Bangladesh – Cyclone Aila – Putting a Human Face on a Disaster

Personal Journal #2 of Nancy E. Smith, RN Humedica and Koinonia. Click here to read #1.

Nancy Smith shares more of her experiences of helping the people of Bangladesh following cyclone Aila; working alongside TEAR Fund’s partners.

Tues June 9

We depart today in early daylight to allow for the two-hour boat ride to reach an area that has been cut off by flood waters. Our view from the boat provides a different perspective…mud and stick huts line the embankment.

Where we land is now on large mudslide, as the steps have long since washed away. We slide barefoot in the thick sticky grey mud. Losing our balance and laughing as our Bangla counter parts move and carry our supplies with such ease and grace.

Our patients are not so critically ill, and thankfully most of their children appear stable. It becomes a matter of extending grace; these are humans in need of respect, and a few minutes of our undivided attention. Our time to focus on each one, reassures them of their value and especially communicate to them that they are not forgotten. Dieter and Ripon spend their day continuing to talk to the local men, trying to discern the areas of greatest need.

Our afternoon and day conclude amidst strong, warm winds that create spray and choppy waters. Our Bangla boatmen are a blessing and return us safely.

Weds June 10

We return to the “island” cyclone shelter that we were at earlier this week. Both Dr. Markus and I felt there were needs we did not, and could not meet in just one day..we are glad to return.

The adventure that morning was trying to paddle across the “lake”, with brisk winds fighting our three small paddles. We moved slowly forward, most often moving “sideways”. Thankful for not spilling our supplies in the rough water, we unload, set up and begin Intravenous (IV) therapy on two men. Many come with fever and diarrheoa, many others with wounds infected from tangled debris or stepping on sharp edges hidden in the murky water. Sounds of coughing mixed with low cries of discomfort.

Times passes quickly, the tidal waters rise.

Our return paddle boat is smaller and narrower than the one this morning, it sits low in the water, … too low….we paddle, we bail out water, we paddle, we bail out water.We laugh at the thought of our afternoon “champagne cruise”…well, not exactly.

Our route home took a different turn; literally. On a route we would not normally travel we came upon a crowd of people. We saw a woman holding a child, waist deep in one of the ponds; there is chaos, shouting, confusion everywhere. We stop the microbus, and Dr Markus is immediately at the woman’s side.

The child she is wailing over is limp, lifeless, eyes rolled back. The unthinkable look of a dead baby. The mother screams and cries with unbearable emotion. The crowd is forced to step back; it was only minutes but it seemed like hours when the child’s face changed and a blessed sound of cries and screams poured out. Thank God for breathing life back in to this little girl.

Nearby another human in despair; a man, on his knees, face down , pounding the ground with his fists… we later learn that he was the driver of the rickshaw that accidentally hit the child.

We move mother and child to the inside of our vehicle, the child now screaming and crying as loudly as her mother…the child must be taken to a local hospital, so our microbus serves as an ambulance.

Once the child is being evaluated we learn that the family is not even from this area, they, too are victims are the cyclone…losing everything. But God in His mercy kept this family together, providing for this child’s physical life, and allowing a mother’s anguish to turn to possible hope.

Dieter and Ripon help make provisions for this night’s care…we all pray with praise and thanks and petition for the comfort of the little one.

God’s day, God’s power, …God’s plan for us to be His hands this day.

Thurs June 11

Another day comes, our thoughts are first with the little girl and her mother. Dieter and Ripon will see what her status is.

The medical team leaves for the morning boat ride…the wind today is constant, unfriendly, as it scatters supplies, whips our clothing and noisily flaps the overhead plastic for our shade.

A donated tent becomes our “intensive care unit”, a place out of the wind to shelter our IV patients.

I feel my own level of patience being strained…I must stop, breathe slowly and try to envision Christ on the shores of the Galilean Sea, surrounded by thousands. For certain He experienced days like this, He maintained grace, all the while being Master of both winds and waves.

The best part of this day was the local men who helped us set up. They were precious and kind…allowing us to use the tent, blocking the roadway, bringing us four boiled eggs on a clean plate for lunch—- amazing in their thoughtfulness and care. I can only hope they understood my gestures and tone of voice, “heart language” as Dieter calls it.

Universal; God’s love spoken without words.

Whether they know God at this moment, I cannot say but He knows them, loves them…we are all His children.

Friday June 12

Our last day in the field. It doesn’t seem possible the time has passed so quickly.

Another windy boat ride…supplies up the embankment to a school building…a blessed relief from the wind.

A father brings a little boy with a large, painful abscess in his groin. We are able to clean it, and drain it, place a bandage and give the needed antibiotics.

When this father realised the wound was clean and likely to heal well..and no trip to the hospital was necessary…his eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t help but feel tears as I saw true humility and thankfulness. I could only try to tell this loving father that it was my privilege to help him; a sweet little boy and a devoted father.

Too soon we say goodbye to this community of people, trying to live, literally on the precarious edge of this river embankment.

Later that night we go to Satkhira to check on the little girl and her mother. They both need quiet and rest, not easily found in a hospital meant for 100 patients that now has 300 people laying in the halls and corridors. A tangled sea of humanity woven with IV lines and scattered belongings.

Dr Markus and Dieter and Ripon speak with the doctor and they do what they can to support this family. This is such a complex difficult case to manage, we must trust that God has His ways of providing, often that which we cannot see.

Back at our guest house with Father Luiggi, our evening is filled with music and traditional dance performed by the young women that live, work and go to school at this compound.

There is fellowship of friends, no longer strangers. God smiles and holds us in His arms. It has not been work..it has been a blessing.

And as usual in the shelter of His wings, we receive so much more than what we give. Grateful hearts, sad to leave our friends and colleagues of Koinonia and the precious people of Sunderland.

May God truly bless and strengthen all those that remain here in Bangladesh.