The wind is blowing strong. The cold weather is starting to arrive in the mountains. And many people in the mountains have no shelter, no food, no fresh water, no medical care and maybe no hope. But there is always hope. I recall learning in Greek Mythology the story of Pandora’s box. No matter what the situation was and how bad it was, there was and always will be hope left in the box.
I do have hope. I hope that I can try to make a difference to a few whose lives have been so shattered by recent worldly disasters. As I get ready to depart on yet another mission, I always ask myself what makes me do this type of work? What makes me want to give up my privileged life in Canada, my family and friends and go around the world to an often dirty, smelly, unclean, unhealthy, unknown and sometimes politically unstable environment? Well, I guess it is because I was a ‘lucky’ one. It was random luck that I was the one who was born in the safe, secure country of Canada and not in a refugee camp in Northern Kenya. It was random luck that I am the one who has had two wonderful, supportive, healthy parents who would do anything for their children (and still do) and not an AIDS orphan from Africa. It was also luck and situation that I was born into a middle class family with lots of opportunity to continue in post-secondary education to study medicine and not one of the girls in Afghanistan who never was allowed to go to school. So why do I do the work that I do? I challenge myself and say, ‘what is your excuse not to do this kind of work?’
This time I am off to the earthquake zone in the north and disputed part of Pakistan, Kashmir. I leave very soon, and fly to Islamabad. We then will drive north to Muzaffarabad and maybe north again into the mountains. I have been shopping and packing and try to decide what needs to go into my dufflebag. I expect to have winter camping conditions and expect to be living in a tent, on the ground. I am not sure about internet and telephone access. The latrines are overflowing and we must now bring our own latrine. Only once a day to the latrine? That will be very interesting. If we are really fortunate, we might get a shower about every 4th day. Sounds like a hardship after leaving the comforts of my Canadian home. Not when you look at the big picture. The truth is that I will still have much more than many of the earthquake survivors. Many survivors would give anything to have a tent over their heads, a winter sleeping bag and a chance at a shower. ‘So why am I having such a difficult time deciding the contents of my bag?’ I ask myself.
The earthquake has been cruel. We know that there are many injuries from the earthquake. Some injured people have arrived to medical clinics and field hospitals in the area. Other people have not been so fortunate, still trapped in the mountains with no road access to get in or out. I imagine that some of the medical problems will be similar to what I experienced in Banda Aceh, Indonesia after the Tsunami this year. I expect to see fractures infected wounds that will be very difficult to heal, complicated lacerations, head injuries, crush injuries and more. I don’t expect to see the near drowning (aspiration) pneumonias that I saw post Tsunami. I do expect, however, to see people suffering to stay alive from the intense cold, the very opposite of the intense heat in Banda Aceh. I also know that there have been many broken families because of the earthquake. Children who have been plucked from their village, taken to a hospital hundreds of miles away, all by themselves, who have not uttered even one word since the disaster weeks ago. What will happen with them?
In addition to the disaster related to the earthquake, I know that I will also be dealing with another disaster. It is a disaster that affects far too many people globally. I have seen it over and over again in many countries like Indonesia, Rwanda, Kenya, Honduras, Bangledesh and many more. It never gets any easier to see. That disaster is poverty. Poverty breeds poor health. Even this year, after the Tsunami, I saw many examples of illness directly related to poverty. I saw children who never were able to have their congenital cataracts repaired, so they became blind. I saw young women who had recto-vaginal fistulas who had not been able to marry because of never having the opportunity to have their congenital problem repaired as a child. I saw people who came to see us as their very last hope. They had never seen a doctor before because they could never afford to. They had tumours that were so advanced that all we could offer was pain control and their faith. I also saw preventable diseases that should have never occurred in the first place. If there had been an accessible, effective immunization programme, I would never have seen the 8 year old girl with tetanus suffering in the intensive care unit, or the many others who died of tetanus from their infected Tsunami wounds. It all seems simply unjust and unnecessary.
So as I finish packing my bag and medicines, I think about all those people and those orphaned children. My second piece of luggage will contain a box of toys, with papers, puzzles, books, crayons and stickers. I hope that it will make a suffering child smile, if even for a minute. I hope that they can draw some of their experiences, maybe to start a healing process.
So ahead of me for the next while will be a challenge. Each mission is never the same. One thing is always the same, uncertainty about what to expect. With every mission, I learn more, I reflect some more and I grow some more. Humanitarian work is definitely not for everyone. There are many reasons that I feel driven to do this type of work. There is something that calls me to do it. Yes, it is very difficult to leave my kids, pack my bags and get on that plane. But not nearly as difficult as what others are doing right now.
Now I take a big breath, here it goes……
No comments:
Post a Comment