Swimming with Sharks!

Much can be said about birthdays. The more you have... the longer you live!
        --- Personally, I like them.

This year's birthday was extra special though; I got to cross off another long life dream from my bucket list.

I went swimming with Great White Sharks!

For anyone who knows me even a little, you aren't surprised by my thrill seeking decisions.
        --- Life is an adventure and is worth living well! 

So when I realized that I'd be in South Africa again on my birthday this year, (attending the wonderful and amazing Calvary Chapel African Conference near Cape Town!) I immediately started planning how and when I might swim with the fishes (aka: the Great White overgrown guppies with teeth!)

As it would turn out, the cost was much less than I expected and all was arranged pretty quickly. My missionary friends were not interested in joining me but they were willing to get me to the boat on time. This was no easy task however, as we had to be out the door by five a.m. to make it!

Fortunately the day was warm and beautiful for this time of year and the sea was calm. Since it is still late winter in South Africa, the waters were chilly --a startling 53 degrees Fahrenheit (or 11 degrees Celsius).

As I waited my turn, five to six sharks turned circles about our boat, nibbling at our fish-head bait before moving on. I was surprised to learn that although they come to investigate the bait, sharks are not scavengers by nature. They much prefer fresh meals. Who knew?!

I also learned that they are not at all interested in human blood. (It does not register as 'food' to them.) And shark attacks are usually as a result of them confusing humans for seals --especially those humans on surf boards.
      ---What a crunchy surprise they must have at first chomp!

Convincing myself to get into the water was hard, however. It was not the sharks but the cold that worried me. Even with my full body wet suit, I'd knew I'd freeze. But in the end, the desire to see the slick beasts up close won out, and I jumped in.

The visibility was fair but the viewing was best from the boat by the time my turn at the cage came around. Fortunately, I was able to see at least one of the sharks underwater before we had to close up shop and head home.

Since my camera was unable to capture the overgrown guppies when they surfaced, I purchased a video of the day from the boat photographer. Enjoy!



Video filmed by the unknown boat photographer at Shark Lady Adventures.

Mozambican Birthday.

 

(This post comes almost two weeks late because of my pitiful luck with electrical gremlins and pathetic internet access. Sorry for the delay...  :- ) 

Don’t laugh... but I spent my birthday this year reading.

            --Yep. Reading.

Not having any meetings to attend or local officials to meet (as I’m still waiting to hear back from the director of the ministry of health), I decided to dig into the Natural Medicine in the Tropics book by Dr. Hans Martin Hirt and Bindanda M’Pia. (Check out their amazing work with this link.)

All I can say is... I’m inspired. All I want to do is plant things and watch them grow.

Already I’ve had the chance to see some of these natural remedies in action... and they work! The cough syrup you already know about... but do you know that you can use garlic as a natural antibiotic?!

A boy was brought to me with a severely infected and pus-filled wound recently. It was so nasty, there was quite a bit of debate as to whether or not he should start antibiotics immediately. But having just read this book, I suggest he bind it first overnight with a garlic compress then re-evaluate in the morning.

Well... one night of the garlic compress however was all it took. The next morning, the pain was gone along with the pus-filled infection. Antibiotics were not needed after all!

Oh how I love garlic!

Oh, but I digress... I meant to share about my birthday.

To be brief... my day was filled with books; my night was filled with cake --delicious, strawberry cake.

The middle school aged orphan girls baked me a two layered white cake and filled it with strawberry jam and topped it with butter frosting.

Although not the prettiest cake I’ve ever seen, it certainly rivaled some the finest of bakeries in taste! It was delicious!

Plus the girls honored me in song, singing Happy Birthday in harmonized sopranos and altos. Believe me, having a dozen well-trained voices serenade you for your birthday is delightful!

(Mavis, the woman who runs the girl’s home used to teach music and voice back in here native land of England. She has taught the girls well!)

My new capulana (aka: African print).

As a gift, the high school girls bought me a capulana --a traditional African print which is worn as a skirt. It’s green, blue, black, and white. I absolutely love it!

The beautiful S. African Milk Tart.

But my birthday celebration didn’t end there; the following day a fellow missionary introduced me to Dutch Milk Tart --a South African specialty. It took her all day, as you have to make it all from scratch. But boy was it worth it!

            --Absolutely delicious... and unlike any tart I’ve ever tasted before.

I have to say, I’ve really enjoyed my birthday this year thanks to all my dear friends across the world and here locally. Thank you all for helping me mark the day!

May the next 35 years be equally blessed and full of friends!

Twins... but Three!

Madit... Ngor... and lil' Adwel!

Monday was another day of madness at the clinic. Thirty-eight woman lined up like eggs in a carton awaited me, pink prenatal book in hand. 

I gulped and smiled quickly in their direction as I entered the clinic, lifting both hands in greeting as I walked. Some laughed and greeted me in return.

Turning to my translator in mock disbelief I asked how many there were.
“There is many many. I think 38 but others still coming,” he said not hiding the strain in his voice.
“Sounds great,” I volleyed back at him trying to lift his spirits, “Let’s get started.”
                --Thirty-eight? How will I get through so many? 

After teaching them briefly on the importance of coming regularly and delivering at the clinic, I warned them of the evils of malaria. Thirty-eight shiny black faces watched me politely do my schpeal, getting up every now and again to stretch or spit.
               --Do they believe me, Lord?

Afterward, I called in patient after patient, measured bellies, palpated parts, and counted out the steady rhythm of electronic heartbeats.

Sometime midmorning the steady flow of preggos was interrupted by my translator:
 “Excuse mad’am Akuac (my Dinka name) there is a woman outside. She is come for her babies to be check.”
“Did she deliver with us?” I quarried. I tend to only do baby checks if they deliver at the clinic.
“No. She is deliver at home,” he said hesitantly while trying to meet my eyes and adding, “She deliver twins ... but three!” The excitement in his voice bordered on awe.
“Twins but three?” I asked, “Do you mean triplets?”
He nodded.
“Bring me her book.”

He filtered through the masses to get her book while I watched on tip-toes from my screened off window. I couldn’t get a good look because of the throng.

I quickly finished with the lady on my prenatal bed, prayed for her, then sent her on her way.
           --Triplets? Really, Lord? Triplets... and I missed it?

My translator returned with her book and I laughed as I quickly flipped through it.

I had seen her just once. During that prenatal I’d guessed her to be breech with polyhydramnios (aka: an overabundance of amniotic fluid). I also assumed she was term since her fundal height was 37 cm. (For those who don’t know, a fundal height is the size of a woman’s belly in centimeters which helps determine gestational age, etc.)

Not once did I suspect twins... let alone triplets! Ha ha!

Then it was my turn to wade through the crowds.

Three men sat in a row each holding a baby wrapped in various scraps of cloth; they smiled proudly as I lifted the make-shift blankets to glimpse their tiny cargo.

Preterm but apparently strong, I smiled in relief and asked if they had breastfed yet. I was informed that two had sucked just once but the smallest one wouldn’t.

I did a slow survey of the crowd of expectant faces and instantly recognized their mother. Tired and squatting low, she had a belly-band cinching her waist --a dead give-away. (Cultural note: woman wear strips of cloth around their bellies postpartum to help control bleeding.)

“Three?” I asked her with a smile.
She just nodded slowly in response.
“Why didn’t you come to let me help you?”
“I didn’t know I was in labor,” She explained, “I had no pain.”
“Really? No pain?” I asked in surprise. “That’s great!”

The rest of the morning we monitored the babies and got them stable. But other than a weak suck, they were doing well. When I got around to doing a Ballard’s score (aka: a way to determine a preterm baby’s gestational age) they fell into the 33 weeks range. That’s roughly 2 months early.

Their mother, Yar, is young, and this is only her second pregnancy. She’s just barely 20-years-old and now has 4 kids! Pray for her! Pray that she’ll fight to keep these babies well fed and that her milk will gush in!

Also pray for these little ones --they are two boys and a girl.
Boy #1: weighs 1.4 kg (3 lbs) who they’ve named Madit. He’s the oldest.
Boy #2: weighs 1.2 kg (2.6 lbs) who was born second and is named Ngor.
Girl #3: weighs just 1 kg (2.2 lbs) who is the cutest thing ever! She’s named after her grandmother, Adwel.

Please pray that they’ll thrive despite having the cards stacked against them. We know a God who is able to do this and oh so much more! I so desire for them to live!

They are my first triplets; but I especially like them because we share the same birthday! Yep. It was my birthday yesterday. And for it, God sent me twins... but three!

He he he.... best birthday present ever!

Oh... and I did eventually get to the rest of my prenatals. But some of them had to wait, literally all day. I finished seeing them at 6 pm. Yikes!

What a day!

Swahili Birthday Song

This is how Kenyan's sing "Happy Birthday"

33 yrs of blessings!

I particularly liked the spelling of my name!

This week I turned 33 years old and honestly...  sometimes it’s hard to believe. There are things I thought I would have and do by now but haven’t. But then again, there is a list twice as long of things I’ve had the joy of experiencing. As I look back over my life, I can’t imagine living this adventure any differently. Sure, I would have avoided those freaky wave bangs of the 80’s and probably would have at least tried out for some kind of sport in High School... but all in all, no complaints.

It’s been a great 33 years. I pray the next round is just as fabulous.

One of my sisters got me a ‘special delivery’ package through a short term team and I’ve kept it to open on my birthday. It was a beautiful yellow dress. Oh! So African! I felt so thrilled to have a nice dress to wear to church. (Here, you get dressed to the hilt for Church service! I’ve been worried I would have nothing to wear.)

After church, I celebrated my birthday with missionary friends at an Italian restaurant called Medditeraneo. It was absolutely marvelous! When our server found out it was my birthday he offered me a dessert of my choice. Raspberry Cheesecake! Of Course!

But I asked him kindly NOT to sing “happy birthday” to me. (I have issues with the song. It’s like nails on a chalkboard.) If he insisted on singing, perhaps he could do it in his local language, I suggested. This confused him somewhat.... and I could hear a long discussion about it with some of the other staff in the background.

However when my most excellent cheesecake came out... it was followed by ALL the staff (including the kitchen!) singing in Swahili. It WASN’T the happy birthday song... but some chant in my honor. I loved it!

The best part was one of the chefs was beating out the rhythm with serving spoons! Priceless!

It was certainly a birthday to remember. If I can ever get the song video uploaded on youtube, i'll link it here. :- )