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.

Greetings to everyone reading this!  My name is Joe Lazar, and I live in New York City (when I’m not living in Tonj, Sudan).  I am working here with my twin brother John for about a month during our break between our first and second years of medical school.  John and I are working in the clinic, seeing many patients each day.  Our work in the clinic is rewarding in so many ways.  I’m really amazed at the magnitude of the service that we’re providing for those that come in to see us.  We see between 50 and 100-some patients each day, almost none of whom would have access to medical care otherwise.  What’s really stood out to me is how basic the patients’ needs are.  For the most part, we’re not treating very complex, puzzling diseases; rather, we see things like infections, wounds, basic (but potentially dangerous) GI problems.  This is the perfect setting for a couple of first year medical students like us because we can assist meaningfully around the clinic even without the years of learning that lie ahead of each of us.  I’ve already learned so much during my brief time here (in American medical schools, student’s do not see very much in terms of clinical practice until their 3rd year), so I can tell that this experience will be an invaluable part of my education.  In general, life in the clinic has been exactly what I had hoped it would be: a chance to serve God through caring for others and a chance to learn more about medicine so that I can be a better student and ultimately a more sensitive physician in the future.

Today was a great day in terms of weather (for those of us not from Sudan).  To the Sudanese here, the day seemed more like a blizzard.  The temperature during the morning and early afternoon peaked at about 75 degrees Farenheit (about 27 degrees C based on my crude back-of-the-envelope calculation).  This was the first day that I felt comfortable—not hot and sweaty—in shorts and a short-sleeved shirt.  Some of the Sudanese in the clinic, though, were dressed as though they were going skiing.  There were lots of winter hats and coats.  We even saw one young boy dressed in an entire ski suit.  It was an amusing illustration of how the human body can adapt to different environments.  I—and I think most of the new volunteers here—are waiting for the day that our bodies are a bit more adapted to a climate whose heat we are not yet used to.

We concluded the day by watching a moving as a big group.  The volunteers, Sabet and Suzy’s family, clinical staff, and housekeeping staff piled into the dining hall here to watch the children’s movie “Cool Runnings” that tells the story of the first Jamaican bobsled team.  I looked around the dining hall where we were watching several times during the movie and thought to myself, “what a funny little family we make up here”.  There were children playing on the furniture, a few people reading or writing in journals, lots of us shoveling handfuls of popcorn into our mouths, and all this in a village in South Sudan.  It was a wonderful and light-hearted reminder of how special it is that we all came from different places in the world and from different walks of life to do the same thing: to serve God by serving others.  I went to sleep happy of this reminder of how unified we all really are in the world.

My first Sunday in Sudan… I did not know what to expect.  I had been asked a few days ago to help Suzy with the children in Sunday school since I will be teaching next week.  I was looking forward to it, but was also somewhat disappointed to find out that I could not hear Sabet teach.  I have only heard him speak one time 2 years ago.  That was when I knew I wanted to come serve at In Deed and Truth, but I never thought I would be helping teach Sunday school with his wife here in Sudan.

It sprinkled a little this morning, which often keeps people indoors due to the lack of cars here.  Anywhere from 5-50 children were expected.  The rain did little to keep them away, praise the Lord!  Around 40 children arrived to hear the story of Jesus healing Jerus’ daughter.  We then did crafts and sang songs, like any typical Sunday school.  But something was special about this one…I was in Africa!  The looks of the kids’ faces were priceless.  It was as if they had never seen a white person.  I felt bad, thinking that my presence was keeping the children distracted from the lesson.  I just pray now that that was not so, that something that was said or sung sunk deeper into their hearts and minds.

After church was a much anticipated picnic.  We had been told that we would go to a cooler place under a nice big tree, but I never expected it to be as cool as it was.  We set up our blankets, tables, and chairs and enjoyed a nice afternoon in the middle of the “swamp” (flat land with few trees).  It was so relaxing.  I had found myself becoming tense throughout the week when I would spend time in the clinic, so this calm afternoon was much needed.  I was even surprised as how quickly I had become used to the sounds of the compound and only noticed in their absence.  Serenity.  I was reminded of a verse that I read recently.  Psalm 12:5 “‘Because the poor are plundered, because the needy groan, I will now arise,’ says the Lord. ‘I will place him in the safety for which he longs.’”  Being in that “swamp” on our picnic was exactly like that:  God had placed me in a state of safety far greater than I realized I longed for.   He knew our need for rest and fulfilled it.  It was a day a rest that I will not forget for a long time.  Calm.  Restful.

Needed.