Hi everyone,
I was planning on posting about my trip to the refugee camps
since Sabbath morning, but haven’t gotten the chance. Sorry for the delay.
Before I get into that, I’ll give a quick rundown of other
events.
I got back to Moundou on Thursday. The shipping container is now completely
emptied, but some organizing still needs to be done. I was able to do physical therapy on
Thursday. The trip worked out well that
way. Even though it was Monday-Thursday,
I was able to do PT Monday morning and Thursday afternoon so I really only
missed 2 days of PT. I think I’m
starting to somewhat get the hang of the PT here. Praise God!
I know I couldn’t get the hang of anything here on my own. He’s just carrying me through. This week I will be able to do PT every day,
Sunday through Friday, so pray for Bekki, Patricia, and I. I will have a post about PT at the end of
this week (hopefully).
We went up to Bere on Sabbath to see one of the other
Adventist hospitals in Chad (We are 1 of 3).
Bere is much more rural than Moundou, but the hospital is much
bigger. They have more buildings, more
staff (foreign and local), and do just about everything. They are the only hospital in Bere. There is a government hospital in Moundou and
multiple private practices, so there’s no need for us to duplicate services
that are already provided. The drive was
really nice and beautiful, about half paved and half dirt road. We came at a great time of year, because the
southern half of the country is all green.
The road was very wet. One
section is completely submerged in water for over 100 yards probably. I was told that the road has like a 30 degree
slope on the edges, so if you accidently go off the road it is easy to get in
trouble quick. We still drove through
it. I talked to God, saying “you walked
on water, I know you can bring us safely to the other side,” and praise the
Lord, we made it!
Now for the story of the refugee camps…
This was not something that was planned for my trip here,
but God opens doors we don’t expect.
The day after we arrived I met James and Casilda. They both are volunteers for an aid
organization for Chad. From what I
gathered, they are basically one of the many organizations sub-contracted by
the UN to take care of the refugee camps.
They are very passionate about what they do, and it is a blessing to be
able to see them work like they do for those less fortunate. It’s also interesting to actually see in
action all these things we just hear about in America. Interesting in good and bad ways. I say good, because it makes you appreciate
what you have and gives you a cultural experience that most Americans never
get. I say bad, because you see all the
more that could be done. There are a lot
of resources in place for the refugee camps, but unless people like James and
Casilda go there to make it happen they often just stay stagnant and don’t get
to the refugees. James described it like
a machine with all the parts available and even in the right place, but you
have to push every part of it to make it move and do what it’s designed to do.
The opportunity was presented to me to go to the camps on
Friday. We were sitting at the Gardner’s
table when James asked me. I was a bit
surprised, so I wasn’t sure what to think at first. I said that it was up to Bekki. I came here specifically to help her and I
didn’t want to up and leave without her being ok with it. She told me that I should go if I wanted
to. I would have preferred to ask Jolene
privately what her thoughts were, but she was right there when it suddenly came
up so I asked her about it too. She also
told me to go if I wanted to. She’s such
a wonderful wife. Not only would I be
gone for 4 days, but 1 of those days would be our 1 year anniversary. We still saw each other the morning of our
anniversary and exchanged gifts/cards.
James and I agreed that he would call again on Sunday to check, but that
we could tentatively plan on me going.
Monday we left, about 9:00 AM Chadian time. And by 9:00 AM Chadian time, I mean 12:30 PM. As I said, it was a blessing in disguise
because I was able to organize Bekki’s PT stuff and also do PT that
morning. I went down with James and
Casilda, along with Madeline and Tourral from the local Handicap Center. The Handicap Center is a wonderful resource
for the Chadians here. It is a Catholic
organization. It is a blessing to be
able to be here and see all the skilled workers God had planted in these places
of need. Madeline is a physical
therapist and Tourral is a PTA/mechanic of sorts. He makes the tricycles (see picture below),
crutches, braces, etc.
We visited 3 camps: Gonje, Dosseye, and Amboko. There are about 44,000 refugees in all 3
camps. Dosseye is the biggest, with
about 20,000. Most of the refugees are
from the Central African Republic and came in 2003 or 2007. It really opened my
eyes to what these camps are. I guess I
always thought of refugee camps as things that are set up for short emergencies
and then dissolved. There’s no sign that
the refugees will leave the camps any time.
When they first arrive they are housed in these large plastic type
tents. Most of them will eventually
build their own houses. Except for the
security when you enter the camps look pretty much like any other Chadian
village. Amboko was the only camp where
I actually saw any UN housing. Dosseye
has a market right in the middle and people’s houses around it.
The first day we drove straight to Gonje and hit the ground
running. The second day was Dosseye, and
the third day we visited Amboko. James
and Casilda did all the initial consults before the trip to determine who would
be seen. They started with children and
worked up, so most of the people we saw were at least under 30. Madeline and Tourral really did the Lion’s
share of the medical work. I feel like I
wasn’t doing much of anything a lot of the time, but James and Casilda still
seemed to genuinely appreciate me being there.
Madeline and Tourral are quite amazing, doing about 10 evaluations per
hour. A lot of the refugees just needed
simple equipment. They did a lot of leg
length measurements for adaptive shoes and crutches. Some of the refugees will be able to have an
arm tricycle made for them. It was
determined that others needed to be seen by the camps’ physician. 1 physician for 44,000 people (but according
to Dr. Gardner that’s better than the ratio for Chad as whole). A few others were referred to somewhere else,
like the Adventist Center in Moundou or government hospital. A lot of these cases really should have been
taken care of a long time ago, especially since they often developed and lived
with their conditions completely in the refugee camps while under the
jurisdiction of the UN. James asked me
to write a letter talking about the trip, the success, the condition of the
refugees, and the need of follow-up care.
Just being foreign gives you more credentials in the camps. James actually asked me to put my scrubs
right away when we arrived at the third camp.
If there’s a white guy in scrubs people assume he’s important and things
will get done quicker.
Here are a few stories from the camps. We actually saw one woman with leprosy (no
longer active), but the ends of all her fingers were gone. Her right leg ended mid-tibia and her left
leg mid-femur. She had sores on her right
leg from dragging herself along the ground.
She will have her right leg amputated mid-femur, and she will either get
a new tricycle or get an old one fixed (I’m not sure). We saw 2 children with tuberculosis that was
really progressed. Their rib cages and
spines were protruding. Unfortunately
there’s not much that can be done in Chad at this point. This is one of the particularly upsetting
cases, because if they had been getting the proper check-ups it could have been
treated earlier. One child had the early
signs of tuberculosis and will be going to the camp physician to begin
treatment. Praise the Lord! There are a surprising number of refugees
with severe knee flexion contractures.
They’ve been like that for years and there’s really nothing that can be
done to change it now. So, they either
get around on their tricycles or crawl on their hands and knees. This problem isn’t only in the refugee
camps. I’ve seen a couple Chadians
getting around like this outside the camp, and seemed to be traveling quite a
long distance like that (longer than most Americans are comfortable walking
with 2 good legs). We were shocked from
one child that looked like he was maybe 3-4 years old, but was actually 7 (this
was confirmed by his teeth). Also, his
name was Papa Noel J.
I evaluated 2 children with hydrocephalus. Finally, a diagnosis I am actually familiar with. The first child was quite delayed. From his mother’s report the hydrocephalus
has been continuing to progress. I wrote
a quick note for their resettlement.
Resettlement is where they can get moved to another country like the US
or Canada. Each country has a yearly
quota for how many refugees and immigrants they take from different countries. A child with health problems like this that
can’t be treated in Chad, are candidates to resettle so that they can get
appropriate medical treatment. Unfortunately,
we found out after that they already had a resettlement case and the mother
didn’t want to leave. It’s odd for us to
think of her choosing not to when it means her child will probably die. But, I had to keep in mind that these people
have already been forced out of their first home and it’s reasonable that they
have a strong desire to not have anything remotely similar to that happen
again. There’s also a different mindset
with death here. It’s just such a
common-place thing. If you ask someone
how many kids they have a normal response would be something like, “6 living.”
I’m not sure what will happen to the second child with
hydrocephalus. I did the evaluation and
now it is in James’ hands. I told him
that I could do resettlement paperwork if needed. This child’s hydrocephalus is not has severe,
but he has other complications too. He
was not as delayed in regards to their motor skills. I’m not sure how he is cognitively, but he’s
2 and he can say a few words. Also, he
was cognitively aware enough to notice that we were white and to cry in
response. We went into the village area
to see him and we were probably the first white people he’s ever seen. The trouble with him was that on top of his
hydrocephalus, he gets sick almost every couple of weeks, and has some type of
surgery on his abdomen that hasn’t quite held.
It seems like probably an umbilical hernia. If you’re reading this please pray for this
child.
Before I close I must mention how wonderful the cultural
experience was. I actually went out at
night, walked along the water, and watched the sunset. I was able to walk right into the refugee
village and their market. I was called ‘nasara.’ It is kind of a deragoratory term, but kids
tend to use it innocently and just mean ‘white person’. I believe it means something like ‘protector’
or ‘powerful,’ and comes from European imperialism. At night we would walk around town and eat at
the street vendors. I even watched a
couple locals slingshot and kill some type of reptile from the water (looked
like a really small alligator). In the
camps I actually got to play soccer with some young boys. They were much better than me.
This trip was not expected, but it was a huge blessing. I hope that even if just for a few refugees I
was able to provide a little help. It
gave me a much more real understanding of how many people live. More than I could even get living in the
compound in Moundou for a few weeks. Despite
that, I was really happy to return to the Moundou clinic. It feels more like a Chadian home because of
the people here that I actually know and care about.
Please everyone keep the refugees in your prayers.
Boys at Dosseye playing on someone's arm tricycle
Madeline and Tourral with a boy at Gonje
Young boy with hydrocephalus sleeping on his mother after the evaluation
Sunset in Gore
