The Children

Samuel

                I have lost my heart to a little African boy named Samuel.  We think he is around 2-3 yrs old, but can’t walk.  Instead he scouts across the floor on his bottom.  Samuel has been at the nutrition center for just over a week.  His mom died a year ago during childbirth, and his dad couldn’t stay with him because he works during the day.  So Samuel is here all by himself, our little orphan child. At times we will see him sitting by himself on his mat, and that when we will bring him home to our house  so we can give him some love and attention. Since hanging out with us he has started to pick up some English.  He mimics everything you say, to the point where he sounds like a parrot!!  I have taught him to blow kisses and say I love you. Samuel has the cutest dimples when he smiles, and laughs which he does often.  Even though he is here by himself he is a very happy child.  Jocelyn one of the women here helps take care of him during the day and night.  She has a son named Douna that is a patient at our nutrition center.  Jocelyn is in charge of making the two meals for the kids at the nutrition center during the day.  When you look at Samuel you might not think he is malnourished by his big tummy.  But like a lot of kids here in Chad, the big stomachs don’t represent being fat.  It represents edema from lack of protein and other nutrients in their bodies.  This type of malnutrition is called kwashiorkor’s.  Samuel also was starting to develop edema in his feet.  After being at the nutrition for three days his edema in his feet is gone.

                It’s so easy to get attached to the kids here at the nutrition center.  At the hospital you don’t have the problem.  But at the nutrition center you see them every day, and get to know them.  Death here is so common, but never easy to deal with even when you are surrounded by it.  It’s hard to become attached to the kids then lose them.  I have tried to harden my heart, and keep my distance, to try and lesson the pain of losing them.  But when they smile at me, take my hand in their small one, beg to be picked up, fall asleep in my arms, look at me with their big brown eyes I am lost.  The walls I try and put around my heart crumble, and I can’t help but let them in.  I have decided that even though we can’t save them all, and even though it hurts every time we lose a kid to malnutrition, that at the end of the day my life is so much fuller by loving and getting to know the children.

Merci and her mother Josephine 

                We just found out yesterday afternoon that one of our out patients died.  Her name was Merci (meaning thank you in French) and she was just over a year.  She was a patient at the nutrition center for about 2-3 weeks before she became an outpatient.  She was a beautiful little girl with the longest eyelashes.   I don’t believe that Merci died from malnutrition, because she wasn’t very malnourished.  We believe that she died from some respiratory problem.  The last two weeks she was with us her respiratory rate was very high, and she had nasal flaring.  Her lungs were clear but you could hear a wheezing sound when you listened to them. We sent her down to the hospital multiple times to get treated and looked at but there isn’t much they could do.  We tried giving her prednisone to help open her airways but it didn’t seem to help. She was treated with quinine for malaria, and was one three different antibiotics but nothing helped her breathing.  Her mom Josephine always made me laugh.  She only spoke a couple words in French, so she would always speak in Naderia to me.  She would carry on these long one sided conversations in Naderia as if I understood what she was saying!!  And the funny thing was half the time I could kind of understand what she was saying!!  I am not saying I have the gift of tongues because God hasn’t decided to bless me with that gift yet, but somehow we were always able to communicate with each other. Anytime I picture what a Chadian woman I picture Josephine.  She made charcoal out of wood by building a mud oven in the ground, she should me how to pound peanuts and millet using a big wooden bowl and this big wooden stick.  The African use this to pound everything from peanuts to rice.  The big wooden stick is thick about the size of a arm, and about 4-5 feet tall.  Both ends are flat and they use the ends to pound stuff into the wooden bowl.  They toss the wooden stick into the air, catch it then bring it down to pound it into the bowl.  Sometimes when they will toss the stick into the air they will clap twice, catch it, pound it into the bowl then toss it up again. Josephine had me try it once when she was pounding peanuts into peanut butter.  I thought it didn’t look to hard and gave it a try.  What I didn’t realize was how heavy the wooden stick was and, how easy it was to tip the wooden bowl over!! Luckily the other women who were standing around caught it so I didn’t spill the peanuts.  They found this to be hilarious, and couldn’t stop laughing.  Since my first try I have gotten better, but I still haven’t conquered the double clap after tossing the wooden stick (which is more like a small tree trunk) up in the air.  I see kids here that look like they are 6 years old with skinny little arms tossing the huge pounding stick up in the air, and I think to myself, “Come one Carlie, if a child can do it, so can you!!” I will have to practice more.

Duna and his mother Jocelyn 

                 Athens and I are planning to go to Merci funeral sometime this week.  Usually a funeral goes on for about a week after the death.  You drop by the house and sit with the family for awhile.  I have not been to a funeral yet since I have been here and don’t know exactly what its like.  But we both want to give our respect to the family.