Missionaries, Glorious Missionaries

Once upon a time there was a girl named Helen who failed miserably at keeping up with her blog. So she decided one day to write 4 blog posts, put them all up at once, and pretend that she had simply forgotten to put the link up on Facebook for 3 of the posts. And she did. And it was devilishly clever and no one ever suspected she really hadn’t written a blog post in 3 months. The end.

Whew, now that I’ve sneakily diverted you all, allow me to tell you about missionaries. They’re pretty much the biggest heroes ever.

I have a confession to make. I used to think missionaries were lame. I know, horrible, horrible, vile, nasty, awful, person. I am thoroughly ashamed of myself and formally apologize to every missionary ever. You are all wonderful marvelous, brave, tough, brilliant, dear, sacrificing people and I don’t deserve to be in your club.

 So yeah, missionaries. I would like to present you all with just a little of the really tough stuff missionaries do all the time. But I would like to do this without making you think I’m some kind of saint. I’m here for one year people, the rest of the forward unit is here longer. I am a wuss. I complain about this stuff all the time. I would never choose this for myself like other missionaries ever have. Ok, so do not apply this to me but apply it to all the other missionaries who you run into.

Why Missionaries are the Bosssest Bosses this side of the nut house:

1.       They live in another country. Ok, so traveling the world is romanticized a great deal these days and indeed it is cool. But living in a country and traveling around a country are two astronomically different things. When you LIVE in a different country from the one you are raised in, you have to get visas and driver’s license, and work permits, and buy a car, and move stuff, and make connections, and learn languages, and all sorts of other crazy stuff.

2.       The culture is different. This means you have to work with things that seem absolutely nuts to you that are normal in the new country. And you have to deal with people thinking you’re nuts for doing normal things. You have to be conscious of what the nationals will be expecting and try to provide it. You have to figure out how to host company and buy things and greet people and go to church.

3.       Sometimes you get a lot more attention then you wanted. Nationals stare at you, take sneaky pictures of you, mess with your hair, laugh at your weirdness, etc. Sometimes it makes you feel famous, sometimes it makes you overwhelmed, sometimes you don’t notice it.

4.       Missionaries are far away from home. They miss stuff. They watch their kids have different lives than they had. Weddings, Reunions, Christmases, Family emergencies, friend emergencies….it’s rough to try to keep up with all the people back home without feeling so isolated. It’s sad to not be able to be there for people you love and have to send apologies again. Skype, email, phones, Facebook, all these things have made it easier to stay in touch with people but it’s still hard to be the one who isn’t there.

5.       Your children have a convoluted sense of home. They don’t fully belong in any one place. You have to drop them off at college and then go back to your field. It’s rough!

6.       Transition and change are always present. You finally adjust to your field and then it’s time for furlough. Sometimes you change fields, countries, or agencies. Then you have to re learn everything. And when you finally retire, you lose a great deal of identity by finally having a “normal” life.

7.       Most people don’t really understand. Like me, when I thought missionaries were weird people with old clothes and crazy pictures. You have so many skills most people won’t ever see. You know so much about a place few others do. Very, very, very, few people understand why you would miss a third world country when you are living in the US. It’s hard to not be understood.

So I would like to encourage all you missionaries. You guys are warriors. You are my heroes. You are worthy of respect. Thank you for doing the hard thing to improve lives, save souls, and obey Jesus. You are the farthest thing from lame. You are amazing, strong, inspiring people. I am honored to know you.

And to all you people who aren’t missionaries. Be encouraging. Try to understand. Love on your missionaries. Hug them. Tell them you respect them. Because they are awe inspiring and they do so many hard things that no one will ever know about.

End rant J
Love you guys!
<3
Helen

A Wee Thoughtlet or Two

Americans are busy. We do many things, we plan many things, we talk about how many things we do. It is completely normal and even encouraged.

I’m not busy. I wake up, and drink coffee, and do my school, and sometimes go wander around the hospital, and write stuff. Woo hoo. We go to church on Sunday for several hours, and sometimes to the grocery store an hour away and occasionally to a missionary meeting or something in a different part of Kenya. It’s really different from when I used to go to KEYS 2 days a week, the community college 4 days a week, youth group, venture crew, soccer, church, bible study, hangouts with friends. I used to drive somewhere every day. Usually several somewheres.

So, Helen not being busy and Helen being an introvert means Helen delves into her deepest soul and starts sorting herself out. I think it’s something every person should do! Most people, I have noticed, have a hard time talking about themselves, or even knowing who they are. This coming from someone who collects pieces of other people to add to myself. I’ve learned why I can read a book in an hour but procrastinate on writing an essay. I know why war movies or discussions about soldiers, combat, etc. make me so tense. I’ve decided that I’m a half-nerd. All these things I’ve learned because I’ve had time to get to know myself. It’s awesome!

Of course, being with my family pretty much all the time and not much interaction with other American teenagers has been weird. So when we went to a retreat/meeting for WGM (December Retreat is called Turi) I was kinda nervous. There were going to be 3 other teens at Turi. (Introvert Helen gets uneasy) They all grew up together and go to the same boarding school. ( Helen starts dreading Turi). I was supposed to be social and teenagerlike (Uh oh, what if I don’t know how to teenager any more?) So after Helen works herself up into a completely ridiculous state she realizes, psh, I’m Helen. I know myself. And as long as I stay myself I don’t need to be worried about whether the other kids will like me or not.

Turns out we had a great time and Abby, David, and Joel are awesome. So yeah. People, know who you are. It makes most everything so much more fun. Plus, if you’re friends with yourself, you’ll always have someone to talk to!

Right, so that’s what I learned this week.

Have a good one everyone!
<3
Helen 

In Which Chaos is Defined

Ladies and Gentlemen, I bring you, a move across Kenya.

Allow me to add some backstage comments. The overview of the trip was supposed to go like this. Truck arrives at 8 a.m. on Monday. We load and head to stop one: Kericho where WGM stored some furniture for us. After we loaded Kericho stuff we would drive about 4 hours to Nakuru. Some WGM directors live there and offered us their house for the night. They have “the fastest internet in Kenya,” which I was going to utilize for a skype interview with Wheaton College that night. Then Tuesday we were going to load up some stuff from Nakuru and the grocery store and finish the drive to Chogoria. Sounds like a solid plan right?

Early on Monday the 21^st of October we arose and finished packing up our stuff. The moving truck was going to arrive at 8 so we had to be ready. We carried all our boxes and luggage down to the Tenwek carport and piled it up. And waited. And wondered where the truck was. And checked our watches. Daddy called someone and found out the truck had left Nairobi at 8 so they would be 4 hours late. I decided to go back to the apartment and finish a college application. Homeschoolers: they tend to do normal stuff in a weird way. 

Then, 4 hours later, the truck hadn’t come. More calls. Apparently they got stuck in ugly traffic. Finally, at 1ish the truck rolled in and we frantically loaded stuff. We went to Kericho and collected all that nonsense, and debated about whether we should try to make it to Nakuru before dark. I was stressing out because I was going to either have to do my phone interview in the car or reschedule it altogether. You all know my family. You know what kind of shenanigans Daddy or James would pull in the middle of the interview. Plus the roads here aren’t exactly smooth so jolting around while trying to sound intelligent and stable and generally worthwhile isn’t ideal.  I rescheduled in the interest of sanity.

We did make it to Nakuru before dark, however, and snagged dinner at a restaurant. Nairobi Java House is essentially the Kenyan Starbucks therefore making it one of the more popular places for Ex-pats to eat. So to Java House we went. Mom shopped for mattresses while we waited for our food. We take multi-tasking to a whole other stratosphere.

Ok, confessions, Tenwek has crummy internet. So for several weeks we were holding the wrong size cable into the laptops to get 2 bars. That does things to people. (whine, whine, whine) So being in Nakuru with amazing internet…….I was up late Monday night.

Tuesday crashed upon us like a crowd surfing fat man. Happily the parents had compassion on the weary children and allowed us to stay at the house while they did another shopping run. Hallelujah.

Finally we hit the final road for Chogoria. It’s a lovely drive, all tea fields, rice fields, mountains, and overloaded motorcycles. We even found a good bathroom stop that has pretty fantastic little pastry things.

We landed in Chogoria around 6. The truck was once again nowhere to be seen. But Dr. Ikunda (The other doctor at the hospital who showed us around last time we came) appeared, unlocked the house and helped us unload the stuff out of our car. Then we went to dinner at a restaurant nearby and talked. We were all rather exhausted. Driving here is essentially composed of playing chicken with semis who are IN YOUR LANE PASSING THE BUS WHO’S GOING TOO SLOW. Thus, one emerges from the car with shot nerves. 

The truck arrived at 8:30 and we unloaded. The two drivers helped and one of the gate guards. We didn’t have the energy to direct it too much so all the stuff was heaped everywhere. We dug out the mattresses, found some sheets and crashed.

Wednesday-Saturday were consumed with assembling beds, sorting furniture, getting the house organized, clean, and hiding the shipping trunks out of sight.

-----I realize this post is all of 3 months late and I’m thoroughly ashamed of myself. Terribly sorry to all who were dying of suspense wondering exactly how our move went. More about the hospital and daily life in Chogoria to come later.-----

Baby Tuesday

WARNING: Gross Doctor Pictures Ahead

I feel like I should explain a few things before I tell you about Baby Tuesday.

1.       I’m the daughter of an ER doc who believes in experiencing things for yourself. He once removed an ingrown toe nail in our kitchen with all of the children present. He taught my organ dissection labs. He has taken us on tours of the Simulation Center and let us mess around on the simulators. Intubating, poisoning, and rescuing the pretend people to our heart’s content. ER docs get some crazy patients, so often at the dinner table he would tell us some truly revolting stories. But I didn’t find them revolting, more like hilarious/ very interesting. I think his efforts to familiarize me with the medical world really helped the past few weeks.

2.       Now let’s talk about scrubs. I know everyone loves them because they’re just like pajamas and super practical and convenient and come in festive patterns. I love them for all of those reasons too. But allow me to add yet another wonderful facet about scrubs. The pants. At Tenwek girls have to wear a longish skirt almost everywhere. This is ok for the most part, but it is highly inconvenient when one is shadowing at the hospital. Mostly because Doctors walk fast and the floors are constantly being cleaned. Wearing a maxi skirt and trying to keep up with doctors and keeping it out of puddles just is not worth it. So when someone lent me a pair of scrubs I was absolutely delighted. Scrubs: feel like pajamas, very handy pockets, come in festive patterns, don’t drag in cleaners or make it hard to keep up with doctors.

3.       At one of our training weeks before we left for Kenya we met the Many family. Mr. Many is a Surgeon and Mrs. Many is an Obstetrician/Gynecologist. They’re from Tennessee and have 2 girls Reese and Mary Taylor. We like the Manys.

4.       Our missions organization has a branch called VIAs. (Yeah, like the instant Starbucks)  They are usually college students who come for a few months to a WGM ministry and help out. Alex is a VIA from Georgia who at language school for a while then she came to Tenwek. She helps out with the kids here and shadows at the hospital. We hang out, workout, rant at the unreasonable attractiveness of actors etc. She’s a huge help to the families here; everybody loves Alex. 

OK, I think we’re ready now.

While we are here at Tenwek I shadow Angela Many on Tuesdays. I love it!  I follow her around during rounds, watch her do surgeries, and hang out in the delivery ward. Great fun! So far I’ve sat in on a C-section (they do a lot of those here), A hysterectomy (removal of a uterus) seen a few babies be delivered, and a few other surgeries. 

The first Tuesday I watched her do a C-section. Tenwek hospital allows students to observe in certain areas of the hospital. So, as long as I keep my mask and surgical cap on and don’t tough anything sterile I can watch the surgeries. Dr. Many is wonderful about explaining what she’s doing and what layer she just cut through and when interesting stuff is about to happen.

The C-section I saw was the patient’s 5^th C-section; all the previous babies were girls which, in Kenya, is disappointing. This lady was praying for a son.

There’s no AC in the hospital so the OR was already a bit warm. They wrapped Dr. Many in a rubber apron, and a warmed gown so she was quite toasty. I was feeling overheated just from the mask I was wearing so I can’t imagine how hot she was.

The whole procedure I found fascinating but won’t describe most of it. First they prayed (The doctors pray when the go on rounds, before they talk to a patient about treatment options, before surgeries or procedures of any kind, etc. I particularly love that about Tenwek.) This baby was a breech baby, so not head down like it should be but feet down instead. So the doctors had a bit of a time getting the head out, but when they did it was amazing. To see internal organs is normal (well normal for me. Come on guys we all took anatomy. We’ve all read the Magic School Bus. Miss Frizzle introduced us to pretty much every organ in existence) but to see among all those normal things a real actual baby! That was amazing. They told her the exciting news that the baby was a boy (!!!! She said she was going to spend the rest of her surgery planning a party), finished sewing her up and then Dr. Many and I went to go check on the baby. His name is Ishmael and he is absolutely precious. The mama is doing fine, baby is fine, daddy is elated J  

Alex and I both shadowed the OB department on Tuesday 2.  We went on rounds, watched a few surgeries, and then sat in the delivery ward and observed.  This observing time yielded some unexpected experiences. Somebody thought I was a doctor and asked me to come help with a lady who had just delivered her baby. I quickly clarified that I have NO medical training whatsoever. (Le scrubs were a bit misleading I guessJ)  One lady’s waters broke and she was so startled that she threw her flip flop at Alex. We watched a lady have her 8^th baby and a lady have her first. All in all a marvelous day.

When we got back to the apartment this exchange kinda defined our frame of mind.

Meredith: Hey guys, guess what’s gross.
Helen: Uh James?
Alex: Afterbirth.

Tuesday number 3 Alex and I both learned about fibroids. Apparently, they are non-cancerous tumors that grow on the uterus muscle. In the states they are usually noticed pretty quickly and dealt with. But in Kenya you don’t go to the hospital unless something is seriously wrong. So when we came into the Operating Room I thought the wrong lady was on the table. She looked 5 months pregnant. But, in reality, she had a massive collection of fibroids that were causing all sorts of problems. So we watched as they removed her uterus (which was gigantic). Unfortunately both Alex and I felt pretty unwell and had to go home after that. But next week, hopefully, we’ll make it the whole day J

(Everybody say eeeeeew and then coooooool)

Shout out to Alex for the pictures and Dr. Many for allowing us to follow her around and ask questions. 

Update on Life

Righty Ho, it’s been an embarrassingly long time since I updated you people on what we people are up to. So terribly sorry!

So last Tuesday we took our written final exam, and the next day conquered the oral portion. Needless to say there was some incredible studying going down in Ritchie HQ.

 Thursday was my Birthday (Happy Birthday toooo me!). We loaded a moving truck with half of our stuff to send to Chogoria, and had an interesting lunch and very chill evening. On Friday we finished packing, and loaded the other half of our earthly goods into the back of our new car. Shout out to Daddy who managed to fit an absurd amount of stuff into a single trunk (and 4 people’s laps). We had a 4 hour drive to Tenwek Hospital ahead of us and were quite interested in getting started.

Side Note: Our final destination is Chogoria Hospital. We are visiting Tenwek for a month so Daddy can observe how a Kenyan education program works and get an idea of what kinds of things he’ll be treating. We’ll be at Tenwek until about October 20.

Our final weekend at Language School resulted in an addition to our party. Meredith found a bunny. Its name is Sven, and he is very soft, and calm, and nice. However, he has little to no bladder control. Not exactly an endearing flaw. Rabbits are usually contained in a cage of some sort. Meredith has a cage, but it had to be folded up in order to fit in the car. This left one option. Sven rode in her lap the whole way to Tenwek. She took his fatal flaw into consideration and armed herself with a sheet of plastic and several towels. Sven evaded them all and peed on the seat between James and Meredith, effectively killing to birds with one stone. Helen was amused. James and Meredith were not. 

We made it to Tenwek otherwise unharmed. Wifi passwords were obtained, tours given, and then the meetings commenced. Missionaries have a lot of meetings. This one happened to be one specifically for the WGM missionaries.  I was on child watching duty.

Side Note: Helen has made a discovery. She isn't really a kid person. See, Helen doesn’t really know what to do with them so she treats them like teenagers. It’s weird. And it doesn’t work for most children. Result: most children do not like Helen.

Right, so I was on child watching duty with several other adults (thank goodness). The children were a little cranky on Friday night, but I was too. Long drives with well hydrated rodents do that to me. We had a lively dinner with all the families complete with minute-to-win-it games. Surprising discovery of the evening: I am the master of that wiggle-a-cookie-from-your-forehead-to-your-mouth game.  

Next day was entirely meetings (as in from 9am -7pm). Happily the children were split up that day and another girl and I had the Kindergarten group. Lesson of the day: Never trust two 6 year old girls with neon nail polish. My toes have yet to recover.

Sunday was uneventful.

Monday was an interesting day. Daddy started working at the hospital, Meredith: 8th grade, James : 3rd, Self: 12th 

   

We are all alive and functioning J 

I’ll write more about our experiences here soon.

Thanks for reading guys!
<3
Helen

I Demand Celery

       Upon arriving in country I realized how much we have to relearn. Being a typical newly-licensed teen, I was used to being sent on various errands to pick up whatever ingredient is missing from a recipe, collect small siblings from various locations, etc. etc. In Kenya, I’m not old enough to drive, and I wouldn't want to anyway. (I have a new standard for crazy drivers after watching people maneuver a donkey fight in the middle of an intersection.) Here in language school, where we will be situated until mid-September, we have been learning all manner of interesting things. Some have to do with Swahili, but most don’t. With all this change we find ourselves saying some rather peculiar things. Being the thoughtful, eclectic, person that I am, I have collected a list of a few of these strange sentences.

Meredith (overheard during a road trip in which a new version of “yellow car” was invented) : Donkey!
James: That doesn’t count, it’s a business owned donkey. 

James: OH NOOOOO!
Helen: What?
James: I dropped my chameleon! Toeless, where are you?!
Helen: Um, why is it’s name Toeless?
James: Cuz I…….uh, cuz he lost his toes somehow.

Daddy: Helen, watch out for that aardvark hole.

Helen: Oh Uh Meredith, you stepped in zebra poop.

Ritchie family member assigned to kitchen duty: Can you turn on the shower? I need to wash the dishes.

Mama: Meredith, will you go see if we have any taco sauce in the bathroom?
(our pantry is currently located in the girls’ closet which happens to be in the bathroom.)  

Language Teacher: You must say it like Pentecost!
Language Scholar: Like what?
Language Teacher: Like Pentecost! You must say it so confidently that we think you are drunk!

Language teacher: Dada Helen, Sentensi! (make a sentence with the words we just went over)
Helen: Um, ok. Ninataka figili mwitu.
Language teacher: Ok, you wouldn't say it like that. That’s a rude way. You said, “I demand celery.” You want to use “hitaji” so that you are polite.  

Helen: James! Stop throwing avocadoes! You’re gonna give someone a concussion!

Mama (overheard while calling the egg-seller): Our house is the one on the…….no…no….. We’re the ones next to the trash pit.

 

So there you have it. When we all return to the states we are likely to sound rather weird for a while. Please bear with us and make excuses for us to all those who don’t know us. Like Pentecost! 

See Jane Faceplant

My eldest sister Sarah, as some of you know, is very fond of asking “the question of the day.” Many a conversation has been started, revived, continued, and generally assisted by a properly timed QOTD. One of my favorites is “Which Disney character are you?” I always used to respond with an immediate “Belle, cuz she gets the best library and has a habit of raising her eyebrows.” But, upon revisiting “Tarzan” I have come to the conclusion that I am infinitely more similar to Jane.

             

          Belle always had one major shortcoming; she went to the West Wing. It’s a classic case of “you had one job.” Totally annoys me. Well, that and allowing a sheep to eat a corner of her book. Jane’s major shortcoming is that she is rather awkward. When she first appears in Tarzan she is pushing her way through a bamboo forest armed with a parasol and a sketchbook. Her hair is in her face, she is tripping over everything, and her rather impractical skirt is causing no small difficulty. I so relate to that. 

           Later she gets into a scrape with some baboons and ends up stuck “in a tree with a man who talks to monkeys.” Unfortunately, I can relate to that too.  

                

          Let me tell you, I’m no graceful smooth person. I tend to trip over stuff. And talk too much. And wear the wrong skirt on jungle-exploration day. I guess what I’m trying to say is I don’t have my act together. I’m not likely to ever have my act together. And it gives me hope to see Jane, in all her fumbling hilariousness, thrive in the African Jungle.

               

          Now no one panic, I don’t think my life is going to be like a Disney movie and I have no intentions of marrying a man in a loin cloth. But I do want to be as willing to learn and as open to others (despite fashion and cultural differences) as Jane is.

              

          P.S.  I totally recommend revisiting “Tarzan” if you haven’t seen it in a while. It’s infinitely refreshing to see a lady absolutely clobber a herd of baboons with a yellow lacey parasol.