a month later

The queries of "How was your trip?" have faded, but the memories have not. I intended to blog about that question, as I found it extremely hard to answer. My response varied from "great" to "okay" to what it ultimately was for a short and quick answer: "there were highs and lows but it was a worthwhile trip". The longer answer was filled with backtracks and competing thoughts as I wrestled with much of my time in Congo.

The orphanage continues to be an amazing memory. As you may remember, part of the reason I went to Congo was to look at the feasibility of doing a child sponsorship program. It looks like it is going to happen! Get ready for Tumaini, which we hope to have as a 501c3 that will work with this orphanage and (potentially) extend to do other things in eastern Congo. I'll update when there is more information, but I'm really excited to be part of what's ahead. The kids want to be loved and the odds of them all being adopted is extremely low. If I haven't already mentioned it, formula costs ~$80/month for one child. Given that the "average" salary is $5/day, it's nigh on impossible to support multiple babies in this setting without external support. But there was joy at Kaziba and...sigh...it just makes me happy to think of them.

The adult group continues to be unsettling. At the end of the day it comes to this: the people I saw had more basic needs than physical therapy. So even though I was only prepared as a therapist, they saw a white person with resources. And if physical therapy could change their situation, great, but what the really wanted and needed was someone to provide basic necessities to give them hope for the future. I don't fault them for asking for money, etc., given their circumstances, but I just wasn't emotionally prepared for that.

I finally got a couple of pictures up and am still in the process of getting pics off my camera (I ran out of memory space on my computer--oops). Then, really, I might lay this blog to rest until I can give more info re: Tumaini. So, if anyone is still reading, here's how it feels a month+ later.

a drop in the bucket

I met with the disabled adults' group yesterday. To be perfectly honest, it was a challenging day. It wasn't the time spent: I actually spent less time than I had anticipated. It wasn't the pace: I had given up on the 12 minutes/person and spent as much time as I needed to get at least one or two exercises for each person. And it wasn't the complete change of what therapy looked like: I was ok with making my focus narrower and recognizing that the situation was going to look different than my practice in the USA. What was challenging was two-fold: 1. There were some differences in expectations in what I could provide, despite having had multiple conversations with the man in charge of it all, which led to some frustration for some of the people present. 2. The need was immense, and I felt like what I was doing was a mere drop in the bucket. I came home somewhat discouraged, even though I knew it might feel overwhelming.

But today we visited Harikwetu, a Catholic run rehabilitation center here in Bukavu. It is an impressive place which has many resources, from prosthetic limbs to a sewing training center for the disabled. When we walked in nearly the first person I saw was a woman whose son I had seen yesterday. She had brought her son back to remove his casts (he had four of them; two on his forearms and two on his legs). I had told her yesterday that they shouldn't stay on forever; she had been concerned that if she didn't have money for the next round of treatment that she should keep them. As it was he had sores on his feet since the skin had been touching the cast for quite some time. So maybe, just maybe, a drop in the bucket can do something.

I'll go back again tomorrow. Your prayers for all involved are appreciated. I'm hoping to get some pictures of a few of the people there, but am still trying to figure out how people feel about that.