My life on the ship

Future plans

2011-11-07T22:47:00.002Z

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

2011-08-20T00:52:00.016Z

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

2011-08-12T12:51:00.002Z

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

2011-05-08T23:14:00.011Z

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

2011-04-09T23:25:00.002Z

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

2011-03-08T22:18:00.003Z

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

2011-03-01T01:11:00.001Z

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

Sailing games

2011-02-22T23:19:00.002Z

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

2011-02-20T22:20:00.002Z

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

2011-02-19T23:30:00.002Z

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

2011-02-17T21:50:00.003Z

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

Technical Difficulties

2011-02-13T22:12:00.002Z

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

2011-02-11T20:47:00.003Z

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

2011-01-29T13:44:00.003Z

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

2011-01-11T17:13:00.006Z

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.

Not my usual post

2010-12-17T21:51:00.002Z

I just wrote a very long blog entry that was deep and heady and possibly difficult to follow. I erased it and wrote the following instead because what I think what I want to communicate is simple. I'm going to attempt to clearly share my joy.

Jesus has changed me. He used the friction of colliding worldviews on the ship and in Africa to slowly liquefy my values and beliefs. Then he hit me with a trifecta of methods to hammer home some gospel truths. The methods are his word, the words of other people and a supernatural leading of my thoughts through meaningful experiences to some conclusion. He has replaced some of the most rotten parts of me with fresh flesh. He has taught me things that I can't believe I never knew, things about him, about other people, about the world and about me. He has loved me just like he said he would and just like he loves you.

I don't know how to say it any other way than that. All of the credit and honor goes to God.

Just a quick update

2010-12-03T03:37:00.003Z

Well, if you didn't know you will find out soon enough anyway. I'm in the states. MS flew me to Texas to do some hospital supply preparatory work for next year. I was at the base for 3 weeks and then I flew to VT to surprise my family. I snuck into my parent's house at 1am, camped out on the couch and then woke up early so I could spring the trap. I intended to cook breakfast and have it ready when everyone got up, but I forgot that my dad wakes up super early and he got the drop on me just as I got to the kitchen. I am fully satisfied with the amount of shock and tears that occurred. After thanksgiving I made my way east to Maine and pulled another surprise on my church family. Also satisfying. I've been having a great week catching up with everyone and getting reacquainted with east coast living. Next week I'm heading back to the ship to resume life on board. Vacation in the states is always nice, but I'm looking forward to going back home to Africa.

Listomania (not the song)

2010-11-14T03:52:00.003Z

Things that surprised me about Africa (specifically Togo):

1. Everyone has a cell phone

2. There are no dogs anywhere

3. How much people love to see a white guy acting like an African

4. You can buy movies on the street before they are released in theaters in America

5. Liquor is cheaper than water

6. The beauty of the country

7. Maggots that borrow into your body

8. How a simple joke can diffuse a tense situation

Things I love about the ship:

1. You get to eat every meal every day with people you love

2. Watching day volunteers react to 'ship culture'

3. People will help you with anything you need

4. Getting in a land rover with 9 other people and realizing none of you are from the same country

5. Seeing a sick person enter and a well person exit

6. A 20 second commute to the office

7. Lifeboat drills (sometimes)

8. Having no idea what the next meal is and the surprise when you see it

9. Long talks on deck 8 with people you barely know and with people who are your best friends

Things I miss about home:

1. Having people over and cooking for them

2. Seeing my breath

3. Ordering food at a restaurant without it being an ordeal

4. Helping people move

5. Green grass and tall trees

6. Stopping by someone's house to say hello

7. Grocery shopping

8. Family and friends (of course)

Things I've learned about God in the last year:

1. His kindness leads us to repentance

2. He is always good

3. He works best through a community

4. He breaks down dividing walls

5. He has a personality

6. He presents different sides of himself depending on circumstances

7. He desires my redemption more than I do

Things I used to believe that I no longer do:

1. I'm a pessimist

2. Shame is an appropriate response to sin

3. I need to keep my armor on to avoid getting hurt by people

4. It is difficult for people of different cultures to relate to each other

5. Poor people are always unhappy

6. I will never be truly happy

Things that I hope will happen in 2011:

1. Lots of Sierra Leonese people will get life changing medical care

2. I meet a woman who will become my wife

3. My heart will soften even more for the impoverished

4. The community on the ship will become tighter and less divided

5. I will continue to work on and make progress with my issues of being motivated by power and acceptance

6. Hospital supply become a well oiled machine that never breaks

Reactions that I want you to have to this blog:

1. Wanting to come and work on the ship (if you're not already here)

2. Wanting to experience Africa

3. Wanting to pray for the ship and Sierra Leonese people and me

4. Wanting to discover new things about God

5. Hopefully a smile or at least a pleasant thought or two

An impression of racism in SA written by someone from the whitest state in America whose only been here for 60 days

2010-11-07T01:45:00.006Z

Are people out there still interested in race issues? I'm not sure. I feel like racism just gets tossed around and when people talk about it the conversation goes in circles until you don't want to talk about it anymore. Well, this blog is about racism in South Africa. I don't have any answers about it. I just want to kick it around a little more because race is such a strong issue here.

The history of SA is similar to that of the States. There are indigenous people who have lived somewhere for a long time and European people come in. At first there might be some shaky peace between them, but in both cases there is eventually open war and genocide. The difference is that in the states, the native Americans were all but completely wiped out so that the white people vastly outnumbered them, whereas in SA the indigenous people weren't totally eradicated so they remained the majority. I think that difference has had huge implications down the line for how racism has developed here in SA.

So for decades and decades a white minority ruled over the black majority while slowly solidifying the separation of races. It was subtle at first, then grow more insidious with the dawn of the apartheid regime. Feelings of hatred took root on both sides. The upper class white people stood on the labor of a people that disgusted them and the lower class black people were becoming resentful and restless from being treated like they were something less than human.

Then the world grew up. People everywhere were coming to realize that all humans are equal and SA became a dangerous place of terrorism and secret armies and meetings. The black majority wanted to regain control of the country and they eventually got their way without a massive bloody civil war occurring. They turned SA into a republic and set up a government of their own people. They changed street names from things like Pine St to Masabalala Yengwa Ave. They changed stadium names to honor the heroes of the resistance. They set up affirmative action laws to encourage white-owned businesses to hire black people. They took down signs that said "Whites only." And what happened?

The white people still said "Take a left onto Pine St." They said "Let's go to the rugby match at Durban stadium." The white business owners took their companies to more stable countries. The 'whites only' areas are still for whites only, it just isn't clearly marked anymore. Durban proper is filled with Zulu and Indian peoples. Outer Durban is white country. When I walk downtown I am often the only white person around. All of the neighborhoods here belong to a race. If I make plans to go to a restaurant in a certain part of town I already know what color everyone there will be.

The white people are afraid. They all think that someday not too far away they will completely lose the country to black people. They chatter on and on about the neighboring country of Zimbabwe where the black people took control and forced all of the white people out and now the place is a total wasteland. They feel that they aren't adequately represented in the government and most of them simply reminisce about the good old days 20 years ago.

The black people are afraid. They all think that someday not too far away they will lose all of the big white-owned companies that power the economy. They chatter on and on about the neighboring country of Zimbabwe where the white people moved all the industry away and now the place is a total wasteland. They feel that things aren't really much different now and most of them simply wonder what things would be like if those European ships never landed in Cape Town.

There is a billboard not far from the ship that has two pictures on it. On the left there are naked black women carrying baskets on their heads wading through a muddy river that looks like it's straight out of National Geographic. On the right there is a group of black people bundled up in warm clothing crossing a walking bridge in cold weather in some city. Then the text underneath reads "Things are better now". The irony is that only a couple of kilometers away from that billboard there is an overpass where hundreds of homeless black people scrounge for food and sleep under newspaper and cardboard. The place is easily visible on the way back from a favorite restaurant of us who live on the ship. On more than one occasion I've gone out with friends, enjoyed great conversations and beautiful views of the harbor and sky and nice food and drink, then drove back passing a community of barrel fires and shivering women and hungry bellies.

The world hasn't grown up quite enough. This is a broken place. One person hates another because his distant ancestor wronged the other's. The God that I know can't stand division and deeply desires restoration. There it is again. All my blogs are about it these days. Restoration, redemption, unity, humans loving humans. As I write this I search for some hope of racial reconciliation. Not just for SA, but for this whole globe. It eludes me. I wish I could wrap up this blog in a nice little bow with a statement about how things are moving forward and people are changing. I can't conjure it now. Here's the best that I have: There is an infinitely powerful being whose priority is the restoration of everything that exists.

I want to ride a zebra

2010-10-22T14:34:00.003Z

Normally at this time of day my thoughts are of sending food to the dining room, scrubbing floors, cleaning counters and doing dishes. Not today though. It's a three day weekend off from the galley. Booyah.

My and my fellow galley teammates spent most of the day at a place called Tala Game Reserve. It's only a 40 minute drive from the ship and it hosts many of the animals you might think of when you picture Africa. No predators. Except for a few mercy shippers with cameras. I posted the best pics on fb page. Go ahead and check them out. Feel free to friend request me too because that is where most of my pics will go. Anyway, blah blah blah.. enough about facebook.

You get to tour the park in your car which you are strictly instructed to remain in at all times. That lasted about 7 minutes. Sometimes you have to get out to see the best stuff. Like a big mama hippo with two babies. What impressed me mostly was how comfortable most of the animals were with us getting very close to them. At one point we had to shoo an ostrich off the road to keep going. Even the rhinos were ok with me standing pretty close to them. These huge powerful animals with deadly sharp appendages acted just like cows. Quietly grazing while we snapped photo after photo. We all were enticed by the comfort the animals showed and we all wanted to get closer and closer to them. Maybe we could pet an ostrich. Maybe we could ride a zebra. Of course not. Although the animals are used to people gawking at them, there remains an ancient lack of trust for man. It is our fault after all.

I like to imagine that every animal knows how life is supposed to be. They have some distant memory of the perfection of Eden and they resent humanity for messing it all up. They want to just all get along again. The rhinos know that they wouldn't need the horn for protection and the wildebeest know they wouldn't need the speed if only we had stayed strong. I believe all of creation is desperate for restoration. Humans too, but I think we just can't really identify our desire sometimes. I'm always wishing that my relationships didn't collapse so easily, that I could show love to everyone I meet, that there wouldn't be so much injustice out there. The time is coming. No, it's here. The kingdom is here. The ethic of Jesus is present and slowly redeeming this place. Broken hearts are being restored every day. I know this because he restores me continually.

A few pics

2010-10-16T20:28:00.003Z

Nothing earth-shattering here. I just wanted to show some pictures of the current state of the ship and my work in the galley...

A pretty typical day in the galley.

Happily slicing bacon for Sunday's breakfast.

Totally under the ship. There are hundreds of those blocks holding the ship up.

The AFM in dry dock.

Standing next to one of two of the ship's propellers. The gray stuff is all barnacles.

The Return

2010-10-15T22:15:00.008Z

I'm embarrassed. How long has it been? May 12? Yikes. Sorry to leave people hanging there.

Yes, I'm still alive. Yes, I'm still on the ship. Yes, I'm still in Africa. Things have certainly changed since my last update though. Let me start several months ago in Togo...

The Who What Where When

The end of Togo was marked by one word for me: burnout. Only 5 months in and I was having a tough time remembering what it was all about and why God put me here. The constant grind of different cultures colliding, the ever-present group of people, the stress of my job, and the homesickness. Ok, I'm not going to beat myself up too much for being burned out. The truth is that most of the people on the ship were going through the same thing as me. I discovered that towards the end of the outreach my job gets exponentially busier. Mainly because we were packing up the hospital for the long sail to South Africa and when you're the guy responsible for all the supplies, that's a tremendous amount of work. We got through it though. Didn't even have any box avalanches during the sail.

Despite the rough times, Togo was a fantastic outreach, both personally and for the ship. I've been trying and trying to find some stats about how many people were helped, but I've been unsuccessful so far. It's a lot people. There are some great patient stories in the same place where they keep the stats. My next update will contain all that information. Scroll down to the 'deeper' section to read about why Togo was great.

Early in August life was moving at 100mph and then we set sail and brakes came on. Ah, the sail. Nothing is quite as good for decompression than being in the middle of the Atlantic, sky full of stars, waves breaking on the bow, and friends to watch movies with. It was exactly what I needed after a hard two months of work. I didn't sit around the whole time. I worked in the galley (kitchen) every other day chopping vegetables and trying not to slide across the floor and crash into an oven. I think if you haven't been on a ship in the ocean you can't really understand what it feels like to constantly be moving side to side. On a calm day, it's kind of relaxing. On a rough day, it can make life very interesting. We hit the tail end of a storm off the coast on Angola about half way through the journey and at times it felt like we were going to tip over. It was fun as long as you weren't trying to actually do something. Like eating, sleeping, working, or sitting. I fell out of my bed a few times during the rough days.

Eventually we rounded the Cape of Good Hope and crossed over into the Indian Ocean. We saw lots of whales, dolphins, and seals off the coast of the bottom of South Africa. A few days after that we arrived in Durban. The harbor is quite large, and we had to have a pilot lowered down from a helicopter to steer us into the exact spot where we were to dock. My first impression of Durban was that it looked like a real city, complete with tall buildings, paved roads, and traffic lights (called robots here). Soon after docking, 75% of the crew, not including me moved off the ship to an abandoned college campus up in the mountains 90 minutes away.

I should probably mention the whole reason why we are even in South Africa right now. The ship is undergoing some pretty significant repairs. They are replacing all the generators and updating the engine room controls, among many other smaller projects. The ship is currently in dry dock, which means we are resting on some blocks and completely out of the water. The work will last until early January and then we will set sail again to Sierra Leone, where we will spend a big chunk of 2011. The hospital is not running right now, so my job has changed a little bit. I work full time in the galley, making food for the technical crew that lives on board. I can say that it is not quite as fulfilling as working in the hospital, but the work is necessary and temporary, so I am enjoying it. That's it for the details of what's going on. Read on to the good bits...

The Deeper Stuff

I learned a lot in Togo. Well, more accurately, I learned that I don't really know anything about the world and the poor and especially how to serve the poor. I tried some different methods. I thought if I can just speak to them about the gospel and Jesus, that must be the answer. Nope. Most of the people don't speak English and the ones that did knew the gospel better than I did. Then I tried just loving them. Showing them kindness, being generous, trying to help with their situations. Nope again. They didn't want my help. Another contributer to my burnout. I found myself constantly asking the question "How am I supposed to help these people?"

Before I go any further I want to write a bit about the mindset of poverty. Many of you may not know what I mean when I say that because you don't see it very often in the states, although it is prevalent there too. It seems that when poverty resides in a place for generation after generation, a certain way of thinking is adopted. The bottom line of the mentality is that there is nothing outside of an impoverished life. It is not a situation where young people are dreaming about better things and failing to achieve them. It is a situation of no dreams at all. No hope. No belief in change or anything better. Not even a desire for anything better. This is how the people of Togo lived everyday of their lives. Most of the people I met had enough money to eat, get to work, buy clothing, and recharge their cell phone with overpriced minutes. But they were living in poverty.

This poverty mindset is so destructive. It's like strong armor that everyone wears. They learn not to hope for anything because they've been continually oppressed and let down. They are shielded from human connections for that reason. I have not yet been able to get through that armor with anyone who wears it. I have never seen anyone pierce it. That is how powerful and deeply rooted it is here. When I dwell on all this for too long I sometimes start to despair. It is overwhelming.

The motto of MS is "Bringing hope and healing". I like it, but I think "Bringing hope through healing" would be better. The best thing about this organization is that it provides hope for people trapped in the prison of poverty. I think the whole point of the ship is broadcast the message "You can't see? God wants you to look at this world. You can't go out into public? God wants you to have human relationships. You are close to death? God wants to breath life into you. Look. God still redeems people. There is hope." The message gets through. I've seen the look on patients faces when they see themselves for the first time after surgery. I've seen the reaction of families when the patients go home restored. I've seen the response of hundreds of children when they notice that the kid who legs were backwards are now correct and he's playing football. That is what cuts through the poverty armor. It's the love of Jesus, clearly displayed by simple surgeries. I believe in that. I trust in that. And that's why I work hard to make sure that when a nurse reaches over for a syringe, it is there. I want to pour myself into this hospital because it matters. It actually truly makes a difference.

I am an African vampire

2010-05-12T18:07:00.002Z

Cool title, right? This entry is about last night, which I spent driving around looking for blood in Lome.

I was watching a movie with some friends last night at around 9pm. This is a pretty common thing. We all decide at dinner that we are too tired to do anything active and too 'missionary broke' to go out into town. Someone suggests a movie and we all jump on board. We overturn some tables in a conference room, gather our best pillows and blankets, and pack tightly together so we can all see the 15" laptop screen. We are still in selection phase when my pager goes off.

The number says '1700' and I start getting a little nervous because that's the extension for my boss's office. He's the hospital manager and he usual has far better things to do than page me on a Tuesday night. I tell my friends to shut up and pick up the nearest phone. My boss sounds a bit rushed as he says "I need a cooler to transport blood." When I inquire further he explains that we have a patient in surgery that has tumors all over her face. She has already used 13 units of blood and she's only half done.

I hang up the phone and walk briskly down to the hospital, which is only two decks down from the conference room/movie theater. I find a suitable cooler and pack it with ice, using a method taught to my by friend Tommy who used to be a professional blood cooler packer for the Red Cross. When it's all ready I swing by my boss's office and offer to go with him to help out. He gladly accepts. We grab a Togolese surgeon to show us the good spots to get the blood and we all hop in the car with me in the driver's seat. The surgeon directs me to where to go. The further we get from the ship, the more I'm feeling like a blood cell myself. I start at the heart and get pumped down roads, which at first are like wide well paved arteries, but gradually narrow like capillaries the further we go.

We turn around a corner in the middle of nowhere and the surgeon instructs me to pull over. I ask him where he means and he points to a small run down building with a 25 watt light out front. We jump out and wheel the cooler through the door and the surgeon has a brief dialog in the local tongue with a woman there. The only phrase I'm able to make out is 'B positive' and I realize that this is in fact a blood bank. 'B+' blood is a big problem on the ship. This is a common blood type in Africa, but unfortunately most of the crew is not from Africa and our 'A' blood doesn't do much good. The poor 40 or so crew members who are from West Africa get bled as often as is allowable. I'm told that the face is very vascular which means removal of tumors from it requires a lot of blood to be given. Our mission is to get as much 'B+' as we can.

The blood bank lady disappears for a moment and then produces a black trash bag. We look inside and find a single bag of cold red blood marked with a giant 'B+'. Success. However, one unit of blood isn't enough. We load the cooler up again and start off for some other destination that my Togolese friend has in mind. We drive over the worst roads I've ever been on. Far worse than mud ruts during a Vermont spring. We pass over the worst of it and the surgeon turns to me and tells me that I've become a real Togolese man now. Double success. We eventually get to an area that the surgeon finds familiar. We pull along side a random man and after a flurry of words I don't understand I'm told we have to turn around and go down an alley. This process is repeated three times before we arrive at a second blood bank.

This one is well lit and well kept. The attending blood banker invites us inside and we are made to sit on some chairs and wait. When the guard sees the sweat pouring down my head he smiles a bit mockingly and flips on a nearby fan. I utter 'merci' to the best of my ability and that same smile flashes again. After a long time, the blood banker reappears with a promising looking trash bag. We peer inside and discover 4 blood packs. We are thrilled. 5 units of 'B+' is a mighty haul. When we are all packed up, I drive back to the ship a little too quickly. The bumps are bad at slow speeds, but at fast speeds are quite painful and I think I may have lost my newly gained status.

I carry the cooler up the two flight gangway stairs onto the ship and then down two flights to the hospital, muttering about the inefficiency of all that. I bring it straight to the lab for testing before they send it coursing through the veins of the woman under the knife. They are 10 times more thrilled to see it than we were. The three lab techs had already worked a full day and they knew they would be in for a full night too. They used all five units that night and successfully removed the tumors from the left side of the woman's face. Surgery lasted until 2am. She is doing well and will recover for a while before they attempt the right side of her face.

I have never had a job more fulfilling than this one. Yes, I know that if I didn't answer the page last night my boss would have found a cooler and gotten the blood anyway, but that doesn't really matter. What matters is that I had some small part in the healing of a person. I witnessed the partial restoration of a human back to the way she was created to be. So thanks to all those who enable me to be here. And thanks to those who are here with me. And thanks to Jesus who loves Africa more than I could imagine.

Life in Lome

2010-04-19T18:22:00.002Z

Living on a ship with 400 other people makes one crave solitude. I was jonesing for some real bad about a week ago.

I thought "Deck 8? Nah, there's always someone up there. The dock? Nah, people pass by there all the time. Town? Sounds great." So I grabbed my laptop and and a good book and begin walking through the port away from the ship. The Africa Mercy enjoys a private dock with gates and security guards. It hardly feels like a busy port in Africa. But after walking for two minutes you remember exactly where you are. People are everywhere. In the port it is all young men. They work 12+ hours a day unloading cargo ships. Well, in reality they are just in the port for 12 hours a day. Everything shuts down from 1-3pm for a siesta. It's too hot to work during those times.

Within 5 minutes of walking I escape the port. There is a fleet of Zemidjans (small motorcycle taxis) waiting for a fare. They all stare at me hopefully. Probably planning exactly how the haggling process will proceed. I approached one and manage to communicate my destination. The Boulevard. He instructs me to sit down, but I wasn't born yesterday. You have to decide the price before you get moving. I ask him "How much?" in the worst French imaginable. He wants 2000 CFA ($4). I haggle him down to 1000 CFA. A local man would've paid 100 CFA for the ride, but I'm white, so that's just how it goes.

The ride is long and dusty. The Togolese government is borrowing money from Nigeria to pay for the reconstruction of the beach road. By the time we get to AKIF, you can barely tell I'm a white man under all the dirt on my face. AKIF is a cool place. It sells the best burgers in town. A little pricey, but it's worth the occasional taste of beef. I order this huge monstrosity that I can barely finish. The meat is spicy and every burger includes a fried egg and a lot of cabbage. While I'm eating and reading my book a man approaches me and offers some bootleg DVDs. I politely refuse, but he is persistent. He is convinced that I must be interested in a pack that contains every Angelina Jolie film ever made. Eventually I just ignore him. I stay a while longer and then remember that I brought my laptop and I decide to head to my favorite spot. A reasonably priced restaurant with free wifi.

I should mention what the 'Boulevard' is. It's a busy divided road that encompasses the downtown portion of Lome. It's the best place to go for local life. Always crowded, always open, and full of shops and restaurants. AKIF is on the eastern end and my favorite place is on the western side. Walking down the Boulevard as a white man is like being a worm lowered into a fish hatchery. Everyone wants a piece of you. The vendors hiss to get my attention and they shout "Grand Blanc Joe!" (big white Joe). I bump into people and manage to dodge the open sewers and Zemidjans rushing by. It takes me about an hour to reach the restaurant and I soak up all the local color along the way. One man stops me and informs that he is diabetic and that he has just run out of insulin. I point to a lit red cross (pharmacy) a few blocks away and say "If we go there, I will buy you some insulin." Just then he remembers that he left a few vials at home.

The waitress at the restaurant recognizes me now and she is always trying to teach me some French because mine is awful. She knows very little English so we don't get far. I pop open my laptop and immediately begin downloading some music. We can't do that on the ship, so when I get a chance I like to catch up on the latest albums. The customers at most restaurants are a mix of richer Togolese and white people, usually French. The people watching is superb. There are a couple of young attractive white girls a few tables away and I listen as some young Togolese men ask for their hands in marriage. I can tell they haven't been here long because they are shocked and embarrassed. A nurse friend of mine has counted 50+ proposals since February. The men know that white fathers don't require a dowry.

After I pay my bill I wander around looking for a Zemidjan to take me back to the ship. It's late and we have a curfew. I'm about 15km from the ship now, so I just offer 1000 CFA straight away and the driver tries to hide a smile. The ride home in the dark is easily the best part of my day. We zoom down the beach road, the wind blowing my thin hair and evaporating the sweat on my skin. On the right there are palm trees swaying with the dark ocean as a backdrop. On the left there are people, hotels, shops and Africa. On the long ride I think about why I'm here. My job is to make sure that the hospital has everything they need to provide the best care possible. My goal is to love every person I come into contact with. My heart is for the poor and needy. My vision is the redemption of relationships between people, nations, earth and Jesus.

By the time I'm on board again, my focus is restored and I wonder how I ever lost it to begin with.

A bit of bad news

2010-04-18T21:07:00.002Z

Me and some friends got mugged today in broad daylight on a busy beach. No one was hurt, but they took my camera. I know I haven't been too punctual with my video blogs but now it looks like they will cease altogether. I think it was good while it lasted. I hope you all can muster the resolve to read a text blog. I will try to get some pictures from friends so it won't be all words from now on. I definitely have some stories I've been meaning to write about so you can expect those soonish.

How am I doing?

2010-03-30T10:39:00.002Z

I'm feeling great. I'm back at work and back to my normal self. I'm grateful for all of the prayers and kind thoughts.

Update 5 - Deck 8

2010-03-27T22:36:00.001Z

More illness

2010-03-23T18:15:00.002Z

My video blog is quickly becoming a sickness reporting blog. I've been down for the last 5 days with what I just found out to be amoebic dysentery. I'm on some antibiotics now and I'm doing ok. I think my body is finally starting to win its intestinal battle. Thanks for all your thoughts and prayers. I'll be posting a video update as soon as I can.

Adventures in malaria pills

2010-03-16T18:21:00.000Z

I don't want to get malaria, but I'm starting to think that the preventative medication is worse than the illness. I've been taking one kind of pill called Doxy for the last month. I guess the little bacteria in my intestines are very fragile, because they immediately die off with every dose. No bacteria=no digestion. Need I say more? No more Doxy for me.

So yesterday I started taking a different kind call Lariam. Google it. Read all about the side effects. They weren't exaggerating. Last night I had nightmares the likes of which I had never even imagined. When I woke up at various times I found myself hallucinating zombies and terrible things. It's funny now, but last night I wasn't laughing. I was praying and sweating. I was even singing to try to keep the fear at bay. I slept with the light on all night. No more Lariam for me.

Today is a new day though. There aren't any zombies around that I can see. I'm about to go to the first meeting of a small group I started. God is good. If you are willing and able, please pray that I will have a better night tonight. Thanks.

Update 4 - My Cabin

2010-03-14T22:58:00.000Z

New video soon...I hope

2010-03-14T16:27:00.000Z

I seem to be having some technical difficulties here with uploading new update videos. I haven't given up yet, though.

update coming

2010-03-08T15:40:00.000Z

Sorry for the delay. I've been sick for the past few days. I will try to get another video up today.

Update 3 - Hospital Central Supply

2010-02-27T16:27:00.002Z

A video critique

2010-02-21T03:19:00.000Z

I didn't realize how unhappy and uncomfortable I look in this video. Don't worry, it was just the hot and bright sun. I actually do like it here.

Update 2 - The Dock

2010-02-20T14:54:00.000Z