Day 537 - Transition

Transition is such a funny thing. There seems to be a fine line between hanging on too long and letting go too soon. Murray and I have both been handing over our jobs slowly over the past few weeks. Now, with 5 days left on the ship, our successors have fully stepped into their roles - leaving us available to answer any remaining questions, but otherwise seeking a new "identity" while here. It's interesting how responsibility works. I fought it tooth-and-nail for a while after first being told that I was being recommended for a Team Leader role. Now that I've had the role but am moving on to a new chapter in life, I find myself at a bit of a loss without that responsibility resting on my shoulders.

Murray's co-workers from the reception team took us out to dinner on Wednesday evening.

 

Brenda and I during the last biweekly Thursday afternoon fire drill. It turned out to be a drill for rescuing someone from an enclosed space rather than a fire drill. Thus, neither the general crew nor the hospital needed to evacuate the ship, and we weren't needed and got to go back inside early!

 

This morning my co-workers from the Admissions team put together a delicious breakfast to share with Murray and me. I refused to give any good-bye hugs, promising to do those next week, right before we go. I don't like good-byes, and I certainly don't like saying good-bye multiple times.

Finally, here is Greta, the current Admissions Nurse Team Leader. She's doing an awesome job stepping into my role. I'm able to sleep well at night knowing that Admissions is in good hands. :) hehe 

So in case you didn't know...Murray and I are leaving Mercy Ships next week to live in South Africa while filling out permanent residency paperwork for Murray to come to the States with me. We are uncertain about many, many things, but certain that God is with us and that: 

Whether [we] turn to the right or to the left, [our] ears will hear a voice behind [us], saying, 'This is the way; walk in it.' Isaiah 30:21

Day 536 (Happy Thanksgiving!)

Yesterday I had the privilege of donating blood. I had tried to donate last December to the Aberdeen Women's Clinic in Sierra Leone, but my hemoglobin was too low. This time it was 13.9!

Typically on the AFM one knows which patient will be receiving the donated blood, as the crew are a "walking blood bank" from which blood is drawn only when a patient is in need. But in this case it will be stored for a time and used only if needed in the next few weeks. My blood type is A negative, so though I've offered to donate previously, it has never been needed from me here. Whether or not it will be used, I don't know, but I have sources who have promised to keep me in the loop!:)

Today I am thankful to be healthy enough to donate. Happy Thanksgiving!

Day 517 *Changes*

So many things in my life have changed in the past 17 months...the change that sticks out the most to me on this particular day is my personality. I came to the ship incredibly shy and reserved. And I had this dreadful, dreadful fear of having to barter for things in the market. I hated it. Just pick a price, display the price, and it's fair for everyone! But nope. The only way there is a "set" price is if you have lived here long enough to have learned the typical price or have really good contacts who will tell you.

Well, today I discovered that I've actually grown to enjoy the bartering experience. Sometimes. But still, that's more than it used to be! I remember a time in Sierra Leone when I saw a pair of capris on display week after week, until finally I decided it was time to muster my courage and go buy them. I decided beforehand what my absolute highest price was (my brain isn't so quick at figuring out the US dollar equivalent on the spot), so that I wouldn't hesitate too much when bartering. So off we went, Murray and I, to buy those capris. I told the gentleman which ones I was interested in and he sent me to the back room where a curtain provided small small privacy to try them on. Found the right size, went back up front and began the circus. Of course, he wanted about double what I was willing to pay. I stood my ground. Finally we came down to his "lowest price." I said "No" and started walking away. (Something I learned from others.) Wait for it...."Okay." I turned around with a grin on my face. He said, "You know Salone money. Why?" (I think he was actually a bit angry with me.) My answer: "I'm not stupid. I've been here a while and have learned." I was very pleased with myself that day. Yes, I had probably just paid a lot more than what a local would pay, but I left without paying more than I had decided beforehand and for that I was happy.

Fast forward to today. Murray and I walked to the market to look for some fabric that I saw last week and wished all week long that I would have bought it. Found the same stand where the lady was selling lappas and immediately there were 3 or 4 guys who walked up who spoke bits of English. Just enough for us to communicate. I finally got them to understand that I was looking for a piece that I saw last week and tried to describe it. Not to much avail, so they allowed me to look, pulling up piece after piece and shoving it toward me. Then I spotted it. "There! That one!" "O you like this one?" coming from the guy who spoke the best English and had pushed his way to the front to be the one who helped me. He wanted me to tell him what price I had paid last week, but that wasn't going to work since I hadn't bought any lappas in Guinea. I told him to give me a price. Finally he gave me one. "45." (Meaning 45,000) Divide 45 by about 7 to get the US equivalent, which in this case is roughly $6.00.  That didn't help me know what the real price was, except that it was likely much lower than that. In Sierra Leone, it was rougly 1 or 2 dollars for a lappa. So we bartered. He told me he would give me a better price if I bought two. I wasn't completely satisfied with the price he was offering, but I agreed to look. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm super indecisive. So I looked, and looked, and looked...they were beginning to see that it wasn't going to be so easy to pick one that I liked. Finally the owner of the stand handed me a piece. "Uh-huh!!!! Oui!!" That got a laugh out of the lady, who then started imitating my excitement to the others. Others joined in the laughter. This was starting to get fun.

By now, he had gone down to 30,000 for one piece, claiming that as his last price, and I had gone up to 25,000 claiming that as my last price. Judging from his body language, he knew he was getting a good price regardless of who got their way. He put the material in a bag, still saying "30. Last price." I pulled 50,000 out of my purse and handed it to him. He handed me the bag, still asking for more. We laughed and joked and I told him I knew it was a very good price for him. More than the normal price. "No, 30 is the price for everyone," he said. Nope. I knew since he had handed me the bag, that it would be okay if I walked away. That was the unspoken agreement that the price was settled. So we said our thank yous and walked away.

That's when I realized that I actually enjoy bartering. Maybe it's because I'm stubborn and I get to practice standing my ground. (Murray is voicing his agreement to this.) Maybe it's because we laughed together, regardless of it being at my expense. Whatever the reason, it's one more thing that I will miss when we leave the ship. Mostly, I'm so thankful for the people and the circumstances that God has used here to grow me and pull me out of my safe little shell.