YWAM comes to town

My first experience of Gulf Province was two years ago when I visited on the YWAM medical ship, Pacific Link. It introduced me to the area and was the start of friendships both locally and on the ship. Last year we were in Gulf on our exploratory trip when the ship returned on its annual visit and it was good to renew friendships. This year I’d moved into the neighbourhood when the ship came to visit. This year though, it was the new ship, and it was BIG. The medical needs in Gulf Province are big too, so the ship is not disproportionate to the need, but it was still a strange sight as we rounded the river bend and saw her at anchor.

The day we knew the ship was due, we loaded into the dinghy and went for a visit. The ship did not come to my village, Ubuo, but was in the Kope language area when they anchored near Karati. In the village the YWAM guests slid their way along the muddy path to the official welcome in the church. After songs, speeches and introductions, they squelched back along the path to their various places of work for the day; at Karati health centre, in the dental clinic on the ship or doing primary health care in another village further upstream.

The BIG new ship anchored by Karati

I hung out with a lady from my village who had come with us and surprised a few locals by introducing myself in the Kope language. As it was only the third day of language learning for me, that was about all the talking I could do. My friend would then take over and explain who I was and why I was learning Kope. There was then a second round of handshakes to express their pleasure when they understood that I’d come to work alongside them longer term.

Once on the ship I stepped into another world. From the air-conditioned and glass-sided dining hall, I sat in one world and watched my other life as if it were a documentary. I had fine views of the Gulf delta and Karati village, all from the comfort of air-conditioning while sipping a cappuccino. It was very strange. Returning to Ubuo late in the day two of the leadership team came with to see a village they had not yet visited. The outcome was that they sent a team to do an immunisation clinic the next day.

As I listened to the reports of those who had gone with on the ship visit that night, their overwhelming impression was of how big it was. I smiled at the descriptions of numbers of tables and chairs, layers of decks and strength of outboards on the zodiacs. Yet I too had been a bit overwhelmed by the bigness and the newness of the ship, especially in contrast to the area.

The immunisation team arriving in Ubuo for the day

The late notice about the immunisation clinic meant that many village families had gone fishing or to their gardens before the health team arrived the next morning. Even so, we had a crowd of mothers and children turn up for their immunisations. At the end of the day when the tally was complete, there had been 79 children immunised! This was so many that the zodiac had to return to the ship for extra supplies part way through the day.

Many of these children had not seem many white people before, and never up close like this. One’s first impression of someone so different being that they weigh you and then stab you is not helpful. Children that age cannot appreciate that a little pain now can prevent a lot of suffering later, they just know that the white person made them hurt. 79 children crying from fear and from pain makes for a noisy and exhausting sort of day.

At the end of the day, the medical team loaded themselves and their empty immunisation coolers onto the zodiac to return to the ship for the night. I stood on the bank with the community and waved them off. A head taller than most other women and the only white person in the crowd, I definitely stood out as we all waved together. As the boat pulled away, someone commented in Kope that ‘Sister is staying’ and that made all the screaming babies worthwhile. The identity of being family to the community, of being the one who stays instead of just dropping in, and who will be sitting on the floor and sharing a meal of fish and sago with them that night rather than returning to the comforts of the ship, was a precious moment for me.