Gimbie Reports

Becky Carlton is a volunteer nurse at Gimbie hospital. Her third world savvy and positive attitude is a great blessing. One morning Becky came into my office looking rather pale and shaky. She mentioned that she had given a lot of blood. The Ethiopian staff told me the rest of the story that afternoon. A patient with a ruptured uterus had been bleeding profusely for several hours. She had a rare blood type. Her husband was a match and gave all he could but the staff were unable to line up other donors. Shortly after midnight, one of Becky’s housemates came in and reported that the woman was about to die. The staff were giving her Miranda (orange soda) but she was still slipping fast. Becky has type O blood—universal donor. She jumped out of bed and ran through the compound, waking a doctor and lab tech. They rushed to the woman’s bedside. The transfusion went smoothly. Becky’s blood saved the woman’s life. The staff were astonished that a “farenji” (foreigner) had taken the trouble to save this woman’s life. After all, the woman might die anyway.
As the staff retold the story, I couldn’t help thinking of Christ’s death. His blood paid the price for our sins. He made this sacrifice knowing that many of us would refuse His offer of life. Yet we often take this for granted, and we rarely get as excited as the hospital staff did the morning after Becky’s donation.
Becky isn’t God, but her missionary attitude is spreading God’s love to the rest of the hospital. Please pray for Becky, and pray that God sends us more volunteers like her.

I am sitting at Paul’s office desk, looking out the window across the verdant valley of Gimbie. A cheerful robin-chat is voraciously nibbling at an avocado still attached to one of the trees in the foreground. The gray sky is threatening to break with thunderclaps at any moment. It is not the thunder which makes these tropical storms so loud, however; it is the raindrops pounding the tin roof that are deafening.

It is the end of our second week here at the hospital. Face by face, we are beginning to learn the names and personalities of staff. Foreign pronunciations are slightly more familiar upon the tongue. We rattle off names such as Tsegaye, Ayelleuch, and Endgedai with pride. We quiz each other regularly on the phrases needed for exchanging pleasantries in the hospital hallway. Hopefully, we will be able to begin language lessons with an instructor sometime next week.

The knowledge of our presence has begun to disseminate throughout the village. Yesterday we received three requests for financial support within the space of a few hours. One of the pleas rent our hearts. A single mother, paralyzed in both legs, is unable to work and provide food for her three small children. According to reliable sources at the hospital, the two previous administrators supplied the woman with a monthly stipend. We would of course love to help her too. However, rather than simply give her handouts (and thus encourage her children to develop a dependant attitude), we would prefer to find some means in which she could support herself: a handcraft or manual trade. Please be praying for us as we explore options. Also, feel free to offer suggestions! I’m sure there are many more women like her in the area.

Ethiopia is currently suffering from high grain prices. Food is much more expensive now than it has ever been in the past, and many people are complaining of hunger. Paul and I are trying to be cautious with how much we allow our cook to spend at the market. Thankfully, mangos are still quite cheap. On Tuesday, we purchased 16 mangos for a total of 5 birr (roughly 50 US cents). We are still trying to adjust to eating them at the proper, Ethiopian stage of ripeness: the mango must be still quite green inside, and should crunch like an apple when you take a bite. We are nearly converted. The nice thing about eating them at this stage is that there is much less of a need for flossing afterwards.

We appreciate all of your thoughts and prayers,
Petra and Paul

Greetings from Gimbi, Ethiopia! We arrived here 16 days ago after a memorable 10-hour ride by Land Crusier from Addis Ababa. Half the road was nicely paved by the Chinese development project. The other half – a stew of red mire, man-swallowing potholes, and steep drop-offs. The good thing was that neither of us had any need of supplemental entertainment. Our eyes were glued to the windows throughout the entire trip. Farm fields, mango groves, wild flowers, and rolling hills painted the back drop. Colobus monkeys, fly-catchers, and pied crows played the supporting cast. But the lead roles were of star material – goats, cows, donkeys, and people performed magnificently, exhibiting incredible agility at the mere beep of our driver’s horn.

Upon our arrival at the hospital compound, we were greeted by innumerable smiling faces, proclaiming “baga nagaan dhuftan!” (welcome!). We were quickly ushered into our house, where we found a ready meal prepared by our appointed cook. She has proved to be graciously sweet, skilled at seasoning, and quite predictable. Every lunch we have injera and weut (a spongy, tortilla bread and spicy sauce), every supper we have lentils and rice, and every breakfast we have leftovers from the two preceding meals. She is actually doing quite well with the limited availability of food out here. I accompanied her to the market yesterday, and noticed a striking uniformity of available products. However, we have no complaints! We arrived in the very midst of mango and avocado season. Despite the competition offered by our local troop of monkeys, we still have more than we can eat.

Electricity and running water seem to take turns being available in our house. We have learned to dash to the shower room whenever they are both on simultaneously – no matter what time of day. We are beginning to understand why people in former ages suffered from lack of cleanliness: the motivation to bathe wanes greatly when your only means of doing so consists of manually pouring cold water from a washing bowl.

We have very much enjoyed getting to know the staff at the hospital. It’s clearly evident that God is using this institution to reach souls, despite the struggling state of its finances. On Tuesday, I accompanied our chaplain on her rounds of the hospital wards. We prayed with each an every patient. The joyful glow of peace on their faces as we closed each prayer left a strong impression. So many Ethiopians are interested in hearing more about the truth. This is an open country, ready for sowing and harvest.

Many pressing issues face the hospital: there is a grave lack of qualified nursing staff, doctors, buildings, and simple, general materials. In fact, at the current moment, the hospital does not even have a medical director, committed surgeon, or qualified anesthetist. Please keep these issues in your prayers, and put us in touch with anyone who may be willing to help.

God bless,
Petra and Paul Howe