While I’ve been here over the past month I’ve dwelled a lot on the parts of life here that are not so exciting or inspiring.  I’ve felt frustrated over the loss of much of the autonomy I had back home.  My choices of how I spend my time, where I spend my time, what I eat, where I eat, etc. have all been very limited here.  On a day to day bases life is basically the same-old same-old as a Mercy Ships crewmate, so it’s been hard to see the important things that have been going on here.  I’ve been overlooking what Mercy Ships really does for people.

  As an example, for the past month the hospital has designated an entire ward to treating women with vesico-vaginal fistulas (VVF).  You may not know what this is.  I didn’t until I got here.  A VVF is a hole that develops through the wall of a woman’s vagina during child birth.  This doesn’t happen to just any woman.  It is caused by both circumstantial and physical factors.  These women have little to no access to health care.  They mostly live in rural communities that are several days journey away from a hospital.  They have no health professionals nearby to aid in the delivery of their child.  Often these women are married at a young age, like 14, and have not fully developed.  The other women that are older may have poor nutrition and have not grown to their full stature.  These women that are small do not have pelvises that are large enough to deliver a child through their birth canal.  As a result of these factors when these women become pregnant they often times have difficulty delivering the baby.  The baby is unable to pass through birth canal, and can be stuck for several days.  While the baby’s head is stuck it is blocking off the blood supply to the wall of the birth canal.  Without blood supply the tissue dies and a hole is left behind.   In almost all cases the baby is lost.  In addition to the immense amount of emotional damage, these women are left with physical damage too.  The holes that are created run right through into the bladder and/or the rectum and therefore these women become permanently incontinent without medical treatment.

  The thing that grabs my attention the most about these women is the social stigma they face.  The incontinence is what pushes them out of their homes, families, and villages.  Because of the holes in their vagina they can’t control their urine and feces, so they constantly leak.  With constant leaking comes constant smell.  People don’t want to be around smelly people.  They are often rejected by their family and community because of their inability to function in normal life. 

  Mercy Ships tries to locate as many VVF women as they can when they arrive in the country.  They sent a screening crew into the interior of Guinea to evaluate women with incontinence problems.  Once enough women were screened and selected to fill-out the surgery list they were scheduled to be admitted to the hospital.  They arrived over a month ago.  When first they arrived they came in clothing that had been soaked in their own waste.  The smell was so strong that it permeated through the whole hospital.  I wasn’t even involved in caring for them, but I could still smell their presence.  It was hard not to be bothered by it.  I was challenged to remember that it’s not the fault of these women that they smell.  After showering and having their clothes laundered the smell was a lot more controlled.

   The surgeries have been going on for about a month now, and while there have been many challenges fixing these women, some have been healed and are now continent.  The amazing thing about these women is their joy and appreciation for being loved and treated like a normal person by the Mercy Ships crew.   Another extraordinary thing is that they have now found other women who have the same problem and have faced the same challenges.  Not only is the hospital a place for physical healing, it’s a place for emotional healing too.  Even if they’re not fixed yet you can tell that they are happy. 

  I have not personally cared for these women, except for one shift when I got floated to that ward, but from what I’ve learned about them I find a challenge for myself when come back home.  My challenge is to not be one of the many people that reject or ignore people with unsightly or unpleasant physical disabilities.  I think a common thing I do is blame people for their problem.  I think, “Why can’t they clean up better?” Or “Why would they let themselves be that way?”  It’s a strange human impulse to blame people for their diseases.  If only I had the wisdom to always consider that they may have no fault in their physical or mental disabilities.

  If you’re interested in learning more about VVF and the emotional struggle women go through with this disease you should check out the documentary “A Walk to Beautiful”  It’s very good.

Weekend out in Kindia

I have a week and a half left on the ship.  Crazy.  When I started 4 months ago I couldn't imagine there ever being an end.  Now it's just up ahead, almost in view.   As I mentioned in my previous post, things are really changing here.  Even more people left in the past week.   Our evening Dutch Blitz game crew is getting pretty sparse.  It's harder to find people to sit with at meals.  Those of us who remain have stuck together, but soon I will be another one to jump ship.  Over the holidays the crew (especially hospital crew) will be quite small because there will be no surgeries performed for a couple weeks.  All the patients will be combined to one ward.  Once the holidays have passed a new influx of crew will come to the ship.  I imagine this place will breath new life in January.
  Despite all the sadness of saying good-bye every other day the holidays have made ship-life fun.  This past weekend people put Christmas decorations up all around the ship.  There are Christmas trees, wreaths, ornaments, Christmas lights, and garland everywhere.  The international lounge where we have our church services is so nicely decorated that it almost made me want to cry.  It's amazing to be able to celebrate such an important holiday with Christians from around the world.  I'm grateful for not being in America right now.  There are too many distractions from the the true purpose of the holiday back home.  There's no talk of sales, toys, or new gadgets on the ship.  I think Americans could learn a thing of two from the Dutch.  They celebrate the Santa Claus part of Christmas on a different day than the celebration of Christ's birth. Today is Sinterklaas.  The day when the Dutch celebrate Saint Nick bringing gifts to the children of Holland.  I put my shoe outside my door last night and this morning I had a carrot in it.  I think the carrot was for Sinterklaas' horses, so it should have been what I put in my shoe last night. Oh well, at least I didn't get any coal.  Tonight Sinterklaas will even come to the ship. That should be fun.  Later this month on December 25th the Dutch will Celebrate Christ's birth.  I think this makes more sense that what we do in our country.
  Work is going well for the most part.  I only have 6 more shifts.  Hopefully they're fun and worthwhile.  There is one patient who has been with us since the hospital opened.  He has not been doing well.  About a week ago he developed meningitis as a complication of his surgery, and while he's mostly recovered from the meningitis he has a long road ahead.  His name is Abou and he's 16 years old.  He was born with a myelomeningocele (look it up) and the surgeons thought they could help him by removing it.  The surgery site took very long to heal.  He was leaking CSF for a long time and now he has a CSF drain to control his leaking.  The drain is only a temporary fix.  What he really needs is a shunt.  It would drain the extra spinal fluid into his abdominal cavity.  The surgery can probably be done on the ship, but it again would only be a temporary fix.  The shunts get clogged occasionally and can sometimes get infected.  The ship leaves Guinea in June and probably won't be coming back for several years, so there be no chance of us offering follow-up care for him if he has complications.  It's a sad situation all together, because he may not get past this.  His mother said this week that she didn't think she would see him leaving the ship.  We've had several 24-hour prayer days for him and it seems that God's answer is not to let him be healed at this time.  The crew is still earnestly praying for him and hoping that we can see healing on his body.  It'll hard for me to leave and not know his outcome.
  Other than those updates there's not much more to say.  Hopefully I'll get one more blog entry in before I leave the ship.

A picture of Bintou and me.  She's back home now and I miss her.

Some of the HOPE Center crew.  I can only visit this place a few more times.  Hard to believe.

 

Life is changing on the ship.  Over the past few weeks I've said good-bye to several friends.  The numbers keep thinning every week.  Of course there are new people coming in, but it will take time to build the same depth in friendship that I had with those that have left.  This is the hard part of Mercy Ships life.  You meet such amazing people and make great memories together, but we all come for different lengths of time so over and over again we say good-bye.  I'd love to believe that we'll all be able to reunite again soon, but most of us are from different countries and the probability of meeting again is low.  The moments of joy and excitement I've experienced with friends here outweighs the pain of saying good-bye though.
  Tim left the hospital.  It's amazing how quickly he has recovered.  About two weeks ago he got his trach out and he was able to speak for the first time in a while.  He didn't say much at first.  We had to prompt him a lot.  I think he was so used to not speaking.  One evening when I worked I heard my name called from behind me.  I was puzzled for a moment because it was a distinct African voice, but I didn't recognize it.  Then I looked around and there was Tim smiling and waving at me.  It was amazing.  Later that evening he was talking non-stop with his mom.  Him speaking is just one representation of how he has become a renewed person.  While we left the feeding tube in until he was discharged he started eating completely on his own.  One question I had asked him the night before his surgery was "Do you miss the taste of food?", and he said he did very much.  To have healed so quickly in 2 weeks that he can enjoy the taste of food again is so great.  He just wanted to eat constantly, he was always asking for another can of Ensure.  We only carry Vanilla flavored Ensure in the hospital, he drank that everyday about 8 times a day, and never seemed to get sick of it.  I'm sure he's getting some more variety in his diet now.  He left the hospital this past Wednesday.  He was discharged to the HOPE center so it's not an official good-bye.  I can still go and visit  him and his mother.  It'll be sad the day he officially goes home.  He's been with Mercy Ships since September.  I'm so excited for him though.  He will be able to enter his village a new man.  He will finally be able to participate in everyday life.  I can't even imagine what he will look like in a year when he has gained weight and his face has healed up.
  We celebrated Thanksgiving on the ship this past Thursday.  Really it was like any other day, except we had turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green bean casserole, and pumpkin pie for dinner.  It was delicious.  Since the crew is so international, not everybody celebrates.  I did get to tour a French naval ship on Thursday.  That was fun.  The ship was docked behind us for about 4 days.  It was a frigate that was about one third the size of our ship and carried a crew of about 100 men.  They offered tours through the ship.  They actually showed us around most of the space.  We got to see the engine room, the bridge, the galley, all their guns on deck and more.  I've never toured a working naval ship before.  Because of my father's affinity for ships, particularly naval ships, I think I have toured a decommissioned navy ship almost every summer of my life.  Those were always fun because I loved pressing all the buttons and pulling all the levers.  It was safe to do it on inactive ships, but on a working ship I had to resist the temptation.  Who knows what kind of damage I could have done.
  Here are some picture to leave you with.

 This is one of the funniest patients I've ever taken care of.  Her name is Bintou.  She is so full of life and sass.  Notice in the picture that she has a trachoestomy and feeding tube.  Her feedings were running while she posed for this picture.  Not much can slow her down.  I've never seen a patient so active with a trach before.  She has good reason to be active though.  Before her surgery she has a mass in her neck that was almost completely blocking her airway.  She had difficulty breathing especially when she slept.  Once the mass was removed and the trach was temporarily placed she could breath normal again.  Now the trach and feeding tube are out and she will probably be going home soon.  She has a husband, a 5 month daughter, and a 3 year old son to go home to.  I'm so glad we could save her life.

This is a picture of Tim about a day before he went home.  He's showing the muscles that he's finally gaining back.  We didn't have much to offer in terms of exercise equipment in the ward so I gave him 1 liter saline bottles to lift.  He loved using them to work on his biceps and triceps.

Friday morning brunch with friends.

Delicious food.

This week was a good week.  Tim’s surgery went better than we all expected, absolutely no complications.  While he did require several units of blood and ended up with some sore legs from the position he was laying in for 10 hours, he came out alive and on the road to recovery.  His face only needed minimal reconstruction, so he has a good chance of getting close to what he looked like before his tumor.  Currently he has a lot of excess skin sagging from his face, but over time the skin will pull back into its original shape without any surgery.  I wish I could see what he looks like a year down the road.  As for now I’m just excited to see that he can hold his head so much better.  He can smile now.  And soon he will have his tracheostomy and feeding tube removed because he will be able to eat and breathe on his own.  By his hand signals and frequent hand-shakes I can tell he is very grateful for how we have helped him.  Hopefully before I leave I’ll be able to hear his voice.

  Other than that great news, things are going well on the ship.  I am loving all of the friends I’ve made here.  There are so many amazing people from amazing places.  I often get side-tracked here.  Many times I’ve made plans for my day doing some mediocre activity alone, like reading a book, but then I run into a few people and before I know 3 hours have past while I’ve been talking to them.  Meal times often take 2-3 hours because I spend so much of the time talking with friends.  I’m going to miss that when I go home.

 My name badge.  This thing goes with me everywhere.

 Picture of the ship from the water.  I was returning back to the ship after a weekend away at one of the islands.  It was hard to get a good shot of the ship in one photo.

The patient I mentioned in a previous post is going to surgery tomorrow, November 7. We’ll call him Tim. There has been so much done for in him preparation for his surgery.  He has a facial tumor called an ameloblastoma.  The tumor originates in teeth and can grow quite large.  From what I understand his tumor has been growing for 5 years and it takes up the entire right side of his face below his eye and it extends into his entire mouth.  It protrudes from his face a few inches.  Because of the massive size of the tumor he has not been able to eat a nourishing diet and therefore is extremely emaciated. The tumor has consumed so much of his mouth that he was very close to having his airway blocked off.  To counteract both his starvation and his breathing difficulties he has received a tracheostomy and feeding tube.  For the past 3 weeks he has been in our ward trying to “beef up” for surgery.  We’ve been watching his blood lab work closely to see what can be done to correct his electrolyte imbalances and his malnourishment.  All in all he’s done well over that time.  He’s adjusted well to breathing through his trach, he’s gained weight, and he’s been exercising. 

  This date of November 7 seemed so far away that it almost felt like I would never see it coming, but now it lies just a few hours ahead.  I feel very nervous for what awaits him.  This surgery will be very risky.  The tumor is pushing into his skull so extensively that he runs the risk of stroke, and massive bleeding.  The surgeon has talked to Tim and his mother at length about the risks involved.  He was told that the surgery itself could kill him, but if he does not receive surgery he will also die.  Either way he might lose.  Of course we hope and pray that he will survive and not sustain any permanent injuries.  He has so much potential to move on and live a normal life.  He really is a healthy man.

  Over the past few days that I’ve cared for him my aim has been to give him as much quality as possible.  If these are his last few days of life, or normal physical function I want him to make the most of it.  I’m limited on what I can help him do.  He’s not allowed off the ship, and he’s only allowed to walk around certain areas.  I usually go on walks with him through the hospital ward.  I give him heavy objects, like 1 liter saline bottles, to use as weights.  The past two evenings I have taken up to our seventh deck in the evening to watch the sunset.  I brought my water polo ball from home and we use it to kick around.  Tim used to be a semi-professional soccer player, so I think he really enjoys kicking the ball.

   Amidst all my doubt and worry about the outcome of his surgery some hope gets through and I picture him as a renewed man.  I imagine how he will do a simple task, like sitting, without having to carry the weight of is tumor.  He will literally be cut free from his burden.  I hope it is God’s will that he makes it safely through surgery and we can be there to witness his recovery.

I have some pictures to post from the past week. So enjoy (if you like looking at pictures as much as I do).

My roommate Faye at the ship control panel while we were on our tour through Deck 1 of the ship.

Getting a tour through the engine room.

It is a very large engine room.

Me in front of our incinerator, where all our medical waste goes.

The D-ward family.

Hanging out with the kiddos.

My decorated cabin door on my birthday.

My first Mercy Ships birthday.

Eating birthday dinner by sunset with my wonderful friends.

Playing spoons.

Hanging out with some awesome girls at the HOPE Center.

They are so much fun. 

Sorry for the delay in the blog entry.  I haven't kept up with my usual once a week post.  In my defense this past week and a half has been filled with activities and work.  Last weekend I traveled off the ship with some friends and visited a town called Coya.  We stayed at a nice park with lodging.  It was a great experience all together.  Traveling there was a blast.  We rode in the back of a mini-bus, which is basically a van with all the seats removed and replaced with wooden benches so that more passengers can fit.  In addition to the 8 of us there were about 15 more African people.  It was a snug fit, but the cost made it worth it.  I think it came out to about $1 each to travel 45km.  It's also a great way to feel engaged with the culture.  Once we made it to our lodging in Coya we quick settled in, and then the owner (Alice from Holland) took us out on a tour through a nearby village.  The area was pretty rural.  There were lots of small farms and open land. We walked for about 1.5 hours and then got caught in the rain.  It was great.  For some reason walking out in the middle of nowhere in the rain felt familiar.  The rain eased up for a little while and we arrived at a lake where a picnic was set up for us. The lake was beautiful with the backdrop of a mountain in the distance.  After eating a quick lunch we headed back to the park and spent the rest of the afternoon trying to dry off and relax.  That evening we ate a nice dinner and then had a bonfire with s'mores.  It was great end to the day.
  The next day we went a hike up into the mountains.  It was the best.  I miss hikes.  We hiked straight up for about 45 minutes, but once we made it to the top the view made it worth it.  We could see all the way to the ocean.  It was so refreshing.  I was so grateful to be away from the chaos and bustle of the city.  I know this for certain, I am not a city person no matter where in the world I am.  I'd rather be out of the city in the middle of nowhere any day.  I could have stayed on that hike for a few more days.  We traveled down the mountain and crossed paths with some local boys that were carrying wood.  They put us to shame. Some of them were wearing flip-flops and were booking down the path with heavy loads on their heads.  Here I was with my nicely treaded shoes and a light load and I was slipping down the path going nice and slow.  Once we made it to the bottom our guides suggested traveling to a waterfall not too far away.  We were all a little hot at that point so a waterfall sounded nice.  After walking another 20-30 minutes we made it to the waterfall.  It was beautiful.  At that point all our shoes were soaking wet from walking across rivers through the hike, so jumping in the water and getting completely wet didn't seem too bad.  We all got in and swam around for a little while.  It was great.
  After our hike was through and we arrived back at the park and changed into some dry clothes.  We packed our stuff up, ate some lunch, and then headed back to Conakry.  It was such a satisfying weekend.  It was a great time with friends, local people, and the outdoors.
  Other than my great weekend, my week has been going well.  I have worked the past 4 days and cared for a particular patient that reminds me a lot of some of the patients I've care for back home.  He is 38 years old and has a very large facial tumor that probably weighs about 10 or 15 lbs. The mass mostly covers his mouth so he hasn't been able to get any decent nutrition for a long time.  He is mostly a skeleton.  About a week ago he had a trach and feeding tube placed.  The trach is to protect his airway from the growing tumor and the surgery he will soon receive.  The feeding tube is to boost up his nutrition as much as possible so he can tolerate and recover from surgery.  He's really struggling though.  He has constant pain.  The tumor weighs so much that it's hard to hold his head up.  Since he's so skinny he has lots of bony prominences which become sore while laying in bed.  He's scared about his trach.  He gets very anxious when he coughs which is normal, but since he and I don't speak the same language I can't coach him and reassure him that he'll be ok very effectively.  One of the days this week he signaled to me that he was going to die.  He looked so defeated.  He was sitting in a chair at the time and shortly after crawled into his bed and curled up in the fetal position.  It broke my heart, I struggled to hold back tears.  I couldn't tell him he wasn't going to die.  Literally because I don't speak the language and also because I just don't know.  No one's days are guaranteed.  His surgery is going to be very risky and he may not survive after it's completed.  I called our Patient Life team and had someone who speaks his language come by and offer support.  The Patient Life people have been great with him.  I hope that as time goes on we can help him find peace, motivation, and hope for what lies ahead.  At this point his surgery is scheduled for November 7.
  Here are some recent pictures.

This was lodging at the park where we stayed.

On our walk through the village.

Rice fields

The walk before the rain came.

Arriving upon the lake where we had lunch.

The beautiful lake. Pictures don't do it justice.

View from the top of the mountain.

Some of the group as we hiked.

The local boys carrying their wood. 

The waterfall where we all went swimming.

My friend Emily and I completely drenched after our swim.

View of the city at sunset.

Our ride home after dinner.  Nine people plus taxi driver in one compact car.

I’m beginning to love this place.  I have experienced so many moments of joy and excitement in this past week.  Each day in its own has given me so much to smile about.  I feel like I’ve reached the point where I can finally grasp what’s going on around me.  The first two months I was overwhelmed by everything, and I had a fear that once I took in all the changes that I would come to the conclusion that this wasn’t for me. But, instead the opposite has happened, I feel I am right where God wants me to be.  In so many layers I have seen His work done in my life and the lives of people around me.  I could attempt to overlook His work, but it’s too blatant.  I won’t get too personal, but overall I am so grateful.  I am so relieved.

  I have continued to visit the HOPE Center where former patients are and every time I’m greeted with so much excitement that it warms my heart.  And consider this, I don’t even speak the same language of these people, yet I feel like I know them.  I can communicate to them my care and they can communicate their needs by simple gestures and warm smiles.  The kids at the HOPE Center also come back to the ship weekly for check-ups with the doctors and on this past Wednesday they came back down to the hospital to see us.  A few patients still in our ward were here at the same time as the HOPE Center patients so it was a little reunion.  Everyone was so excited.  They were hugging, laughing, and sharing stories.  It gave the impression of a family reunion.  It made me realize how much they meant to each other.  The parents and the children had bonded so much over their experiences.  It’s hard to describe without witnessing it, but people here form such strong relationships that they appear to be family.  Seeing this made me realize the vast impact we’ve made on people’s lives.

  On Thursday we had quite a bit of excitement on the ship.  There was a French Naval ship tied behind our ship and the president of Guinea was there to make a special visit.  I didn’t know this was happening until I attempted to take my trash out and couldn’t leave the ship because the dock was so heavily guarded by the Guinean military. This was about 1 in the afternoon.  And if that wasn’t exciting enough, we got word about a half hour later that the president wanted to come and visit our ship.  The message came on the overhead that “someone very special” was coming onboard at about 3pm so we needed to clean up, put things away, and put on some nice clothes if we want to meet this “special person”.  I had to work at 2pm so I headed down to the hospital.  We later heard that the president wanted to see the hospital in particular (since this is what we’re all about).  Everyone in the ward was so excited and nervous at the same time.  We had to do a quick clean up all of the toys, beds, and scattered paper.  At about 3pm the president made it down to our ward.  Our charge nurse was given the task of showing him around and introducing a few patients.  With all the staff, media, security officials, and patients it was a very crowded ward, but I was able to stand just a few feet from him.  It was a little surreal, that a person of such great authority and responsibility for so many people might be right here on our little ship standing in front of me.  It was a mix of both my everyday life and a once-in-a-life-time experience.  After seeing our ward the president also went on the visit the other wards, and then afterward was invited to speak to the crew in our meeting hall.  I wasn’t able to hear his speech, but people told me that he shared his gratitude for what we are doing here in his country.  They said it was a very nice speech.

  I’m getting out of chronological sequence, but earlier in the week I witnessed another great moment.  I think it was Tuesday, we admitted a little girl about 7 years old to our ward.  She had come to have a cleft lip repaired.  The caregiver that came along with her was her grandfather.  We immediately welcomed her into the ward.  One of the nurses, Beth, showed her around and introduced her to some of the other children there.  Beth was simply carrying her around and talking to her like she would to any child.  A little while later the grandfather told one of the translators how grateful he is for us and the way we treated his granddaughter.  He said that back home people never touch her, let alone talk to her.  She is excluded from playing with kids, going to school, and being acknowledged.  I was astounded to hear this. It’s hard to believe that for something as simple as a cleft lip a person can be treated so poorly.  A day later the little girl received her lip repair surgery.  After the surgery was completed I watched as the PACU nurses brought her back into her bed on the ward and the grandfather saw her corrected lip for the first time.  I almost cried watching him.  He was speechless with the biggest smile on his face.  He was pacing around her bedside placing his hands on her.  He was overcome with joy.  It was amazing to think that by doing such a simple surgery we have changed this girls life in so many ways.  I can only hope that as she returned home people treated her with the full-extent of humanity that she deserved.

  That’s the summary of what my week has been like.  It’s been great and I’m glad to be here.  I hope the good experiences keep coming.  I’ll leave you with a few pictures of the presidential visit.

 The president of Guinea heading up the gangway of the ship.

  Rachel, our D-ward team leader and charge nurse, introducing some of our patients.

  

Rachel speaking through one of crew members to translate.

 The Guinean naval band

Picture of our captain in front of the Guinean Navy. 

The president saying thanks to the crew.

Hey Everyone,
  Things are still going well over here in Guinea.  Life has just been a continuation of what I started doing about a month ago.  I 'm still working in the hospital, spending free time with friends, and learning lots about people from all over the world. 
  In this entry I thought I might just share pictures with captions.

 This picture was taken at the HOPE Center.  It's where some of the patients go when they're ready to leave the hospital, but no quite ready to go home.  I've traveled here a couple of times on my days off to visit the people I've taken care of.  It's so fun to see them and to see how they've continued to recover.  In this picture is Kadiatu and me.  She is a little girl who came to Mercy Ships to have a repair done on her hand after a burn injury she had a few years ago.

 In this picture is Emily, one of the nurses I work with.  She is from Washington and is here with her husband who is also a nurse.  Again, this picture was taken at the HOPE Center. These two little boys are Lamin and Mamadou.  They spent lots of time with us on the ward recovering from their surgeries.  Now at the HOPE Center they continue to recover and will hopefully be going home soon.

This is Lamin again.  He is so precious to me. I'm grateful I've gotten a chance to care for him. As you can see by his beautiful smile, he is full of energy and happiness.  He was on the ship for many weeks and has now been at the center for about 2 weeks.  Hopefully he'll be going home to Sierra Leone soon.

 This, not so exciting picture, was taken on our journey outside of Conakry this past Saturday.  It was the first time I've left the city since arriving.  I journeyed with a few friends in one of the Mercy Ships vehicles. We traveled about  an hour and a half to a town called Dubreka.  We didn't set out with this destination in mind, but a few girls in the group knew how to get there, so that's where we ended up.  It's wonderful to see the countryside.  It's very heavily forested with lots of mountains.

In the town of Dubreka is a very nice waterfall.  We traveled up a rough dirt road and ended here about 20 minutes later.  We only hung out here for about 30 minutes, because we needed to get the truck back to the ship.  The waterfall was very powerful from lots of recent rain fall.  I hope to visit more waterfall sites around the country during my time here.