with Bobo
April 19th, 2010
11:30pm in the Belly of this Whale…
It’s true. Last night Dulce and I stood outside of my cabin door and she confirmed that I indeed sleep inside the belly of the whale. The ship makes all these weird alarms and noises. Bells and whistles sound the alarm. The toilets flush every couple of seconds and swoosh through the guts of the ship. It’s very noisy down here. But at the same time, it’s also very quiet and calming.
Today was another busy day, and I woke up an hour before my 6am alarm clock went off. I had the opportunity to do some of the major parts that I love about my job. Being a photographer for a medical mission’s organization is never ending. There are always stories to cover on the ship, at the hospitality center, and just around Lome in general. There are countless tales to be shared with each of you and I am trying my best to get them out to you soon.
The communications team: Elaine, Lewis, Mehza, and I drove through the streets of Lome to visit a patient that soon will be joining the Max Fax portion of our surgeries. He was referred to us by a volunteer on the ship and we were in great anticipation to visit. He’s a young boy living in Lome. Today, we had the opportunity to be an invited guest into his home. His father richly greeted us, as did his mother and extended family. They have a very nice home with a convenient store situated to the left of the front entryway. When we got there, I found a milling machine that was converting corn. I instantly thought to myself this is the place, I can get some maza to make some homemade corn tortillas. Yum. (Oh the comforts of home!)
It was the comforts and the awareness of being in certain parts of Mexico that made me feel instantly at home. I did. The turquoise colored walls reminded me of many of the homes, I have visited in Mexico and Africa before. After we formally all introduced ourselves, the little boy walked in to join us. He was so shy that his family had to practically drag him in, but after a short time, Lewis got him to open up. While they were becoming friends, we got a tour of the mini compound.
One of the sisters lives there and runs the convenience shop. I photographed her in the store, and asked her more information about the store. She had been widowed with three children and had to earn a living. The store was the best option for her, and she has been running it successfully for over a year. When we parted, I mentioned to her that I have officially shaken the hand of a business woman in Lome, and she smiled like a Cheshire.
When I returned to our new patient, he was working out mathematical problems with Lewis on a notebook. They both delved into a world of arithmetic and it was quite a challenge to pull them away. So I simply participated from a distance by taking photographs of the almost instant connection. I wanted to capture the brain and soul behind the patient. Yes, he is ill, but he has a brilliant mind, and is eager to use it. He is in school learning a lot, and had taken the day off of school just to meet us. It was such an honor to be there, and to learn about such a fantastic family.
On our return back to the ship, I went into the orthopedic tent to visit Laura and kidnap her for lunch. And as I walked in, there he was, in a little blue tank top. Bobo. He was in complete torment. His first cast had come off, and the ortho team were about to saw off the right cast. Bobo saw me and called me forward and collapsed in my arms. He wanted me to hold him. It was perfect timing. Bobo is a patient we’re following, and I had no clue that he was going to have his casts removed.
He soon pushed me away and reminded me to continue the documentation of his story. Mind you he may be almost ten years old (maybe). He pointed to the photos on the wall that we had taken of him previously, and began to pose so that I could take another photo of him. So I did. He then quickly wanted to review the back for approval. This took his mind off of the pain and noise of the saw and Laura could continue.
In a matter of moments. The casts were off, and never to be placed again. I witnessed a true miracle. His ever so bent legs were virtually as straight as an arrow. Laura and the translator convinced him to take his first steps off of the examination bed and in a matter of moments he was standing. The tears had stopped, and he officially stood on his own.
Through the whole moment, he kept reminding me to click. He would point again to a photo on the wall, as a reminder for me to keep on documenting. Hahahah. It was such a triumphant moment. I had the opportunity to witness it. I truly did. The whole orthopedic process, and I am in awe.
11:30pm in the Belly of this Whale…
It’s true. Last night Dulce and I stood outside of my cabin door and she confirmed that I indeed sleep inside the belly of the whale. The ship makes all these weird alarms and noises. Bells and whistles sound the alarm. The toilets flush every couple of seconds and swoosh through the guts of the ship. It’s very noisy down here. But at the same time, it’s also very quiet and calming.
Today was another busy day, and I woke up an hour before my 6am alarm clock went off. I had the opportunity to do some of the major parts that I love about my job. Being a photographer for a medical mission’s organization is never ending. There are always stories to cover on the ship, at the hospitality center, and just around Lome in general. There are countless tales to be shared with each of you and I am trying my best to get them out to you soon.
The communications team: Elaine, Lewis, Mehza, and I drove through the streets of Lome to visit a patient that soon will be joining the Max Fax portion of our surgeries. He was referred to us by a volunteer on the ship and we were in great anticipation to visit. He’s a young boy living in Lome. Today, we had the opportunity to be an invited guest into his home. His father richly greeted us, as did his mother and extended family. They have a very nice home with a convenient store situated to the left of the front entryway. When we got there, I found a milling machine that was converting corn. I instantly thought to myself this is the place, I can get some maza to make some homemade corn tortillas. Yum. (Oh the comforts of home!)
It was the comforts and the awareness of being in certain parts of Mexico that made me feel instantly at home. I did. The turquoise colored walls reminded me of many of the homes, I have visited in Mexico and Africa before. After we formally all introduced ourselves, the little boy walked in to join us. He was so shy that his family had to practically drag him in, but after a short time, Lewis got him to open up. While they were becoming friends, we got a tour of the mini compound.
One of the sisters lives there and runs the convenience shop. I photographed her in the store, and asked her more information about the store. She had been widowed with three children and had to earn a living. The store was the best option for her, and she has been running it successfully for over a year. When we parted, I mentioned to her that I have officially shaken the hand of a business woman in Lome, and she smiled like a Cheshire.
When I returned to our new patient, he was working out mathematical problems with Lewis on a notebook. They both delved into a world of arithmetic and it was quite a challenge to pull them away. So I simply participated from a distance by taking photographs of the almost instant connection. I wanted to capture the brain and soul behind the patient. Yes, he is ill, but he has a brilliant mind, and is eager to use it. He is in school learning a lot, and had taken the day off of school just to meet us. It was such an honor to be there, and to learn about such a fantastic family.
On our return back to the ship, I went into the orthopedic tent to visit Laura and kidnap her for lunch. And as I walked in, there he was, in a little blue tank top. Bobo. He was in complete torment. His first cast had come off, and the ortho team were about to saw off the right cast. Bobo saw me and called me forward and collapsed in my arms. He wanted me to hold him. It was perfect timing. Bobo is a patient we’re following, and I had no clue that he was going to have his casts removed.
He soon pushed me away and reminded me to continue the documentation of his story. Mind you he may be almost ten years old (maybe). He pointed to the photos on the wall that we had taken of him previously, and began to pose so that I could take another photo of him. So I did. He then quickly wanted to review the back for approval. This took his mind off of the pain and noise of the saw and Laura could continue.
 |
| this was taken a few days after his casts were removed. |
In a matter of moments. The casts were off, and never to be placed again. I witnessed a true miracle. His ever so bent legs were virtually as straight as an arrow. Laura and the translator convinced him to take his first steps off of the examination bed and in a matter of moments he was standing. The tears had stopped, and he officially stood on his own.
Through the whole moment, he kept reminding me to click. He would point again to a photo on the wall, as a reminder for me to keep on documenting. Hahahah. It was such a triumphant moment. I had the opportunity to witness it. I truly did. The whole orthopedic process, and I am in awe.
with Bobo, originally uploaded by Photo2217.
I looked around the orthopedic tent and the team had done a wonderful job of placing my photographs around the room. I didn’t know that they had done this. Everywhere. It makes the tent look nice and it gives comfort to the patients to see their photos on the wall, and know that others have gone through similar processes. But for me it was the greatest gallery exhibit, I have ever been a part of. My photos were strategically hung, not for the posh of NYC, or the cool cats of SF, but for the ever so precious orthopedic once bent leg patients of Lome.
Tears rolled down my eyes. Ever so grateful for the time I have been here. Ever so grateful to have been just an ever small part of this journey with the orthopedic team and Bobo and the countless others. Friday would have been the last week for orthopedic surgery, but since there are volcanoes in Europe erupting, we shall continue for one more week.
I looked around the orthopedic tent and the team had done a wonderful job of placing my photographs around the room. I didn’t know that they had done this. Everywhere. It makes the tent look nice and it gives comfort to the patients to see their photos on the wall, and know that others have gone through similar processes. But for me it was the greatest gallery exhibit, I have ever been a part of. My photos were strategically hung, not for the posh of NYC, or the cool cats of SF, but for the ever so precious orthopedic once bent leg patients of Lome.
Tears rolled down my eyes. Ever so grateful for the time I have been here. Ever so grateful to have been just an ever small part of this journey with the orthopedic team and Bobo and the countless others. Friday would have been the last week for orthopedic surgery, but since there are volcanoes in Europe erupting, we shall continue for one more week.
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