Getting Settled

(Psst--Click here for a suggested soundtrack for this blog post!)

To everyone who prayed for my preparations, travel, and arrival in Senegal--thank you! I wanted to provide an update on life since my arrival in mid-October.

On the ride from the airport to a hotel in Yoff where I would spend a precautionary two-day quarantine, my taxi driver asked me what I thought of his country. The Senegalese (and West Africans in general) have a lot of pride associated with hospitality ("teranga" in Wolof), so I told him a story from 2019 about a man who had stopped on his commute on his way home to help me and my friends. It was peak rush hour on a hot day in downtown Dakar, and we were having a lot of trouble finding an available taxi at a reasonable price. The man was obviously on his way somewhere, likely going home from work, but he repeatedly refused to go on his way until we were on ours. In the end, he was probably with us for more than 30 minutes, and I still think about his generous efforts more than two years later. It's proof of how seemingly small acts of kindness can leave a big impression on those we encounter!

After quarantine, I stayed in another hotel in
Point E for several days on "COVID Restrictions".
I had a nice view of the surrounding buildings
(and a few sheep) from my window.

Me, Valerie, Chelsea, and Becky out for a roommate lunch on
a Saturday.

Two days and one negative COVID test later, I was in another taxi with my coworker Chelsea. I was seated behind the driver, alternating between admiring his headrest adorned with some sort of furry covering, and gazing at the vaguely familiar buildings rolling by outside the car window. As a man on the radio spoke animatedly in Wolof, words and phrases rose up from my not-so-distant memory. Salam alaikum ("peace be upon you" a common greeting in many Muslim-majority countries, although the spelling and pronunciation may vary), nanga def? ("how are you doing?"), and of course jërëjëf ("thank you").

We were heading to Point E, a neighborhood in west-central Dakar where our team is working out of an apartment. A few of us are involved in the pre-ship Medical Capacity Building programs that are currently running in Senegal. But mainly, in our respective ways, we are all responsible for the preparations leading up to the arrival of the Africa Mercy in February. 

My apartment team spent a couple evenings
helping to prepare supplies for the eye patients

The patient selection team is already travelling around the interior and meeting with perspective patients, some of whom are returning after having their surgery cancelled last year (yay!). Likewise, the eye team has been in-country for a short but intense project, supporting a small team of Senegalese ophthalmic surgeons at a local hospital, as they screened and operated on a number of cataract patients who had been scheduled for surgery before the AFM left last year (double yay!). 

Dakar, the City of Cats

The HR team will be processing hundreds of Day Crew applications, and preparing for the interview stage. And we are always attentively liaising with our partners from the government, the port, and local businesses to build relationships and collaborate on many details to make the ship's return a success. The meetings I have attended in the weeks since arriving have centered on fuel, waste management, and confirming our berth in the port of Dakar. With the February deadline fast approaching, three months feels altogether too short!

Although I know my way around the city fairly well from the previous seven months spent here, I knew that working apart from the ship was going to come with different rules, rhythms, and responsibilities. After being the person on the ship to whom many people brought their questions, I am now the one who isn't quite sure where to find extra post-its, how to submit a receipt, whether I'm using the printer correctly, and where to drop off a letter for the port commandant. It's humbling to need help with so many little things, and I'm grateful that my teammates have welcomed my questions with an abundance of grace and patience!

I personally brought very few expectations on what this period would be like. But still I came expectant, prepared to offer my efforts and see what God would make out of our work--and see what He will do beyond our imagining.

"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." 

-Ephesians 3:20-21

I'll update the prayer requests on the side bar, but just to highlight a few:

• Praise for safe and successful screening so far! We keep hearing positive updates from up-country.
• Also thankful for the patients who were able to have cataract surgery.
• Pray for patience, wisdom, and confidence (and a good memory!) as I'm learning this new role.
• Pray for safety for our team in Dakar and up-country.
• Pray for the continuation of positive relationships with our various partners. We cannot do this without them!

As always, thank you for reading, and for praying, and for partnering with me in this work! I'm sending hugs from Dakar, and a few bonus photos to sign off:

On a fall bike ride in MN with dad in early October.

And I'm off!

Being back in my favorite fabric store
was a highlight of last week!

On a visit to the Ministry of Health

The best is yet to come

It's often easier to look back and long for what has been left behind than to muster up excitement for a future filled with many unknowns. I still remember crying on my last day of eighth grade, because I loved my middle school years so much, and simply couldn't imagine how life could get any better.

Don't worry, Middle School Kate, God's got this.

This thought is, of course, hilarious now. How little imagination I had for the good things that could be in store, in high school and beyond! After a good middle school experience, why was it so hard to believe that a mysterious future could exceed a what I had known in the past?

I have often thought about my middle school self in the last few months. 

This has been my longest break from blogging since I started with Mercy Ships, but it's been a hiatus from more than just writing.

In late July, I met up with a few Mercy Ships
friends for some hiking in Zion and Bryce
Canyon. It was a wonderful reunion!

As I shared in my previous post, the ship's return to Africa was rescheduled to January, 2022. At the time, I already was on track to hand off my Executive Assistant role in April. With the new delay, it became a lot harder to predict what my next steps with might look like.

Playing recreational soccer with new and old
friends was one of this summer's highlights!

It was at that point that I decided to take a big step back from all remote work, and prepared to spend a season outside of the Mercy Ships bubble.

Despite the unexpected turn this year took, this has been a truly good season--I had time to join in summer activities (like a recreational soccer league) that I wouldn't have had time to consider in years past, and make leisure plans with friends without wondering whether I would be able see them more than once! God used unexpected detours to create space to rest, and He brought seeds (the spiritual kind that had been spreading their roots the last 15 months) to blossom.

With that in mind, I have some news that I am excited to share!

A new role

A rainbow that appeared last week
while I was on a run.

I almost titled this post "I'm not going back to the ship" but decided that might be a little too dramatic! It's true, but I can also explain more fully...

After wrapping up my Executive Assistant work, it was time to do some job searching. I trusted that God would open the right doors, and eventually I accepted a position on what's known as the Country Engagement Team (CET). This means that my next role is not ship-based, which will be a big change after the previous 3 years of living and working on board the Africa Mercy.

Country Engagement refers to the process of building and maintaining relationships with Mercy Ships' past, present, and future host nations, to ensure that the joint efforts with the host governments are set up for success. My team is comprised of around 12 members, and for the next few months we will be doing advance work to prepare for the Africa Mercy to return to Dakar, Senegal in late January. My specific role will involve liaising with the port in Dakar as well as some other admin. 

A new departure date

The "first wave" of the CET arrived in in Dakar in late August. I am joining with the second wave, which means I will depart the US in mid-October, 2021. This arrangement will continue until sometime in February, 2022.

My whole experience with Mercy Ships until last year was as part of the ship community. When I left that community, I was already looking forward to the unknown date when I could get back on board, back in "my" cabin, and back to some familiar rhythms in that community. Now it is not clear if/when that will be happening, and it has been mental work to detach my expectations from returning to the ship and instead preparing to work on "the other side" of things.

Wherever I "land", it's important to me that I work at my role with all my heart, as though working for the Lord. My excitement for this next step may not be attached to any specifics, but it's growing, and there have been several "wow" moments in the last few months to help it along.

By a wonderful coincidence (oh, hi God!) in August, I ended up visiting the Mercy Ships base in Texas at the same time as my future Senegal Country Director, Daniel, and his wife Linda, who works with Medical Capacity Building. All three of us were so excited to sit down for coffee with teammates... in person!

A second moment happened just this week, when I saw an email notification that my arrival had been added to my team's calendar. Although many of my upcoming preparations revolve around leaving Minnesota, this is a good reminder that that October isn't just the month when I leave--it's also the month when I arrive back in Senegal! After all the twists and turns of LOA, this is something I've been anticipating with excitement since I returned home in 2020. As an administrative professional, is it really any surprise that a calendar update almost moved me to tears? HA.

There is still uncertainty, as there will probably always be this side of heaven, but the unknown future is in God's hands, and He is very worthy of our trust! The thought of my fourteen-year-old self shedding tears on the last day of middle school is now a laughable reminder that in all likelihood, the best is still yet to come.

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On another fun note, there is a whole British TV series dedicated to interviews with Mercy Ships patients, doctors, and other staff and volunteers on TBN UK. I've enjoyed watching a few episodes over the last year. Kudos to Mercy Ships UK on this project! Check it out here.

On Unexpected Detours and "Lizard Brain"

Things have changed again.

The unexpected news was read aloud in a team meeting. The return to Senegal for the Africa Mercy was delayed until January, 2022.

In many ways, this delay has been more difficult to process than the previous ones. After being home for almost a year, away from the ship that had been home, community, and workplace, the return date had felt so close. But when I was about the reach the finish line, it turns out the race was only halfway over. 

Shortly after the announcement was made, I could imagine, in my mind's eye, how a well-adjusted, resilient adult should handle this kind of news. By my own admission, I don't think I emulated it very well. I could imagine what some logical next steps might be, but I was too upset to take those next steps, or even care what they were. Instead, I felt like crawling into a hole to hide. Looking back, I know this was a period in which I was experiencing the stages of acute grief, and my lizard brain was going full-throttle.

For a time, I didn't know how to find the way forward. But thankfully, little by little, the way forward is finding me.

---

Flashback to November, 2019. A group of us were driving to the Mercy Ships agricultural site, a couple hours towards the interior of Senegal. As can easily happen, we got a little turned around during the trip, driving for 10-15 minutes up the wrong road and through a neighboring village. Eventually we realized our mistake, and the only thing to do was backtrack the same way we had come.

We reached a sandy clearing that was wide enough to make a U-turn. In the scope of West Africa, the view from the vehicle was unremarkable. It included a few goats, some drying laundry, and large tree, under which a few people were seated together on benches. They were looking understandably perplexed as a white Land Cruiser, filled to the brim with mostly white people, arrived in the center of their village, then summarily turned around and left.

Our driver was the ever buoyant and optimistic Operations Director, John. As we drove back to the main road, although we hadn't reached our final destination, John gestured vaguely at our surroundings and declared, "Well... if we hadn't come this way, we wouldn't have seen this!" as though it was what we has been looking for all along.

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John was right. If we hadn't gotten a bit turned around, we almost certainly never would have laid eyes on that hidden corner of that unknown (to us) village, and the people sitting in that clearing may have never gotten an unexpected visit from a mysterious white SUV. But we did, and they did. Although the detour served no apparent purpose, John's declaration reminded us to be thankful that it happened anyway. If one was constantly pining after the "shoulds" ("we should be there by now", "we should have read the directions more carefully") and unable to celebrate "what is", life would be kind of a drag!

To be totally honest, I didn't know how I was going to share this difficult news, but I am reassured by the knowledge that I have an amazing network of friends, prayer warriors, and supporters who have been my partners in this work for nearly 4 years, and this season is no exception. I would love to answer any additional questions that you may have about this latest update.

 A patient at the vaccine clinic where I worked
handed out thank you's to every staff person she
encountered. It made my day!

Regarding my immediate plans:

To introduce some more routine into my week and take a break from remote work, I had been working part-time at a vaccine clinic in Minneapolis. Coincidentally, the site recently closed, and so it was a good moment to transition to a seasonal position at a store where I have previously worked. I will be starting that job in May and will stay there for a season. Depending on my hours, I may pick up a few odd projects for Mercy Ships, but it's safe to assume that I will be sticking around Minnesota for the summer.

This new delay is a reminder, frustrating though it may be, that I do not have the power to make my plans come to fruition. Neither does Mercy Ships. The only one that gets to have their plans work out on time, every time, is God. Like it says in Proverbs 16:9, "We can make our plans, but the LORD determines our steps."

I will continue to share updates as I have them. For those that have been partnering with me in prayer, God has heard, I cannot stress enough how much that helps when things are so uncertain!

For my financial partners, I understand that this is a season of uncertainty for many. If you need to make any adjustments to your monthly giving, please know that I completely understand. Contact information for Mercy Ships Donor Services on my Fundraising page.

"Be willing to abide in darkness so long as you have His presence. Remember that it is better to walk in the dark with God than to walk alone in the light." 

—The Still Small Voice (from "Streams in the Desert")

For my birthday in March, my family went hiking at Afton. It was muddy, but worth it!

Spring wildflowers in Bloomington