Archive for November, 2007
Last days at Amani
I spent the last few days in Kampala and the six-hour drive back to Kabale thinking and pondering about a lot of things. I thought I’d have plenty to write about but I can’t seem to articulate the proper words for this post. My head seems blocked with too many thoughts and emotions. Words seem so inadequate right now. To be honest, I don’t know who I am anymore. I know God is working in me, continually changing me, so much so I ask myself, “Who am I?” on a regular basis. I’ve never felt so certain about my future in God, but every morning this week I’ve woken up and can’t understand or comprehend the change that is going on in my heart and my mind.
My first few days away from the babies home felt like I’d taken a sedative. My mind was numb as it worked overtime to digest the last three weeks. It was a great couple of days catching up with Dave, Kathryn and Aurelia in Kampala, but I wasn’t able to relax for some reason. The faces of all the babies are there every time I close my eyes; their smiles, their frowns, and their tears. I hear their laughs and cries in my mind all the time. I can’t seem to focus of the simplest things anymore.
I always wanted to know what it felt like to completely lose myself somewhere in the world doing God’s work quietly, away from familiarity and comfort. To fly solo into the unknown, to let go of reason and identity, to find a place where I could be alone with God, labouring in his field. I can honestly say it’s the single most amazing experience anyone could experience. To feel and experience that sense of stepping into an unknown by myself while holding God’s hand was exciting!
The lead up to the 26th was tough. I had much to do in such a small window of time. I wasn’t ready to leave. I didn’t want to leave. I guess I had a taste of my future and wanted to unravel it a little more. The feeling that comes with understanding one’s purpose in God it too much for the human mind to understand. I know I’m getting closer because my heart races every time I think about it.
I didn’t think 3 weeks would make me attached the way it did, but it did and I wasn’t ready for it. I’ll sorely miss the local staff; Mamma Lucy, Mamma Maggie, Mamma Susan, Mamma Loyce, the babies; Ryan, Caleb, Debra, Daniel, Elizabeth, Matthew, Isaiah, and the Prison Break gang; Beth, Daniel, Daniella, Christina, Shana, and Julia. Since God confirmed a lot of things in the first week of being at Amani I had almost two weeks to just enjoy my time with the babies and to share this love with the staff and volunteers who have the same heart.
Like Akanyijuka, Amani was all about getting my feet wet, learning and understanding how this all works. One day I know I’ll dive into the plan God has set before me. I’m pretty adamant that there is nothing else worth doing in this life than rescuing babies and saving lives, there’s just nothing.
Thankfully, my last week was fairly occupied with additional functions and commitments. At least these provided a momentary lapse in thoughts about the babies, to keep my thoughts and emotions on a leash for a while. The biggest thing surrounding the week was the American Thanksgiving. The staff and volunteers of Amani combined with another orphanage in Jinja to celebrated this traditional dinner. There must have been around 40-odd people in attendance, and with dinner being a pot-luck, food was certainly in abundance. It was also the first time I tried pumpkin pie, which seems to be a big deal in North America. I like it. It was such a good night of fellowship. Thanksgiving dinner was the start of what seemed to be a ‘grazefest’. From that day onward I seriously had food in my mouth all the time. So much time was needed to say good-bye that I found myself at a restaurant at least twice, sometimes three times a day.
The most cherished memory I have of Amani was on the day I left. I walked into the preemie ward in the morning to hold the babies for one last time and to my surprise there was little Debra. She had been transferred out of the clinic and back in with the other babies. It was a sight I’ll never forget. Feelings of joy mixed with tears. She seems to be on the gradual improve, which is such a weight removed.
I don’t know if this post has properly given insight into how I feel, I don’t think it has. All I know is that God knows my future, my heart is for him, and a brand new chapter in my life is about to start.
Amani and me
For the past few months I’ve had a strong feeling in heart about a few things pertaining to orphaned babies, I know the short time I have spent at Amani has already been a very firm conformation for me. I’ve had much relief, excitement, and peace in my heart this week.
It’s extremely hard to summon the words for this post purely because of the emotions this week has held for me so I think it will be best if I just keep it simple and spell a usual day at Amani.
My day starts at 07:30 when I walk through the front gate of the babies cottage. Joseph, the groundsman, is usually trimming the hedges, so a quick g’day and handshake is usually exchanged before I hit the volunteer office. As soon as I get to the office I flick open my notebook and have a quick check of emails and read the news. I usually have Maria and Vincent, the older children of Amani, hitting the keys as I try to type. I keep them amused with my bank key chain that generates a new password every minute. After the number changes they tell me what the new one is. Amani has wireless set-up on the compound, a slice of the west here in Africa - sure beats the dial-up system we have at home in Kabale. Unfortunately, my joy in experiencing this luxury is short lived. Not before long I can begin to hear the cries coming from the premature babies room and I know I have to close my emails and head off to begin another day.
The babies that arrive in the preemie ward have been abandoned at hospitals and are then transferred to Amani. It breaks my heart to know these newborns were completely abandoned at birth. The eldest is only 5 months old. One is HIV positive and another is suspected to be suffering from cerebral palsy. As soon as I hit the preemie room my eyes begin to burn from the lack of sleep the night before. ten minutes into starting my five-hour shift I’m ready to go to bed.
Who gets out of bed first is usually decided by who is making the most noise. All babies are changed as soon as they are taken out of bed. When all the babies are awake and changed I help Mamma Lucy feed them their bottles. More crying mixed in with vomit is the norm at this time. Some babies are great with the bottle; Caleb (AKA the eating machine) has his bottle polished off in record time. I tentatively burp him knowing he’s a little bomb waiting to go off. Caleb loves food so much that he has a go at my shirt every time I change him. Others are not so great at feeding time. Deborah, the little girl suspected to have cerebral palsy, struggles at feed time. There was concern about her hydration so she was taken to the clinic and put on IV fluids to help boost her blood volume and electrolytes. I spent some time at the clinic with Mamma Lucy and Mamma Betty this week and it wasn’t hard to see the love they have for these children. The Mamma’s are such beautiful women who treat these babies as they would their own.
From about 09:00 through til 12:30 is just nursing, changing and keeping a general eye on the babies. There is a big wooden rocking chair on the front veranda that overlooks Lake Victoria. More often than not I find myself there with one of the babies wrapped up. A chance to close my eyes for a moment.
At lunch all the babies are spoon fed banana and avocado mash. It can be a rather messy time. After lunch is over all the babies are put to bed and a moment of rest can be had by all the staff. Mamma Sara also prepares lunch for the staff. I get on really well with her because she speaks the dialect from the Mbarara/Kabale region.
For me, I need a break from the Ugandan staple and usually go for a wander into town during lunch with milk, avocado and vomit stained clothes. I don’t smell that fresh either. I love the vibe Jinja town has. For you back home, Jinja has been bottled in the 1950’s and hasn’t been opened since. The architecture of the buildings has very colonial feel and the general ambience is very slow and easy. No one is in a rush. The smell of freshly cut grass is in the air and the sounds of children playing the fields can always be heard. There is such a childhood innocence about the place. I love it. The buildings look rather drab but when the afternoon sun hits them they burst into a myriad of glowing pastel hues. I think I will retire here one day.
When I return to the babies cottage it’s about the time the children are awake from their afternoon sleep and are ready to be taken out of their cribs, changed and fed milk. Once all this is done they are taken outside to the veranda where they play, whinge, and make a mess. The afternoons generally go quick and not before long the night shift ladies are on site ready to take over.
I usually go out for a walk most afternoons to clear my head before having dinner. I’m sharing the men’s quarters with a Canadian man while three doors down is the girls house. There are about a half a dozen or so female volunteers currently working at Amani, mainly from Canada and the US. The two of us will usually have dinner around their place if we don’t decide to eat out together. Jinja has some really good Indian and Italian restaurants in town, which is great!
It’s been an emotional and physically exhausting week, yet an extremely pivotal point in my life. I anticipate great things in the future.
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