Political Unrest in Senegal: Goodness?

June 7, 2023

As I write this, the blue canvas around me is smudged with charcoal with the remainder of last night's fire. The rock of West Africa, Senegal, burns literally and physically with fear with political unrest for the country's threatened democracy.

Each of my senses is alarmed; I taste ash and smell a bizarre and specific aroma of fish mixed with roasted rubber. My skin feels coated from the sea's humidity. The city, usually filled with appropriate sounds of traffic and life, is now muted. I only hear the soft hum of the Global Mercy's engine and the buzz of the fly who has decided to assist me. And I see the lingering charcoal rising from the skyline.

My senses activate a turning pit in my stomach with emotions of empathy, deep frustration, and defeat. I have been in Senegal for almost two years. Traveling throughout the country, falling deeply in love with the culture, the music, and the people that make those things come alive. During an assignment in the fishing town of Saint Louis, I had been busy making connections with individuals that work in the local hospitals, going to neighborhoods, photographing futbol games on the beach with a Sherbet backdrop, the horizon lost in colorful swirls, a Karate club lead by a coach with zeal for the youth of this city. I had countless moments I wanted to bottle to hold close.

In contrast, there were scenes I wished to put in a different bottle, a bottle for bad dreams. It would include scenes of the various hospitals. It would consist of the reality of the young fisherman preparing to leave his family to make the dangerous journey in a fishing boat to Spain, hopeful of escaping the generational lack. The dinner scene with my colleagues, the deep complexity of tribal tension, each feeling disrespected over a misunderstanding.

I rarely cry, but when I walked to my hotel, exhausted and holding both full bottles, I heard the faint sound of a kitten. The kitten was calling for help stuck under mountains of concrete. I looked at my dear friend and fellow volunteer Eugene, videographer, and he nodded knowing my unspoken request. We located the trapped animal, set our gear down, and began our rescue mission. After forty minutes of investigation, with the helpless cry ringing in our ears, we failed. Once in the solitude of my hot hotel room, I sat on my bed, looking at the crooked picture of a Senegalese fishing boat across from me, and I started to weep. I wept for the cat, the young fisherman, the patients, and the determined medical professionals trying to make a difference with so few resources. I cried for the coach, his belief that karate could bring hope to his community, and how weak I was.

These moments bring up the natural existential question: is there a God? If so, is there a contradiction of God's justice and goodness?

Not uniquely, I have been faced with this question repeatedly. From childhood, I read about the world wars and the civil rights movement, enthralled and disappointed with the repetition of history. I have been confused with the mysticism of Christianity and the atrocities caused by the church. The audacity to say "God is good, he loves you" to someone suffering is hollow and hard to stomach.

The constant questioning is a tiresome cycle, yet, I can’t help but see goodness, magnificence, and purity. I am disciplined in watching the show displayed by the sunrise almost every morning. I see merit in our patients. That is the reality for many Mercy Ships patients who have been mocked somehow still have kindness gleaming in their eyes. How nature intricately works together, down to every molecule. I have seen goodness emerge from the horror of a sex ring raid in Las Vegas. I did a story for the newspaper on the woman who ran the safe house the victims were brought to. She was once a victim, now passionate about providing a place of respite and redemption for others. The way my Senegalese coworkers can sing and laugh when we are outside in the heat for hours while there are whispers of complaints from the western crew (cough, cough, myself).

I found myself latching onto the philosophy of Saint Augustine. There is no evil; one can only turn away from good. A God that is good and allows moral freedom, Augustine asked: Do we have convincing evidence that a good God exists? If independent evidence leads us to conclude that God exists and is good, He would be incapable of creating evil." So either God is good, or he doesn't exist.

I continue to revisit the model of mercy ships. When Jesus said, "We will do greater things than He," and how I witness that daily. There is such a broad impact involving hundreds of people. Brilliant surgeons, cooks, therapists, janitorial staff, and maritime workers have studied to perfect their craft. They are now used with the shared goal of healing—a ripple effect of individuals choosing to volunteer and emphasizing the validation of life.

Gary Parker, a surgeon on board for 36 years as a volunteer, said this week, "For hope to be credible in the future, it needs to be tangible in the present."

We see miracle after miracle, the blind seeing for the first time faces being reconstructed after being eaten away by Noma, a flesh-eating virus, and the lame being able to walk.

So though, as I am tempted to question as the blue sky is tarnished from the smoke of injustice, I exhale in the complexity of God's goodness and hope to continue to witness it demonstrated.

A little vlog of the sail

Sailing to Dakar

February 10, 2022

It Is A Surreal Scene To Look At A 360-Degree Panorama In Real-Time Of Nothing But The Ocean.

The view of endless hues of blue and grey gave a sense of humility as we sailed from Tenerife to Dakar. We are individually minute in comparison to the sea. However, once leaving the deck to enter the vessel's walls that tilted back and forth, passionate and brilliant people surrounded me. Each passenger has a vastly different story. Dozens of languages spoken inside the Africa Mercy, varying cultures, reasons why they agreed to the voyage. Some volunteers have been waiting for two years to set sail, while others, like myself, have just arrived. Though the differences between us are prominent, the common thread shared is the why. We have all come from around the world to play a role in conducting 1,000 surgeries in ten months. This sail symbolized a fulfilled promise for the patients waiting for years.

Of course, the dolphins jumping, sense of community, and the Nepalese dinner of perfectly spiced curry made by our security team, the Gurkhas, are all incentives to be on board. But nothing quite captures the overwhelming honor to be a part of a united team, with different stories, with one shared goal, sailing together in a vessel to begin the long-awaited work, finally.

Thank you for your support. Last night, 100 patients and their caretakers arrived from neighboring regions of Senegal to our Pre Operation center, the Hope Center, to quarantine and care to make sure they are healthy enough for their surgery. The first surgeries will occur on February 23. So far, I have covered documenting the sail (which was fascinating) and the arrival ceremony, including individuals from the World Health Organization, Minister of Health M. Abdoulaye Diouf Sarr, President Macky Sall's advisor Dr. Diopp and other government officials. Projects you will see soon include profiles on a Senegalese nurse that has kept in contact with each patient for the last two years weekly, reminding them that their surgery will happen—a profile on the director of Hope Center and patient stories. Thank you for following along and being a part of this in whatever way means the world. Covid has made things much more complicated, thankful for the team doing everything in their power to organize strategies to deal with it to keep the crew and patients as safe as possible. Please keep everyone in your thoughts and prayers as we begin welcoming our first patients!

With so much love and GRATITUDE,

Elizabeth

A bit more about Mercy Ships logistics for those curious:

President Macky Sall of Senegal extended the invitation for Mercy Ships to come and dock in Dakar to partner with policymakers, medical clinics, the World Health Organization, agricultural specialists to cultivate a lasting, long-term plan.

This sail is five years in the making with country negotiations, patient screening, and developing a specific unit mentoring program.

This mentoring program means that Mercy ships is a learning hospital. 900 medical professionals including, anesthesiologists, medical administration, surgeons, ophthalmic, etc. come for further education to bring back the experience to their clinics.

In ten months, 1,000 surgeries including maxillofacial, reconstructive plastics, fistulas, prolapse (women’s health), goiters, pediatric orthopedic will take place. Non-surgical care will be provided as well including dental care, palliative, and Ponseti method (club foot). Housing is provided for patients and their caretakers during the duration of the surgery and rehabilitation.

Infrastructure development also takes place meaning clinic renovations and placement of new equipment. Mercy Ships makes sure to partner with clinics in local areas for training - making sure that the clinic itself will be supported and not “run out of business.” Research and partnerships ensure the model doesn’t harm the economic structure in place — A large percentage of patients come from rural areas of Senegal that have little to no access to medical facilities. 5 billion people lack access to safe, affordable surgical and anesthesia care needed. 3.7 billion people are at risk of catastrophic expenditure if they were to need surgery because they do not have financial risk protection and more people died due to lack of safe surgery than from TB, malaria, and HIV combined. Many of the West African medical professionals that come for the ten-month training continue to build clinics in these smaller regions.

Thank you to all who are following along. I am humbled to be a part of this and have learned an immense amount and I am encouraged by power in organizing and partnering together.

YOGI MOM

May 26, 2020

Alexis Choi

Is a Las Vegas and Seattle based yoga teacher who has trained over 100 hours in yoga and mindfulness for children and teens. A mom and an advocate for mindfulness education for kids and previously taught at University of Nevada, Las Vegas and several elementary schools in Las Vegas area.