rain rain go away

Rainy season is allllllmost done and I have to say, I’m looking forward to some dryness in my life again. I used to really love rainy season – the beautiful skies,  pitter patter of rain drops on rooftops, an excuse to exfoliate my feet in mud. 

But with a baby, it has gotten a little stressful at times. We wash diapers daily and hang them to dry, but with the air (inside and out!) being so damp and wet, we’ve had a hard time getting things clean and useable in a timely fashion! I started a rotational system of drying on the line outside, then into the house to dry some more, then into the tubs again. 

I try really hard to let her clothes sit in a dark, fully dry space for three days to make sure that no bot fly eggs are able to thrive. These nasty little creatures lay eggs on wet clothing and then those eggs get into your skin and hatch little worms and its just gross. I’ve dealt with these things myself and I really don’t want to have to excavate any wiggly worms out of my porceline skin child! Leaving the clothes to dry for several days was only a problem once or twice as we literally ran out of anything clean/dry! But I want to say thank you to everyone who helped stock us with an obscene amount of cloth diapers and covers. You have made rainy season possible, bot-fly-free and rather cute and happy. 

Reflections on malaria

Two weeks ago now, Bronwyn came down with  malaria for the first time. She began with vomiting and we thought she just had some kind of stomach bug. I think I changed my clothes 12 times in 3 days as Bronwyn managed to bury her face in my chest 2 seconds before every projectile vomit. (It’s a good thing I love her more than myself. We both smelled pretty rank by the end.) We monitored the vomiting and focused on keeping her hydrated. We weren’t terribly worried until she spiked a fever, and that’s when we decided to get her a malaria test.

We drove into town to take her to a clinic with a lab so that they could look at the parasite count under a microscope. Whenever Jeremy or I get tested for malaria at our local clinic, we question the diagnosis - probably due to the fact that they tell us we have malaria even when the test comes back negative. With a finger prick and a blood slide, the lab techs were able to confirm that there were indeed little parasites floating around inside my darling daughter’s body, making her feel all kinds of crummy. 

We got her medicine and brought her home. After several pitiful attempts of getting her to swallow it without spitting it out or puking it up, we called in the reinforcements: two Mwewa’s a Chama and a Moze – a group of funny boys who soothed Bronwyn’s aching heart with side splitting laughter. Three days of meds and Baby B was back in working order!

I’ve thought a lot about her sickness this week. Before we came to Zambia, I told people that my number one fear was that Bronwyn would get sick. It’s true that Malaria kills thousands of Zambian kids every year. It’s true that it’s a nasty disease and needs to be taken seriously. But at the same time, there is something in my heart that keeps prompting me to not live in fear. I’ve been challenged in the last nine months to reevaluate my belief that Bronwyn would be safer if we moved elsewhere. It is true that there is no malaria in New York and fewer dangerous snakes and less giardia and other intestinal yuckies. But isn’t “safer” a relative term? Has my American-ness and my (relative) trust in US doctors swayed my emotions to hope in things that I shouldn't? Have I given way to misplaced fear based on factors that I think I should be able to control?

The truth of the matter, and that which has sunk deep into my heart in the last few weeks and months, is that no harm will befall my daughter without the Lord allowing it. Regardless of location, our God is still the same. If a holy God sees it fitting to let my baby fall ill or even to take this precious one home, it does not matter whether we live in Fimpulu, Zambia or Ithaca, New York. The decision is His and I must trust its perfection.

I often sing to Bronwyn the song “Trust and obey, for there’s no other way, to be happy in Jesus, than to trust and obey.”

We tenaciously do all we know to do... and we trust. We obediently live in the bush, even during malaria season. We obediently use the wisdom God has given us to act wisely, sleeping under nets and screening for parasites and giving medicine. And we trust wholeheartedly that our very lives are held in the hands of our all-wise, all-good, sovereign Father. 

Is God then not the Lord of life and death? He is. None lives and none dies but by God’s sovereign decree. “See now that I, even I, am he, and there is no god beside me; I kill and I make alive; I wound and I heal; and there is none that can deliver out of my hand.” (Deuteronomy 32:39)

“He does according to his will among the host of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth; and none can stay his hand or say to him, ‘What have you done?’” (Daniel 4:35)

He declares “the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose.’” (Isaiah 46:10)

“Who has spoken and it came to pass, unless the Lord has commanded it? Is it not from the mouth of the Most High that good and bad come?” (Lamentations 3:37-38; see Amos 3:6)

“Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand.” (Proverbs 19:21; see 16:9)

Therefore, “if God is for us, who can be against us? . . .Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, ‘For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.’ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us” (Romans 8:31-37).

These are hard words for a non-believer but oh what security for the Christian! We will continue to keep doing everything we know to do to keep our precious little one healthy and safe. However, if she is ever taken from us, for whatever reason, we will not “blame” the disease, or grumble against Africa, or run “home” where it is “safe,” but instead we will trust in the name of the Lord our God.

par-tay

We are pleased to extend to all our friends an invitation to Bronwyn's first b-day party!

Hopefully the invite explains it all, but if you have any questions, let me know. We've been thinking about this birthday for a long time. Birthdays for children and adults alike are really not celebrated in the village. Most children do not know when their birthdays are, and when I ask their parents, they almost always have to look at the child's under-5 card to remember. We want to help people see what it looks like to thank God for the gift of children, and celebrate each life individually. We told some of our high school students about American birthday traditions, and after hearing about all the present giving that goes on, the students told their friends that they would be Americans on their birthdays henceforth. Not wanting gift giving to be the central focus of celebrating Bronwyn's first year, we opted for a slightly less conventional party plan. Zambians love singing, dancing and performing, and we have a suspicious that this "program" will help communicate the specialness of a birthday without the fixation on material gift giving.

We think it will be a lot of fun and hopefully many of you will be able to participate!

11 months

Every single month I think, "I'm sure she looks the same as last month... maybe she even shrunk a little!" and then I take her picture and put it next to the others and am amazed. 

Little lady, you are such a darling! Happy 11 months!

silly bands

We were talking with a friend recently who told us that global health folks have decided to add the letter “D” to the famous ABC’s of HIV prevention. For those not up-to-date on the HIV/AIDS lingo, A stands for “Abstinence”, B for “Be faithful” and C for “Condoms”. And so now the letter D is being introduced, standing for “Delayed sexual debut.” It seems that finally the world is recognizing (finally) that by the time most young people (or really most young adults) hear about ABC’s and start thinking about the consequences of premarital/unprotected sex, they have already begun engaging in risky behaviors. Children are exposed to adult themes so early in this culture. We have had, on multiple occasions, children as young as 3 playing “house” in our front yard… and, with pants down, trying to mimic mommy and daddy’s lovey dovey action. We often feel like little kids, especially girls, are asked to grow up too fast.

Our friend Mwape gave birth last week. Mwape failed out of 9^th grade this past year and was pregnant a few months later. She has always looked youthful and vibrant, but now with a tiny baby, she looks, I don’t know… worn? Depressed? Aloof? Some of that is probably a little PPD. The fact that she is still drawing her own water and cooking all of her own food doesn’t help. Her equally young baby daddy is not exactly the most empathetic character out there.

Anyway, my point is that we really love these little girls around us and we want to see them stay little for as long as possible. So yes please! Add the D! Delay sex until the time is right kiddos!

And until then… Have a silly band!

It is really common for girls to wear condom rings on their wrists as bracelets. I don’t know where they get them. I assume out of someone’s trash pit which is just… gross. 

the condom bracelet

For any girl I see with a condom bracelet, I make a deal with her. Ditch the condom and I’ll give you a much more exciting silly band! I can’t change all of the sexual mores in the village, but I can perhaps swap one adult theme for a more age appropriate one. Does this make a big difference? Who knows. But the girls feel special and important, and they don’t wear tattered rubber with dried semen on their wrists and I think that’s great! 

silly girls, silly bands

girl power!

(not so) single mama

Last week I had a three day stint as a “single mother.” Jeremy went to Lusaka to pick up chickens and since I was busy with a Home Based Care program, I decided to stay in the village. I don’t think I realized how much of a routine Jeremy and I had established together. I watch Bronwyn while Jeremy does ABC, he watches her while I do XYZ. As harried and random as I feel most of the time, it finally occurred to me that we actually have figured a few things out. So Jeremy’s leaving for 3 full days meant that a serious wrench was thrown into my daily functioning! The first night, I called Jeremy and said, “I haven’t eaten dinner, and its getting dark, and Bronwyn’s asleep, but I haven’t closed up the house, and I don’t know how to do any of this by myself! GAH!” (Yes, I minored in melodrama at Cornell). I got better by day two, and was on my way to fabulous by day three (brazier top eggplant parm anyone?) just in time to receive Jeremy back home, give that boy a smooch and tell him how much I need him.

Jeremy, Bronwyn and Precious

I know that there are many, many actual single mothers out there who are well adjusted and have happy, healthy children. I’m sure that if I were to find myself in a single-mother situation for a longer period of time, I too would figure out how to make it work.

But being alone and without my helper made me actually think a lot about the women around me who are, in many ways, single mothers. Culturally, it is the woman’s job to care for the children and the home. All cooking, washing, feeding, bathing, sweeping, educating etc. falls on the shoulders of the hard-working women of the village. Their husbands come back from the field/friends/bars and expect supper and entertainment from a brood of already cared for children. There is little to no collaboration amongst spouses. No joint decision making. He does his jobs, she does hers. Equity is not highly valued. The foreign brought “women’s rights” movement has meant that women have the “right” to do all of the man’s jobs in addition to her own. The marriage is functional above relational. And while there are exceptions (as always), these have been my observations, which, in recent days, have become all the more poignant.

Bana Bo and Charity

Sometimes when I give women advice regarding feeding of their children, or household sanitation, or raising funds for education, I see the look in their eyes that communicates a single word: “myself?” Oh, ladies, I wish it weren’t by yourself at all.

Bana Enoch with Impundu, Enoch and Alan

I’m thankful that a simple chicken buying excursion has helped rekindle my commitment to a group of women who work so hard – who do what I do, every day, on a much larger scale, and with much less help.

BYOB (bring your own box) party

To all the mamas around the world who, for the love of their babies, try their very best in all things, I thank you.

a whole slew of "making it work" mamas

And to my partner in life, hubster and friend, I deeply respect you.

Jeremy, Bronwyn and Gift