Croatia and cleaning

Got home late last night and I just dropped my husband at the airport for his trip to Croatia. I'm waiting to hear if the airlines will take their overweight baggage, which is a sound system. I'm a bit concerned as the flight leaves soon and he still has not called.

I just cleaned out my coffee pot. I had left grounds in it three weeks ago, so you can imagine! ugh. But, I brought back plenty of green coffee beans, so I will be roasting them up and enjoying really good coffee very soon. Then, on to straightening up the rest of the house and answering client emails.

My other plan is to add photos to the blog entries. Internet was too slow to email them from Ethiopia.

My Last Night

It is night in Addis. I am alone in the guest house, which is a change after spending this week with two other families, one from South Carolina. We figured out we had been together before - one mother, who just had a baby this week - was a fitness instructor in the Firm videos, and I had rented lights to them for one of the shows she did. Small world. She was on a billboard in Five Points for a long time, which may be why I kept thinking she looked familiar to me.

So, tomorrow I fly out. I really miss my family, so it is good to be going home, but I don't relish the many hours in the air.

Much of what I did this trip I could not blog about because it was personal to the families involved. But, I think from it have gained a deeper understanding of the amazing culture here, which has been very good for me.

Today I visited a government orphanage, and interviewed a young girl who cared for her little sister and managed against great odds to feed her and get medical help for her until she was adopted. This girl has been given the materials to start a small business and I know she will succeed. Her story was quite motivating to me. I also ate mocha ice cream at Kaldi's coffee shop with a friend and her two beautiful girls.

When I get home, after much sleep, I hope to put photos to the words I've written here. Thank you all for taking this journey with me and for your prayers.

More Tears Today

Today I spoke with two HIV positive women who chose
to give up their girls for adoption before they die.
I asked them what they were feeling. I asked one of
them what she would like to tell her daughter on her
wedding day. She told me about her own wedding day,
at age 14, and how her parents told her she must go
and sleep with her husband. She wanted to run away
and not do it because she was so scared. She said she
didn’t want her daughter to go through that.

The daughters have already changed roles with their
mothers, and they talked about how they were worried
about who would take care of their mothers when they
go to the States. Yet, I could see they were excited
about the possibility of a new family and a good
education. One of the mothers had prepared her child
well for the transition. Hers was the interview where
I could no longer see my viewfinder after the first
few questions.

After all I have seen here, no one could ever convince
me that a poor or sick mother in a mud house cares any
less for her child than I care for mine. I really
miss my kids. I want to hold them and I long to look
at them while they sleep. My kids were born of other
women in another countries, yet I get to look at them,
I touch them, and they bring their joys and sorrows to
me. I am beyond blessed.

Dr. Ruth Droppers

I usually shower in the morning, but Ruth showers at night. After spending an hour with her at the hospital, I can see why. Personally, I struggle with just stepping into the hospital here because it feels like I’m diving face first into a rising wave of
germs. Yet, Soddo Christian Hospital is very clean compared to other local hospitals. The outside is beautiful, there are covered walks connecting the wards and flowers bloom everywhere. It seems that the clean air and the flowers promote rest and healing for the tired, sick and dirty patients. Twice a day the floors are scrubbed, yet, the people coming in are often filthy from travel on the dirt roads, hours or days of travel by foot or carried litter or donkey cart, continually drenched in the dusty wake of passing trucks. To me it seems everything has a film of dust and sickness that makes me want to bolt.

Additionally, it is difficult for me to handle the onslaught of emotions that pound me when I see the people suffering. Sitting in the ER at home, more often the length of the wait grabs my emotions harder than people’s pains.

But here, though I am focused, I can't keep up with Ruth – she mentions doing an ultrasound and it is finished by the time I change the setting on my camera and reach the room. Her work is like triage after a disaster, every day. The waits are quick, but the cases are extreme. On call at night, a toddler in his father’s arms arrived with a knife wound to the eye. It was his good eye, the other blind from birth. When asked at 8pm when the accident occurred, we heard it happened that morning. At first, I feel angry – why was he not brought in earlier? Then, it occurs to me they likely have been on their way here since the accident occurred.

Another man refuses to give Ruth a direct answer to the simple question, “do you ever eat fruit?” She gives up after three tries and tells me he probably has chewed a lot of chat, and is experiencing the depression that follows the high. Today she’s
frustrated with people who won’t answer her questions. But, she does not show it. Each patient feels special in her presence. She has a way of repeating what they say to her that makes them know she is listening, even if she has a different idea of what to do. “So, the other doctor would not give you an x-ray for your stomach pain? I see. And, you feel you need an x-ray? Perhaps we could do a ultrasound instead, would that be okay with you?” She smiles at the patient, and nods, encouraging them to buy into her plan. She is incredibly gifted with non-verbal communication, which I think serves her well in this culture.

The woman we met in the clinic, whose breast was destroyed by TB shows up the next morning. I found her outside the hospital, wandering lost and ignored, and sent her to Ruth. She is one of four wives, and her husband no longer cares for her. She also has five sons and no daughters, and the sons do not care for her either. No one will pay for her to have help at
the hospital. Ruth thinks they must want her to die. It is decided that she can be cared for from the benevolent fund.

Since meeting her, the supreme sadness of her life sits on my shoulder. I see her when I look to my left. Her eyes, her face, her hand pulling back her shawl to show me the horrible wound. Me, the photographer, the one with absolutely zero ability to
help her aside from a hug and my warmest smile, I was given the pleading look, beseeching me to do what her family refused to do. To help.

I ask Ruth if she ever cries. She tells me two stories, one of a breach birth to a woman so brutally circumcised that the child could not be born. The woman’s mother was with her. Likely, it was she who cut her daughter and removed every part of her that said she was a woman. Ruth said the woman’s mother gazed blankly ahead, “I am not going to think about my responsibility in this tragedy.” Ruth said she cried over this because the baby did not die because of some environmental cause, but because of something done to his mother by another woman. The second time she cried because a mother starved her baby. She had too many children to feed. So, she kept food from the youngest, and when he was almost gone, brought him to the hospital. All the nurses cared deeply for the baby, and tried desperately to save him. Then, Ruth saw the moment the mother realized she could have brought him earlier and he would have lived. She saw the realization cross the mother’s face that she alone made a devastatingly wrong decision.

Later in the day, a little girl I kissed in the children’s ward succumbs to malnutrition and dies. I had seen her dad standing next to her bed each day when I went to take “my” boy for a walk. The vitamin enriched Unicef milk, purchased on the black market, did not arrive in time to save her.

Some things you can buy if you know who can get them, but morphine is next to impossible to get. Chemo, radiation, strong painkillers, common blood thinners for anesthesia are just a few of the things not found here. Some doctors have a small stash of pain killers. Ruth is not one to hoard, so today she gives a patient who is dying some relief. We talk about a friend who had his leg amputated above the knee. One of the other doctors kept the leg in his freezer to use as a teaching tool. “Honey, where is the ice cream?” “Check under the ankle!” Amputation seems to be the common cure for cancers, tumors, hyena attacks, snakebites and more.

A few days ago a container arrived from Switzerland. It was sent over after my last visit a year and a half ago and has been in customs until last week. It was filled with crutches, which will be put to good use. I saw a man on the street using a tall stick and swinging himself around it to move, so I asked my translator to send him to the hospital for a crutch. It is nice to think about how a crutch might change his life. I can handle thinking about a crutch today, but I can never do what Ruth does.

If you wish to help Ruth and her work, you can send her a donation (a check from an American bank is fine, there is just no tax deduction here:
Stichting Witte Velden te Hilversum
Postbanknumber 1485137
Netherlands
IBAN: NL 41 PSTB 0001 4851 37
BIC: PSTBNL21
mention her name: for Ruth Droppers

Email of the foundation is: stgwittevelden75@chello.nl
Email of contact person in Netherlands: estherdroppers@hotmail.com

Back in Addis

I tried the internet café down the street. Located in a short shipping container, it had two old computers and a baud width of 31.2 kbps. Enough to really test my patience, which, though it has increased dramatically since leaving the States, was not enough to handle the two-minute waits between button pushes. I finally got my own computer screen to turn on, so I am going to see how long it takes before my mouse freezes up. Hopefully a long time.

I had the weirdest reverse culture shock driving into Addis. After only 10 days down South, I was blown away by the money here, and even more by the availability of food. The fruit stands filled with normal size, plump tomatoes, potatoes and even beans.

At a coffee shop chain started by a young woman and patterned after Starbucks, called Kaldi’s, I saw numerous Chinese people, kids sporting ipods, and well dressed business typing away people on laptops. I also had one of the best cappuccinos of my life. The foam was covered exactly in half with a thick coat of powdered cocoa. I was glad to hear that the coffee shop chain was not owned by the Saudi sheik that seems to own everything else here, the Sheraton, the malls, Home Depot and pretty much anything else that is new and big. He is also building a glass-fronted hotel in Soddo, and I imagine may be helping to build the big mosque there as well. It is he that is mentioned in the articles about Starbucks not paying the coffee pickers a living wage. He owns the farms.



I’ve been thinking a lot about living wages. David and I have this discussion often. On one hand, if you are making $1 a day and before you were making nothing, then your life is improved. But, how can one live on a dollar a day, and how did the person now making $1 live before that income? When doing research on the parents of adopted children of my friends, I found that a number of the birth moms made between 30 and 50 birr a month ($2.50 to $4.50 a month) making injera for a living. Injera is the local bread, made entirely of fermented teff flour and water, usually cooked on a clay plate over a hot fire made in a small hole in the ground. It is similar in look to a large pancake, but grey, with more air pockets. Teff looks like long grass and has tiny black seeds, which may be ground into flour. It grows in the higher regions.

So, here are women with at least two children making $3 a month. I asked five different people what it cost to feed a family of four. The answers I got ranged from 10 birr ($1.10) to 25 birr ($3.00) a day, if the family does not eat meat or much fruit. I spent that range on each meal I purchased just for myself. For a meal of injera and goat meat pieces, it cost 20 birr in the hospital cafeteria. The cheapest thing on the menu was 8 birr. The really cheap food is false banana, and if you see them growing, you are almost guaranteed to find a round house next to them. Inset, or false banana, is made from the stalks of trees that look like banana trees, but bear no fruit. Tastes pretty much like stalk, with basically no nutritional value.

Most poor people drink ½ a cup of water per day, which Dr. Ruth says accounts for many of their health problems. I learned that here, when you are dehydrated, you no longer feel thirst. It happened to me a few times, crept up on me, when out walking for a few hours, I felt weaker and weaker until I got home and forced myself to drink. Only after about two glasses did I again feel thirst.

My daughter’s birth mom lives in a government rent controlled mud hut. It is one room, with a door and a wooden cover for the single window. The room is as wide as the length of her bed, but not big enough to fit my king size bed. It is 25 birr a month to rent. She has a 25 watt light bulb on a wire. No running water, no bathroom, mud floor and walls.

Surgery

Today I decided to video tape some surgery. It was one that is familiar to our family, a rod into a femur. The surgeons used different equipment than what is available in the States, and putting in the rod looked quite challenging and appeared to take both strength and finesse on the part of the surgeons. Fascinated by the process, I barely noticed that the patient had her face fully uncovered - no mask - until she looked over at me and smiled.

compare this to my surgery:
here

Blessed Nation?

In Psalms 37:25, it is recorded that David, the King of Israel said, I was young, and now I'm old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken, or their children begging bread.

I've always considered this scripture a promise rather than a statement of someones observation. The other night Stephanie told me about a father who brought four of his kids to the orphanage. All were very hard of hearing or completely deaf. The oldest were in their late teens, so adoption really was not plausible. The family was obviously close to one another and to the Lord. But, the father was worried about his kids, who were ostrasized and abused in their village. He wanted more for them. They had managed as a family to send two of the children to a deaf school, and these two kids had taught the others sign language.

I thought about it long after she told me the story and this scripture came to mind. The next day, we went to visit Dr. Mary. I mentioned the scripture to her and she said fiercely, that verse should not be in the Bible. That, or it is just David's observation. It is simply not true.

Then she described the story of a poor, Christian mother. There are thousands here like her. She lives in a dirt hut where the roof leaks. The floor becomes mud in the rainy season, and she has no furniture. So, she spends the nights holding her children up, out of the water. In the morning, she is soaked to the core, muddy and very cold. But, she has no change of clothing, so to wash herself, she must go the fridgid river waters and wash her clothing while she wears it. Then, she must go, wet, and search for work to order to buy flour. Then she must find wood and light it in the rain to bake bread her food for her family. She is not dry or warm for months.

I have grown up hearing that the United States is blessed because in our early roots, we are a Christian nation. Ethiopia's roots are the same, only older. From Jewish to Christian, this is a country founded on faith in God. So, why is she not blessed the way we are blessed? I question now, is blessing equal to financial success? Are we somehow better than the people here so God chooses to give to us?


Often when I walk here, I think it must be so much like walking in the context of Biblical times. The culture is emotional, and respect for proper heirarchy considered very important. I can imagine two women fighting over a child, and one woman agreeing the child should be split. I can see why goats and sheep need to be separated, because they look alike. I can picture shaking the dust of a town from your feet, or washing someone's feet out of love for them.

"Cry out to Me and I will answer" says God in another scripture.

My young translator told me a story from his youth. "I was on my own from the time I was six years old because my parents did not have enough food. I had some torn clothes, and I was embarrassed because they did not cover me. One day I was so cold becuase of the rain, I said, God, please help me find some clothes. I had the feeling to walk straight down this road. A man came out of his house and said to me, "you look cold. Please, go down to the building on this street, they are giving clothes." God provided for me clothes that day."

Wolaita, Ethiopia: 10/25/07

Ruth and I are sitting in her kitchen enjoying the music Shelley sent to us. There is so much to share about today that I don’t think it is possible to get it all said. We stayed up late, late last night talking about everything, then got up early to drive 1.5 hours with Dr. Mary to a Wolaittan village called Gadalla, where she practices medicine every other Thursday. It is like a county seat, but for a smaller area.

On the drive in, we saw a donkey cart carrying a pallet with a sick woman on it. Children chased us yelling “Mary, Mary.” When we arrived, we found the sick lined up outside the clinic. The first ones on homemade stretchers and the others sitting or standing in line. We handed out cards to those in line, which guaranteed they would be seen. Those who were late must return in two weeks. People traveled for hours and even days to get to the clinic.

The government buildings are constructed primarily of mud mixed with dried grass and are quite dark inside. I had to use my flash, which gives the photos a look that is not really accurate.

We set up in an empty room that is the clinic. Someone brought in a bench, two chairs and a small table, which later in the day became the pharmacy. We left all but one window closed to protect the medicines and food we brought, and make a place to get away from the people for a break once during the day.

Patients were seen outside by Dr. Ruth, who made notes on scraps of paper until the paper ran out, then used her hand. They really need packs of post-its or small pads of paper to write prescriptions on. Helping her was Sebastian, a German medical student and two boy translators, who are in a school Mary runs where they learn English. Also helping was a man that I suspect Dr. Mary hired because he is older and has trouble finding work. He carried the scale, and acted as sort of a guard; sometimes chasing people back with a switch he made from a corn stalk.

I took photos while holding the baby, but I will get to that later.

Cases that needed a second opinion were sent over to Dr. Mary and her young translator in the clinic. Dr. Mary speaks Wolaittan, and it appeared the boy would clarify, or translate into Amharic when needed. Dr. Mary saw these patients, organized medicines and handed out food to those in her food program.

Next to this place was another small building that serves as a school. The children bring small stools or sit on the dirt. There is a chalkboard with the English alphabet on it. Wolaitan language uses the same letters we do, but the vowels are pronounced like they are in Spanish. When we arrived, sixty or so children were crammed into the room, doing lessons by chanting. I think the noise made it difficult for Mary, so it was good when they finished. Dr. Ruth also had challenges hearing the people outside because there were so many people gathering and talking around her. She often had to ask people to be quiet. Each time, some people would take it upon themselves to police the others. Men would smack the women, talking or not, who would in turn slap the kids. Five minutes later it would be noisy again. Relentless flies buzzing, kids playing on the donkey carts, cattle munching the banana leaves behind the clinic and donkeys yelling at each created a distinctly soundscape unlike any I’ve heard in South Carolina.


I’m trying to think of words to describe the problems we saw, but the words like “heart-wrenching” have been so overused, they don’t touch what we all felt. Here are some snippets of the conversations.

Ruth, “how often does he get to eat meat?”
“once, maybe twice a year.”
“any papayas or mangos, or vegetables?”
“no, just corn or bread or fake banana”
“well, with his condition, he needs some vitamins or he will go blind. Is it possible for him to buy some fruits and eat them on a regular basis?”

Ruth, “how long has she looked like this?”
This was about a woman who looked like she was nine months pregnant with twins.
“Ten months. She had a baby, but no blood came, then she swelled up like this.”
“The baby was born and looked normal?”
“yes.”
“did the baby live?”
“no”
“I will get a can, will you see if you can get her to urinate in it?”
Six people carry her stretcher behind the clinic and come back with the can.

There is no privacy. People gather all around the person being examined and watch everything. Maybe this is good as they may learn some methods of healing and prevention. One woman pulled her shirt aside to show me her breast. Most of it was gone and the remainder looked as if it had been horribly burned and blistered. At first glance Mary said cancer, then they made more observations and diagnosed her with localized TB in the breast.

Diagnoses in the field must be made without lab work, by observation and conferring with each other and medical books. Sometimes the people need to go to the hospital. If the case is dire, and Ruth refers them, they can be seen using the benevolent fund.

Ruth, “she needs surgery for this hernia, do you have bus money to get her to Soddo Christian Hospital?”
“no.”
“okay, well, she can wear a scarf tied tightly around it, then, when the pain gets very bad, which may take some time, you must try and find a way for her to come have surgery.”

To a girl, who for over one year had one eye horribly swollen and protruding from her face, “I will give you this card, and you go to the hospital with it, and they will see you.”

One boy we took home with us. He is ten, and had trouble breathing. He was bone thin and the skin sucked in and out of his lower ribs when he wheezed.
Ruth, “how long has he been breathing like this?”
“two years now”
“and what color is his spit?”
“it comes out with pus and is yellow.”
One look at his father’s ragged clothing and lack of shoes and I can see why they put off the trek to the doctor. I wonder what it cost them to not work for a day? I saw not one of the patients or family members eat or drink all day. They decided it was TB, confirmed on an x-ray even I could read when we got home to the hospital. Sweet boy was scared. I think he had never seen a “city” before. He liked my camera, though. We bought him a soda and gave him shoes and a shirt and will check on him again tomorrow. He is on oxygen and has an IV. I can’t imagine what he is feeling.

Dr. Ruth and Dr. Mary are amazing people. Dr. Ruth is in her element in this situation. Each person she meets must feel they are the most valuable person on earth when she talks with them in her sweet voice. Though outwardly calm, I can see her mental gears running hyper speed while she diagnoses, then tries to figure out what her patients have the means to do that will help. I saw her do this in the Dominican Republic, dispensing orders like these for diabetes, “if you can, you must try to drink three glasses of pure water each day,” and, “if I give you shoes, will you keep them on always and protect your toes?”

Mary’s love for the people is more evident in the many things she thinks to do to help them. She spends so much of her own money, I don’t know how she manages. One of the many things she does is make up vitamin packs. Each day’s dose is wrapped in a triangle of newsprint. The pack contains a malaria preventative, folic acid and vitamin b. She started just with the women, and found that men also really thrived on the folic acid/b combination.

She also had large milk cans filled with homemade Bisquick that she distributes to families that are malnourished. It can be mixed with water and baked traditionally to make nutritious bread and contains protein powder, and milk solids along with other vitamin enriched flours.

Today was the first time Sebastian had seen rural medicine in an area of extreme poverty. I felt for him. He is young, and I’m sure what he saw today will stay with him for a lifetime. He was very tired when we got home – I think emotionally. He did a wonderful job, too. In Germany, he was able to attend med school for around $800 a semester because it is governmentally subsidized (and, interestingly, there are no entrance exams), and he will have a job after taking this time off to do this work. His girlfriend is in Ghana working in an orphanage while he is here. She contracted a bad strain of malaria her first week and used up all her malaria meds treating it, so he is worried about her.

After they finished seeing all the patients, the people lined up to get their medicines at the makeshift pharmacy. Dr. Mary charges them a very small fee, which I think is a good idea because it maintains the value of her service.

My friend in Ethiopia's newsletter

This is the doctor I'm going to stay with in Ethiopia. We met there in January of 06, and since then she visited me once here - we drove to Washington and NYC for a three day whirlwind tour, and we met in the Dominican Republic for a week, too. She is an amazing woman. I don't have all the photos, unfortunately.



Ruth's Report

Newsletter 2 June 2007

Early in the morning of the 19th of May, I arrived at Bole Airport, Addis Abeba. After a stay with friends, Co and Marja Tollenaar, who are also serving through Witte Velden Foundation, I traveled to Soddo on the 30th of May. Thanks to Co and Marja, my time in Addis was very productive. I managed to arrange the necessary practicalities as registration at the Dutch Embassy, an Ethiopian driving license, an internet connection and shopping.

Soddo is situated in the Great Rift Valley, a 6.5 hours drive south of Addis Abeba. Soddo is said to have 70.000 inhabitants. I live on the hospital compound at the edge of town. From the veranda there is a view to distant lake Abaya.

I have by now got used to power cuts and water shortage, Kebede (a boy who works in the compound and does the shopping), the guards who greet me and switch on the lights at night, the sound of crickets, the market place with mud, cows and goats and little children calling "ferenchiâ". That means white one. My neighbours and I are the only whites around.

With medical students from washington and neigbour.

Arrival in Ethiopia
Soddo Christian Hospital

Caused by the increasing inflation the number of poor people is on the rise. The local wheat is called tef, which is used to prepare the local staple injera. A kilo of tef now costs 5 Birr (50 eurocents). An average family needs 40 kilos of tef a month. That is 200 Birr per month for food only. The average income is 320 Birr.

Soddo Christian Hospital
I'e been working in the hospital for a couple of weeks now. The hospital has an operation section with four Ethiopian assistant-doctors, two Ethiopian surgeons and an American medical director. Then there is the clinic, first aid, children and internal section which is run by three Ethiopian doctors. I'm the fourth doctor and also work in the clinic, first aid, children and internal section. An Ethiopian doctor and me are heading this part of the hospital.

There is a room available for me to see patients. Fortunately a translator was found to assist me, because sometimes patients speak a language that none here can understand. Apart from Amharic (the national language) there are ten other languages.

Many diseases are poverty and hygiene related. There is malaria, tuberculosis, vitamine deficiencies, malnutrition, intestine and eye infections and HIV.

On of the things I am going to pay attention to is the children's section.

We have nine beds, which are however rarely occupied.

Sometimes small babies are discharged too early. This week professor Glenn Geelhoed and 15 medical students from Washington University visited, and he advised me on this issue.

Malaria in Gadalla.

One day a week I go to see patients together with Mary, a doctor specialized in tropical diseases. She has been working in Soddo for 11 years. The clinic is in Gadalla, west of Soddo. Part of the road is tarmac, but rest is in such poor condition that it takes 1.5 - 2 hours to cover 50 km. The rainy season is setting in and we had already postponed our visit for one day because of heavy rains. The road can become impassable.

At the clinic the patients are waiting. There was a little boy, last in line, with eyes showing yellow (caused by malaria), sick, barefoot in mud like many others, torn trousers and no shirt. I gave him recipe for medicin. When I came back he was standing against the wall, crying. I asked him what was the matter and he opened his hand, showing two wrinkled notes of 1 Birr. He couldn't afford the medicine, costing 6 Birr (60 eurocents)! it was so sad. We gave him food, clothes and the medicine.

Heading back the road appeared to be so slippery that the Toyota four wheel drive was skidding even in low gear. Because the area is part of the Rift Valley, it is not level. For the first time I was a little bit scared.

Prayer issues:
I thank God for:
financial means, the help and friendship of Co and Marja;
safety and protection, also on the road;
support in many ways from the church in Winterswijk, my home Baptist's community in Arnhem Zuid, family and friends.
Please pray for:
the new day clinic 2.5 hours drive north-east of Soddo. Most of this area is Islamic. Mary had been asked for this clinic before. We hope to pay our first visit on June 25th;
wisdom and understanding for the hospital staff and me.
the women's bible study group which I've been asked to carry on with;
safety and protection.


Psalm 18: 31 For who is God except the LORD? And who is a rock besides our God?-

clinic
Soddo Christian Hospital,
Po Box 305, Soddo Wolaitta, Africa

Ruth.Droppers@Gmail.com
Voor giften:
Stg Witte Velden,
Postgiro 1485137
ovv Ruth Droppers
stgwittevelden75@chello.nl
Thuisfront: Esther Droppers, estherdroppers@hotmail.com
Ruth Droppers Serving in Health Care in Ethiopia Voor giften:
Isaiah 55:5 because of the LORD your God,
the Holy One of Israel

Ruth’s Report

Newsletter 3 – September 2007

Often during lunch and supper hours there were no employees.

Sometimes it happened that the emergency department nurse slept during the night in a different room. Which meant that at that time there was no emergency care for the patient.

I try to understand the background of the culture.

It touches me every time how late patients come in to the hospital. To travel 140 miles with a broken arm or 2 days on a donkey with a delivery is no exception.

The disease is prolonged at that stage and the patients are very sick. We also see the damaging effect of the treatment of the local witch doctors.

It happens often that family has no money to pay a whole treatment. The hospital therefore has a benevolent fund. In the committee who checks the requests sits also a Ethopian head nurse and pastor. For me, I see that I have no insite in it, cause how can I distinguish between very poor and a little bit more poor.

The hospital- Soddo Christian Hospital

In the past period we were able to improve the care on the pediatric- and medical ward. Nurses now lay clean sheets on the beds before the doctors round. They measure bloodpressures and write down the temperature as well the used medicines on the chart. As you can see in the pictures below the family members take care for their sick relative. They are in the hospital during the day and the night.

Every day we see in the clinic around 60 patients.

Last month one the general doctors left the team because he started his surgical training. We hope that next month there will be replacement.

Every week we have our own medical meeting in which we talk about diseases.

Together with the other head physician we stressed the importance of a laboratory and rontgen department which are open 24/7 and it seems that it really is working now.

There is 1 doctor to 35.000 people in Ethiopia. In the Netherlands there is 1 doctor to 305 people. They say that Ethiopia has 2000 general doctors. 1000 general doctors work in the bigger cities. Soddo is not a big city.

At the clinic pediatric ward with Korean people and neighbours

Care for twins

In the week when the second newsletter went out, I went with Mary, an American tropical specialist, to the clinic. A mother came walking in to the clinic with her malnourished twins. Their names where Amanuel and Abanezer . They were 2 months old and weight only 2,5 kg. After the delivery the mother was to weak and the babies where given away to family members, with as result that when they returned, the mother had no breastmilk any more. In that area were no wetnurses: mothers who want to breastfeed a second child. There is no clean water. There is no babyfood and when it would be there it would be to expensive. Mary had no place for shelter. What to do? We could not let them die¦.. I decided to take them in with the agreement that they would go back to the parents when they were strong enough. Very soon I had the first necessary baby materials through neighbours, family and friends. And I got help from a short-term American student Ariel who lived a month in my house and helped. And the help of Almaz, an older Ethiopian woman who took care of them from Monday till Friday from 8 am-6pm. In the beginning they lay together in a plastic washing tub and we fed them almost continuously. It the weeks after that grew and started to laugh.

Now three weeks ago, when they weighed 5 kg, they went back to their parents. For me it was nog easy cause I grew attached to them.

We gave the parents baby food, clothes, bottles and dipers and money for the bus to come back to Soddo and get babyfood every week.

Despite this support the parents told us repeatly that they could not take care of the babies; the father has no income and there are also two other children in the family. Recently a son of them passed away.

The parents have decided to give them up for adoption. The twins are now in an orphanage and they are doing good.

The twins at arrival and in week 7
manuel en Abanezer bij aankomst, 3 weken 7 weken

Matthew 25:35

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing.

I would like to thank family and friends for the materials and emails you sent. Often they came at exactly the right moment. I try to answer as quick as possible, but sometimes it can take a while.

I thank the Lord God for:

Safety and protection.
The sent babymaterials trough friends and family.
A work- and Residence permit; the womens Biblestudy group.
Rest in busy times.
Prayer I aks for:

The coming time when I, together with and olders short-term couple, will be alone on the compound. The neighbours and the medical director are for a short period in the States and South-Africa.
The hospital, when we think of expanding the clinic and pharmacy, because the current building is getting to crowded.

If you wish to help Ruth and her work, you can send her a donation (a check from an American bank is fine, there is just no tax deduction here:
Stichting Witte Velden te Hilversum
Postbanknumber 1485137
Netherlands
IBAN: NL 41 PSTB 0001 4851 37
BIC: PSTBNL21
mention her name: for Ruth Droppers

Email of the foundation is: stgwittevelden75@chello.nl
Email of contact person in Netherlands: estherdroppers@hotmail.com

preparing to go

David and I always complain about leaving.
We despise the insanity of trying to get all our work done,
clients happy,
house ready,
bags packed,
lists checked,
forgotten items overnighted,
contact info sheets drawn up . . . and these are the items under the first 100 on my list! Monday, Ethiopia. Three weeks this time. The longest I've left Alden, and I have to say I'm concerned about his reaction to it. I hope I can email often. Connection speeds, or lack thereof, make Skyping a joke.

Right now I should be sleeping, but I'm downloading the audio book, "a thousand splendid suns." I want to listen to it on the trip home if I can figure out how to make this ipod thing Rod gave me work. It will save me space. I have another book, "oracle bones" that I've been saving. It will last me to Ethiopia, then I can give it to Dr. Ruth. I also have a few devotional books, and a couple kids books and a trade mag if I can fit them in.

The carryons are the hardest - I must include everything to make the shoot happen in the likely event that luggage won't arrive. Camera, back up camera. Lenses - long, wide, medium, memory cards - I ordered more today, hope they make it in time - tape stock, video camera(s), mics, cables, chargers for all gear, extra long life batteries, flash for camera, extra AA batteries, fan to run with 220 converter so I don't fry chargers, computer with power supply, blank disks, change of clothing, reading material, medicines, toothbrush. Wear the shoes I can go into the bush with, even though they are annoying in security. Full size pillow. Well hidden crisp $20 bills. Water bottle - empty so I won't be suspected of carrying waterborne explosives. Sunglasses. locks and steel cable, large scarf to use as hood and protection against nasty airline seat or as blanket if flight is delayed. change of socks. Passport. Blow up 3/4 camping air matt. travel alarm clock. I once spent 8 hours sleeping in Curacao while my friends fidgeted in their uncomfortable seats. They made fun of me, lying on my camping mattress covered with my scarf - but I was sleeping and I didn't care - my alarm was set, I could relax. Wish it was that easy at home with kids!

My trips through security are a nightmare. I pity the people behind me. Video camera? yes, at least one. Computer, yes. shoes, yes. bag of liquids? yes. search? yes. Do my carry ons weigh 45 pounds each? yes.

Lovely Zion

Zion was the flower girl in a wedding today for Camille, the college student who used to baby sit her a lot. She did really well going down the aisle and for a few minutes up front. I was proud of her, and she looked very elegant in her Ethiopian clothes.

It was a lovely service and I thought it was very cute that Camille's dad scribbled this line on his hand "her mother and I"

SC Heart Gallery

I shot photos for the SC Heart Gallery the other day, and tonight I worked on them in Photoshop. I'm done, and I can't seem to stop crying. It is a wonderful idea, taking photos of children who want to be in a family. As the photographers, we try to capture the essense of the child in a single black and white photo. The hope is that someone will see the photo in one of the Heart Center galleries or on line and will be able to imagine that child in his or her life.

There were 44 kids at the shoot. Forty-four local children who wanted to have a mommy and/or daddy enough that they risked spending the day with perfect strangers, smiling brightly and posing in hopes that eventually someone would pick them.

I wonder what they thought about on the ride over to the photo shoot. And, that night in bed before sleeping? Did they imagine a couple looking at their photo and saying to themselves, "oh, that boy is for us! He looks so smart and caring and I bet he would enjoy camping with us, too." Or, did they try to forget the possible meaning of the day and concentrate on something else?

This was not the first time for most of the children. I photographed a boy of thirteen, a girl who is fourteen, a boy around twelve and two young (and very energetic) boys. The two eldest stole my heart. What chances do they have of being adopted at this time in their lives?

I looked up an older child on line on the SC waiting child list and sent in an inquiry. How hard is it to adopt an older child? The response I got was curt - unbelievable, really, when you consider what is at stake. Some following up on my part revealed that it is not difficult to adopt locally, and it is next to free when compared with international adoption. And, the child has medical insurance even after she or he is adopted and often there is a monthly stipend to help the family afford another child - all the way through college. You can even foster first, to make sure the child fits within your family.

It seems doable. I will have to find out more. The thought of those precious kids I met going on their first date, learning to drive, picking a major in college, dealing with a mean boss - all without a mom or dad - it just rips me apart.

Photos in the Fair

David won something. We don't know what it is. David is cautioning me, "Maybe you should wait and see what I won. Maybe I got the "what rednecks think this is art" award!
I don't care. I'm proud of him.

I don't have to update

Because my friend Laura talked about our weekend on her blog. Cool. http://nosmallfeat.typepad.com/no_small_feat/2007/09/get-your-motor-.html

Photos for the Fair

I had no idea which photo to enter in the fair, and we had decided we would NOT miss it again this year. So, after a call from David telling me he was pre-registering us, I made up a few titles and am now looking around trying to find shots that will go with them. This one from India was one I remembered liking. The other one has a title called Boat, I think, or China. I'm having more trouble with that one because the shots I like won't crop to the size my printer will print. Of course, the deadline is tomorrow.

I guess this one won't fit either category. One of David's Fair pics is from a one room school in Jarabacoa, DR, so I thought schools were a nice theme. This one is in Kenya. Instead, I ended up printing a boat shot from China. It is in the China blog below. It's okay - I like the people working on the boat, but I am much happier with the Indian tailors. The other is too pastoral, too calm. We'll see what the judges think. They have never liked my work before, so I am not expecting much.

David in the Dominican Republic

Yes, David is out of the country, preparing for the TEARS board meeting. It is a grueling task, as you can see.

the Shoot

So, the big shoot is over. Whew. I just finished getting the living room looking good and David hung a swing for the kids. I had this vision of a cable and ring hanging from the ceiling that I could clip the swing to when they wanted to use it. But, instead, I look over my computer at this:
I must say, beautiful it is not. But, the kids like it. So far today, they have baked a cake, planted a plant, played in the sprinkers, done gymnastics on the beam using all the pillows in the house, played with playdoh and watched a movie. And I had this fantasy of working on my client pitch for Wednesday on my "day off." Jennifer, from the DR, is staying here, and she and David are right now working on TEARS budget stuff. Sounds so fun, I decided to clean under Zion's bed instead of participating. You will be releived that I included no photos of THAT endeavor, though I will admit it took over an hour.The shoot was relaxed. Never before has that happened, so I keep waking at night with hand cluched to my heart in terror that something did go wrong, I just didn't know it. Here are some still grabs from it. The commercials were highly edifying - what to do if the pandemic influenza strikes (that is the flu, for us Southern folks). Talk about making you go home and hide under a clean bed!
Anyway, my friend Jennifer put Lydia up to going over to Wade, the director, and saying (loudly):
Mr. Director, are we all gonna die???It was funny. Then, Alden did this thing that left us puzzling. He grabbed my brother, who was there doing art direction, and literally dragged him up the studio stairs to the actor green room. The door was shut, but he threw it open without knocking and pulled my brother over to the sofa where the pretty Latina actor was sitting. He then sat down with my brother on the sofa, then jumped up, ran out and shut the door behind him. My shy brother was mortified and stuttered to the
actor that he had no idea why Alden had left them alone together and he would be going back to set now. Go figure. Either he thought the actor was lonely, or he realized my brother is the only adult in the family not yet paired up with anyone and thought he should help remedy the situation.

Child Labor

All is crazy at the house as we prepare to make television spots next week, advertising the merits of preparing for a pandemic influenza outbreak of all things. One scene takes place in an art class, so the kids were hard at work last night making their "shirts look like smocks" as Lydia said. This was an early photo. The wildness was just too much to photgraph later on. I hope they don't charge me overtime pay for the late hour.

Attempt at taking a family photo

It is almost midnight. In a few hours, I take the kids to school. It is Alden's first day at school in the States, and Sarah's first day in a public school. I'm exhausted thinking about getting kids to a school one hour before we normally wake up - FIVE days a week! Alden has to take a potted plant and a framed photo. Guess when that all started happening? Ten pm. I've repotted a plant we bought at IKEA near Washington DC this afternoon on the way home from Pennsylvania. And, we tried to get a photo with all of us in it last night at David's birthday party. Yes, as usual, Zion is wearing someone else's shoes - she does not have freakishly big feet, and yes, it was challenging to get them to stay in roughly one place and it is sort of in and out of focus as a result. I can't get the photo to print without stretching all of us, so David has decided it is fine, it makes us look skinny, so I'm going to bed. We actually planned to attempt a cool pose like this one on my friend Chris' blog www.ewingadventure.blogspot.com. HA!!

Ft Benning shoot

Tim, sound man extraordinaire, got some fun photos at our shoot in Ft. Benning with the ultimate fighter guy, Matt somebody, I can't remember his name, but he was nice and could really fight. They don't kid around with that stuff. My favorite part, though, was when the military guys were screaming at Matt and his brother Mark when they went though the obstacle course, "YOU ARE THE WEAKEST LINK!!!!"

Nightly Rituals

Every night, Sarah, Alden and Dad play Trouble. Some nights, Sarah's friend Lydia joins in. And, on occasion, Mom will play a game. It is quite loud, competitive and intense, and does little to calm the kids down before bed. Gotta love it.

EdVenture with Energy

So, everyone is asking why I'm not updating my blog. The answer is that I have three kids now!
But, Saint Joanna is back and I quit my job, so my nose is barely above water. Alden - yes, Peng - now prefers his American name, likely due to the fact that we butchered his Chinese name, is doing very well. Today, Joanna took Zion and him to EdVenture Children's Museum, which is a fabulous place here in Columbia. I do not know how she handled the two of them for all those hours. Truly. Notice Zion's "on camera" face? This is not a photoshop trick!