I’ve been writing about all of our trekking and now have some brief videos of going through a village and the jungle (this was going into the valley). I’ll take trekking over the Helix any day of the week – I’m developing a bit of a phobia about that thing!
My foot is still so swollen and I can’t feel the bottom half of my leg, so hiking up a slippery incline after a heavy rain will be impossible; the Helix is my only option. When everyone else opts to take their chances scrambling up the slope, I begin to doubt my choice. I close my eye, hold on tight, and hope for the best.
Finally, the effects of the Juju ceremony appear to have kicked in, because I make it to the top in one piece.
Rod travels to the health center that received the baby, along with Jeff (an Army medic) and Shannon (a nurse).
With more heart, ambition and experience than he knows what to do with, and a backpack of essential surgical equipment on his back, Dr. Rod stands on the steps of the medical center humbly trying to convince the staff to let him see the patient. She’s in a coma and her foot was decimated in the wheel of the motorcycle that brought her there.
The regular doctors are on holidays and nobody at the center will let our team through the door. With over 23 years of knowledge and experience in exactly the kind of surgery required, walking away is one of the most heart wrenching things he will likely ever have to face.
Politics, regulations and (in my opinion) simple neglect get in the way of letting this incredible doctor give an extraordinary gift. Behind the walls of a medical center over-regulated by policy, there lies a little baby who needs this man.
These are the children I played soccer with in the rain when I should’ve been participating in the medical assessment meeting for their village. Luckily, the Obakki Foundation volunteers were doing a great job and didn’t miss me. It was the most fun meeting of my life!
Today we receive some horrible and disturbing news – a baby from one of the neighboring valley villages has slipped into a coma, we think from Malaria.
She needs to be transported immediately to the regional health center in Azi Menji. It’s a long and arduous journey, but the baby requires immediate attention, so the village finds her a ride on a motorbike.
What nobody realizes is that her tiny leg is caught in the wheel. For the entire trip. It isn’t detected for hours later, when the bike arrives at the health center. We make plans for Dr. Rod, from our group, to travel there in order to assist in any way possible. Reconstructive surgery of the hand and foot is his specialty, and he’s prepared to do whatever it takes to help this precious little baby.
Suddenly, the infection in my foot is not even worth mentioning.
Candace Meyer is a professional photographer and fabulous woman who is on the trip with us. The video and still photos she’s taking are unreal – I can’t wait to share them with all of you.
In this clip, she’s taking some pictures of kids in the village. At first they were more curious than anything, so we had to coax them to smile. But they were soon beaming for the camera! They especially loved seeing pictures of themselves afterwards.
After a wet (and sleepless!) night in Menji, I wake up convinced I received a swift and rainy karmic kick in the butt that will hold me over for a couple of days, at least.
Until I see my foot. My ankle is swollen on both sides and extends into my foot and up my calf. I definitely have an infection. Hold on…I have an infection in Africa. With an impending hike out in rough terrain.
I immediately start Cipro medication and keep a watch on it. Thankfully, I’m in great hands – one of my friends on the trip, Rod French, is a highly trained surgeon who specializes in hands and feet.
Kate Hudson was recently spotted in New York City with her son Ryder, 6, who was sporting and supporting the Obakki Foundation Collection.
The Obakki Foundation asked 150 African orphans what made them sad, happy and afraid. Their words and drawings have been incorporated into a clothing collection and hardcover book that can be purchased at www.obakkifoundation.org. 100% of ALL proceeds go back to the orphans, because it started with their answers. Follow Treana Peake, owner of Obakki, through her foundation blog as she explores the remotest regions of Cameroon, Africa to help improve the lives of others
It’s a busy afternoon with lots going on around us, but I can’t stop thinking of my family back home. I’ve been strong and unwavering all trip, focusing on the projects and team we’ve brought to help us, and not letting myself get overly emotional. I’ve made a couple of phone calls on the satellite phone, but haven’t been able to hear my kids’ voices. I miss them so much that it almost knocks me over.
I sneak away to call and my son, Dax, answers the phone. Nothing cuts a mother’s heart like hearing her child’s voice and my heart sinks into my stomach. As soon as he speaks, the tears come as if they’ve been pooling under my eyelids, waiting to fall.
Dax wants to hear all about my trip – especially the bugs, snakes and chickens. He asks if I’m around any children and if he can talk to one and hear what kids in Africa sound like. A little boy is near me, so I ask him if he’d like to talk to a little boy from Canada. The boy quickly grabs the phone from my hand. “Hello?” he says. “My name is Alexandre. What is your name? How old are you? I’m nine. Where do you live? What is in Canada?”
The conversation goes on and each boy is engaged and curious. The simplicity of this interaction is powerful. Here are two very young, very different boys from opposite sides of the world, learning about each other – with open minds and hearts, smiling from ear to ear. I stand back and watch…if only connecting up our world was this easy! I promise Dax I’ll take a picture of the boy he spoke with. (This is him, Dax. He’s just like you.)
Acadia gets on the phone next, but she’s not going to let me off easy. “Mommy, why are you not here!? Why are you away from me?! Why do you have to be in Africa?!” I sit down on a rock and now my tears are really falling. It’s times like this that I want to scoop them up in my arms and shower them with kisses.
I explain that mommy is here to help other kids like her and their families, and that it’s a very hard sacrifice our family chooses to make. I tell her I love her a thousand times for being a part of this and promise that one day she’ll understand. Right now they’re with their Nana and Papa while Ryan is on tour, but he’s flying home for a day, so I know that he’ll wrap his arms around her in my absence and try to make it right.
I hang up the phone and sit for another five minutes before I can rejoin the group. I hope I’m doing the right thing.
We trek out of the deep end of the valley to our resting place in Menji Fonjumetaw. After our long days in the valley, we’re left exhilarated and wanting more, but also exhausted and craving rest.
As soon as the sun sets, we pack it in. Some choose to sleep inside the ‘shelter’ – a dark and damp space with the strong scent of what I’m quite sure is urine. I see people wipe chicken poop off the floor before laying down their sleeping bag and my decision is made: I elect to go outside and risk the elements (I was, after all, ‘cleansed’ of bad luck by the Juju).
Others join me in hanging mosquito nets and we crawl into our cozy sleeping bags for the night. Moments after we all settle down and stop talking, the cane rats come out to play. They sound like 40-pound dogs scurrying back and forth in the ceiling of the shelter.
Moments later the chickens start to wander around, traipsing across everything. Then the dogs start to chase the chickens and it hits us – we’re sleeping in the middle of a jungle farmyard.
I’ve seen this before and laugh at the reaction of the first-timers, knowing they’ll likely be up all night trying to decipher the night sounds of Menji, which sound very close.
I close my eyes, happy and quite pleased with myself for being one of the veteran Africa travelers who will rest well despite what’s happening around us. At that moment, the sky opens up and the rain of a thousand skies falls from above, soaking us all in an instant. Sigh.
A big shout out today to ALL of you who have supported the Obakki Foundation by sending or purchasing supplies earlier this year. Our trip has been so successful because of wonderful people back home, like Lani Osing – who sent us 30 soccer balls, skipping ropes, Frisbees and other goodies.
In addition to the educational and medical supplies, we’ve been delivering the toys to schools and orphanages wherever we go, and reaction from the children has been incredible. Instead of kicking balls around, kids here normally play with plastic cups or rolled up tape, so it’s been a thrill for us to give these items out.
More often than not, you make a donation to a charity and never know where that money really goes, let alone see the faces of (or get hugs from) the recipients. I’m blessed to have this opportunity and I want you all to know that you’ve brought happiness and relief to those who need it most.
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