Lost in Translation

Last week was an interesting week - a little different than the normal schedule, and even when I was in the clinic, it was a madhouse with a lot of people around so it definitely kept us all busy. But it's good that way...I mean, not good that people are sick, but good that if they are, they come to us.

So, one reason things were so crazy around the clinic is because there was a short-term team from the Chicago area in town doing construction work in Wichanzao. They took over the top floor of the clinic, leaving us with less space for all the patients while they were there, but also leaving us with a beautiful new tiled floor on the 2nd floor and some improvements to a few things that we had been needing for awhile (e.g. a water heater in the shower - don Jose will be so happy when we bathe him next and don't have to do it in the bathroom!). Part of the group also worked all week on the manse for Pastor Juan (the preacher at the Wichanzao church) and his family. They've been living in the Sunday school rooms at the church, so it will be nice for them to actually get to move into a house soon. Lenin, the mission architect, and his Peruvian crew are working their magic and will hopefully have it ready for them to move in within a couple of weeks.

My schedule was a little off as well because Monday and Wednesday I helped all day at a wheelchair campaign at a church downtown. An organization called Wheelchairs for the World, who distributes chairs all over the world, brought a team down and, with the work of physical therapists and wheelchair mechanics, matched patients to wheelchairs and made sure the chairs were comfortable and appropriate to meet the person's needs. Some were simple and only needed a chair to get around outside or go long distances; other people had been confined to bed, unable to move on their own, and now their families can wheel them around and give them more mobility. It was really interesting to meet and talk with so many people - immobility, like health in general I suppose, does not discrimminate. There was a paralyzed man from a mountain town whose brother brought him; a young man with cerebral palsy whose next-door neighbor and best friend (he's like my brother) accompanied him on the 6-hour drive from the mountains to get his chair; an elderly lady from Trujillo who couldn't get out of the house and can now maneuver her chair by herself; a 5-year-old girl with cerebral palsy; a middle-aged woman who had polio as a child, but now owns her own little shop and gets around on her wheelchair (including in and out of taxis on a home-made slideboard) just fine; and an industrial engineer who had had a stroke a year and a half ago and now can't move on his own at all. This last one really struck me because his brother brought him, and later his wife came after picking up their kids from school. Both of them were very sweet and supportive of him. He and his wife Ana have four kids and, although this has some trouble speaking now, he's still obviously very intelligent, and even spoke some English he remembered to the physical therapist.

I was translating for this campaign two days and one day in the clinic for a doctor who came with the Chicago group. I decided I like translating. It was pretty exhausting, and I definitely made mistakes and needed help sometimes, but it was need to get to see these different patients, be a part of helping them get what they needed, and, especially in the case of the wheelchair campaign, just being able to talk with and get to know some of these people. Hopefully I'll get a chance to do some more of that soon. Although I don't think I have to worry about that. :)

The other thing last week made me think of was the concept of short-term mission teams. We read a book with the intern group a couple of months ago called When Helping Hurts. It's a very interesting book, and it brought up some potential criticisms for short-term groups that come in, "dump" their help (whether it be money, resources, or a service), and then leave. I'd thought about that before, and I agree there is the risk that short-term teams can take away from the responsibility, initiative, and dignity of a community if they offer what appears to be helpful but in reality is not meeting the underlying needs. Plus there's the issue of commitment and relationship that is often absent if the only contact is built around a single one- or two-week trip. However, I think both of these groups - the team from Chicago and Wheels for the World - demonstrated the right way to do it. They've both been coming continuously, for several years to the same place, and they have established a relationship with the people here. Also, they both worked really hard - definitely had fun, but took their work seriously and effectively accomplished a lot to meet actual needs people had. And finally - one of, I think, the most effective ways to have an impact as a short-term team - they both came down through organizations that are established in Trujillo, that are staffed by locals who know the culture, the situation, and the needs of their community. Instead of working for the people, the groups work with them, resulting in a mutual exchange of blessings, appreciation for one another, and meeting of needs. I think that's the great thing about how God works when we're available for him to use us. Somehow, we all get blessed.

Painting Faces

So, I think I may have mentioned this family with 8 kids who lives near the church and has come into the clinic a couple of times. For some reason this family tugs at my heart. They certainly aren’t well off materially; most of the kids – even 11-year-old Tatiana and sometimes 7-year-old Susana – work selling candy in downtown Trujillo to contribute to the family’s income. But, even though I still don’t know them well, they seem very close, and it’s amazing to watch the kids all pitch in and take care of one other. Part of me wants to do something, to help, but I think for now one of the biggest things I can do is just be there and hopefully get to know them a little more.

And the last few weeks, Tatiana and Susana have shown up during the Sunday school hour with 3-year-old twins Nelson and Janila and baby Kiara in tow. Yesterday, 12-year-old David came as well. They all look just alike – they can’t deny being siblings – and I’ve just been thankful to have the chance to spend some more time with them. They are really respectful and well-behaved, and I’m glad they can come to the church for a time to draw, play, and just be kids. I’ve gotten a chance to just hang out and color with them a couple of times, and actually do a “lesson” (of sorts) with them and the other kids a couple of times. I don’t know what the future holds for Tatiana’s family, my relationship with them, or my work with the kids in Sunday school. But I’m praying that I keep learning, and I’m thankful that God is providing this opportunity for me to get to know His children.

I think he’s answering those prayers in the clinic, too. Last week I went out a few times to touch base with a couple of patients we had not been as consistent in visiting. It’s funny – they notice. Sra. Victoria, the 80-something-year-old, needs pain management for her many aches and pains (probably arthritis and osteoporosis) and really just someone to talk with about being tired of hurting and unable to help her granddaughters (who take care of her) care for the household chores and their children. I saw her Thursday and then took Dr. Julton by Friday after he finished with his patients in the clinic. Hopefully we can see her more consistently to make sure she doesn’t hurt too much and to treat any other ailments that come up.

I also saw Fermin this week. Fermin is probably in his mid-20s, and about a year ago he suffered an accident that left him paralyzed. He’s doing some therapy, but has been very depressed, and his inability to move around has left him with some pretty nasty bed sores that won’t heal. His parents and sisters take him to rehab and try to take care of him at home, but his wounds really need to heal before the rehab, and perhaps eventually improving his mobility, can take off. So, I saw him briefly Tuesday (although he was asleep) with the psychologist who comes in once a week, and the Julton and I went back to see him later in the week. They had been paying for a doctor from the government clinic to come out and treat his wounds, but I think we’re going to take that over. It’s a commitment – needs to be done pretty much every day – but it’s something we can easily do for free, and hopefully it will help ease their expenses as well as provide a presence of emotional and spiritual support. Ideally, the message we want to be sending to the community is, “We’re here. We care. We want to help. And we’re doing it because of Christ’s love.” I hope we can keep transmitting that message, both the patients that come into the clinic and those we go to in their homes.

Saying good-bye

Flor is one of the secretaries at la Casa Amarilla, the headquarters for SALI and the Peru Mission offices. She’s in her late 20s, one of the sweetest, gentlest, most genuine people you will ever meet, and has already become a good friend in these few short months. Her open heart touches others easily, and I hope to continue getting to know her better in my time here.

Anyway, Flor’s been in and out of work some lately because of health issues her mother has been having with her diabetes. However, none of us knew her illness and its complications had progressed to such a serious stage, and we (the interns, at least) were all shocked to receive news that she had passed away Friday morning. We were out of town at the time, and it was really hard knowing our friend was going through this tragedy – one that I can’t, and don’t want to, even begin to imagine – and not be in Trujillo to comfort her. I suppose people never really know what is best to do when a loved one dies, but you still just want to be there for those left behind.

I think Flor and her family have received visits and support from a lot of people associated with the mission, including pastors, clinic staff, the jóvenes from SUSA, and friends in general. Flor actually goes to a different church, and if she is any indication, I’m sure her mother and their family have touched many lives in their own congregation and in each of their many spheres of influence. It’s uplifting to know people like that and even harder when you see them suffering.

We got to go to the funeral service yesterday. My first Peruvian funeral. Not that I would’ve chosen it…and hopefully I won’t have the opportunity to go to any others. But I went with Heidi, Rachel, Karina, and Maresa, and we met Lennin and Elva, a couple at Cristo Rey church, there. Even just getting to give Flor a hug and quick word of cariño made it worth going. It was moving to see the crowd of people proceeding slowly down the street, following Flor, her father, and her six sisters weeping behind the beautiful white coffin held aloft and draped with flowers. Buses carried everyone to the cemetery, where there was a short service before the burial.

I guess we never really know how to react to death, how to comfort or be comforted. Even with the hope of salvation and resurrection, we’re left with memories, tears, and questions. I never even knew Flor’s mom, but she must’ve been special. I suppose it’s fitting to remember her today, on All Saints Day. I hope that the Lord comforts Flor and her family right now and that, in whatever way possible, we can be there for her as she finds which way is up.