David's reflections

Much has already been written our day-to-day activities so I'll just share a few thoughts from my journal.

Playing with the kids after the last day of work in Mwanza (videos below) was a big moment for me. For the first time on the trip, I feel like I completely saw past the color of their skin. I forgot everything about albinism and poor vision. On the field, we were all people, just playing, singing, and dancing. No doctor or student, American or African, yellow or black or white. And there was something so profound and beautiful in that. I felt ashamed at my subtle discrimination, how I identified children by their condition even though I should know better.

In that moment, I could clearly see their dignity as human beings made in God’s image. That is what the country needs to see for themselves, though their prejudices are deeply engrained and reinforced by lies. Part of the problem is that PWAs surely believe they are inherently inferior because that’s how they have been treated their whole lives. Now I better understand what UTSS is trying to accomplish and how hard it will be. I'm reminded of the people with illnesses in the Bible who were thought to be unclean. Through physical healing, Jesus also gave them spiritual and social healing.


I went on the trip expecting to understand the full gravity of the situation in Tanzania. Back at home, I could see pictures, watch videos, and read articles about the terrible things that happened to children with albinism, but it always seemed a world away. An unexpected reality check came during the morning of departure when I saw the news of the shooting in Colorado. It reminded me that life is precious and time is fleeting.

Even after working with the children, however, it was easy to forget why UTSS has to place them in protected schools. And that's the point - the threat of mutilation and murder has been removed. I did not witness the fear of a gang with machetes coming in the middle of the night. Nor did I see discrimination against PWAs, who are considered the lowest members of society. I knew these things existed in my mind, but what I experienced first-hand did not match. Only when I came across the few students with machete scars or missing limbs did the danger become tangible. Then I could more deeply connect with UTSS's mission and understand how essential each component of their program is.

Their scholarship fund takes PWAs through school so they can become educated, working members of society. Healthcare supports this endeavor by removing barriers to learning. There is also the task of educating the public and correcting widely held myths through literature and other media. In the end, I had mixed emotions about where our team and I fit into the bigger picture. I felt indispensable at times as a highly educated doctor-to-be from the States.  Sometimes I swayed to the other end of the spectrum and felt overwhelmed and useless when I thought about how much time and work it would take to change, in some sense, a whole country. I'm trying to maintain a balanced perspective instead of these extreme. I may play a small role in the grand scheme of things, but that role is important and necessary. I should not and cannot do nothing just because I can't do everything.

Some final thoughts

Our final day of clinic at Under The Same Sun (UTSS) began like any other.  We were told that we would see one, maybe two kids with albinism, but were greeted by five (there were always more) patients, waiting patiently in plastic chairs.  The first few kids came upstairs and we (me, David and Michelle) each had our "final exams" with Dr. Kammer checking our cover tests and retinoscopy findings and wrapping up with trial frame refractions.  I went downstairs to check on the remaining patient, when Anna pulled me aside.  There was one kid waiting, donning sunglasses, with skin noticeably singed by the sun in several prominent spots.  Underneath the sunglasses, the boy had a tumor that started near his eye, but had now completely overcome his lower right lid margin and the globe of his eye.  There wasn't much that we could do for him other than pray for him and connect him with the local public hospital.  I spent the rest of the day in a fog, unable to shake my sad and helpless state.

Anna actually told me just recently that she was praying every morning to see miracles and this episode was just such a miracle.  The boy had worked for months (years?) in the field, in all likelihood completely unshielded by the sun's rays.  He had visited a local clinic where they provided him with an ointment, but the medicine did nothing and he continued to pick at the wound and work the fields until he could no longer ignore the situation.  By the time he started his journey to the big city (Dar Es Salaam), his vision in his right eye was long gone and he had no idea of his final destination.  At the bus station, he asked around, pleading for assistance.  Another man felt compassion and took him to UTSS where Dr. Kammer and our team would also soon arrive.  Becky told me that initially the UTSS staff was going to send the boy on his way.  The cancer hospital would cost a minimum of $1,700 a day and there was no budget for such a situation (to be perfectly honest, my mind also constantly drifted to the cost).  But after some debate and expert consultation, they decided that they would cover any living and travel expenses necessary to send the child to the local public hospital, where he was eventually admitted.  The fact that we and, in particular, Dr. Kammer (an eye doctor!) were there at that exact, providential moment was completely lost upon me until Anna brought all of this to light.

I recall reading Psalm 121 that evening and these verses struck me deeply:

"5 The Lord watches over you—
    the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
⁶ the sun will not harm you by day,
    nor the moon by night.

⁷ The Lord will keep you from all harm —
    he will watch over your life"

And I know from Hebrews 11 that faith is "confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see."

So what I ask for is continued prayer over this boy, for miraculous healing of his cancer and good discernment from his treatment team.  Please ask for doors to be opened, for hearts to be stirred into action and resources made available for his treatment and recovery.  Pray for unwavering hope in his heart and increasing faith, both for him and for us.

*****

On our final afternoon in Dar Es Salaam, UTSS's Tanzania Executive Director, Vicky Ntetema, reported on her meeting with the Ministry of Health and Social Welfare.  I was just in awe of all that God is doing through UTSS in supporting people with albinism and making known their plight and their needs.  High ranking officials agreed to regularly distribute sunblock to people with albinism, to mobilize liquid nitrogen (?) tanks for treatment of skin cancer and to increase healthcare staffing at schools where kids with albinism are being housed.  We also heard news that the prime minister adopted three children with albinism and has been learning firsthand about the vision needs and cancer risks faced by people with albinism.  His adopted daughter recently came home from school with a sizable skin lesion, and he took immediate action to find care for her and find out what was going on at the school that a child could develop such a condition and not be treated with the parents not even notified.

In so many ways, awareness is growing and the situation is getting better and better for people with albinism in Tanzania, but there seems to be so much more work yet to be done.  The prime minister himself said that he was learning more everyday about his children with albinism, their needs and their gifts.

*****

I've shared in other forums about the song, "God of this City".  It was written as it was being performed by Bluetree, an Irish Christian band, as they played in a brothel in Pattaya, Thailand.

The lyrics read,

"You're the God of this City
You're the King of these people
You're the Lord of this nation
You are

You're the Light in this darkness
You're the Hope to the hopeless
You're the Peace to the restless
You are

There is no one like our God
There is no one like our God

For greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this City
Greater thing have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this City "

There were nights where I played this song as I prepared for bed and Anna shared with me recently that she also played it once (for Hope) during our trip.  I could imagine these words stirring the hearts of people in Tanzania, just as easily as they have for people in Thailand or throughout the world in churches, concert halls and even in bars and brothels already.  During our short visit, we experienced so much darkness.  But we also saw glimmers of hope, even emanating from the eyes of those most affected by the violence.  Anna told me about a girl with both arms amputated who nonetheless greeted everyone with a hug.  And we experienced even in the shyest, most introverted and damaged children, smiles peeking out of unclenched mouths upon these kids examining their newly white teeth or donning a stylish pair of sunglasses.  God is truly at work in this place, but there are so many greater things yet to come.  Please pray that those things would come to pass.

Personally, I'm not sure what the next steps for me and Anna will be.  We've learned that we could go pretty much anywhere that God leads us.  To be honest, Tanzania was not all that different than rural Thailand.  And the people who we met were so warm and so inviting and so desiring to share their culture, their language and (most importantly) their food with us.  In an interview that I did on one of the final days, I was asked about my long term commitment and I did respond that I see myself being committed to the mission of UTSS long-term.  Whether this means that I will go back or that I will support the organization from afar is difficult to say.  But I am open.

*****

Some final images

The sun greeting us upon landing in Dar Es Salaam

The daily commute to a school in Mwanza

The dentists in their makeshift dental clinic

Anna in the waiting room

UTSS staff teaching dental hygiene to the kids

UTSS staff sharing about their recent meeting with the government

A final group shot with our security

A beautiful moment (previously described)

Sometimes seeing an event is so much more effective than reading about it. In the first clip, Anna has already approached and started chatting with the boy who so often stood by himself and the two kids (one pigmented and one with albinism) are well into their game. By the second clip, the crowd has formed and everyone's looking on at this beautiful, but simple scene.



And here is the blooper reel of us trying to follow suit...

Not sure how Anna avoided the embarrassment!

A light hearted moment from Mwanza