Merci

Thanksgiving. It's never been much of a nostalgic holiday for me - well, not the kind that woke me up before the sun when I was a little girl, and not the kind that holds much family tradition. Instead, each year has created its very own distinct flavor. This year is no different...

Hannah and I woke up with an exciting challenge ahead of us: an oven-less Thanksgiving. We were prepared. We had done all the menu planning, the fridge was brimming with groceries for the occasion, and at last, the day had come to put our somewhat far-fetched ideas on trial. The turkey and stuffing were accounted for. Eva, our host, would take care of them. But the corn, the green bean casserole, the sweet potatoes, the pumpkin pie and the cranberry sauce were to be the ultimate test of our culinary skills.

As you can imagine, pumpkins, cranberries and sweet potatoes are an impossibility to find in any of our local, tropical markets. We went to the newest and biggest supermarket around without any luck. Thankfully, we had an old can of cranberry sauce that had been sitting on our spice rack since we arrived in the Philippines in June. Since it had only slightly exceeded its expiration date, we decided that a little extra sugar and spice would do the trick :)

We managed to find some squash that was, at least, in the shape of a pumpkin. We also found some pink potatoes that turned out to be quite deliciously sweet! We boiled, mashed, and creamed them together to make the sweet potatoes, and then used the left over to make our specialty graham-cracker crust pumpkin cheesecake pie.

Our "Pumpkin" Squash & Sweet Potatoes

Our Graham-Cracker Crust Pumpkin Cheesecake Pie

All in all, it turned into a wonderful new memory... but the best was yet to come! We arrived at Eva's house at 6:00. After visiting for a bit and laying all the goods out on their dining table, we were ready to fill our plates and tummies. As we closed our eyes in prayer, my phone vibrated - one of my patients was in active labor back at the clinic... I had to run!

And run I did. Hannah and I sprinted down the alley to the main street and caught the first empty cab we could find. The hundreds of other cars on the street didn't seem to care that a baby was about to be born, and that I desperately wanted to be there for it all! After anxiously sitting through patches of traffic, we finally arrived at the tricycle terminal and hopped on the nearest one to finish our ride home. Completely out of breath, we tiptoed into the birth room hoping that we weren't too late.

Rose was a patient that I had been seeing since June. She was 13 weeks pregnant when we found out via an Ultrasound that her placenta was completely covering the opening of her uterus, which would ultimately result in the need of a C-section. She had neither the money nor the emotional strength to consider a C-section, so we began praying together each week, asking the Lord to move her placenta upwards as her baby grew... Her labor began on Thanksgiving day, 3 weeks before her due date. She had gotten a second ultrasound that very morning, but I had yet to see the results...

As I walked into the birthroom, I prayed again that Rose's labor would be smooth, normal and beautiful! The second ultrasound revealed a high-lying placenta - all was well! And, less than an hour after our arrival, a beautiful little blessing took her very first breath of air. She was perfect!

Once the commotion and excitement of the birth subsided, I asked Rose if she had thought of any names for her baby girl. She thought for a brief moment, then turned to me and said, "You, you will name her." What an honor. What a joy. What a privilege not only to be the first to hold her, but the one to give her a name that would last her entire lifetime! I didn't know what to do, what to say... Overwhelmed, I explained that I would need some time to think of the perfect name for this little miracle. I knew I wanted it to express my thanks to God for answered prayer, and her being born on Thanksgiving day was no coincidence :) I thought and thought, and finally, with Hannah's help, I decided to add what's left of the French in me and named her Merci Joy. Merci.

No time for scrubs, but just in time for Merci Joy

Happy Thanksgiving!

Photo Gallery

For anyone interested, I've just posted a photo gallery of all the pictures I've taken so far... I've tried and tried to whittle them down to an acceptable amount... but when I look at how many I still have, all my efforts seem to be have been in vain... *sigh*

Enjoy!

Another Day...

It's only 19:51, but my body is aching to nestle into bed, into that peaceful mosquito-net cocoon of mine that so gently envelops my tired frame night after night... Yes, it's been a long day.

It started at 2:00 this morning, when the all-familiar buzz and flutter of my phone pulled me from a deep sleep. It was Hannah, calling me to the clinic to assist her with her patient's labor. I rolled my heavy body off of the top bunk and as my feet plunked onto the concrete floor, blood finally started pumping through my sluggish limbs. As I carefully directed my energy toward finding two separate pantlegs, I blinked my eyes a couple times in hopes of dissolving the comatose expression from my face. I gathered my things and stepped out into the dark night. A couple of dog barks and rooster croaks later, I was at the door of the clinic. Ruby, a mom of 4 (soon to be 5), was laying on her side, holding her belly and wincing through a contraction. My face tightened into an awkward, early-morning-smile and I began charting: fetal heart-tones, mother's position changes, maternal blood pressure, intensity and interval of contractions, etc.
3 hrs and 20 mins later, baby Kirsten Abby took her first, gargly breath.

2 hrs after that, we left the clinic with that "post-birth" spring in our step, ready to start the day!

Hannah and I went for a morning jog in the cemetery - refuge of peace and quiet in the midst of a busy city - of a busy life.

We showered, checked our emails, and were off to Starbucks before 10:00. Yes, after 5 months of intense heat, humidity and sweat, the guilt of making an occasional visit to an air-conditioned oasis has vanished. And for those of you who are offended by the fact that this particular oasis happens to be Starbucks... well, what's in a name?

After spending time with the Lord and sipping a delicious 1/2 decaf cappuccino (that also means 1/2 caffeinated - yes, desperate times call for desperate measures), we dove into our Microbiology study books and plugged through 2 chapters of intense confusion together. By the time we left, it was 15:00 and it was time to go grocery shopping for the upcoming week. We quickly planned a menu and walked over to Cherry Foodarama, our preferred food supplier. An hour later, we were home again, at last. We loaded the fridge, and I was off again to visit one of my own patients who delivered yesterday. The sun was setting, my legs were complaining. But as I stepped through their front door, the Lord infused me with His joy and strength, and it turned out to be a wonderful time.

I came home at dusk, just in time to help make and eat dinner.

It's almost 20:57 and after 2 months of bloglessness, I find myself before my computer screen once again after a long, long day with a simple story.

Thank you, Lord for Another Day... Thank you, Lord for This Day!

TinRooftopia

Last Monday, the entire Filipino population that we've befriended in the past few months was at our doorstep... it was Moving Day for the Americanos!
We started at 9:00 in the morning and with all hands on deck, we were completely moved in by noon! The typhoon off the coast had drenched Manila in heavy rains and floods for the previous 2 weeks, but not a single drop fell to the ground on Monday.... instead, the Lord gave us a crisp blue sky and lots of brilliant sunshine!

We've been in our new house just one week, and it already feels like home. We're next door to the clinic and if we peek off our porch, we can see the birthroom just across the way!Roosters compete all day for the loudest cock-a-doodle-doo, and the smoke of cooking fires drifts through our windows, reminding us of the simplicity of life. I could go on and on, but instead of making a futile attempt at describing every last detail, I will give you a virtual tour through my new little home...

Our kitchen & dining room:

If you can spot the colorful mugs hanging from the cabinet,
you will see my favorite part of the kitchen...

The little white door leads to the CR (Comfort Room):

This shot is from the front door into the house; the kitchen is on your
right, and the living room is in the back of the room...

Behind the little white door:

We have running water from noon through the night,
but the sewage system still requires bucket flushing...

A book shelf to keep us studious:

Required reading, book reports, textbooks, workbooks...
... and the clock, our faithful challenger

Our Bedroom:

Oh the delight of crawling into my mosquito-netted cocoon each night,
with the cool evening breeze floating into my room... I'm on the top bunk

Dinner Time:

Here is our little stove-top, with a view that inspires culinary
excellence; and our dining table... no, it's never really this clean :)

And finally, our lovely view:

Tin roofs, palm trees, smoke and clouds... We now live in the slums of Pingki-an, a small village that most of the women we serve call home.
In the last picture, you can see our front door on the right, and the birthroom
window on the left... it doesn't get any better!


My New Address:
Deborah Kay Lohnes
#26 Pingki-an I
Tandang Sora, Pasong Tamo
Quezon City, PHILIPPINES 1107

Gastronomical Coincidence

This entry marks the beginning of a new blog 'trend' for me. Instead of the lengthy, infrequent entries I have previously been inclined to writing, I have resolved to offer you the more day-to-day anecdotes of my life. Not only will it be more favorable to my sporadic schedule, but I am hopeful that it will also paint a more colorful picture of daily life here in Manila. With that said, I will inaugurate the occasion with this simple but delightful little incident…

It all started last Sunday, when our program director, Vicki, treated us to a movie in an enormous, A/C-ed movie theater. We arrived at the mall right in time to take our seats in the dark room and quickly got comfortable for the ‘Feature Presentation:’ Ratatouille. The story itself was somewhat of a paradox of emotion for me: the Parisian setting making me slightly homesick for a nice stroll through the Quartier Latin; the theme of a rat infestation making me home-sick in a very literal way for what could easily become a reality here in my new home …:)

But that’s beside the point. Remy, the hero of the movie, is a dreamy little rat with high hopes… his taste buds are refined, his sense of smell superior, and when opportunity knocks, he is quick to become a gourmet chef in a 5 star restaurant! For those of you who have seen it, you can understand how easily this little guy’s fairytale inspirations became my own. You see, Hannah and I have the great pleasure of both choosing menus and cooking meals each night. Instantly, we were both craving a good Ratatouille… but how to make the best without an oven?

A couple days later, I was browsing online for the best ‘stove-top Ratatouille’ recipe in the book (…or on the world-wide-web in this case). Nothing seemed quite right, but I hadn’t given up completely. As I opened yet another promising page, up popped a chat window – it was Rebecca, my very own sister, saying ‘hi.’ I explained to her my dilemma, and to my delight, she answered that she always makes Ratatouille on the stove. Perfect! I jotted down the recipe, tips included… the perfect interactive recipe, at last! But the fun didn’t end there. Becca, who had been looking for a stove-top recipe to make in her own ovenless home was equally inspired… and it all started last Sunday.

That night, Vicki and her husband, Scott, came back for dinner. The vegetables simmered, the rice boiled, and the fish browned into a most satisfying Ratatouille. But the best part of the story is this: On August 8^th, 2007, 2 sisters, separated by miles of vast ocean, were brought together around a gastronomical coincidence, a culinary delight. A simple, provincial dish, though delectable in its own essence, bridged the gaping expanse between us.

Ratatouille à la Lohnes

2 Large Zucchinis – thinly sliced
2 Large Eggplants - thinly sliced
2 Medium Red Peppers
2 Cans Stewed Tomatoes, drained
Fresh Basil, chopped
Fresh Oregano, chopped
Fresh Rosemary
3 Cloves Garlic
3 Medium Red Onions – sliced
1 TBsp. Butter
2 TBsp. Olive Oil
1 Can Artichoke Hearts
Salt & Pepper to taste

1. Slice all the vegetables into rounds. Place aside.
2. Place the eggplant in a strainer, salt it, and let it drain.
3. On medium heat, simmer the onions, garlic, fresh spices and butter together until soft and fragrant.
4. Layer the zucchini, eggplant, peppers and stewed tomatoes on top of the onion & spice mix.
5. Drizzle the olive oil on top of vegetables, adding a dash of salt & pepper.
6. On low heat, cover to let steam and simmer approx. 20-25 minutes (until all vegetables are tender), mixing every now and then to prevent burning or sticking.
7. Serve with rice and fish.

Bon Appetit!
I love you Becca Joy-of-my-life...

A Few of My Favorite Things...

In my 23 years, I have come to consider being a Missionary Kid, or a missionary of any kind for that matter, as being synonymous with flexibility. That the bends and twists that are required of such a lifestyle extract any need for stability, any difficulty with adaptation, any unrealistic expectations. That being said, 'flexible' ought to be my middle name… But nope. My middle name is Kay, and I’m still learning.
My journey has not been without progress, though. I have learned to tame those expectations, to assume instability, and have patience in adapting. And now that I have been here one month, I thought it a good time to evaluate my learning curve and make an assessment of my familiarization with life in the Philippines.

Here are the things I had no trouble falling in love with:
The People: Filipinos are a beautiful people, warm, friendly, smiling, and so eager to practice their English with us, ‘Americanos.’ Poverty is evidenced in the most basic everyday needs, but their faces are radiant with joy despite their struggles. Their homes are simple, holding just a couple faded pictures and maybe an advertisement poster on the wall as decoration. They will undoubtedly offer a ‘merienda’ (snack) of crackers and coke to any passing guest, which you will gladly accept, even if it’s your fifth of the day! Children fill the streets, finding delight in playing with a stick and a tire or with a nearby kitten who has gotten lost again. Soon, they will put on their matching uniforms and make their way to school, piling onto triceys 5 or 6 at a time.

1) Gerlene (our Filipina Midwife) & Jhun (her husband & our "Midnight Rider" for births)
2) Cecille (another Filipina Midwife) & her family
3) Nelly & Reuben (our landlords)

The Transportation: Triceys and Jeepneys. Colorful. Noisy. Cheap. Exhilarating. You can stand at any corner of any street and flag down a passing Tricey (approx. 1-4 passengers comfortably). With its cloud of exhaust and rumbling motor, it will carry you to buy groceries for 40¢ or to the outdoor market for just 20¢. Or, you can take a Jeepney (approx. 1-15 passengers, comfortably) to the mall for 18¢. The driving can be unpredictable, and I have still just seen one traffic sign: it was a regular STOP sign with the word ‘full’ added above for emphasis.

The Food: Even though we cook each night for ourselves, we’ve gotten to taste some of the

most delicious Filipino specialties, which include Adobo (a savory meat & vegetable dish with rice), Pancit (a noodle dish), Buko Pie (a delicious coconut pie made with flaky crust and pieces of young, tender coconut meat), Mango Shakes (my all-time favorite), and an occasional pig's head, just to name a few.

Footwear: Wearing flip-flops every single day. Does it get any better?

Eating Outside: Our kitchen is outside to keep the heat from coming into the house. We have a lovely patio that is covered with a tin roof and it makes the most wonderful pitter-patter noises each time it rains. Our dining table is outside, too, with a globe lamp that hangs from the clothesline and a couple candles for ambience. I love it.

Some things that took some extra effort to get used to:

Unwelcome Creatures: They come in all shapes and sizes, from all directions, at all times, with all sorts of intentions. Mosquitoes and ants are a given; both are ravenous for our ever-replenishing, ever-fresh blood supply. Though there’s no real way to avoid their bite, my new night-time routine involves brushing my teeth, washing my face, putting on my PJs and lathering up with OFF. It seems to help. We have one, big, black, hideous rat that has taken up residence close-by and makes his ugly appearance every night while dinner is on the stove. A small mouse who likes to nibble away at any stray crumb, but makes sure to leave his evidence behind for us to clean up. Cockroaches (did you know that they can fly?), lizards, geckos, a gypsy moth… But what happened last week was the biggest surprise of all. I was taking a shower: place of cool refuge, of peace, of tranquility. I had a tune in my head and a lather in my hair, when out of the drain popped out a snake. Yes. It was a snake. Not a worm. A snake. Granted, it was small – maybe a bit longer than my own foot, but it had a diamond-shaped head, a slithering body, and was most unwelcome. While it curled up our shampoo rack, I finished showering. As soon as I was done, our brave hero, Sarah Ann, grabbed it in a bag and beat it with a wooden beam. I think a screen over the shower drain is in order.

The Fumes: One might think that covering my nose and mouth with a rag in public as a means of life-preservation would be rude. That it would communicate an ‘imperialistic white-skin’ attitude to my Filipino neighbours. It’s true that I had an aversion to the thought of it when I first arrived, wanting to adapt as quickly and as well as I could. But, after a single ride in a tricey (as fun as it is), with my nostrils perfectly angled to inhale every puff of exhaust in the hot, congested traffic, I realized there is really nothing else to do. Better yet, the locals do it, too. They even sell special ‘face cloths’ in the stores as a multi-purpose wipe-your-sweaty-face-protect-your-lungs sort of rag. It’s nice when adapting to the culture involves ones natural reflexes.

The CR: The CR is an abbreviation for Comfort Room, what we know as Rest Room, Bathroom, Water Closet, Toilet, etc. I’m a bit curious about the ‘comfort’ part, but still very grateful that there is running water – a luxury here. It is a ‘wet room.’ In other words, the toilet and showerhead are less than 2 feet apart, so that if you really wanted, you could actually sit on the toilet while taking your shower! The single shower knob shows the all-familiar ‘H’ for Hot, but of course, there is no hot water… we wouldn’t have it any other way, though; a cold shower is the highlight of any day.
The hardest part to embrace in this particular experience is our strict ban on throwing our toilet paper (any kind of toilet paper) into the toilet. It would clog it up. This makes a trashcan an indispensable addition to any CR, as well as the most unpleasant house chore.

Things I’m not quite used to… yet (as a precursor, I am working on shortening this list, but it would be dishonest not to include it):

The heat: It sometimes feels unbearable, making it hard to concentrate on studies or feel 100% in general.

Schedule: Finding time to do everything I need to do (prenatals, postapartums visits, unpredictable births, two 24 hr rotation/week at the clinic, a statistics course, microbiology, reading & writing 20 book reports, finishing course modules, home visits, and let’s not forget eating & sleeping…)
Cheese & Coffee: cheese prices are exorbitant; so is Decaf coffee. The only affordable cheese is similar to Kraft squares, which was one area I had already failed to adapt to while in America. But, they have U.H.T milk (my favorite), so I won't be too hard on them :)

Overall, I am still completely excited to be here. Each birth is a classroom where I am learning new skills, new approaches, new management. Each buntis (pregnant woman) provides not only a chance to practice the little bit of Tagalog I've learned, but also a great chance to pray, to encourage, to build relationships. I want to be flexible. I want to adapt. I want to understand, to relate, to encourage, to minister. I want flexible to grow into incarnational.

A Toast to Life!

Meet Gagay. She is a beautiful 16 year old, strong, happy, adorable. I met her for the first time in her home, just a few streets behind the clinic. Her house is a simple one, built up on stilts, where a couple chickens can be found squawking their way around the narrow beams. She greets us with a warm smile and a bulging tummy, and we will soon learn that she is already 38 weeks pregnant!

I visited her twice in the following 2 weeks, checking heart tones, taking her blood pressure, ruling our danger signs... I couldn't wait to see the precious little being that was curled up so perfectly inside her womb. To see the little body that I could feel wiggling against my fingertips during exams...

It's 3:00 am Thursday morning, June 28, 2007. My cellphone rings and as my mind creeps out of its deep haze, I read the message that lights up my screen: "Gagay's in labor. Come quickly." A surge of adrenaline pumps through my body and I'm up in a flash. I jump into a pair of scrubs, grab my toothbrush, my birth bag, Gagay's folder and we're off into the night. We walk fast, squinting with each passing headlight, until finally we see the soft glow of a vacant tricycle that will hurry us past the cemetery and on to the clinic.

One hour later, after a succession of adamant contractions, baby Christine has taken her first breath! The miracle of life is once again celebrated, with all its wonder and in all its glory. The Creator looks down with pure pleasure on the perfection of His work, her tiny nose, two grasping hands, 10 perfect toes.

And so goes the story of my very first delivery... how did I ever afford to hold such a blessing. That my feeble hands would catch the wonder wrapped up in life itself! I don't know, but I'm so grateful.

As soon as Christine was finished with her first nursing, we boiled some water and I got to give her her first bath! The tub was just big enough for her, and once she was clean and dry, I started her newborn exam. I examined a head full of hair, dark little slanted eyes, the smooth bend of her ears, and her pink pursed lips. In a nut shell, Christine is perfect in every way.

For You formed my inward parts;
You wove me in my mother's womb.
I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Wonderful are Your works,
And my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from You,
When I was made in secret,
And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth;
Your eyes have seen my unformed substance;
And in Your book were all written
The days that were ordained for me,
When as yet there was not one of them.

Psalm 139:13-16

Giving Christine her first bath and checking her lungs...

Precious first moments together...

Gagay regaining her strength -

time for me to steal a moment with Christine

A perfect welcome to a new day, and a snap shot with my indispensable reinforcement, Shi

Click Here to See Christine