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I just wanted to give you an update on our local tribal warfare.  I’m happy to say that the bloodshed has ended. The attacking village finally gave up as too many of their men were wounded and unable to cross “enemy territory” to get medical attention.  They apologized to the authorities and the enemy villages.  Our hospital only saw four of the victims, who are all doing well.  My fear remains for those who have not received a tetanus shot; that once all is peaceful in their villages that they willcome down with tetanus.  I pray every day for their protection from that horrible disease.  Thank you for your thoughts and prayers. – Audrey

Shanksteps – Birme’s update #99

Often we are not privileged to see the outcome of hours of prayer, but once in awhile God allows us to see a sneak peek of what I imagine it will be like in Heaven when we meet the people who have influenced us, and those we’ve touched as well.  I was given such a gift this week.  Let me back up several months to the beginning. For those of you who follow our Shanksteps, you may remember this story.Birme, a young girl from a nearby village came to the hospital last fall with a 5-day history of headache and neck pain.  She was diagnosed with meningitis (the first of the season) and started on a long course of antibiotics.  During much of her stay she remained in a coma and had several days of severe convulsions.  When she finally did come out of the coma she was paralyzed on one side and was unable to talk.  Her paralysis finally resolved but as of December when I left Cameroun to go the US,she had not yet uttered a word.  Many of us at the hospital prayed for and with her many times throughout the day. Interestingly, every time we tried to talk to her of God’s love (even in English) she ran away and refused to come near us.  We spent a lot of time talking with her parents about God’s love and forgiveness. We had four Student Missionaries from the US visiting at the time from Chad.  Just before we left, all of us Americans and many of the hospital workers prayed with Birme: for healing- physical and spiritual – for her and her whole family.Although Birme’s family brought her into the hospital for medical healing, they believed that her illness was of a more spiritual nature.  For those of you who don’t believe much in the “spirit world”, this will just come across as a weird story.  For those of you who truly believe that there is a war raging between God and Satan, please read this and pray, HARD!  I assure you, living in a land where the Devil can and does work openly; I have no doubt that we are involved in spiritual warfare.  Hereis her story, and the beliefs of her people, the Mafa. In Birm’s case, she is unlucky enough to have a grandfather (father’s father) who is a sorcerer, an old one at that.  As the story goes, her grandfather is becoming more and more feeble and is afraid of dying.  Every year, for the past three years, he has sacrificed (in the spirit world) one of his grandchildren in order to “buy” more life.  Consequently, in the “real” world, each of these children has gotten sick and died.  This year it’s Birm’s turn.  To make matters worse, her mother’s brother”knows” what has been going on, and has threatened that if Birm dies, he will kill everyone in the grandfather’s family.  This 13-year-old girl IS a spiritual battleground.To give you a better idea of the Mafa ideas, and how one can “buy” life, you need to understand their basic spiritual beliefs.  I’ll give you the short version.  The Mafa believe in what is called a second or middle heaven.  Some Mafa Christians call this The Devil’s Heaven.  In this heaven is a grand market.  At the market, you can find almost anything you want, from special pieces of clothing, to knowledge, to longevity.  You can also buy spells to harm or kill people.  Only a sorcerer can go tothis market, however many people here are considered sorcerers.  (My opinion is that a sorcerer here is just one who has access or is open to this spiritual world.) Apparently Birme’s grandfather goes to this Devil’s Heaven to buy longevity, but the spell only lasts for a year.  His payment each year, for the past three years, has been the lives of his grandchildren.  This year Birme was the sacrificial grandchild.The follow-up to the story is this:I paid her hospital bill and released her from the hospital right after we all prayed with her.  I wish I could tell you that she was healed instantaneously, but God works in different ways than we would hope.  She returned home, to the home where her grandfather lives.  Within weeks of her discharge, her speech returned and she was completely normal.  Both of her parents started going to church again with the knowledge that God’s love conquers all.  Her father had once been a Christian but longago left the church to follow the spirit world.  Now he is a believer in God’s power and grace. Birme and her mother visited me several days ago as a testimony of God’s love.  If God can use me to save just one soul, it’s all worth it.In His Grasp, Audrey

Shanksteps #97- War GamesHave you ever played Laser Tag?  How about Capture the Flag? War Games? Paintball? Cowboys and Indians?  You know, games where you hide behind bushes and rocks and shoot at your friends…Just 3 miles from here, several villages are playing their own war games, however they are using real bows and poisoned-tip arrows.  I know you are saying, “But this is 2008, how can this be?”  I assure you that this is the real deal.  Greg has already pulled barbed arrows out of a chest, neck, abdomen and thigh.  Most of the “warriors” refuse to come into the hospital because it would mean that they miss out on the war. Apparently the initial two villages have been enemies for years. They lasthad tribal warfare in the 1980s.  Now again, the village farther up the mountain attacked the village toward the bottom. Why are they fighting? The fight started over a field.  One village said that it was their right to plant it this year, the other refused.  As fields mean food, and food means money, it is an understandable fight. However this one has gotten out of hand. The chief of the upper village (Wopi) is recruiting all men from the village to fight. When the police or army comes to stopthe fighting, the chief tells his men to shoot at the authorities.  So far, the fighting villagers are much braver than our feeble military.  A couple of days ago they started burning down houses as well.The interesting thing to me is that there is an accepted “playing field”. This area doesn’t contain any houses.  Only certain men are chosen to fight or “participate” as they call it.  The surrounding villages have all come to watch.  It is almost as if it is all a game – although people are getting hurt and dying (and I’m sure more will die of tetanus).  At first, the war was “scheduled” to last for 4 days. Now they keep postponing the end.  We are now on day 6, with 10 more “scheduled”.The men that have come into the hospital are begging to go home to re-enter the war.  Two have already done so.  The first man came in with a hole in his chest causing collapse of his lung.  He refused most treatment (including tetanus vaccine) and fled the hospital without paying his bill.  (He recently told our guard that he plans to pay the hospital when the war is over, he was just anxious to get back to the fighting).  The next man to come in came in with a barbed arrow in his neck through hislarynx.  Greg removed the arrow and repaired the damage.  He is also trying to leave to go back and fight.  The third guy came in with an arrow sticking out of his abdomen.  Greg was able to remove it without opening his abdomen.  He had no internal damage and did well after watching him for several days.  He left the hospital today, begging to go back to the fight.  The fourth guy came in with a barbed arrow sticking out of his thigh. This was removed and he is still being treated.  There have beenmany others hurt who have refused treatment.  I don’t know what the death toll is now, but it is mostly due to overwhelming infection of the arrow entry site.When we hear of all that is happening in the world, we are reminded again that we are in the beginning of the “time of the end” where “you will hear of wars and rumors of wars” (Matt 24:6).  Please pray for the fighting to end and that these peoples hearts will be changed by the love of God.In His Grip, Audrey and the Shanks

#96 Shanksteps – Selfishness

How many times does the Holy Spirit have to scream in your ear before you finally give in?  What does it take for you to realize that you are self-centered?  For us it took the angelic face of a 12-year-old girl who appeared on our doorstep one evening.  

Her name is Dzaoda.  This courageous young girl is the very first female in her village to continue her education past elementary school.  Her mother and brother, who are from a village about one hour away by motorcycle, decided to send her to the Adventist Secondary School in Koza.   This is her first year here.  Up until now she has been living with her aunt here near here. However, last week, four weeks before the end of school, her aunt kicked her out of the house demanding that Dzaoda give her

two bags of millet or she couldn’t come back.  Dzaoda came to our house to ask if she could hide her books on our porch because she said that if she left them with her aunt, her aunt would throw them away.  (The school is right next to our house.)  She said that her mother was coming in 3 days to arrange everything with her aunt.  We offered that she could stay here until her mother came, and our guard thought it best for her to sleep on our front porch. We gave her a mat and mosquito net, and fed

her for the next several days.  

Now, at this point I know there are some of you saying, how could you leave a young girl outside like that. First, let me say that everyone here sleeps outside during the hot season.  You also have to remember that the people here live by the concept that if you “have” and I “need”, it is perfectly okay for me to “take”.  Unfortunately, the inside of our house would be too great a temptation for almost anyone, with all of the “American stuff” we have.  Even if they weren’t tempted to “borrow” any

of it, they would certainly tell all of their friends how “rich” the Americans were.  So, to avoid these and many other problems, we don’t usually invite people that we don’t know VERY well into our house. 

Several days ago we went out and she was crying. After calling our hospital chaplain over to help talk with her, we discovered that she was afraid that we would be angry with her and think she was a liar because her mother never showed up.  We assured her that we were not angry and promised to try to work things out for her.  Our Chaplain went and talked to her aunt and others who knew what was going on. Well, yesterday morning, we met the Aunt.  She said with her mouth that Dzaoda could come back

to her house, but with her tone/mannerisms, it was quite clear that she was not welcome or wanted.  So, yesterday afternoon, Greg drove Dzaoda to her village to meet with her mother and brother.  (Her father died when she was 7.)  Greg planned to drop her off, but made her promise to come by our house on Monday morning (to make sure that she was ok, and that she was planning to finish her last 3 weeks of school.)  He talked for a while with her mother and brother (all translated, as no one in the

village speaks French), and in the end, realized that she had nowhere to stay if she was to finish out the year of school.  So, Greg agreed that she could stay at our house until school ended.  

Last night, we again had Dzaoda sleep on our porch with the idea that we would try to find a good Mafa family to stay with in town.  Now, I have to tell you that for the past week as this saga has been unfolding, I have not really felt at peace about her sleeping and eating outside; despite the fact that she was okay with it; despite the fact that it was culturally appropriate; despite the fact that our guard was out there with her.  I have been continually rationalizing that it was okay, while in

my “mother’s heart” it was not.  So, after almost a week of struggling with the voice of the Holy Spirit (some would call it a conscience), we have taken her in as one of the family – rules and regulations included.   And finally, my heart is at peace with my head.  I also realized that if God wants us to take her in, then he would protect our “stuff”, or make us realize that we really don’t need it anyway.

It’s obvious that we are different from the people of Koza, but sometimes I forget how different.  I was again struck with how much we do have, and how little the people get by with.  When I was showing Dzaoda around the house, I realized that I had to teach her how to turn on the water in the sink, use the toilet, and switch on the light in the room.  We are so blessed, and yet unfortunately so selfish with our blessings.

Try not to use this reminder to point out how others are selfish, but look inside yourselves to see how you can share your blessings with those around you.

In the service of One who is completely unselfish, Audrey (and Greg and Sarah)

Shanksteps 92

For you medical people out there: What would be your differential diagnosis for an 18 month-old that presents to clinic with conjunctivitis (pink eye), sore throat, and cough?  What if I told you that her dad had been in the hospital about 3 weeks before with similar symptoms and was still not feeling well?  After 2 days this little girl developed what looked like heat rash on her face and trunk.  Of course your initial diagnosis would be to put her in isolation with the Measles.  How many of you
out there have even seen a case of the Measles?  It was a new one to me.  Fortunately (or unfortunately) some of our nurses have seen several Measles epidemics in their lifetimes and recognized it right away.   So, let’s review the fact about Measles.  It is a virus.  There is a great vaccine against it (that this child, and the subsequent 4 kids that came in, all received).  There is no real treatment for it except Vitamin A and tincture of time.  It has a 90% transmission rate to those susceptible
(not vaccinated/not immune).   It is contagious for 2 days before symptoms appear and 4 days after they disappear.  It is a VERY scary disease because there is really nothing that can be done once the symptoms appear.  We now have 4 kids in the hospital from 3 DIFFERENT villages.  The 18 month-old girl died 3 days after arrival.  The country considers it an epidemic if there are only several cases. But in Cameroun, as in most developing countries, it takes a long time to take action – vaccinate the
whole population in order to stop the spread of the disease.  So, we are presenting all of these kids to God for healing, and praying that HE stops the spread of this disease, and protects not only the family members and neighbors, but all of our employees and patients as well. Please pray with us for healing and protection.  We really need your prayers, as this could be devastating for these villages.
May God bless you all with health.
Audrey and the Shanks

As you may remember from Greg’s last Shanksteps,traveling to or from Africa is always and adventure.One would think that after his narrow escape fromCameroon 2 1/2 weeks ago that he would have beenallowed easy passage back home to Koza. Here is thestory of his return…As you know, Greg returned home to the US just in timeto be with my mom before she passed away.  He was agreat help to our family, and an incredible support tome.  The week following the funeral, we had planned toget away to the mountains to relax and spend some timetogether, however I got the flu, and Greg spent histime cooped up taking care of me.He was scheduled to leave the US last Friday.  Weawoke Friday morning to (already) 3 inches of snow onthe ground. Knowing that he had a 2 hour drive to NYCin good weather, he planned to leave (with a frienddriving him) early to catch his plane.  They plannedon leaving at 1pm for a 7pm plane.  By then, the newssaid that planes from JFK were leaving 5 hours late,but after checking with the airlines, he was told thathis plane was scheduled to leave on time.  So, off hewent, into a winter wonderland.  After 2 hours on theroad he called to say that they had gone only 40miles.  They decided to keep going and miraculouslymade it to JFK by 520pm.  I was still really skepticalthat his plane would leave on time.  His layover inBelgium was only 1 1/2 hours, so if his plane evenleft a little late, he might have missed hisconnection.  I was trying to convince him to come backto Connecticut and reschedule.  He decided to keeptrying, knowing that he needed to get back to thehospital as soon as possible.So, lo and behold, his plane took off only 10 minuteslate (despite the fact that much of the easternseaboard had been shut down with snow and ice).  Afterbeing in the air for 20 minutes, they made a wideU-turn, dumped off fuel, and returned to JFK.  Theywere told there was some kind of mechanicalmalfunction and that they would have to change planes.After reloading all the baggage and passengers, hisplane finally took off over 5 hours late.  Of coursethis meant that he missed his connecting flight intoDouala, Cameroon; and SN Brussels only flys in toCameroon 3 days a week.  So, he was told that heneeded to wait 2 days for the next flight. He was putup by the airlines and was fortunately able to meet upwith an old med school buddy stationed in Germany.Finally, Monday morning he boarded the plane to Doualawithout problems.  They landed in Douala only to findout that Douala was in the middle of riots due to ataxi strike and that protestors had set fires to cars,created barricades on all major roads, and people werebeing told to not go outside. Six people had alreadydied that morning. Greg had no where to go, and no wayto get there as his contact was unable pick him up.One of the passengers on the same plane called his owncontact and was told to get back on the plane andreturn to Europe.  Greg finally saw a Catholic sisterin the airport and asked if he could get a ride towherever she was going.  He left the airport with herand the driver of the Catholic mission, who drove”like a crazyman, not stopping for stoplights orstopsigns.”  He was told that rioters would stop carswith a fire barricade and attack those in the car.Greg said that the usually very busy, noisy Douala waslike a ghost town.Today is Tuesday, and he is still a “captive” at theCatholic mission in Douala.  He believes that he issafe as long as he doesn’t leave the compound.  Peopleare still not going out in cars. The Sister he came inwith yesterday tried to make it out of Douala thismorning but was stopped at a road block and was toldthat it was unsafe to be out.  All transportation hascome to a standstill – no cars, motorcycles, taxis,busses, trains, or domestic flights in the country.He has a ticket on a plane to the north of Cameroonthat was supposed to leave last Sunday…So, as you can see, he is still living the Adventure.Please, Please pray for his safety and that he is ableto safely get out of Douala soon, and on his way toback home to Koza.I will update you as I know anything.As Always, In His Grip,Audrey (and family)

Since the last several Shanksteps we have sent out have been of a serious nature, I thought I’d write about some fun experiences we’ve had lately.Every time a case of polio is found in our region, the whole of Koza is revaccinated against this dreaded disease.  Because the vaccine is given orally, local people can be trained to give it, and they go house to house in EVERY part of Koza to vaccinate ALL children under the age of five.  During the three day vaccination campaign, supervisors also travel around to make sure that every child in every neighborhood receives their vaccine and that it is being distributed correctly.  Each house is markedwith the number of children living there under age five, and the number actually vaccinated at the time of visit.  It is a huge undertaking, but very effective.  I was one of the supervisors, and I requested to supervise a region in the mountains (as I love the mountains).I was directed to an area of Koza that I have never seen before.  To get there, it is best to take a motorcycle to the base of the mountains (so you have an easier way to get home at the end of the day).  After that it is all on foot.  The trail up the mountain is somewhat strenuous.  I needed to use both feet and hands in several parts (probably because I’m a weak American…). Anyhow, once partway up the mountain, the view is absolutely incredible.  At the top of the mountain range, the land dipsdown a bit and there is a fairly large village nestled among the rocky outcroppings.  In all, I had 5 cartiers (or neighborhoods) to survey.  We (me and a translator, Dougdje) decided to go to the farthest area first.  What a walk.  We wound our way up the side of another mountain and ended up pulling ourselves up over the outer wall of a house (hut).  We had found the center of this cartier.  The people up there were incredibly nice. No one really stared.  No one followed us gawking.  No one askedfor money or gifts.  They were just hospitable, simple people.  They explained to me the different activities they were involved in.  One group was shaving the bark off of dried branches that would later be ground into a fine powder to be made into sauce.  I was able to see a man spinning cotton yarn from the cotton he had grown and just recently harvested.  I saw the tiny loom only 2 inches wide that the local people weave on.  I watched as the women and girls of the village sewed these pieces offabric together to make clothing. One of the women brought out the finished product, a beautiful gandara (local long robe).  This is given by the groom-to-be to his future father-in-law as part of the dowry.  This is a very special piece of clothing that is only worn for the highest of holidays, and as a burial shroud.   After seeing all of these interesting things, I did a little bit of surveillance in this village for the vaccination program.  We then continued on to another cartier where we sawthe “forgerons” (translated blacksmith, but in this society are the ones to make the axes, pottery, bury the dead, and deliver the babies…).  They were in the process of making the large clay pots that hold water, which sit at the entrance to every house.  The forgerons are considered a “lower” class, and no self-respecting Mafa is allowed to voluntarily mingle with these families.  It is completely forbidden for marriage between a forgeron and non-forgeron.  It was very interesting watching themmake these huge pots by hand (no potter’s wheel).  We then continued on to visit the Lawan of this village.  The Lawan is the highest-ranking political official for the region.  He is a local man, chosen by the government.  I chose to visit him just because I was “in the neighborhood” although his hut was way up the side of yet another mountain.  I found a very nice man, surrounded by his five wives and some of their kids.  He had grown up in that very house and counted 140 people in his “immediate”family. We visited for a while and upon leaving, he gave me the gift of a rooster.  I told him that I would return to visit him with my family.  After that we left the mountain for “civilization”.  I had a wonderful day.  Didn’t get much work done, but found a reason for being here in Cameroun.Last Wednesday, we decided to go up the mountain as a family. (Wednesday is our day off.)  I wanted to show my family all of the things I had seen on the mountain.  So Greg, Sarah, Katie (peace corps worker), Vambi (Camerounian friend and translator), and I went up the mountain for the “real” African experience.  We were able to see a whole family in the process of making the clothing I had seen the previous time.  This time I was able to see how the loom worked.  They weave with 40 strings at atime, and they use their hands and feet to maneuver the loom and shuttle.  In this particular family, two young boys spun the yarn, the father wove the fabric, and the wife and the daughter sewed the strips of fabric together to make the gandara.  It was fascinating to watch.  Then we went on the visit the Lawan.  He was so surprised to see me return.  He told our translator that he thought I was joking when I said that I would bring my family back to meet him.  We talked with him for a while andthen, out of the door of his house he brought me a ram as a gift.  I wanted to refuse it as this is a HUGE gift, but it would have been culturally inappropriate to do so.  He said that because we didn’t come during mealtime, he felt that he had to give us some kind of food.  So, we made a deal that the next time I visited, it would be only for a visit, not for food.  I then decided to invite him to our house for lunch the following week.  It was quite interesting walking down the mountain with aram that didn’t want to leave home.  In the end we paid a young boy to carry the animal down off the mountain for us.Today the Lawan, his son, Dougdje, and Vambi came to our house for lunch.  This was the first time that the Lawan has ever been inside a white man’s house, let alone eaten with one.  I think he felt honored, but also somewhat uncomfortable here.  We just have SO much, and they so little.  For lunch we had planned to give him the “all American” meal of spaghetti, bread, and salad.  We were advised, however, to have some kind of meat at the meal, as a vegetarian meal would not “honor” our guests.So, this morning, our cook whipped up a great meat dish in addition to spaghetti.  It was very interesting watching the Lawan and his son eat here.  They are completely unused to utensils and therefore ate with their hands (we had told them they could).  I also think they had never had spaghetti before (kind of a weird food if it’s the first time you’ve ever seen it).  We had a very nice visit, but it really opened my eyes again to how totally different our cultures are.  I have become used to thepeople in the “city” of Koza, who have at least been influenced by Western culture.  But the mountain people are still largely untouched by prior colonialism.  What a breath of fresh air.  I often think that with the good that western culture brought to Africa, came a whole lot of bad.  I hope you’ve enjoyed this trip to the mountains with me.  I will surely return when I can. —AudreyOh, by the way, during our dinner, we were discussing Camerounian delicacies.  There is something called potasse that is made by slow cooking your cow feces for many hours.  Then you filter water through what is left.  Apparently it gives off a wonderful taste used for soups and sauces, not to mention that it is used to calm the stomach and intestines.  (Now who was the first to think of doing that…?)  The other side dish that was discussed is apparently only eaten at the big festivals when killinga goat or lamb.  The goat is killed by cutting the jugular vein in the neck.  The blood is collected and allowed to clot.  Then it is mixed with the stool filled intestines (although now in the “city” the intestines are cleaned out).  And voila, a tasty side dish, suitable for kids and adults alike.  Take heart, most Christians no longer partake in this meal, although the ones we talked to said that it’s delicious…  

#81 Shanksteps – leaving CamerounWe just wanted to give all of you an update on what our plans are for the near future.  As many of you may remember, my (Audrey’s) mom was diagnosed with lung cancer just before we moved here in 2005.  At that time she underwent surgery, chemotherapy and radiation therapy.  She suffered through the treatments, but did well afterwards.  While we were home on vacation in June, we found out that she has metastases and has had to suffer through another round of chemo. This time she is not toleratingit well, and the first medication didn’t work.  With much prayer we have decided that it would be best for Sarah and I to return to the US to help out my mom and dad (and give medical and moral support) while she is going through this.  All three of us will be leaving Cameroun the 30th of December.  Greg will return to Koza around the 13th of Jan and Sarah and I will remain in the US as long as necessary.  Please pray for my family both here in Koza and in Connecticut, as this will be a difficulttime for everyone. —Audrey