(Stephanie Williams) The other day, I asked Maggie (the senior Nurse-midwife and resident partner-in-crime) why so many of the women chose to deliver at home instead of coming to the clinic. Her answer was particular and I have to admit I wasn’t sure what to think.

She explained that when it comes time for a woman to deliver, the husband insists she deliver at home. She has little choice. But it was the reasoning behind it that caught me off guard.  She explained that here, a traditional midwives’ job aside from delivering the baby, is to illicit a ‘childbirth confessional’. Apparently, while the woman is in transition and especially as she gets ready to push, the midwife will yell at her. She will tell her that the labor is taking long because she slept with a man other than her husband. “Confess and you will deliver! Whose baby is this?!”

At first, I had to laugh at such a thought. It couldn’t be. Sure, promiscuity is the norm in this culture but really? Most woman I’ve seen in the pushing stage don’t have time to think, let alone make an intelligible sentence. So, I put it in the back of my mind to think about another day.

Then Bith came to the clinic to deliver.

She was a young mother expecting her fifth child and was evidently poor but oh so sweet and happy to be having her baby. She labored quietly and powerfully throughout the day and then barged into my prenatal visit sweating and ready to push. Not long after, she was squatting on the prenatal bed pushing with all her might.

She asked for her friend to come in and help with the pushing. Naturally! Her friend acted as a doula of sorts and immediately started massaging her back and encouraging her. “Chol! Push! Apathe Pei! Good work!” Everything was going well. Then all of the sudden the tone of her voice changed. It sounded like she was yelling at her.

I asked my mighty, mighty translator, Natali, to let me know what she was saying. He said that she was yelling at her to confess. Huh? “Whose baby is it? Who did you sleep with?” Yes. You guessed it. I was stuck in the middle of a ‘Childbirth Confessional’.

Naturally, Bith ignored her words and pushed with all her might. I, however, got all up in her business and told her to stop yelling such nonsense. I affirmed that the birth was not taking any time at all and that everything was very normal. This silenced her. She actually seemed happy to hear it.

No confession came but a  beautiful baby girl was born minutes later – sweet and sleepy and calm.

We started today off with Suzy giving her testimony at devotion.  Some of you reading this may be familiar, but it sure was new and inspirational to me.  In a nutshell, it was her personal version of amazing grace and the radical turning around of her life after she heard God calling to her.  To me, this message was one of utmost optimism and hope because I know that I’ve got many flaws that I would like to change about myself and things that I am not particularly pleased with myself over.  It was uplifting to have Suzy remind us all that God wants each and every one of us, no matter what the state our lives.

Life at the clinic is still one of new learning opportunities and offering ourselves in different ways to help the patients we see.  From a medical student’s perspective (like my brother John and mine), this experience continues to be quite the dream summer.  We see things in the clinic here that I certainly haven’t yet seen in my education so far.  My brother and I helped to treat a bad hyena bite, I cared for someone who was bitten by a poisonous spider, and I watched as the clinical director removed a worm from one patient’s leg.  Some of these are even things that I likely will not experience during my 4 years of medical education in America (which makes this exciting stuff for a med school nerd like me)!  In addition to the unique cases that we see here, I’m learning skills that I will not be formally trained in for another year or two back in the states.  This week, I sutured up my first wound, placed my first i.v. line, and gave my first intramuscular injections.  My brother John and I joke that we should save our money by holding off on our next 3 years at school and just staying here for a a few years, since we’re both learning at such a wildly accelerated rate.  The attached picture is of Richard and John, two of the awesome interpreters that we rely on daily in the clinic.  I think they’ll be very excited when they hear that their handsome image will be posted in cyberspace (I’m already anticipating being able to give them the good news tomorrow morning).

Last Saturday, we went to the market here in Tonj, which is essentially a collection of small huts selling different types of goods.  Some merchants sell clothing, others food, others doo-dads and knick-knacks and what-have-you’s.  This was quite a fun and novel experience for a bunch of Americans like us, who really don’t have anything to compare this to in the States.  For one, everything is bargained for (and we had the distinct impression that the starting asking price for a given good was jacked waaaaay up when they saw folks looking like us stroll up to make a purchase).  Another unusual thing was the hustle and bustle that breathes life into the market.  Kids running around, merchants trying to corral you into their hut, and even motorcycles riding through all contributed to a real vibrant (and distinctly un-American) shopping experience.

Hello from Tonj again.  We just finished our first entire week here, and are enjoying the weekend again.  Suzie and Sabet gave us a bit of history today on how In Deed and Truth came to be what it is today.  One particular phrase really struck a chord with me.  I might be a little bit off, but the gist was this: we are not here to die for a bandaid.  In their 11 years of serving southern Sudan, they have both certainly put their lives in danger, especially considering the various other places this world they could surely call home.  So in their eyes, it’s got to be worth it.

Though IDAT serves the community in an immediate way by administering health care, this is not the focal point of the ministry.  For if the clinic were to disappear tomorrow, sickness would surely persist.  They strive for a more lasting and elemental effect.  At the heart, I think it should be our goal to leave a footprint that will not wash away when high water comes, and Suzy and Sabet have certainly done much to this end.  Primarily, they accomplish this by bring the message of Jesus to the people.  By looking to plant this seed in hearts, minds, and souls, the many changes it can bring to people’s lives can outlast any medicine prescription ever will.  It can be spread from person to person, making each subsequent generation see God and his creation differently than the previous one.

Additionally, there are other programs I have seen in my short time here that favor true change over bandaids.  One obvious example is the medical training we share with a staff of young Sudanese men.  They come to work and learn 6 out of the 7 days a week, and in return for their work, they obtain real world clinical knowledge and hands-on experience, among other valuable skills.  And recently, we have begun serving a village about 45 minutes away from Tonj with healthcare services.  But again, the bandaid is not the point.  Though we do administer healthcare, there is also a representative from this village who has begun an integrated medical training with us, so that he may take this education back to the village.  Again, lasting solutions.

Those are my thoughts from today.  Thanks for reading, and see you in a week!

John Lazar

(Stephanie Williams) Last Saturday, I was woken at 11pm for a birth. Maggie (the other Nurse-midwife) knocked loudly on my door and startled me awake. I got dressed quickly in the dark, searching clumsily for my flashlight.

When I arrived at the clinic, I met Awein and her husband. She was definitely in labor with contractions coming every 5 minutes or less. But when I did an IE she was only 5 cm along. Yet, this was her fourth baby and I knew she wouldn’t be long.

Maggie went back to bed with instructions to wake her when things were farther along. Awein told me she wanted to deliver on the floor, but it’s so dirty we settled on delivering on the bed in a squatting position. She was bright eyed and seemed at ease. When the contractions got stronger, she made faces instead of noise.

It wasn’t a half an hour later when she arched her back and started pushing. I tried to get her to stop thinking she wouldn’t be fully but… well… she wasn’t listening. And everything I said, had to go through Victor my translator (who I later learned had never seen a birth before!). She pushed strong and mighty and I realized we’d have a baby soon.

I sent Victor to get Maggie back at the compound and Awien kept pushing. A precious little boy was born a few short minutes later along with a wave of amniotic fluid and blood. I should have worn gum boots as each step made a splash. Such is birth when you have no linens.

They named him CHOK and he weighed a whopping 2500 grams.

The ice age has come to Sudan. We woke up Monday morning to the chilling temperature of 70° Fahrenheit. The locals brought out their beanies and ski clothes (I wish I was exaggerating) to take on the coldest weather of the year. Roles were reversed and suddenly it was my thick North American blood that was helping me to adjust to the local weather.

Monday brought us a full load of patients to the clinic here in Tonj as well. We saw a total of 130 patients. We’re all settling into our roles in the clinic much more comfortably this week. I’ve been manning the registration table with my Sudanese partner Marco. I’ve become the lord of the thermometer and have about five different strategies for determining the weight of a screaming baby. I’m even learning some basic triage.

Outside of the clinic, we had our first weekend in Tonj. Sunday was a great day of attending church here on the compound with the entire staff and many of the other NGO workers here in Tonj. Sunday afternoon we had a picnic out on the river valley. I snapped the shot below of my roommate Daniel having some fun with Dut, our resident security guard. Lots of football to be watched too – we’ve got six different nationalities represented here and national pride was high during the Germany vs. England and USA vs. Ghana matches.

Last Friday, Africa got the best of me for a day. I woke up at 5 am and unfortunately proceeded to vomit the entire contents of my stomach back into the world. But a day full of sleeping and a little bit of the wonderful antibiotic known as Cipro and I was back on my feet the next day.

Saturday I had a lot of fun filming some commercials featuring the Sudanese guys to show during halftime at our upcoming World Cup public viewing outreaches this week. We did two skits and Sebit interviewed Donato, a boy here who has an amazing testimony.

Some prayer requests for this week:

One – for the health of my teammates Missy and Daniel – they’re both recovering from bugs they picked up earlier this week.

Two – for our World Cup and Malony village mobile clinic outreaches this week – that we would use these as an opportunity to bless the communities and reach out to them tangibly with the love of Christ.

Three – that I would believe not just in my mind, but in my heart in the power of God and his desire to work in fresh and new ways in and through my life during my time here and that any barriers I put up to Him working in and through me would be torn down.