To know it's heart

Today I wondered how it felt for the local people of Pointe Noire, Congo, as the M/V Africa Mercy put down its gangway and let loose 310 crew members who have just spent the last 14 days at sea. We will be docked here for the next 10 months and today was the first day of exploring this new city that, in the next few months, will become comfortable under our feet.

We sailed into the port of Pointe Noire yesterday morning, around 10am and were met by a large party of people on the dock. There was a tent, the colours of the Congo flag, stretching halfway down the dock and entertaining tables set up and people waving us in. Unlike the other countries we have been to in the last years, this time, the welcome party was thrown by the government officials and within minutes of us mooring our lines and letting down our gangway, the president of Congo arrived. After the official proceedings, he came on board for a quick tour with his entourage.

The President arrives

This country is so excited to have us that they are paying our fuel costs for the entire 10 months that we are here. Now, I hardly understand or know myself how much this ship costs to run, but I remember reading somewhere a few years ago that the fuel alone costs about $200 per hour! This country wants us here so badly that they are willing to pay thousands of dollars for us to be here.

Today was the first time to walk around and explore and see what it is that the Mercy Ships Advance Team have been talking about. I sat with a group of friends this morning, discussing the history of Congo’s politics and wondering how they have managed, unlike so many other African nations, to stay on top of issues that sink other nations, even after a year of civil war (1997). We don’t know what it is but today we saw a difference. The main streets are paved, the traffic system works (one set of working traffic lights and we crossed the road when the man turned from red to green! I’ve never seen that before), the taxis and taxi vans are all painted a certain colour to distinguish them from other vehicles and there are many shops, restaurants, supermarkets, ice-creameries and patisseries, leaving nothing wanting for a price if you are willing to pay.

We walked and we walked and we walked, further and further from the port and into the city. The more roundabouts we passed, the more roads seem to come off the roundabout as options to walk and explore. Finally we took a left turn and eventually found ourselves in a quiet, sandy street. We continued wandering, thinking that eventually someone local was going to think this group of 5 white foreigners are completely lost. We certainly weren’t lost, just exploring. I wanted to see what kind of people made up this city, for so far we had only walked past shop fronts and concrete buildings, telling me nothing about the heart of the city at all. The heart of the city to me are its’ people. So where were they living?

Soon enough a man called to us and then walked through the sandy street to us. Sadly to say, our French language skills are poorly lacking (something to work on) but we managed to communicate enough and he introduced himself to us and we to him. He was happy to meet us, very welcoming and friendly. He showed us his hardware ‘store’ (different from the picture in your mind, I am certain to say, unless you have been here) and introduced us to his friends (including one who spoke English). Immediately, through his generous heart, he handed us some packaged sweet and salty rice snacks and his English speaking friend told us, he knew Mercy Ships had arrived yesterday and that he saw an advertisement on the TV yesterday. They were very happy that we were here and we, more than happy to be here and tickled at this little gathering. We were also excited to hear that word had gotten out and in this back road in a little shop, they already knew who Mercy Ships was.

After a little chat, we asked for directions to the beach and without hesitation the man we first met said he would show us. We bid farewell and enchantè to his friends and walked with our new friend to the main road before he stopped and pointed out the direction for us to walk. This is a perfect example of what it is what makes my heart sing. This is the heart of the African nations that I love.

We stood in a supermarket today, waiting for a friend and while we were standing there a very familiar song began playing over the radio and a smile spread from one ear to the other. I can’t even count the number of times I have heard, sung and danced to ‘Chop My Money’ over the last 2 ½ years but today it fit in just perfectly. I am in a country I have never been to, a place that is unfamiliar in location, dirty, sandy streets that I have never walked, but I already know the song on it’s radio and that it’s people are welcoming and friendly. I can’t wait to know it’s heart.

dirty feet are back!

A Sail with a Twist

This sail to Congo has definitely been different from all other sails that I have been on. Firstly, we began our sail only a couple of days after I arrived back on board in Tenerife, Canary Islands, after being away for 5 ½ weeks. I had left the ship in Gran Canaria, Canary Islands, and said goodbye some of my dearest friends, knowing I would be coming back to a ship life without them. I knew I would still have friends on board, just different ones. It takes some adjusting, finding a new space for yourself, but setting sail for 13 days really tends to help you bond with those you hang out with.

Last day on solid land

Enjoying the tastes of Spain

Goodbye Tenerife!

Hello sailing buddies!

During this sail I have completed Basic Life Support (BLS), Advanced Cardiovascular Life Support (ACLS) and Paediatric Advanced Life Support (PALS). Needless to say, most days I have had my nose in a book studying or sitting in a ‘classroom’ (a rocking and a rolling international lounge) learning and practicing new skills. My brain has been stretched (a very nice feeling) and I have enjoyed acquiring some very useful knowledge. All the while, the ocean, stretching as far as the eye can see and further, has continued churning beneath us and rocking us side to side, but the day goes on. There are things to be done, books to be read, jobs to do and at the end of the day, we find time for facing the wind head-on by standing on the bow, searching for dolphins and whales, counting flying fish and singing praise songs as the sun sets on the water. It is magical.

 

yep, they're whales!

the whales made us all jump out of our hammocks to watch

One night while hanging out with two friends, we were supposed to be studying but ended up chatting and somehow by the end of the conversation, we’d decided to begin a 10 day Detox diet. So, what can you eat? Fruits, vegetables, nuts and drink water. That’s it. That’s all we can have in our already limited supply on board. We decided we’d better begin soon before all the fresh produce on the ship that was stocked up in Tenerife ran out. So far, we have enjoyed a large variety of fruits, plenty of salad, plain vegetables... Well actually that’s not true. We have eaten those things, but perhaps I wouldn’t use the word enjoyed. When I looked at the dinner options tonight and I saw Chicken Cordon Bleu (chicken breast stuffed with mozzarella and bacon and crumbed) and then back at my plate, scattered with green beans and the same salad that I’ve eaten for the last 7 days, my heart sunk. Each day I’m hoping that the fresh produce will have run out, enough for us to call it quits early. So far, no luck. It is truly amazing how much of my satisfaction in life comes from eating good food!!! At the end of my salad meal, I rack my brain, trying to think of what I could find to eat, within my limitations that could satisfy me. Nothing. But somehow the three of us have found the willpower to do this and not give up and I’m proud of that effort!

The most exciting part of the sail to Congo has definitely been sailing over zero degrees latitude & zero degrees longitude! This makes me a Royal Diamond Shellback! And to add excitement and commemorate the event, I, along with two friends, decided to get a piercing so that we will never forget. Haha and we will never forget! After spending an hour or so in a friend’s cabin, time spent with ice on ears and noses (not mine Mum), IV needles piercing holes and earrings and nose studs being pushed through, the group of us had bonded forever!

Jay with his victims. (I had the smoothest piercing- lucky me)

After the piercing party, we went up to deck 7 as the captain spoke through the overhead speakers that we were seconds away from crossing 0.00, 0.00. We had photos taken with nothing but darkness in the background. Nothing to see, but the memory of knowing where we had sailed and three of us have holes to prove it!

Photo by Josh Callow

Art by Josh Callow

And we sail onwards. Congo is only days away and so much more adventure awaits.

Life long friends

The days at home disappeared quickly, with wonderful coffee dates, catch-ups and towards the end I even felt like I could possibly just slip back into life there without too much strife. Eventually I got used to the cold weather, or perhaps I got used to wearing so many more layers than I was used to, but I enjoyed the sunshine and the fresh breeze outside.

In the second last week at home my Grandma passed away and so Mum and Dad headed over to New Zealand for the funeral and all the things that need to be dealt with at the passing of a family member. I was so glad I’d had the opportunity to see Grandma and say goodbye to her. Our visit there was truly timed by God!

During the week that my parents were away I had planned to spend a week at my friend’s house while her husband was away, to help look after her two little girls and to spend time with her. I have been close with this friend since we were at university, single and free and happiest when sitting in the sunshine drinking hot water and chatting, than anywhere else.

 

Fun times traveling together in Croatia 2008

London 2008

First of all, she and her wonderful husband were married while I was on the Africa Mercy in 2009 and I flew home for 5 days to be a part of their wedding celebrations. I loved that special time with her and even though we were miles apart, we still managed to connect fairly regularly, never losing our strong bond of friendship.

After I returned home for 12 months, our friendship had moved from first confidant to second after her husband and that took some getting used to, but I understood why. The hard thing was, I hadn’t changed and could still offer the same friendship, but her’s had changed. Maybe you have experienced that too in your friendships. As time moves on and some friends marry, you can be over the moon happy for them, but it does mean a change in friendship, which is something to get used to.

The following year after I had returned home and settled in, they fell pregnant and of course with that came so much excitement, but another change. I was heading to the ship for another year (which quickly became two years and now it’s almost undetermined because it’s already been 2 ½ and I’m still here!) and facing the challenges of leaving my safe spot and the two of them were facing a lifetime of parenthood and the joys and challenges that children bring. We faced two opposite life-changing seasons, which could have been the separating of us, but it wasn’t.

I left for the ship 6 weeks after her little girl was born and although I was excited for my adventures, I was so sad for all those moments I would miss out on, not being around this beautiful baby whom I already loved.

 

6 weeks old

Since I’ve been on the ship another beautiful baby girl was born to their family and all my ship friends knew about it. I told everyone when I knew she was in labour and then waited impatiently for the birth news and then showed the newborn photos to anyone who would look. I am a very proud non-family-member aunty!

So, after all this time, I was able to live in their house, sleeping on the bunk bed above the oldest. I soaked in the presence of these delightful girls. Their individual looks and personalities, sparkling in their home environment. They were not always their sparkliest, but they were quick to bounce back. I loved the cuddles and kisses, craft time and sandpit time, story and play time. I loved hearing the giggles and laughter, the interactions between mummy and daughters. I loved the words and sentences used by this adorable almost 3 year old. While mum was out one day with the youngest, I ate lunch with the other, got ready for nap time and read her a story before tucking her in. Her sweet little face and soft lips kissed my cheek, hands wrapped around my neck, as I said, have a nice sleep. She lay quietly, obediently, as she’d learnt, to rest. I walked out of her bedroom, with a melted heart, after nothing life-changing had been said, just simple actions had shown me love.

Each day was full of routine and I learnt how to help out my friend, doing whatever she needed and when the children were sleeping we chatted, covering every subject known to man, from the light-hearted to the deepest places.

When the week came to an end, I walked away wanting more, with a thirst for that life more than ever before. I wish desperately that I didn’t live so far away because I miss out on seeing the girls grow up and loving them through every stage. I have loved many babies and children as they have grown up, but to be so close to a dear friend’s children and to hear them call your name a thousand times a day asking you to play with them and spend time with them and wondering where you have gone to when you’re not there. It filled my heart with a special love that I have never known, until now. I will treasure those memories and tuck them away safely, because now I’m back on the ship and already sailing to Congo, for new adventures.

Some thoughts from home

When did it become that my original home no longer feels like home?
I have returned home to Australia for five weeks to be at rest and visit with friends and family. It is always a little bit of a strange feeling returning to a place so familiar after being away, feeling changed yourself and seeing others have changed too, enough so that you're not sure where you'll fit in again.

The first few days I struggled with how freezing cold it was and so I wanted to stay home, not only because of the cold but also because I didn't know where I fit anymore. Although things on the ship are always changing and friends come and go (whether we desperately wish they would stay or not), I know where my place is. I've lived in the same four-berth cabin and slept in the same bed for the last 2 1/2 years. I have a few long term friends and it’s comforting to know they are also still there throughout the seasons. So the thing that puts me out of place here, is that I've been away from my comfortable spot for long enough that it has gone. My closest friend here is happily married with two adorable children and successfully runs a household and I have never even lived out of home or had to cook for myself longer than one month! I look around here and see the marriages and babies, nice homes and cars and wonder what to do with all that. I am glad, so glad, for my friends who are happily married and raising their families. For a fleeting second, part of me wishes I was them before I realise, I just have a different road to walk. My journey is different, so different from how I thought my life would turn out. Like a lot a friends I know, I thought 21 years old would be a nice age to get married and settle down. Now I think back to when I was 21 and am so glad there was no one for me to marry! I wouldn't swap my life for anyone else's because I love it and I know that God has the perfect plan for me, whatever the future holds. I would love to be married and walk this exciting life journey with a partner for life and raise children with him, but I have to wait to see that fulfilled later.
 
But back here in this place I call home, I see the price of a new shirt and compare it to African money and suddenly I'm unwilling to pay that amount for another piece of clothing that I don't really need. I see a mosquito and I think, did I take my malaria medication? Before I realise where I am. Or I see a baby and look for pierced ears to see whether it’s a girl or a boy, before I realise it's not the culture here.

Coming back to Australia, the weather itself was a shock, as I have not had a winter (as mild as it is here in south-east Queensland) for three years. I have never really liked cold weather, unless it results in snow and then I will gladly face it. So I spent the first week covered in the layers of my only winter clothes and some days, my pyjamas and soft bathrobe, always with my pink fluffy slippers adorning my feet. At night I would make sure my electric blanket had been on for a good while before slipping into the toasty warm covers, tucking them up around my face and snuggling down for the night.

Thankfully over the last couple of weeks the temperature has warmed and the sun has shone brightly, warming up the ground. One weekend my family and I ventured out to the park for a BBQ and soaked in the sunshine, enjoying the red and yellow leaves still hanging tightly onto the branches of the trees. It has been a long time since I've been around for autumn. I can't remember particularly noticing the colour changes in the leaves or the change of the season before I left for Africa, but I have definitely noticed the big deal my American friends make over the season of fall. We have a Fall Festival on the ship and everyone talks about how much they miss the colour-changing leaves and pumpkin spice lattes and everything to do with fall. I didn't share their enthusiasm because my home town doesn't really change that dramatically so it was never really a big deal. But this weekend, I enjoyed staring up at the big, blue sky, watching the clouds blow by and seeing the sunlight twinkle through the sparse red leaves and the wind daring the smaller yellow ones to jump right off their branch and onto our picnic blanket.

 

 

I have found myself a few times in these past weeks completely alone. This is such a rare thing that in previous times I would have turned on music or organised to meet up with a friend, but this time, I sit and enjoy the silence. There is no hum of generator or air conditioning ringing in my ears, instead I can hear the birds outside in the garden. Today one of them flew right into the window in front of me, leaving a few feathers stuck to the window and my heart racing twice as fast. I got off the couch to check if he was on the ground, but he'd already flown away.

The bird print on the window

At night though, my ears ring in the deafening silence. You know the ringing after a music concert? It's what I hear every night (although maybe not as loud) from the missing generator and air conditioning noise, perhaps there's damage from other things too, but I know at least the generator drowns it out normally. Perhaps all I need is time to adjust.
 

My time here so far has balanced between catching up with family, visiting with friends and happily sitting at home, on the couch, basking in the winter sunshine streaming through the windows.

I enjoyed a quick trip to New Zealand to visit my Grandma, whose health has been failing for a year now. She is 95 years old now and lived on her own up until one year ago. She had been in a low care nursing home when Mum, Dad and I had gone to visit. She was sitting up in her lounge chair the mornings we went, happily included in conversation, but not having the mental strength to follow all thought processes. She looked tired. We didn’t know how long it would be before she’d pass away, as the previous three weeks she’d begun to decline in strength. So we said our goodbyes, telling her we’d next see her in heaven. And last night we heard, that’s where she’s gone. Goodbye Grandma, see you in heaven.

There is a little time left here now. More coffees to be drunk with people I love, while chatting about everything under the sun. More little ones to love, squeeze and kiss before they are all grown up. More love to be spread, because that is what life boils down to.