the compound, then literally over the river and through the woods, beneath the bamboo, through the trees, around that one fruit tree in which the children convinced me to eat the fruit that did not take my life, and so on. With each step, I just knew I would never return. I figured if our guide perished, we'd be lost forever and I'd be forced to eat bamboo soup until the animals of the forest finished me off. Moreover, if I fell to my death, who would do the nursing necessary if someone got hurt. Hahaha they wouldn't need me. Anyway, we continued on our path. At this point I was surprised I hadn't seen any snake or giant Lord of the Rings spiders.

We finally got to our destination. It was all before me. I thought it was a joke. But nope, no pinching necessary. It was a playground indeed. It was simply a field where children played. Pretty much a soccer field. That's exactly what it was. An open soccer field. That's it. But maybe I shouldn't see it as just that because I'm sure great things happen at that place. And so we all sat down.

I always find it interesting how often the kids want me to lead out in songs and then no one wants to join in. Just like at camp, I sung with such joy (looking incredibly silly and not caring) until someone joined it. Someone has to get the masses excited about Jesus! The midwives are the funniest. They are all very much older than me and just stare and laugh at me. Sometimes they talk. I wonder if they laugh, look away, stare, or do all three because they think I'm cute or weird or awkward or all three. And so we kind of sang songs until everyone else arrived. Then AY began. Ms Awon led it this time. She split us up into teams. This was the first time I realized that I was at least someone well liked. All the kids wanted to be on my team. It was a nice feeling. It's kinda how you know you are well liked. Half the people who ended up in my team most definitely weren't there to begin with. Ha.

We played a music game where we had to start a song with the first letter of the last word of the previous song that the previous group sung..or.... If group A sung "it is well" and ended the song with "roll" group B had to start a new song with the letter R. You had 30 secs to think of a song. It took half the time to figure out the game, but in the end, it was such a great time. Our fun was short lived because we realized that we were far from campus and didn't want to perish in the forest if it got dark. Ok, I was probably the only one who was thinking like that.

I took the guys on a cross country-like run. I encouraged them like my teammates did for me in high school. The struggle was much more real, however, as we legit climbed mountains and almost fell down them. Probably shouldn't have ran. At one point, we reached the top of a hill and could see the vast expanse of the jungle around. "I live here," I thought. Wild. Literally, it is wild here.

We made it back safe. I'm not writing this from a hospital bed which is proof I didn't lose my life. Alabanza. I'm hoping for more Playground experiences. More days like this. A little more recklessness. A little bit of adventure. More open fields filled with opportunity. Glorious opportunity. Let's do it.

Hobey Ho. 

Camp on Steroids

Anyone who knows me knows that I love camp. I love the area, I love the staff, and I love the kids to death. It takes about  two days, but normally by Tuesday of each week, my kids of shoshoni cabin are like my little brothers, temporary sons, the like. I grow close to them and am always sad to see them leave when Sunday rolls around.

Beings here at Springs of Love is like being at camp on steroids. The area is so incredible. The rolling hills make me feel I like I am always in an adventure. There are places to be discovered, people to see, cows to almost hit with my scooter. The staff I work with make working here filled with countless laughs. Just having causal conversations with them make me laugh. Their English, Indians saying, and mannerisms make every day filled with something to laugh about.

And then there are the kids. I really loved teen camp at ICC because the kids were at an age that I can could have serious conversations with them. I could joke with the kids and they could joke with me. They offered insight to talks but were still awkward. They were blossoming young men and women and reminded me that I was just where they were. I felt my life being relived though many of them. In others I saw pain and wanted to share my Jesus, who was also their Jesus, with them. The teens here at springs of love are no different. The boys and girls make me cackle with laughter. They tell me jokes. They make fun of me on a daily, which actually makes me laugh because it shows how much of   foreigner I am. And yet, I laugh at their English words that make me scratch my head until I actually figure I out what they are saying. They always want to play on my team, help them sing special songs, play uno, help with the terrible math HW I always give them.

Yesterday I was reminded once again how much I'm enjoying myself and am being blessed by each of the kids. We played a bible trivia game for AY. You would have thought the questions were for seminary students. Or maybe it was a reminder that I need to read my bible more. For most of the questions the kids were clueless like me. We all made jokes for the unknown ones. I also have gotten them to say "alabanza" and "bless" along with other words. Moriah would be proud. It was just a great time. Later, I was teaching the girls some camp songs with motions. They are extremely fond of motion songs. After, we played "Fruit Basket Upside Down", a game which invokes lots of running and screaming, which I love to do. We played that into the night as the sun set. After dinner was SNL. The kids really look forward to the games I have planned for them. Sometimes I really struggle to come up with group games, but the internet is helping. Last night I made up a game called Blind and Many Distractions, a game that involves doing things blind and distracted. Who knew? They enjoyed that one even though it took half the time to actually get started. With the chaos and screaming and fun, I became lost in the moment. They say that you go to do work in the mission field in order to bless and reach others. In actuality, the tables are turned the majority of the time. Their happiness make me happy, their laughter makes me laugh, and their love makes me want to love some more. Just like camp, the kids help me learn more lessons than that they could ever know.

I'm having fun here, if you didn't know. I'm learning a lot. Culture is being poured in and out of me. I'm doing lots of unexpected things like teaching adult sabbath school with an hour's notice. I'm learning two languages. I'm driving motorcycles. I'm absorbing in all the sunrises and sunsets and being amazed by the night stars. I'm laughing a lot and praising God with this people on a daily basis. It's alright. More than alright actually.

I asked a friend of mine how long she thinks my honeymoon stage will last. She told me "probably as long as your attitude allows." It was the perfect answer. My connection to God and attitude will be the determining factors in how this time here in India plays out. I'm already dreading the fact that a month has passed by because that means I have to come back in t-minus 9 months. I'm currently not overjoyed with the thought. I'm sure it will change. For now, I'm going to enjoy this camp on steroids and see how long this attitude will last.

Alabanza and Bless.