Future plans

I think it's about time that I let everyone know what the next year has in store for me. When I first signed up with Mercy Ships, I made a two year commitment to stay with the ship. That commitment ends in mid February 2012. I have decided that I'd like to stay a little longer. Let me launch into the details...

I met the ship at the beginning of its field service in Lome, Togo. We had a shortened six month stint because the ship was heading to South Africa for an extended shipyard period. I stayed on the ship that whole time and we sailed up to Sierra Leone in February of this year to start a normal ten month field service. Although it doesn't seem like it, our time in SL is now weeks away from being over. It's been a long field service in a lot of ways. A lot has happened here, first with the incidents at screening, then a long and sometimes dreary rainy season and now we're getting ready to close up shop. I will always look back on my time in SL with fondness and some pain.

Once we sail out of Freetown we will stopover in Ghana for about 3 weeks of rest for the crew. This will be badly needed for a lot of us long term crew. Although Ghana may not be the best place for a vacation, it is one of the most developed nations in West Africa. I spent a weekend in Accra in July of 2010 while the ship was in Togo. It even has a shopping mall with a real movie theater. I'm looking to forward to setting into a big comfy chair with popcorn and a soda as the lights fade. It's been quite a while since I've done that.

Anyway, enough about the movies. After the break we will head back to Togo for another shortened six month field service. It seems that Togo's Ministry of Health never stopped asking for us to come back and give them the extra months that we missed the first time. After that the ship will resume its normal schedule and head to the Canary Islands for two months of shipyard.

Ok, so there are the details and facts. The reason I want to stay longer is simply because I want to finish well in my job. If I left when my commitment ended in February I would be leaving right after we arrive in Togo, without fully training my replacement. Hospital supply has become very important to me. When I first arrived on the ship my job was a little overwhelming for me. But now I've settled in and made some positive changes in how supply works for the medical crew. I'm very interested in making sure the torch gets passed on well, so I want to stay until June/July of 2012 and leave the ship for good from the Canary Islands.

All of that being said, I want to recognize that I can only be here because many of you donate financially to me. Crew members have to pay rent, health and evacuation insurance and a variety of other bills. When I was fundraising two years ago, I asked people to commit to supporting me monthly for two years, because that was my initial commitment. A lot of you have faithfully written me a check every month, some even increasing their support over time. I want to say thank you to everyone who has contributed monthly or as a one time check.

I also want to say to you those of you who committed for two years that this is the end of your commitment. Feel free to cease your giving if that's what you want to do. I won't be coy about it though, I'd love it if everyone would be willing to extend their support for an additional five months. Think about it, pray about it, talk it over. If you're a monthly supporter you'll receive an email from me in a while asking for your decision so I can figure out where I stand. If you're a one time giver you won't get an additional email from me about support, but if you'd like to give again or sign up for monthly support, please contact me at cyle.davenport@mercyships.org.

Whew, money talk is over. I'm still not entirely comfortable with that stuff. In other news, I will be taking a trip home to States in March. My friend Ryan is getting married in LA and I really wanted to be there so I swung a deal with Mercy Ships to have them pay for my ticket home because I couldn't afford it. I'll be in LA in early March, then I'll be coming to New England after that for a few weeks. I intend to show up at OAC and MDC while I'm home to reconnect with everyone for a bit.

Trip to Kabala

I was given a chance to go 200 miles inland and visit some former patients with the communications team from the ship. This is what happened:

We run down the gangway in the pouring ran and climb into the land rover, tossing our packs in the back. The traffic slowly tapers away as we get further and further away from Freetown. The rain doesn't. We splash through countless puddles and cross bridges over brown rushing rivers. The six hour drive to Kabala zooms by as we pass huts and waving shouting children. The mountains surrounding the road are shrouded in mist, but we can still make out towering black rock faces inadequately covered by fresh grass. It looks like the top of my steadily balding head.

Kabala itself reminds me of Cape Town. It has a giant black cliff shadowing over the village, much like a younger cousin of Table Mountain. Our accommodations are the best that the village has to offer. We have real mattresses, water in buckets for flushing, semi-reliable power from 7pm-midnight, and the blackest quietest night you can imagine. We are told breakfast will be ready at 7am, so after a dinner of peanut soup and rice, we turn in. Breakfast is better than I could have imagined and definitely better than any breakfast you can get on the ship. We have instant coffee and baguettes filled with fried eggs. It really hit the spot. It's raining again and our former patients are waiting, so we don't delay in departing the guest house.

We drive into the center and spot Binta and her family waiting for us under the tin roof of auto parts shack. Binta had a leg-straightening surgery on the ship several months ago. Her legs used to be turned inward sharply at the knees, making walking difficult and running impossible. In her type of surgery, the bones below her knees are snipped and adjusted, so recovery is no simple process. After weeks of casts and then weeks of physiotherapy, you can't tell anything was ever wrong with her legs. She squeals when we pull up, especially at the sight of Liz because they spent hours together on the ship. With her are her grandmother and pregnant auntie. I asked Binta's auntie later where her mother was. She simply said "Her mother is not here." I don't know if that means she died or if she lives in some other village. As is the case with almost every Sierra Leone family I've met, the father is not around and perhaps not even known.

Twenty children instantly surround us. They aren't begging for money or asking for food, they just want to see what's happening. We all begin walking to Binta's grandmother's house. We cross through houses for shortcuts. In and out of dining rooms, over drainage ditches, through vegetable markets. We see piles of garbage and trees full of vultures. The houses are close together and the people are extremely community minded. I think it must be birthed from necessity, but that doesn't matter. No one looks malnourished or even unhappy. Most of the people I see are working or doing chores. We walk on muddy roads, stepping on mossy rocks. There is fog and wood smoke in the air, and the locals will say it's very cold, although the temperature is not below 75. Many houses have small gardens with ten stalks of corn growing tall and little cucumber plants. There are mangy dogs everywhere and twitching cattle tied to trees. We cross on stepping stones over two babbling brooks with a large rice paddy between. Binta's auntie, 7 months pregnant, is very concerned about helping us traverse the stones safely. We stroll alongside each other behind the rest of the group, singing a song we both know back and forth. She moves with the rhythm of the song and I stumble along attempting to walk-dance. She tells me I'm pretty good for a white guy. I'll gladly accept that.

After a while, we arrive at the house. Along the way we everyone greets us with "Ow de mornin?" We respond "Fine Fine." The children come up to me and say "Ma lef is nor ma own," the Krio interpretation of my tattoo. I'm not sure why we went to the house, because we only stayed for five minutes before going back to the car. As soon as we get there, Binta's auntie runs inside the house and reappears with a teakettle. She says she wants to wash my feet. In my head I hear a million monologues arguing over whether I should allow this. In the end I just look down and notice that my feet are dirty, so I accept. On the way back to the car I walk hand in hand with little Binta and we talk softly about the friends she made on the ship and I tell her how everyone is doing. She tells me that some of the people in the village call her 'Legs' now, not in a demeaning way, but in a proud way. I think it suits her.

When we get back to the car the other former patient is waiting there for us. His name is Fawne and he had the same procedure done as Binta. His surgery was later though, and he isn't as confident on his 'new legs'. We all pile in the land rover and drive over to Fawne's brother's house on the other side of the village. Just like before, as soon as we arrive twenty curious kids surround us. Unlike before, the team wants to do a real sit-down interview so they need some quiet and a distraction free environment.

So just like that I have my first job on the trip. I have to distract twenty kids so they won't run off and crowd around Fawne. Binta dares me to climb a mango tree, and I accept without really thinking. It surprised me to learn that the kids here don't really climb trees much, so they were very entertained to see me doing it. To them everything is very entertaining when a big white man does it. There's a small riot when I start hooting and howling like a monkey. I got about fifteen feet up before realizing getting down was not going to be easy. The trunk was covered in moss and quite slippery. I eventually got down, but not before gaining an interesting moss stain on my clothes and tearing my shorts a bit. I figure next we should try a little education. The land rover is dirty enough to write on so I try writing a few words that I thought they might know. Before long it turns into a game of who can make the most interesting design on the land rover. Next I went to the old standby, airplane rides. I spot a brave looking boy and beckon him over to me. I instruct him to put out his hands and hold onto mine. I grab his wrists and we start to move around in a circle, gaining speed. He doesn't understand what I'm doing until he's airborne. There's another small riot as a spin him around and around. I do another 30 airplane rides, and even a couple from the feet for the braver kids. One girl keeps trying to hand me a tiny naked baby, but every time he sees what I look like, he becomes very distraught.

By the time the interview is finished I'm totally exhausted, not to mention pretty dizzy. We take Binta and Fawne back to their houses in the car, wave goodbye and set our course for the coast. It's a whirlwind of two days and I can't help but crash in my cabin and go to sleep immediately.

It was a life-giving trip. It wasn't just being able to get off the ship and relax a little. Something about walking around the village and entertaining the kids has given me some hope. I don't have Africa figured out. I can't seem to classify the people and tuck them away in the compartment in my brain labeled 'What makes African people tick.' I've experienced moments of petty selfishness and moments of transcendent love.

Thanks for your prayer and encouraging notes and emails after my last post. At this moment I feel uplifted and ready to face the next few months.

All photos by Liz Cantu (click for larger view)-------

Some of the huts we saw on the way to Kabala

Big tree, little me

At Binta's house with the neighborhood kids

Talking to Binta and Fawne together

After the tree incident Binta started calling me Mango Monkey

More neighborhood kids during Operation Distraction

Chillin on the landy

Airplane ride for Fawne

An honest thought

This post is really to just to keep all of the people who care about me in the loop.

It's mid-field service right now. We are just over halfway done in Sierra Leone, which means daily life is becoming a bit monotonous. I'm feeling pretty run down right now. You can tell by my lack of blog posts that I'm not quite at my best recently. Life on the ship and in Africa has a way of driving a person into the ground. Just like many of you at home, stress is constantly piled on at work and in social arenas. The difference is that the ways a person learns to deal with stress at home don't work here. I can't go home and forget about work because my work is always so close by. I can't drive to the park to read by myself because there isn't a park and even if there was one I would constantly be pestered by someone trying to sell me something. I can't sip a coffee on a quiet Sunday morning because quiet doesn't exist here. You get the picture.

Many of the long term crew have taken vacations in the states or Europe. I've learned that this is an essential piece to living successfully on the ship. For me and others like me, nothing sounds better than escaping this world for a few weeks, but the money simply isn't there. We band together and try to stay positive, but it isn't easy. We've still got 4 months here and then to Ghana for a few weeks, and then a 6 month field service in Togo. It seems like there's no end in sight and I struggle every minute to stay motivated.

I fear as I write this that you'll not want to hear my complaining. My apologies if that is all this post is. Perhaps it will help a bit just to write some of this out. I know that we are here doing good things for the Sierra Leone people. I try to think of that at these times. Please remember me in your prayers. I need an intervention to keep going. Some kind of spiritual adrenaline shot straight into my heart would be nice.

Easter road trip

Four days off for Easter weekend = road trip through Sierra Leone. We rented a van and got to it. This blog is a photographic chronicle of the fun.

Our awesome road trip van, complete with flat tire and bonus flat spare tire.

Dulce is sad about flats. Fortunately, we counted on the kindness of strangers. You can see me in the back there about to get into some guy's SUV to go fix the tires.

Success. More kind strangers are always close by in Sierra Leone.

The third member of the road trip, Liz Cantu, extreme photographer.

We stopped at every bridge to see if I could jump from it.

Dulce convinced me to swim under the bridge to check the depth first. She was right, I would've broken my legs.

"Buy my goat! Good price for you!"

The African landscape burns. This is a farming technique called 'slash and burn'.

Not everything dies after it's been charred.

A peek inside van life. Dulce is probably about to do something terrible to me.

Hot outside, eh? Note the American air freshener. People in SL like us stateys.

Hungry? Just pull over and knock down a mango from a tree.

A genuine African car ferry. We balked at first...

...but then we went for it.

We just had to take a picture of this school. There's no 3 story building just out of the shot, that is the school.

Finally at one of our destinations. The van almost fell apart on those roads.

Beautiful amenities. Also included was an army of monkeys waking me up every few hours by throwing our dishes around.

Easter morning, 7am. The perfect time for a canoe trip to find some pygmy hippos.

And there they are. They weren't afraid to bellow at us when we got too close.

All smiles. Great time at the park.

The long road home...

This is what's happening

It's been a while since my last post. I hope I didn't leave anyone hanging about the outcome of the last screening day and Ibrahim. He came to the ship and got an x-ray of his foot and spine. I don't know the exact results because Ibrahim just kept saying "I'm fine, I'm fine" and the doctor couldn't tell me because of confidentiality, but I do know he is mostly healed now. We keep in touch a bit still. His daughter will have her surgery in 4 weeks and I can't wait to see the look on their faces when she comes out of the OR with no huge hernia extending from her belly. When that day comes I'll be sure to post some pictures of us. As for me, I am doing much better too. I spoke to several close friends about what happened and they helped me to unpack it all and understand it.

The ship is in full swing now. The ORs are busy cutting, breaking, reforming and stitching. The wards are busy changing dressings, checking vitals and dripping fluids. And me and my team are busy checking cabinets, carrying boxes and labeling things. I can't say enough good things about my team in supply this year. We are getting the job done in better and faster ways than I could have expected. We have a new hospital director this year and we are on our way to becoming a well oiled machine. I have taken on a new role this year as well. In addition to my regular duties in supply, I now coordinate the support areas in the hospital as well. Places like the lab, radiology, pharmacy and that kind of stuff. I am easing into my new responsibilities because supply has kept me extremely busy so far. One of the best parts about the new job is the upgrade in cabin that it comes with. As of today, I live in three man cabin instead of a four man cabin. It doesn't sound like much, but I now have my very own space including a desk and a non-bunk bed. Fantastic.

I despise writing blogs like this one that are purely informative and kind of boring, but there it is. An update was needed and I currently have no emotional energy to put into a proper post.

Ibrahim

We've been docked here in Freetown for just over a week now. So much has happened already. It feels like it's been years. For me and my supply team, the last week has been spent working long and difficult days. We have a short time to get everything set up before surgery begins next Monday and way too much to do in that time. I think I sweat out about 10 gallons in the cargo hold.

I want to mention screening day now. Some of you might have heard about the sad events that took place there. For those who haven't, I'll explain briefly. We set up for a mass screening at the Freetown National Stadium very early Monday morning. There was a huge amount of people wanting to be seen by our surgeons all packed in a small area outside the stadium. Eventually the crowd grew out of our control and there was something of a riot and several people were trampled. There were several injuries of varying degrees and one man was tragically trampled to death. We shut down screening shortly after that and we plan to try again soon.

During this time I was with a patient named Ibrahim. He came to see us yesterday because he wanted us to help his 2 year old daughter who has a terrible umbilical hernia. Shortly before the riot he was pressed up against a large metal door between the crowd and us. The stadium's security personnel suddenly slammed the door shut because the mob was unruly. The mob pushed back on the door with the force of hundreds of desperate people. Ibrahim's foot got trapped in the bottom of the door. I was there pushing on the door with the guards. None of us knew his foot was being crushed because there was too much noise. My heart sunk to my stomach when I finally made out the voice I was hearing on the other side of the door. "FOOT! FOOT! FOOT! FOOT!" It took me a few moments to convince the guards to let loose enough to get Ibrahim's foot out. Several minutes later the door reopened and people were streaming into the stadium, but Ibrahim was not in the first 50 people to come through. I found out later that he was suffering so much pain from the door that was lying on the ground trying not to get stamped on. Eventually I looked over at the door and saw two nurses dragging a man screaming in agony. He was soaked with sweat, more so than I am after a day of containers, and he looked to me like he was going to die. I rushed over to him and tried to pick him up and put him over my shoulder. He was in too much pain for that. Instead he wrapped his arms around my neck, buried his face in my cheek, and wrapped his legs around my body like a young boy would do to his father. I carried him to a safe place where we could get some water and look at his foot. We rested and talked for a long time. He told me about his daughter and showed me a picture of her condition. She has a huge protrusion from the front of her belly extending out a long way. My heart sinks again. At this time screening had ceased because of the riot, but I heard God more clearly than I ever have in my life. "Help this man. Help his daughter. Nothing else matters right now." I ran to find someone above my pay grade who could look at his foot and schedule his daughter for surgery. I took Ibrahim's camera with me to show them. I found someone quickly who could make the decision. After looking at a couple of pictures they said yes. I ran on to find some orthopedic surgeons to examine Ibrahim's foot. I found them quickly too. Even in the chaos I found them sitting and waiting, ready to help the next person who needed them. They came with me to Ibrahim and examined his foot and back. They decided he should come to the ship for an X-ray. He is coming tomorrow morning and I promised him we would fix his foot. His daughter will have her operation early in May when that type of surgery begins. I took Ibrahim to get the yellow patient cards that prove he has been scheduled and that allow him access to the ship. As soon as he saw them he grabbed them and wouldn't let go. I took him a wheelchair to the exit, bribed a motorcycle taxi driver to treat him well and sent him off on his way to go tell his family all about the day and the good and bad news.

I tried to tell him about the door. That I had my shoulder on the other side pushing and crushing his foot. I couldn't do it. When we said goodbye he was smiling and laughing despite his pain and I was smiling and laughing too, but wanting to die on the inside. Ibrahim came seeking healing for his daughter. He had no idea the price he would have to pay to get in and be seen. Our chief medical officer likes to say that all these people just want to be a part of the human race again. Ibrahim was desperate for his daughter to be restored and she will be. So he can smile and laugh and forget his sacrifice for her. What can I possibly say to him? He made me promise to call him when I got back to the ship yesterday because he was concerned about MY safety. Unfathomable.

All these thoughts and emotions are so raw to me right now. What is Jesus doing here? I don't know what his purposes are, but I have been humbled by all this. He is stirring up some things in me I'm not comfortable with. Please pray for Ibrahim, his daughter, and the people here. And please pray for me, I'm having a bit of hard time with all this.

We're here

I'm in Sierra Leone. More on that later...

Sailing games

When you're stuck on a ship in the middle of the ocean for 2+ weeks with the same people, you have to find something to occupy your free time. We have a couple of sailing traditions on the AFM. The following videos and picture give you a little taste of 2 of them.

This is Sock Golf, which involves balled up socks, paper 'holes' taped on walls, and a full 18 hole course spanning 4 decks and the entire length of the ship.


My valiant team of 4 placed third out of more than 30 teams. Not too shabby. These are our closing ceremonies.


We play poker every week on the ship, but during the sail we have a special poker night where we all have to dress up based on a theme. I bet you can guess this sail's theme. Oh, and we play for honor, not cash.

Drills and meetings

Welcome to some of the mundaneness of life on the AFM. We love our drills and meetings.

Fire drill 1


Fire drill 2


Fire drill 3


Hospital meeting (turn up the volume to hear me whispering)

A few random sail vids

Here's another round of videos to check out. Some of them are from a couple of days ago when we hit some rough weather. Things are calmer now. 8 days from Sierra Leone...


A foggy night on Deck 8



Our Gurkhas invade the galley! (google Gurkha if you don't know what that is)



We were watching a movie when all of a sudden...

Cape Town videos

These videos are from the short time we had shore leave in Cape Town. I got a chance to explore the city a tiny bit and get up to the top of Table Mountain (cable car because I'm a wuss). In the video from the top you can see the AFM under my hand as the camera starts to pan. It's the long white boat-looking object.

The waters have calmed a bit now and we are still chugging along toward Freetown. Tonight I played in the worship band, which I've been doing for a couple months now. I had a very negative/bad attitude this morning but singing and playing up there wiped all of that away. I'm reminded of God's unfailing love for me.


Coming into Cape Town



The view from atop Table Mountain

More sail videos

Thanks to Caleb, all the kinks with the video posting have been cleared up. Here's three new ones...

The bridge of the AFM part 1


The bridge of the AFM part 2


One of our many garbage tosses. The paper bag contains only food waste and paper products, which degrade quickly in the ocean. This is the standard practice for all ships once they are far from shore. Don't worry, we aren't contributing to marine pollution.

Well, still no videos yet. I'm trying to figure out the problem and get it solved because the new videos are just piling up. I think I'm at 10 now.

We left Cape Town a few hours ago and we have hit a bit of rough seas. There have been some things crashing over, but overall no major incidents. I'm not seasick at all thankfully. In lieu of the videos, here are some pics of interest...

A signpost in Cape Town. I'm a long way from home...

The infamous bow, from the bridge, on a very calm day.

A cool photo by my friend Maggie.

Me and some friends just before leaving Durban.

Technical Difficulties

Arrgg. I've got 7 new videos that I'd like to post, but the internet is not cooperating. Hopefully tomorrow I'll get it worked out.

Briefly, we made it to Cape Town today. I spent the whole day outside on a bus or on Table Mountain or eating in an outdoor restaurant and I've got the sunburn to prove it. Tomorrow we are backing to rolling along on the Atlantic. Check back tomorrow night. I promise to at least have some pictures posted...

The first sail update

Remember the video blogs from last year? Well they're back. At least for the sail anyway.

We pushed off from the dock in Durban yesterday around noon. After the harbor pilot was lifted by chopper from our top deck we embarked onto the open waters. The engineers have been conducting all kinds of tests to make sure the systems are all working properly and we are golden so far.

Right now our course is set for Cape Town, which is on the opposite side of South Africa. We are going there to have a couple of inspections made and for the final touches to be made on the generators. I hope to get out into the city and see what's good. We will stay for about a day, then it's off to Sierra Leone.

The sail has been great so far. Fairly smooth with almost no problems. Check out these videos to get a look at how things work on the sail. I hope to post a new one daily.


A look at medical supply during sailtime.


The bow. I spend every spare second out here.


Some dolphins I filmed from the bow. Don't worry, they are not in danger, just playing.

Saturdays are for pondering

For the last couple of years there have been two questions swimming around in my head. The answer to these questions has a direct impact on my daily life, but I can't seem to settle on an answer to either one of them. So I decided to post them here and see if anyone of you might have some insight.

The first question is this: Is it better to live everyday with a steady normal pace or to live bouncing between highs and lows? At first it seems obvious that a steady pace is better, but then you miss the emotional and spiritual highs. In my own life these highs can propel me for a long time. But then you get the lows too, so you can understand my dilemma.

The second question is a little more complex: When trying to make a difficult change, is it better to take little steps toward the goal or to just go straight for it. For example, if someone has a goal of running 10 miles every day, is it better to run 1 mile daily for a week then 2 miles and so on, or to just run 10 miles daily? This one also has a deep impact on daily decisions and spiritual matters.

There you have it. I'd love to hear some ideas on these. And for a quick update on the ship - The portion of the crew that was away has moved back aboard now. The generators are on and the AC is struggling to stay on. We will sail to Sierra Leone soon...

Welcome to conference room B

I wish I had a cool cross cultural meaningful story to write about. However, I've been working in the galley for the past few months and there's not much to report. Once when I was peeling carrots there was a carrot that looked like a person with arms and legs. Does that count? Maybe not. I've decided to make this a business like informational type blog entry.

Read the minutes from last time:

-The AFM is in South Africa to have it's generators replaced and some other major electrical work

-Cyle works in the galley because the hospital is not running currently

-Most of the crew has moved off ship to an abandoned college campus

-The ship has no AC because the power generators are in pieces somewhere

-The ship is an oven (think of getting into your car on a sunny summer day)

-We are scheduled to leave SA on January 16th to go to Sierra Leone for the 2011 field service

Any new business?

-The new generators are in and currently being connected and secured

-The departure date has been pushed back to January 30th because of delays in the work

-Cyle has finished work in the galley because it is time to start preparing the hospital for service mode (the hospital deck is currently covered in dirt and oil from all the work)

-Buses filled with crew members come every day to clean the ship and get it ready for sailing and service

-The medical screening process has begun in Sierra Leone, with large turnouts of people who need help

-Cyle is now playing in the worship band on the ship and enjoying having calloused fingers again

Now a word from our chief executive officer:

"Holy Father, guard them as they pursue this life that you conferred as a gift through me, so they can be one heart and mind as we are one heart and mind."

Dismissed.