Oh my gosh, how to begin... I was in rare form today. I wish I meant that in a good way. I arrived late to the ward because of transportation issues. This felt weird and made for a shorter day. There were LOTS of laboring women and it had been a crazy, busy night so the beds were full of new mamas and babies. Blood and rubbish everywhere and lots of wailing from the youngest present.
All of this is really not that unusual so I'm not sure why I felt so off my rocker but I could not pull it together. All. Day.
For one, I was unable to comfort anyone. Either they weren't interested in a back rub (Um, what?) or I couldn't persuade them to try different positions, walk or even stand. If a mama wanted water, I didn't have it for her and had to go find some. If I had water and offered it, she wasn't interested. If I could be in the way, I was in the way. Literally, around every corner, I was rushing to move my body so that I wouldn't collide with something or someone. I tried to anticipate needs only to be told that what I was doing or getting wasn't right. I asked too many questions and some were ignored. I splashed bloody water all over my foot and leg.
I was the proverbial "bull in a china shop."
One darling midwife, whom I almost never get to see, came up to me at the beginning of her shift, called me by name, gave me a hug and told be how happy she was to see me. In response, I called her by the wrong name and in my horrible attempt to explain myself (in a language that I am still learning), I told her she looked like a "boob." A BOOB!! I ask you, now who's the boob?? Oh my gosh. My red face and burning ears added to my humiliation and I just wanted to die. The poor thing just smiled at me and looked really confused but thankfully, not offended.
At some point during the day, I rushed off to the tea room, shut the door, leaned against the wall and deep-breathed for a few minutes. I also asked the Lord for mercy. It was after this that I left the back rubbing and birth education to my cohort and stuck to mopping and changing linens.
I think things can only go up from here. That's what I'm telling myself tonight each time I relive the boob conversation. *palm to forehead*
In other news: I named the resident tea room rat, "Oscar." It seems a fitting name for such a cheeky fellow.
Showing posts with label culture stress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label culture stress. Show all posts
Saturday, 30 August 2014
Monday, 27 January 2014
O, For the Joy of It!
Culture stress is real. I'd heard about it before I came over here, to the far side of the world, but I didn't really consider how it would feel. I didn't count on it being so hard.
I was given some language and culture lessons upon my arrival but then was left to figure out a lot on my own. People have always been available to answer questions but there are days, even still, where I feel like I'm stumbling in the dark and offending, or in the very least, confusing everyone I come in contact with. For this girl, that is very distressing and it makes me want to stay indoors and browse facebook and look at pictures of the "comfortable" times.
This however, is not constructive and will never lead me to learn anything or ever become confident in my new surroundings.
I'm ashamed to admit it but on my especially culturally-stressful days, I feel distrustful and self-protective. It's ugliness and I know it. I know it even as it's spilling forth from my heart.
Enter, the haus sik.
Talk about a place that breeds culture stress. Little to nothing is like the health facilities at home. From the lack of medical supplies and adequate staffing to the archaic methods and the practices dictated by centuries-old spiritual beliefs, it's a lot to take in, let alone process effectively.
The ministry at the haus sik came along during a time when I was really wrestling with yet another change. I had just left a very, very busy job in an emergency room where I knew my job and I did it well. Above all, I Ioved the patient care and in the ER, I had a LOT of it.
When I came to this little mission base, my work load diminished a great deal and patient care became a thing of the past and I grieved it - deeply. But, this was all a part of God's perfect plan to develop my trust and prune me; to make me more like His Son.
In my grieving I heard about the ministry at the haus sik and the opportunity to train as a doula. And if you've been following, you know the rest.
But this is what strikes me and leads me to stand in awe before the Lord...
I am at home in the haus sik. I walk into that ward and I feel this unbelievable sense of belonging. This doesn't make any logical sense which can mean only one thing - that it is a gracious gift from the Lord. He didn't owe it to me - in fact, He owes me nothing, but He gave from His love for me.
In addition, something beautiful happens when I'm at the haus sik. I see these vulnerable women simply for who they are; mothers, sisters, wives. I don't know their pasts, how they behave around others or if they're honest and upstanding citizens. Suddenly, all of those things no longer matter. All I know is that they are in labor, in pain and need the comfort and emotional support of another. This just disintegrates all of that scary culture stress and leaves me marveling at the One who will glorify Himself regardless of anything I do or say and yet, He lets me be a part of what He's already doing among those mamas. It makes me want to jump up and down! It makes me want to sing at the top of my lungs for the joy of it!
Those tender moments of comforting a woman or the sweet ones when presenting a newborn to the waiting family cause me to draw closer to the Creator who makes those things possible. How can I put into words His goodness?!
I know that I have so much (SO MUCH) left to learn about my surroundings and the people that I live in community with and I wish I could say that I have embraced it all and loved everyone without question, but I can't. However, I can say with confidence that my Mighty God, my Gentle Shepherd, continues to lead me and loves me so deeply that He won't leave me where I am. And that is a great source of comfort.
I was given some language and culture lessons upon my arrival but then was left to figure out a lot on my own. People have always been available to answer questions but there are days, even still, where I feel like I'm stumbling in the dark and offending, or in the very least, confusing everyone I come in contact with. For this girl, that is very distressing and it makes me want to stay indoors and browse facebook and look at pictures of the "comfortable" times.
This however, is not constructive and will never lead me to learn anything or ever become confident in my new surroundings.
I'm ashamed to admit it but on my especially culturally-stressful days, I feel distrustful and self-protective. It's ugliness and I know it. I know it even as it's spilling forth from my heart.
Enter, the haus sik.
Talk about a place that breeds culture stress. Little to nothing is like the health facilities at home. From the lack of medical supplies and adequate staffing to the archaic methods and the practices dictated by centuries-old spiritual beliefs, it's a lot to take in, let alone process effectively.
The ministry at the haus sik came along during a time when I was really wrestling with yet another change. I had just left a very, very busy job in an emergency room where I knew my job and I did it well. Above all, I Ioved the patient care and in the ER, I had a LOT of it.
When I came to this little mission base, my work load diminished a great deal and patient care became a thing of the past and I grieved it - deeply. But, this was all a part of God's perfect plan to develop my trust and prune me; to make me more like His Son.
In my grieving I heard about the ministry at the haus sik and the opportunity to train as a doula. And if you've been following, you know the rest.
But this is what strikes me and leads me to stand in awe before the Lord...
I am at home in the haus sik. I walk into that ward and I feel this unbelievable sense of belonging. This doesn't make any logical sense which can mean only one thing - that it is a gracious gift from the Lord. He didn't owe it to me - in fact, He owes me nothing, but He gave from His love for me.
In addition, something beautiful happens when I'm at the haus sik. I see these vulnerable women simply for who they are; mothers, sisters, wives. I don't know their pasts, how they behave around others or if they're honest and upstanding citizens. Suddenly, all of those things no longer matter. All I know is that they are in labor, in pain and need the comfort and emotional support of another. This just disintegrates all of that scary culture stress and leaves me marveling at the One who will glorify Himself regardless of anything I do or say and yet, He lets me be a part of what He's already doing among those mamas. It makes me want to jump up and down! It makes me want to sing at the top of my lungs for the joy of it!
Those tender moments of comforting a woman or the sweet ones when presenting a newborn to the waiting family cause me to draw closer to the Creator who makes those things possible. How can I put into words His goodness?!
I know that I have so much (SO MUCH) left to learn about my surroundings and the people that I live in community with and I wish I could say that I have embraced it all and loved everyone without question, but I can't. However, I can say with confidence that my Mighty God, my Gentle Shepherd, continues to lead me and loves me so deeply that He won't leave me where I am. And that is a great source of comfort.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)