weekly update

Happy September! It is slightly shocking to me that I have been in Africa for almost three months. Time is passing ever so quickly. I will be home for Christmas before I know it!

Life is normalizing as much as it can on a hospital ship. I am no longer shocked by the array of cultures and countries on board. Whenever I hear the captain’s voice over the loudspeaker I no longer ponder if Arnold Swartzeneggar is in the building. And I have realized the essentials needed for any outing: a water bottle, umbrella, some Liberian money, no more than 10 people, a watch, and walk able shoes.
Sometimes I call report “handover”. Sometimes I call Tylenol “Paracetemol”. And I add an extra “O” sound to almost every word (rather than I’m fine, I am fine o). When in Liberia, do as the Liberians.

We have been plenty plenty busy on the ward and I have been working about 50 hours a week. I was starting to feel entirely burnt out but I finally had some time off this weekend and feel seemingly renewed.

Yesterday I was able to go to the hotel Ducor. It use to be a five star hotel which was a popular vacation spot, but after fourteen years of war it is now only a concrete shell. As many as 2500 refugee’s at once have lived inside the building since the war ended. In May, the government mandated their leaving. The building is now constantly guarded.

One of the guards took us to the top of the building. It’s the tallest point in Monrovia and we were given a birds eye view of the entire city. Monrovia’s skyline consist of a series of bombed out buildings. The residential areas were a collisions of opposing roofs that formed a muddy mosaic of tin. You could watch the parade of old, yellow taxi’s half hazardly swarm on broken roads that were colored with various heaps of trash.

Contrasted with the city was the soothing view of the coast. The strong waves crashing against the quiet yellow shoreline. I find the beaches here to carry an aurora of majesty that is pleasurable to the beholder.

No one won Liberia’s war. The children who were maimed didn’t win. The president who stepped down didn’t win. The rebels who have no place to work didn’t win. The people who have no food and water didn’t win. The president who is trying to rebuild Liberia didn’t win.

There is enough dignity in the architect of the city that you easily imagine what it must have been like before the war, When the buildings were used for the intended purposes. When the roads carried people to places of business and commerce.

Now the roads are stained with blood. People are scared to enter certain buildings because of memories from the war. So instead of a thriving city there is a sad reminder of a fallen world.

Today I read this
Proverbs 8:18,19,21
Riches and honor are with Me, yea, durable riches and righteousness. ..I lead in the way of righteousness, in the midst of the paths of judgment; that I may cause those that love me to inherit substance; and I will fill their treasures.

As I looked at Monrovia’s broken skyline and thought of the horrendous first accounts of war I have heard on the ward, I mourned man’s depravity. The buildings were created for beauty and purpose. But as a result of lust, greed, and power, they have become broken shells. Memories of what they were. Shadows of what they could have been.

Likewise we groan. We feel dissatisfied. We have memories of what the world was. We see shadows of what it should be. But our hope is not in this world. We hope for more durable riches. Things that thieves and rust cannot destroy.
God Bless! Meg
p.s. there are new links to pictures on my blog if interested www.megisinafrica.blogspot.com