Time to Refill

When I sit still and listen instead of the drone of the generator in the ship's engine room, I hear crickets chirping. The scene in front of me is still the deep, blue, rolling ocean but I am high on a mountain side, surrounded by a beautiful flowering garden, sitting at a table abundantly supplied with cheeses, meats, bread, pastries, coffee, juice and fresh fruits of all kinds. It could just be heaven on earth! So many things I love in one place. So many things that fill me up to overflowing thankfulness. Volastra, June 2014

 

This blog has been silent for the past two months because I have been away traveling, visiting friends, seeing new sights and filling up. I have thought a lot about whether to write all about it here or not, because sometimes I feel guilty for living such a fun life considering I’m not earning any money, but my love for seeing new things and capturing them has won. I want to share it.

The traveling began at the end of May as we (myself and my friend, Steph) left the ship in Congo only a week before they sailed away for the Canary Islands for maintenance. We headed to South Africa, visiting Johannesburg, Cape Town and driving along some of the Garden Route stopping in Victoria Bay, near George. We went on an overnight safari in a national park a few hours drive outside of Johannesburg. On the drive our tour guide told us all about Johannesburg and the surrounding areas. We saw a lot of independent settlements (the politically correct word for shanty towns or slums) crammed together, rusty iron roofs held down with old tyres, power lines strung like spider webs in between each and satellite dishes erected on roofs as plentiful as houses themselves. The distance between the rich and poor there is very plain to see. In the West Africa I see, just about everyone is poor and somehow this seems a lot easier to witness. I found myself wondering what West Africa will look like in 20-30 years as each country continues to develop. I spent hours in the car, staring out the window, wondering how much change I’ll see in Africa over my life time and how I will be a part of it.

Between my hours of daydreaming, we saw some cool animals!

 

I enjoyed exploring Cape Town, with it's beautiful beaches and wine tasting!

In Cape Town I fulfilled a statement I made five years ago by finally visiting my friend from the ship in 2009! It was lovely to meet her husband and cute little girl!

In a small town near George, we went on an Ostrich farm tour where we got to feed and then ride an ostrich!

Steph was definitely the brave one during this adventure!

 

Facing a fear, I managed to successfully navigate around Cape Town and the Garden Route in a hire car, with my trusty sidekick navigator Steph.

 I have to say, I sighed in relief when I had the hire car back with no damage, on time, with a full tank of petrol!

The view of Table Mountain from The Waterfront in Cape Town

Onwards and upwards, we flew from the bottom of the world to the top in practically the same time zone! Cape Town to Dublin. We spent a few days in the west of Ireland before heading up to visit our friend Jane in Northern Ireland.

Cliffs of Moher

See the tiny people at the very top of the cliffs? It's hard to see in the photos just how huge the cliffs truly are! (120-214m high, 390-700ft)

We had the warmest of welcomes in Northern Ireland at our friend Jane's. Another friend, Kirstie, flew over for a couple of days and we had a wonderful time exploring together.

Hanging around on The Giant's Causeway

We had one of those 'Let's embrace being wild and free' moments and decided to roll/slide down this sand dune. Jane refused but Kirstie, Steph and I ran up the steep hill. Firstly, the jackets we had didn't slide so well when we sat on them and so we put them back on, zipped them up, pulled our hoods up and rolled down the hill. In doing so, we got absolutely covered in sand and landed at the bottom with motion sickness but had a good laugh.

Jane took us to her family farm and we got to see so many places that are dear to her heart. It was beautiful to share with her.

I also didn't realize what trouble still faces Belfast and the rest of Northern Ireland with the Protestant and Catholic divide. It was quite the education for me to learn about all that still goes on there.

The Peace Wall

Since we live on a ship and that creates all sorts of interest and understanding of other ships, we went out to see where the Titanic had been built!

The next city to explore was Dublin and our newly acquainted friend from the ship, Mary.

I enjoyed one of my favourite drinks ever- Baileys Cappuccino, and what better place to have it than Ireland, creator of Baileys Irish Cream. 

We went to Jameson Irish Whiskey Distillery for a tour. I'm not a whiskey fan, but enjoyed learning about the difference between American Bourbon, Scotch Whiskey and Irish Whiskey.

My whiskey cocktail- since I don't like it straight!

A hop across the ocean and we landed in London. We put our walking shoes on and walked the soles off, enjoying the sights of London. I was able to catch up with friends from home who have recently moved to London!

And hang out with Mercy Ships friends too!

First time London explorers, Hannah and Steph

Changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace

We ate dinner at a restaurant inside a shipping container, feeling very at home!

It was beautiful catching up with Frances and her gorgeous baby boy! What a cutie!!

We said goodbye to friends in London and headed off to Paris! The Eurostar is a quick and super easy way to travel from London to Paris and before the day was over, we were up the Eiffel Tower to see the sunset and enjoy the views!

Arc de Triomphe

We spent a day at Palace of Versailles, enjoying the palace and the beautiful gardens.

I'm not one to gush about my love for Paris, but I really do like it. I love the beautiful buildings, the patisseries on every corner, the wonder of what gem you will stumble upon around the next corner.

Notre Dame

The Louvre

From Paris to Italy, we took the overnight train. Now, Steph had a terrible night sleep and decided she'd never travel on an overnight train again, but, even though we were disturbed by sniffer dogs in the middle of the night, and woken several other times between the hours of 2-4am, I thought it was so uniquely fun.

This seat turned into two bunk beds

The overnight train took us to Venice where we threw off our warm clothes for short sleeves and flip flops! We loved the slower pace of Venice, with no traffic but the boats on the canals. After meeting up with friends from the ship, we wandered the streets looking in the Murano Glass shops, eating pastries, drinking coffee, soaking up the sights and then doing it all over again until we were quite turned around, having the follow the map very closely to find our way home.

 
Just as we were collecting our bags to walk to the train, it started to rain. By the time we got close, the skies opened up and it dumped down! We were quite soaked!

An early closing McDonald's and a long wait on the platform called for my first vending machine dinner that night. Weirdly, it wasn't Steph's! Ask her about that one ;)

After arriving to Volastra, Cinque Terre in the darkness the night before, staring out into the blackness gave us no insight as to what the view would be from our hotel. So the next day when I walked around the corner to where the breakfast was served, this was my view:

My breath was honestly taken away as I stared out over the ocean at the beautiful views. The village of Manarola was to our left, straight down the mountainside. 1,095 stairs down. Once we reached the village and walked around to see it, this was our view:
 

Picture perfect. The last shuttle came at 19:40. We had to be on it or else we had to climb those 1.095 stairs (which we had to do once) but at the top at our hotel, we had this view to watch the sunset and drink the best hot chocolate I've ever had.

The stairs

We met up with a few friends from the ship and spent one day hiking from village to village, around the sides of the mountains, through the vineyards, staring out over the blue seas, intrigued as to what view would be around the next corner.

Vernassa

And then there were more friends from the ship to explore with!

Riomaggoire

Next city, Florence. I couldn't get over how huge and amazing the Cathedral Duomo is!

Statue of David

One of my favourite moments in Florence was being spotted by a family that Steph and I had met in Volastra, Cinque Terre. In the whole city of Florence, they happened to spot me and while Steph looked around a museum, I sat and had a coffee with my new friends!

From Florence we headed out through the province of Siena, Tuscany, to the village of San Gimignano, a small, walled, medieval town on the top of a hill, boasting several tall towers.

I loved being out in the country, seeing the rolling hills of vineyards, the variety of the colour green and the blue sky stretched as far as I could see, uninterrupted by buildings.

 

From San Gimignano we traveled to Rome for a quick stop at the Colosseum and a Hop On Hop Off bus tour before getting on our next plane.

We made a mistake about our flight time but still manged to check-in for our international flight with only 30 minutes until take off! We rushed through security with some help from the staff and hustled through the terminal to our gate, only to find everyone still standing around. Once boarded, there was a mistake on the manifest and we ended up having to sit on the plane for two hours before we took off, headed for Santorini, Greece.

We arrived in day light and were picked up from the airport by our hotel owner, the most friendly, hospitable man in Santorini! We were looked after so well and loved every minute of staying at Antonia Hotel. They were so helpful and I loved watching the family work together to look after their guests.
After eating a yummy Greek dinner, we walked to Fira town centre to see what we could find.  As night fell, we followed our noses to find a view of Fira.

I made it my mission to find Greek styled buildings and try to capture the beauty. I was constantly commenting on all the shades of blue that I saw. It was beautiful!

Mmm... decadent breakfast

Our daily Greek salad

Last port of call was Athens, where we surprised two of our friends who were flying over to holiday with a mutual friend of ours. It was so fun to see them and explore Athens together.

The first modern day Olympic venue

The Temple of Zeus

Up the Acropolis at the Parthenon

The Temple of Zeus

Back to London and one last day trip to hang out with Mercy Ships 2009 friends. How wonderful to see and catch up with friends who connected such a long time ago.

And then it was time to go home to Australia.

And here I am, sitting in my parent's house, the one that I called home three and a half years ago, and now is really my home away from home. Only this time I'm visiting for three months, the longest time I will have spent in Australia since December 2010. Naturally, the longer I am away from Australia, the more changes, but in the last 12 months there's been more change than usual. Slowly but surely I'm catching up with friends scattered across the city, working on projects at home and getting organised for my sister's wedding. I will begin some part-time work soon and try to remember how to be a nurse in Australia! I already miss my African patients and am looking forward to returning to the ship in October, but in the meantime I am remembering to appreciate all that I have been given for this time and to soak in renewed friendships.

In Six Days

One of my patient's stories was recently revealed to me by another nurse. 13 years ago during the civil war in Congo, Paul was in his teens and running away from the soldiers who were shooting at him and those in his village. His grandmother was too old or unable to run and so in true love, he picked her up on his back and ran with her tightly clinging to him. He was, however, not fast enough to outrun the gunfire. His grandmother was shot and killed as she clung to him and his nose was shot right off his face, sparing his life but leaving him disfigured. All these years later he was able to have a free surgery to reconstruct his face.

It's a long process as we take skin from the head and flap it down to make the new nose and leave it attached looking very strange for three weeks while the blood supply becomes strong. Then after three weeks the pedicle flap is released and our patient has a new nose. You should see the smile that the patient has plastered on their face for the next days. It is truly unforgettable! Paul was no exception for that award-winning smile!

Charissa, one of my fellow nurses, spent time with Paul during the reconstruction

Three weeks later, his nose is finished!

Over time the nose will shrink a little, but I think it looks so great already!!

Things here are really wrapping up fast. I have said countless goodbyes and have countless more to come. At the end of the day there is a list being written in my head of things to do that I would prefer to put off for another day, but the next day rolls around and all too soon these things cannot be put off any longer. Tonight I finished writing goodbye cards for numerous friends who are yet to leave this week, the following week and even after that. The ship will be a different place when I return in October after a huge turnover of staff.

But for now, we still have six beautiful patients downstairs in the hospital for two more short days. The rest of the hospital has been packed up, cleaned and put into a shipping container. (Do you think I can write that on my resume?)

Today I went down to the hospital and walked into the ward four times, each for a different reason, but ever so willing to spend time with our lasting Congolese Day Crew who have translated for us all these months and to hang out with the patients who have settled themselves deep in my heart.

Deborah and Deborah! They shorten her name to Debo. So it's been Debo & Debo.

Some of our D ward team

In six short days I will be leaving Congo... I sit here, unsure what to write next. Yesterday a friend said to me, hey this time next week it'll be you standing on the dock for goodbyes. I felt like I'd had the wind knocked out of me. Although it's not a final goodbye to the ship, each country goodbye comes with a deep sadness. All the patients that I have touched, cared for and loved are being left behind. I wish it were easier to follow up with them. I'd dearly love to know how their life turns out to be, how their friends think of their new face, how they fit back into their society, how much their self-esteem has grown while they've been in our care and how much they know that God truly adores them.

This is the group of patients sitting on the ward tonight. Please pray for them as we trust and wait on God for their healing!

And so in six days I fly away, ready for some much needed time out, but I can hardly wait to have a little one in my arms again soon. Are you ready for that my Aussie friends? See you in a few weeks!

This Was My Today

As I opened my eyes I realised I was laying on my side. I saw grass, bush, green shrubs and craning my neck, the tall tree. Confused I looked down at my legs, seeing something white coming through my denim overalls. I was laying in the grass in a pool of blood. My legs were swollen to double their normal size, filling the size of my baggy pants. I told myself to not look down there again or I'd make myself feel sick.
Barely conscious I tried to help the person who was bandaging my leg. A thick, warm, fuzzy feeling enveloped my thighs as I bled into the grass. A numbness spread down my legs.

My eyes were closed to block out the sights I didn’t understand, magnifying the sounds of my fellow grade nine classmates who had gathered around me, crying hysterically. Keeping my head resting on my left arm, I lay there, pain pulsating through my body at every tiny touch.

I revisited in my mind the sights I’d seen. My body had flown upwards as planned, but instead of being caught by the bungee cord I’d seen it laying on the ground in front of me while I was still in the air.

 

Falling.

 

Falling.

 

Pain.

 

The most intense pain you’ve ever felt.

 

Apart from the noise of crying and the instructors on their radios making the appropriate emergency calls, no one knew what to say. Time was crawling. Every second that passed the pain intensified and the pool of blood spread. I opened my eyes periodically and saw the red, tear stained faces of my friends, clinging onto my left hand, outstretched on the ground at their knees. I told them I would be ok.

 

Breaking the silence, a friend boldly spoke out, “We need to pray!” Voices rose immediately, intermingled petitions to God, mine among them. God take away the pain. Thank you that I am alive. Please take away the pain.

 

The place of escape I’d built in my mind was disturbed by the ambulance who arrived 20 minutes after my body had hit the ground and smashed. They immediately set to work putting in an IV and giving fluids and what I most desired, pain relief. Never enough, the paramedic continued to ask what my pain was out of ten. Always a ten or nine and a half out of ten, the pain was hardly dulled, instead it filled my mind, pushing out all thoughts of confusion or darkness, immersed in pain.

 

Barely able to listen to the words being spoken around me the paramedic was asking me all sorts of questions. The effort to open my mouth, form the words with my thick, dry tongue and project them from my throat was almost too much to ask. Through the fog of my pain, I answered her questions and did as she required me to do, meanwhile thinking that my sister standing by my side holding my IV bag could have answered them much quicker than myself.

 

“Is your back sore Deb?” one of the ambulance officers asked. I slowly thought about it. I had moved my head and neck around, I could wiggle my toes, or could I? Who knew where all that pain was coming from? And so the ambulance team decided to roll me from my original position on the dirt and grass onto a spinal board.

“On my call. Ready, brace, move!” And all at once every broken bone moved and shifted and grated against each other. My muscles revolted against me as they began to spasm, shooting the most intense pain throughout my entire being. Over and over again, despite my deep breathing and telling myself to relax, the spasms continued. Torturous spasms.

 

Pain.

 

Pain.

 

Pain.

Thinking I may have spinal injuries, the ambulance personnel decided to send me to a hospital in a nearby city. At that exact period of time there was an RACQ CareFlight Helicopter about to fly overhead.

While I lay on the spinal board, tortured by muscle spasms, I was covered in blankets to keep the debris off and the helicopter landed.  The spinal board which I was tightly strapped onto, neck brace holding my head stiffly in place, was picked up and carried onto the helicopter. My sister Sarah, hopped into the cramped space holding me and the machines and equipment that would hopefully keep me alive. Tears rolling down her cheeks she managed to choke, “Bye Deb, I love you.”

 

They didn’t expect me to survive that night. There were too many risks and complications which my body faced for the doctors to have high hopes of a good recovery.

 

The people continued to pray.

 

All night long, from before I went into surgery at 10pm, until after they had closed me up at 7am, too tired to continue, I was lifted up in prayer.

Exactly 14 years ago this was my today.

Sometimes I write about miracles. The creation of each of our lives is one, but some, like me have had more. That day I fell 15 metres (45 feet) from a sling shot bungee. It was an accident. It was one of those things that never happens to you, only the unfortunate person on the news. I survived the unsurvivable. Bilateral complete fractured femurs, (Right femur compound- I could see one half of the bone sticking out through my jeans), a terribly fractured left humerous (almost severing the nerve to my whole arm, the one I write with) and about 13 dislocated and fractured bones in my left foot. In short, my whole body was quite a mess for a time.

I could write pages and pages more of what procedures I had, how long it took to recover physically and emotionally, how it impacted my friends who were watching and heard my bones snapping, how my family coped and on and on, but the end result is this: Jesus saved my life that day and walked with me closely through my recovery. Prayers were answered, big prayers. (If you want to know specific answers just ask!)

And the result? Not only did my faith develop in incredible ways but through my time in hospital as a patient I gained a deep appreciation for my nurses and decided I wanted to be one. I wanted to model the kindness and compassion they had shown me in my weakest, most vulnerable moments.

During my recovery, particularly in the first days when I was barely conscious, people were praying for me. The word was spread not only around the whole of Australia thanks to the National News, but to the United States, the Philippines, Canada, New Zealand and perhaps countries I didn’t even know about. I have actually met countless people who once they have heard my story, they’ve turned to me and said, “Oh my gosh, that was you!? I prayed for you!” And to those who I’ve never met and perhaps never will, Thank you! Your prayers truly made a difference. I don’t know who I would be without them.

May 2000- A school in Brisbane who had never met me sent this beautiful bunch of flowers while I recovered.

The Road Ahead

When I look in front of me, I feel anxious. It's that time of the year again when the field service is coming to an end. Stretched out ahead of us is only two weeks left of surgery time, then the operating rooms close. The hospital will be open for one more week and then whether our patients are ready or not, we discharge them home or into another's care for follow-up, we close our doors, clean and pack the whole hospital into a shipping container. We farewell our Day Crew (ward translators), whom we have worked with side by side for the past 10 months, never knowing if we'll see them again and then with the energy left, I must stand on the dock bidding farewell to the scores of nurses whom I have served with, loved, created memories and relied upon. Then, my home the ship, will be packed up and ready to sail away from Congo to the next country for maintenance.Just thinking about it I feel exhausted. This will be my fifth country to say goodbye to. As for saying goodbye to friends, did you know that crew are constantly coming and going multiple times per week? At the end of the outreach though it happens en masse, leaving a hole of emptiness in your heart for each beautiful person who crept inside during the last 10 months but has now left your reach.

This next outreach has suddenly changed location. The outreach was planned for Guinea but they have had a recent outbreak of the deadly Ebola virus, a viral hemorrhagic disease. As of the 20 April the Ministry of Health in Guinea has confirmed 208 clinical cases, including 136 deaths in two separate areas in the country. In light of the disease and knowing how much traffic and movement of people we bring to the country (and many other things), the decision was made that the ship would not return immediately to Guinea, but instead head to the country of Benin. This change in decision has caused all sorts of reactions from crew members. Some crew are rejoicing at returning to their home country or near to their home country, others deciding to end their time with Mercy Ships early and not return for the next outreach since all hopes of seeing patients from 2012-13 outreach have disappeared before their very eyes. I am disappointed not to be returning to Guinea to see my friends living there and the many patients that I loved and cared for over the 10 months that we lived there. Please continue to pray for them as they contain this disease and their hopes for our arrival are dashed.
Benin was the country where my journey with Mercy Ships began back in 2009. When I think back to that time in 2009 it feels like another life time. I feel like I hardly remember who I was back then.

The M/V Africa Mercy docked in Benin 2009

Have I aged?

Between now and arriving in Benin I have a million things in front of me. There are several goodbye projects in the making, heartfelt words to be poured out on paper, captured memories to be printed and arranged, possessions to be organised and packed and a time-out holiday and visiting far away friends to be planned and arrangements to arrive home to Australia. I'll actually be back in Australia for almost three months, the longest time period since leaving in December 2010.

But for now the road ahead is downhill, not easy, but increasing speed, unable to be slowed and I'm already so tired. Please pray for me and those serving here with me. Pray for divine strength and energy for the last weeks. I want to give out and love to the very end of our time in Congo, to show our patients and Day Crew that we love and value them and what they have taught us over the last 10 months. I want to run to the end of this race in Congo and finish strong and not half-hearted.

Egg Sandwiches

A wave of humid, hot air hits us, as we open the deck 5 door to the gangway, greet our Nepalese Gurkha, scan our badge out and begin our adventure. The sun beats down upon our neck and bare shoulders, asking for a sunburn at this midday hour. Sweat immediately begins to form droplets that drip and dribble down the body, but it is all worth it for the reward we know is coming.

A discovery for us on the streets of Pointe Noire this outreach, were egg sandwiches, made freshly in front of our noses. My friend Stacia is particularly fond of them and it's inevitable that on a morning or day off together, we'll walk the hot 25 minutes through the port and up the street to our friend Adelaide's egg sandwich stand.

Here's how they're made.

 

 

 

And there you have it! Our favourite lunch!!

Her Strength

Perhaps some of you are wondering what has happened to my beloved patient Angelique. Her story began here. When we first met her she looked emaciated and like we were her very last hope.

Sometimes our patients here are quite complicated. Angelique was one of them. Since we met her in December she has had three surgeries, each time removing tumour growing in the space where her cheek bone was and each time the pathologist has reported that the tumour has been something different, rather unidentifiable or non-specific.

No matter what the results have been, eventually we saw Angelique begin to thrive, thanks to your prayers! She has put on a good amount of weight and looks healthy. She is lively and energetic. She is taking care of her three year old son again (one son stills lives in the village they came from) and able to live without her mother’s constant help. The day crew in the ward love to sit and have a joke with her and comment on how funny she is! She giggles and laughs out loud frequently, which thrills me.

During her last admission, I would look at her laying on her bed, knowing how far she’s come and feel my heart catch in my throat threating tears of joy to spill over. God is so good.

I said from the very beginning of Angelique’s admission, that before the ship sails away I wanted to see her hair, that was whispy, brown and barely growing, so thick in tight, black curls that she’d be able to have it braided and a weave put in.  Her hair is growing now and when I sat with her on deck 7 one afternoon last week, I tried to put her new curls in a braid. It was a little too short still, but it’s so much thicker than it was- well on the way to a weave!

I don’t know what the rest of Angelique’s life looks like, whether the tumour will ever grow back or if she’ll stay healthy, but it’s not up to me, nor Mercy Ships to make sure. We have done what we can while she’s been with us. We have loved her, cherished her, encouraged her, prayed for her and more. In return we have be blessed by her and her strength to stand against such odds, to fight for her life, to not give up but to push forward. Many days she would join u at our 2pm prayer time in the ward, standing by us as we prayed for her and the others recovering on the ward. Little does she know but she has changed each one of our lives by her strength to not give up.

photo taken before her last surgery.

Market Day

My friend Stacia and I love our market trip days and so when the last schedule came out we compared our days off and set the day- Wednesday.
After a leisurely morning on board, we lathered up with sunscreen and headed out to the hot, sunny streets of Pointe Noire, full water bottles in hand.
1.5km is the walk to exit the port, complete with container trucks jamming up the traffic, cars trying squeeze past and kicking up the dust which stuck to the sweat beading on ours faces.
Once out of the port we made our way to the buses which are minivans with the comfy seats torn out and replaced with more bench seats. Bus number 1 takes us to the market for only 150 CFA (34c AUD). The sun shone in the window browning my arm, forming droplets of sweat on my arms too numerous to be counted. Stacia pointed out cockroaches to our left crawling over the van interior and then to our right coming out of the bag of rice sitting on the lap of the man squashed next to her. She watched their every move, not knowing if they were crawling down her legs or if that was indeed sweat dribbling. 

We hopped out at the market, greeted by a mixture of smells, a flurry of people and traffic and tripping of my feet by the rubbish lining the streets. Stacia and I looked at each other, smiles ear to ear, Here we are!!
We began to wander the streets in search of a few things, an African dress for everyday wear, watches for work since both ours have broken in the past two weeks, and TOMS shoes, which can be found if you can make the right friends.
I always end up buying something at the market that I didn't intend to and today was no exception! I found some beautiful fabric which I bought, a new pair of earrings and then we persevered with our pursuit of the TOMS shoes. You know TOMS? They give a pair of shoes to "a child in need" for every pair bought. Well if you search in the right places you can find them in these nations- whether they are the free pair given or not, we decided the money we pay for them will probably last longer than a free pair of shoes that aren't waterproof and don't wear and tear well. (To buy a pair of flip flops here is only $1 and are truly much more suited to this life.)
So we met some guys in the shop where I bought the fabric that spoke English very well. He asked where I was from, Australia, and he replied that he had Australian currency. Show me, was my response. He pulled out of a secret place behind the counter a big folded stack of notes from all over the world, South Africa, Canada, USA, Britain, Europe, Switzerland, Australia and many other nations. The Australian note was a current $50! Most of the notes were a high amount! I told him that was all worth a lot and he'd better keep it very safe!! Who knows where it came from!?!
Since they spoke English we told them we wanted to find TOMS and they told us to follow one of them. We went into one store and we showed the iPhone photo of the shoe and they spoke together and then we went into the next store and spoke again. One of the men there thought he knew where to find them so we followed him, weaving through stalls packed side by side, dodging cars, women with babies on their backs, men selling carry bags, sunglasses, clothes, stepping over drains and puddles, turning a corner, walking down another street and into a third shop. There the man explained what we were after. We pulled out the iPhone, showed the picture, the men started discussing it and then they told us to have a seat on the bench in the store and two of the guys went off to find them. (This is how it always goes- we sit and wait while they find what we want in the colour and size and then they give us a price which I'm sure includes a commission for them.) So we sat and waited and talked in the limited French that we knew and the limited English that they knew. Soon enough the two guys came back with three pairs of TOMS in different sizes and colours. Pretty ones!! We picked the ones we wanted and sent them back for the correct sizes (they refused to let us just go with them). Then to discuss the price, well, we all know it's a battle. I don't mind a good haggle and the two of us did a good job and got them for a fair price.
On to the next thing, exploring all colours and shapes of wares spread before us on the streets. Our stomachs rumbled and a few minutes later a man came along, rolling his cart of fresh doughnuts, (no holes in these ones) the perfect snack to fill our empty tummies. We picked up an avocado and continued out of the market and down to road to a Lebanese supermarket and bought Za'atar (Middle Eastern herb mix on a freshly made pita bread) Made fresh and steaming hot, we sat on the step at the front of their shop and enjoyed this new flavour and yummy lunch!!
A taxi ride away we went to Grand Cafe 2 and sat to let our sweat finally dry. After a very sweet milky frappuccino, one FaceTime conversation and a little book reading, we'd saturated our appetites for the outdoors. So we jumped in a number 1 bus back to the port. The reaction from the driver and money collector was as though they'd never had white women in their bus. They laughed and chatted and carried on for the entire journey including calling out to men on the street that they had two white women in the front. We tried to communicate but I have such limited French that we didn't do too well. He asked me out for a meal though, which I politely refused ;)
Dropped off once again at the port with another scorching 1.5km walk ahead of us, this is the time we begin praying for a vehicle to come along and pick us up before we melt into a drain and are never seen again. Thankfully we were able to hitch a ride to the ship, very thankful for the air conditioning inside the van.

Once again back home, we cherish both our comfortable living on board the ship, with its air con and many other comforts from home but also these epic, hilarious market days that reconnect me with so many things I love about Africa.