Humbled

There's a pervasive idea that we should give/help only when we have more than we need/want. When we have an excess, sure, we can give to others. 

Here at the camp I see how wrong that idea is. All you need is a generous heart. The people I am meeting here are teaching me so much, I'm starting to doubt that I came here to help them. They are the ones helping me! 

I started a project to screen all the residents >40 and the pregnant ladies for diabetes and high blood pressure. That means I have been walking around the camp visiting the rooms and talking to them (through a translator) to ask them to fast for 12hrs and come see me in the morning. And they smile at me, invite me for dinner, for a cup of tea, the kids jump in my arms, or follow me around everywhere. They left everything behind, fleeing for their lives. They have nothing, but what little they have, they're willing to share. 

I'm humbled by their generosity, and I only hope I can learn from them. 

A few general pictures of the camp to give you all an idea of how things are:

Entrance to the abandoned factory converted into living quarters

Corridors

Corridors

Some families closed up little corridors and use adjacent rooms as rooms in a house

Cooking facilities 

The delicious food provided by us by some of the refugees, who insisted we all come to dinner, then actually came back to the clinic the next day and brought us another plateful! 

Here they are! I asked them to teach me how to make it. Hopefully that will work!! 

The tents outside -- it's too cold now, so they're being moved in, but some don't want to, because the rooms are all close together. In the tents they have more privacy

The UNHCR is responsible for registering them and also provide the tents, blankets and other necessities

There's even a little library!! 

A weekend away...

Hey everyone,

Sorry I didn't post anything last week, but things were just a bit crazy, I wasn't sleeping well and just felt exhausted and overwhelmed. 

A few weeks ago, I had met two people, James and Casilda, who work in a refugee camp in the south of Chad, for citizens from the Central African Republic (CAR) who have been deplaced by the war. They had invited me to come visit, and last weekend, I finally did. 

You might be thinking that going to a UNHCR refugee camp is probably not the best way to decompress, but it was actually great. 

There's no electricity there, only the big NGOs and a few restaurants have generators, so there's very little light pollution. The sky at night is incredible... 

The children are not afraid of white people (they probably weren't told that we come to take them and drink their blood) so they all smile and come shake hands. 

The food at the market is pretty darn good, and the meat is from a cow/sheep/goat who roamed the fields freely, was alive that morning and was immediately put on the fire after slaughter, so it's as healthy as it gets... 

I went for long walks by the river to watch the sunset--

I met handicapped refugees who got parts so they could fix their tricycles (no wheelchairs here)- 

That's Paulin, his legs are completely atrophied, but he gets around great on his tricycle, even going about 40km to the nearest city and back!

That's a beautiful African mama, also handicapped, holding her adorable baby...

James taking a fixed tricycle for a test drive...

It was an intense weekend, but very relaxing. I met people from several NGOs, people whose job is actually improving the lives of the refugees. I got into great discussions about how to organize health campaigns and teach the people what they should do if a child gets sick (**immediately bring them to the hospital and not wait 3 days until they're almost dead**). 

I also watched a Muslim funeral, for the father of one of the refugees who is a friend of James. He probably had a massive stroke, from what I gathered about how it happened.

Then we were invited for a genuine feast by another refugee, a man who was an architect, had worked and traveled to several African countries, had 2 houses and his own business in Bangui (capital of CAR) but was persecuted and almost killed for speaking against the government. Today he's a refugee living in a camp, with almost nothing. He still honored us with a 3-course meal of salad  fried plantanes, fried potatos, lamb in a delicious sauce, and watermelon for desert. 

That's Rodrigue on the right, with his sister-in-law, another refugee and James.

That's me holding Rodrigue's adorable baby...! 

All in all, it was a great weekend. Of course, coming back to the hospital, I had a horrible pain in my stomach, wondering what awful things had happened in my absence. Luckily, everything was ok, everyone was still alive, and **all** of the patients were happy to see me, wanted to shake my hand, said they missed me and were happy to see me back. 

It's hard to be here, but it's also good to be back where I know I can make a difference. It's good to know I'm appreciated and missed. And I like the fact that everybody knows my name and smiles big when they see me... it's kinda like being home...