Experiencing More of Guinea
Participating in the up-country trip to Mamou and Boké was truly special. The week wasn't easy, but it was so good.
The team selected for this experience was top notch. We spent hours upon hours with one another, and yet I didn't want our time together to end when we returned to Conakry after eight days. We laughed often. We encouraged one another. We pressed through the difficult moments collectively. Any negative emotions were short-lived. Complaints were few. Among this group I didn't feel pressure to be perfect. I didn't feel the need to compare. I felt gratitude, happiness, and inspiration just being among my teammates and learning from them.
In both cities we met some hard-working and gifted interpreters and missionaries. Especially in Mamou, I felt that our team was able to build rapport quickly with people whom we didn't even know 24 hours earlier (a definite answered prayer). Many worked side by side with us at the screening event from six in the morning until very late into the night. Not only that, but they returned the next morning for another - unplanned - half day of patient evaluations.
In Mamou, Pular is the primary language. Since we only had one Pular speaker on our up-country team, these extra interpreters and missionaries were vital to the success of that screening event. But even aside from their language skills, I was so impressed. They were flexible - able to move from one task to the next with ease. They were knowledgeable about the local culture - guiding us on how to best educate patients about our transportation study. They were kind - opening up their homes and guesthouses to workers who didn't have a place to stay overnight. And despite the long hours, the interpreters still collectively sent us a thank you note expressing appreciation for the inspiring opportunity.
_______________________
Over the course of the week, we spent about 24 hours traveling from city to city. Surprisingly, I didn't mind the long drives. We made fairly frequent stops to accommodate driver changes and "code yellow" requests, which helped to break up the journey. The conversations with my assigned car mates were always interesting. The scenery was gorgeous: lush green forested areas, rivers, and a few mountains dotted by small villages and the occasional market town. I wanted to soak up the sights forever. Driving into Boké, we also witnessed a beautiful yet eerie storm. The cloud formation brought to mind tornados, the wind was strong, and the light was stunning. We saw people running for cover. They knew what was to come. Just as we entered the hotel, the clouds opened up and the rain poured.
_______________________
The culture of taxis and transport vehicles in Guinea is both shocking and impressive at the same time. Most taxis are beat up and worn down so much so that I wonder how they are able to drive from point A to point B. They are often jury-rigged in one way or another, such as a horn that honks not by pressing on the steering wheel but by slightly turning the key in the ignition. And somehow they always manage to squish 4-6 adults in the backseat. I'm not sure how customers survive long journeys that way given the lack of A/C in this hot climate and the preference for modest clothing, but they manage.
During our trip to the interior, we saw taxis with goods piled so high that I expected the roof of the car to cave in at any moment. And that truck below, how do the bags stay in place when the truck goes around a sharp curve?
Up country, we'd often spot young men riding on top of the goods or on the back of the transport vehicles. It freaked me out watching them. Any sudden pothole, swerving, or a quick foot on the break and they could go flying into the road. However, they always seemed relaxed. On the plus side, riding outside is cheap (or free) and offers more ventilation.
Perhaps the most bizarre transportation sighting of the trip was of a guy who had strapped himself to the back of a van so he could take a nap.
_______________________
Though we spent many waking hours focused on screening activities, we did create space to relax and soak up some of Guinea's natural beauty. During our longest drive from Mamou to Boké (about 11 hours), we took a left onto a random dirt road at the suggestion of one of our security day crew. Within a few-minutes drive, we came upon a gorgeous waterfall called Voile de la Mariée (Bridal Veil Falls) tucked back behind a village. Given the decrepit cement huts nearby, it appeared that the site was a tourist destination at one point - or at least that seemed to be the intention. In Guinea you see many buildings that look only half constructed.
On our return trip to Conakry, we detoured about an hour to a peaceful, clean beach situated behind an expansive yet apparently vacant hotel. Being outside, breathing fresh air, and wading in the water provided instant refreshment. At the end of our short stay, we all gathered to share stories from the week, to pray together, and to sing worship songs. None of us wanted to leave the beach and yet we couldn't have asked for a better way to finish this great bonding experience.
We arrived to the ship on Sunday evening (21 Oct.) after a grueling few hours in Conakry traffic. There was little time to rest, however. Monday was hectic as we unpacked supplies, updated the patient database, and finalized the logistics for patient transportation. The first bus left Mamou on Tuesday and the second departed from Boké on Wednesday. Our Hope Center - situated about 10 minutes from the ship - went from housing just a handful of patients to being nearly full in a few days.
I wonder how many of these patients from the interior are here in Conakry for the first time? What were they feeling during their journey to this strange floating hospital? And how do they feel being in community with other people who are seeking care for similar medical conditions?
_______________________
Reflecting back on this experience, there are many reasons to give thanks. Our local partnerships proved strong and beneficial in many ways. Security efforts went smoothly. We had the perfect number of interpreters. We had no power outages in Mamou (a big win!). Every patient we educated agreed to be part of our transportation study. We had no problems with our vehicles. Everyone on the team stayed healthy. We got to eat juicy, sweet pineapples from a roadside market. We learned lessons that we'll apply while planning for and executing our November trip to Nzérékoré and Kankan. We were blessed with the opportunity to offer hope to many people. We witnessed examples of human kindness and compassion but also of enduring resilience. And finally, that extra half day of screening in Mamou allowed us to connect with a patient who had traveled from another country to seek care with Mercy Ships. She got delayed en route due to protests and would have missed us otherwise.
The team selected for this experience was top notch. We spent hours upon hours with one another, and yet I didn't want our time together to end when we returned to Conakry after eight days. We laughed often. We encouraged one another. We pressed through the difficult moments collectively. Any negative emotions were short-lived. Complaints were few. Among this group I didn't feel pressure to be perfect. I didn't feel the need to compare. I felt gratitude, happiness, and inspiration just being among my teammates and learning from them.
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Ten members of the up-country "dream team"
Photo Credit: Gerrit van den Noort
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In both cities we met some hard-working and gifted interpreters and missionaries. Especially in Mamou, I felt that our team was able to build rapport quickly with people whom we didn't even know 24 hours earlier (a definite answered prayer). Many worked side by side with us at the screening event from six in the morning until very late into the night. Not only that, but they returned the next morning for another - unplanned - half day of patient evaluations.
In Mamou, Pular is the primary language. Since we only had one Pular speaker on our up-country team, these extra interpreters and missionaries were vital to the success of that screening event. But even aside from their language skills, I was so impressed. They were flexible - able to move from one task to the next with ease. They were knowledgeable about the local culture - guiding us on how to best educate patients about our transportation study. They were kind - opening up their homes and guesthouses to workers who didn't have a place to stay overnight. And despite the long hours, the interpreters still collectively sent us a thank you note expressing appreciation for the inspiring opportunity.
_______________________
Over the course of the week, we spent about 24 hours traveling from city to city. Surprisingly, I didn't mind the long drives. We made fairly frequent stops to accommodate driver changes and "code yellow" requests, which helped to break up the journey. The conversations with my assigned car mates were always interesting. The scenery was gorgeous: lush green forested areas, rivers, and a few mountains dotted by small villages and the occasional market town. I wanted to soak up the sights forever. Driving into Boké, we also witnessed a beautiful yet eerie storm. The cloud formation brought to mind tornados, the wind was strong, and the light was stunning. We saw people running for cover. They knew what was to come. Just as we entered the hotel, the clouds opened up and the rain poured.
 |
Before the storm
Photo Credit: Gerrit van den Noort
|
The culture of taxis and transport vehicles in Guinea is both shocking and impressive at the same time. Most taxis are beat up and worn down so much so that I wonder how they are able to drive from point A to point B. They are often jury-rigged in one way or another, such as a horn that honks not by pressing on the steering wheel but by slightly turning the key in the ignition. And somehow they always manage to squish 4-6 adults in the backseat. I'm not sure how customers survive long journeys that way given the lack of A/C in this hot climate and the preference for modest clothing, but they manage.
During our trip to the interior, we saw taxis with goods piled so high that I expected the roof of the car to cave in at any moment. And that truck below, how do the bags stay in place when the truck goes around a sharp curve?
Up country, we'd often spot young men riding on top of the goods or on the back of the transport vehicles. It freaked me out watching them. Any sudden pothole, swerving, or a quick foot on the break and they could go flying into the road. However, they always seemed relaxed. On the plus side, riding outside is cheap (or free) and offers more ventilation.
Perhaps the most bizarre transportation sighting of the trip was of a guy who had strapped himself to the back of a van so he could take a nap.
 |
 |
Though we spent many waking hours focused on screening activities, we did create space to relax and soak up some of Guinea's natural beauty. During our longest drive from Mamou to Boké (about 11 hours), we took a left onto a random dirt road at the suggestion of one of our security day crew. Within a few-minutes drive, we came upon a gorgeous waterfall called Voile de la Mariée (Bridal Veil Falls) tucked back behind a village. Given the decrepit cement huts nearby, it appeared that the site was a tourist destination at one point - or at least that seemed to be the intention. In Guinea you see many buildings that look only half constructed.
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Voile de la Marieé
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Pristine beach (except for that Coke can...)
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I wonder how many of these patients from the interior are here in Conakry for the first time? What were they feeling during their journey to this strange floating hospital? And how do they feel being in community with other people who are seeking care for similar medical conditions?
_______________________
Reflecting back on this experience, there are many reasons to give thanks. Our local partnerships proved strong and beneficial in many ways. Security efforts went smoothly. We had the perfect number of interpreters. We had no power outages in Mamou (a big win!). Every patient we educated agreed to be part of our transportation study. We had no problems with our vehicles. Everyone on the team stayed healthy. We got to eat juicy, sweet pineapples from a roadside market. We learned lessons that we'll apply while planning for and executing our November trip to Nzérékoré and Kankan. We were blessed with the opportunity to offer hope to many people. We witnessed examples of human kindness and compassion but also of enduring resilience. And finally, that extra half day of screening in Mamou allowed us to connect with a patient who had traveled from another country to seek care with Mercy Ships. She got delayed en route due to protests and would have missed us otherwise.
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