An interesting day!

Today I got to do a number of exciting things. First off, 2 home visits. This might be my favorite photo I've taken so far in Iraq! This little boy, Akhmed, went to surgery last year with PLC. Because of his heart condition he'll need a second surgery, but right now the doctors are unwilling to operate on him because he has a very high risk of dying.

Later in the afternoon I met up with some Kurdish girls I met at Children's Day. We went to the mall, got ice cream, and hung out for a couple hours before their parents came to pick them up. Yeah. My new Kurdish friends are all 14. No big.

Closin' my eyes.

So it was a fun day! :)

First step.

"If you want to build a ship, don't drum up people to collect wood and don't assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea."
Antoine de Saint-Exupery

If you're willing, I want to teach you to love the sea that is the children of Iraq. Enough that you long to protect them, to save them. I want to show you the sea until you build a ship to reach what you love.

So this is my first step to teaching you this. I hope you like it, I hope you love her.

-Lydia

Is this life delicious?

This tunnel runs underneath a highway outside of our office building here in Suly. We discovered it the first week or so of the internship and I think its safe to say its one of our favorite spots in the city. The entire length of the walls are covered floor to ceiling with multi-colored flyers with the same Kurdish phrase. It turns out the phrase translates to,

"Is this life delicious?"

More loosely, "is this life enough?" is this all you want?" Wow. What a crazy, strange tunnel. Needless to say, there's a tattoo in the planning ;)

So. That's all I have. Is your life delicious?

I'm ready to listen.

Baby Honya, hiding behind her mother.

God addressed Job next from the eye of the storm, and this is what he said:

"I have some more questions for you,
and I want straight answers.

"Do you presume to tell me what I'm doing wrong?
Are you calling me a sinner so you can be a saint?
Do you have an arm like my arm?

Can you shout in thunder the way I can?

Go ahead, show your stuff.

Let's see what you're made of, what you can do.

Unleash your outrage.
Target the arrogant and lay them flat.
Target the arrogant and bring them to their knees.
Stop the wicked in their tracks—make mincemeat of them!
Dig a mass grave and dump them in it—
faceless corpses in an unmarked grave.

I'll gladly step aside and hand things over to you—
you can surely save yourself with no help from me!"

If you've never read the conversation between God and Job, take a few minutes and check it out.

The last chapters of Job have been some of my very favorite parts of the Bible for a long,long time. Basically, Job (and some of his friends) spend the first 38 chapters crying out to God for answers to suffering and injustice. Right at the very end God comes in, sassy as can be, demanding answers from Job! Instead of answering the way Job wants, God demands to know why he owes Job answers at all. Its the most wonderful, ranting, snarky response from the Creator of the Universe to this little guy on earth (very much like you and me!) and he doesn't hold back anything.

(If you didn't read it the first time--go back! take a second, read it and you'll understand)

Sometimes I feel a lot like Job! Not because of my life, but sometimes I just want answers for suffering. I want to know why things happen and why things don't happen and if things are going to change (if they are, when?). I want to do exactly what God is saying, "Target the arrogant and lay them flat.Target the arrogant and bring them to their knees, Stop the wicked in their tracks—make mincemeat of them!" I want to work to end injustice and hurt, and I want answers. I have a tendency to push my nose into matters I don't understand, blindly assuming my perception is all that exists in the matter.

Because sometimes I meet people like baby Gesh and her mother.

Gesh has heart disease (and cleft palate). Her mother's dealing with the reality that her baby girl is dying. Her tiny, beautiful daughter.

I feel like by this time in the summer some of you are thinking, "What did you think you signed up for? You're interning with an organization that helps kids with heart disease!"

And you're right! I should understand that the kids I meet are pretty much all very, very sick. But you haven't met Gesh. You haven't met her mother.

So I'm thankful that Job questioned God. Mostly I'm thankful he did it first, and I don't have to. I'm learning from Job's response to God, because I think he's right. He said:

"I'm convinced: You can do anything and everything.

Nothing and no one can upset your plans.
You asked, 'Who is this muddying the water,
ignorantly confusing the issue, second-guessing my purposes?'
I admit it. I was the one. I babbled on about things far beyond me,
made small talk about wonders way over my head.

So, sometimes I just need to remember that. Nothing and no one can upset God's plans. I know so little. Stop second-guessing God's purposes. Stop babbling about wonders that are way over my head.

"Surely I spoke of things I did not understand,

things too wonderful for me to know."

-Job 42:3

Somethings are better said by others.

"Live in peace with each other.

And we urge you, brothers,

warn those who are idle,

encourage the timid,

help the weak,

be patient with everyone.

Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always try to be kind to each other and to everyone else.

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

(did you catch that?)

"Do not put out the Spirit's fire; do not treat prophecies with contempt.

Test everything. Hold on to the good. Avoid every kind of evil.

May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful and he will do it!"

(read that again! and again!)

"Brothers, pray for us."

1 Thessalonians 5: 14-25

"Children of my father"

So this is Awara, our translator/invaluable political asset/entertainer (as well as full time PLC staff). I've mentioned him a couple of times before, he goes with us to most any and everything!

The times I am most glad he's around though are when we're dealing with anything legal. Awara helped us all get visas, blood tests, etc, etc, etc. We'd walk into endless lines in government offices and Awara would waltz in, negotiate some things, sign off, and we'd all file out with the necessary paperwork. Easy. Also, any problem (i.e., armed guards reaching into the car and taking my camera) is solved with a phone call from Awara to his father, who in turn makes a phone call to the President (or so I assume) and done. Camera: returned.

Basically, any problem we have can be fixed when Awara says his full name (which I won't here, for privacy). Such is his father's influence in this country! Awara's father owns multiple houses, cars, companies. His influence extends socially, politically, economically. He also has a heart for the children of Iraq who are dying of heart disease. Convenient for PLC, eh?

I'm explaining this because two nights ago Awara told us something interesting. He explained that we (the interns) were "all children of his father". At first I thought this was another flowery Kurdish phrase. But, he actually meant exactly what he said. His uber-influential father legally registered 10 additional children into his family, just for us this summer. There is a "Lydia _____ " legally registered in the region of Kurdistan. And its me. And for all legal, political purposes I am to be treated as his daughter.

How cool?

Attribute it to the 18 years of Sunday school I have tucked away, but I instantly thought about the way God calls us children in 1 John.

"How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!"

I don't have any earthshaking insights, but I thought it was pretty great.

I promise more pictures on the next blog!

Xua Hafiz!*

Lydia

*("Go with God", aka, "Goodbye" in Kurdi!)

Observations

There are a lot of things about Iraq that are very similar to the States. Cars, music, clothes, food (yeah...kind of), people; everything's just been Eastern-ized. Or maybe we Western-ized it, not sure.

But there are the subtle differences.

For instance.

There are two different kinds of electricity here, "national" and "community". They both have their scheduled hours of operation and for all but 2 hours a day we have electricity! National power is stronger and can handle the AC-units we're so blessed to use, as well as the washer and treadmill (not all at the same time, mind you).

National power cuts out for about 7 hours a day and we switch over to Community. Community power is run by a switchboard and a little man somewhere on our block.

During community hours we conserve as much electricity as possible. Community becomes less stable as it gets hotter outside. This week the temperature has hovered around and above 110 degrees. Therefore, we've been very careful about our electricity! Its completely normal for the power/internet/lights to cut out and come back on a dozen times in an afternoon.

We all sit quietly in the office while we wait for whatever we were doing to come back. It used to be frustrating. I think at this point it would be more unusual to have the internet consistently for hours on end.

Sometimes if we're doing something extremely internet-dependent we choose to go to local cafes in hopes their power is stronger than ours, but its not at all unusual for them to be waiting to turn on their internet until their community power changes (electricity is very localized here in Kurdistan). The power regularly cuts out in restaurants, churches, schools, coffee houses, etc. Basically, with electricity the only thing you can really count on is that you can't count on it.

But its fine! The whole country manages to shuffle the electricity schedules and make it work. Its pretty remarkable.

(Neither of those pictures mean anything spectacular, just a couple of random shots from out and around the city!)

Water. We usually have water, and I don't really understand why and when we don't. But somedays we don't do the dishes and we can't take showers because there isn't any water running.

Also the toilets don't always flush, sometimes you just pour a bucket of water in the toilet and its like flushing.

We still don't have a shower head, but that still doesn't seem like such a big deal.

Mom, Dad. I shower at least twice a week. Promise!

Alright I feel like I'm complaining an awful lot and there are far too few pictures to make this worthwhile! I promise all of my complaints are in jest and its fun to have life be a bit more challenging on this side of the globe.

Lovelovelove,

Lydia

A few portraits.

"...or till the last of those bad thoughts are finally out."

I think this is going to be a very long blog post...but you'll be rewarded with photos the whole way through! So stick with me, if you have the time and patience.

I'm trying to write this linearly, because that seems most logical. Tuesday night we went to the home of Ismail Kayat, a local artist with a fervent desire to see peace for Kurdistan. Kak Ismail has seen his country from the earliest days of Saddam Hussein, through Hussein's "arabization" attempts, through the chemical Anfal attacks, through the Gulf War, through whatever the last 10 years have been, and today. Can you imagine? Every decade of his life has seen a new form of violence in his homeland.

Most of his work in the last 20-odd years has been a response to the chemical bombing of Kurdistan (aka, the Anfal campaign). He has a vision of painting a mask/face for every one of the 182,000 Kurds murdered by Saddam Hussein's regime.

Truly incredible depth of inspiration and purpose, I'm completely humbled by being in his presence. How audacious can my desire to show the world another side of Iraq be, next to his? I know nothing, he's lived everything. Its a terrible, wonderful feeling to talk with someone who knows infinitely more than you do about something you're genuinely interested in.

--

On Wednesday, I got to visit the hospital and meet Dr. Aso, the solitary pediatric cardiologist in all of Iraqi Kurdistan. He is a close friend of PLC's and will be key to the Remedy campaign this August.

This baby has Downs Syndrome, and a heart condition called Single Ventricle heart disease. Basically, her heart isn't divided, so both the pure and impure blood are mixing through one main area of her heart. 2/3 of babies with this condition will see their first birthday, only 1 in 3 will see their tenth.

And again, Dr. Aso is the only pediatric cardiologist in Kurdistan. In the time we were in his office the line of patients waiting to see him never slowed. The heart conditions these children shoulder are stuff of nightmares for parents in the States. And they're no less horrific for mothers and fathers here in Iraq.

Parents who read this: Consider doing for someone else's child what you would do for your own.

Also on Wednesday, Josh and I started a new series about pharmacies here in Iraq. I was thinking along the lines of Ed Ruscha's 26 Gasoline Stations, which is a series I LOVE. It didn't quite work out that way, but we spent a few hours photographing in and around some pharmacies here.

We'll continue it over the next week or so and hopefully have a cohesive result.

Ok, close you eyes. Pretend you're taking a prescription to have it filled.

Are you going here? It's still hard to think of life here as reality.

--

When I got back, baby Abdul Kareem was in the office. I'm using some photos of him and his father as a mini-campaign for Father's Day. Abdul is dying of heart disease. This might be the last Father's Day he'll ever see.

Consider giving to a child's surgery fund instead of that new grill, hammock, lawn mower, or whatever fantastic gift you had planned for your dad! :)

--

Thursday (yesterday) I went on two follow-up home visits to kids who have already had heart surgery. The first, Honya.

A beautiful 15-month-old girl who had surgery in December. Though she's recovered perfectly, her growth was so stunted that she still doesn't have any teeth. Her parents lovingly refer to her as "grandma" :)

The second home visit was to a 10-year old boy named Mohammed. This is the house he lives in with his parents and two siblings. (The car is ours)

They invited us in where we sat and talked with his family. Mohammed showed of his scar (come on, he's a boy)

And his mother fed us cucumbers and watermelon, "lime drink" (picture Jell-O before it's congealed) and baklava. So much hospitality in this country!!

Mohammed has 14 chickens that he raised himself, from eggs. So crazy cool! I don't know any 10 year olds who can do that.

I left his home not sure what to think. Both he and Honya live within a half hour from Halabja, the city that suffered the most concentrated attack by Saddam Hussein. I can't say this with absolute medical authority, but it would seem that their health conditions are most likely related. How do you deal with something like that? As a parent, a sibling, a victim? How would you justify your feelings toward your government? Or toward the rest of the world, who's eyes have turned away from a suffering yours never can.

It was definitely better meeting two kids who are healthy as a result of Preemptive Love in Iraq, instead of children who are dying. There is hope for peace-making, even in the wake of genocide.

Now a much, much lighter note! We left Mohammed's and drove back to the city. Awara and I went straight to Kak Aram's shoemaking-shop (remember Brain Soup? same guy) where my, one-of-a-kind, first ever, female Klash were waiting!

Soooo cute! Honestly I didn't do anything for these, I was just extremely blessed to be the guinea pig. Preston and Ben (two other interns) did all of the work in designing and planning, they just needed a girl to fit the shoes.

Also...rumor has it they're going to be called "Klashi Lydia", which might be the coolest thing that's ever happened to me. They might not be though, so don't get your hopes up.

Yeah, I'm in love. Pre-orders will happen soon, for those of you who are interested.

So. I think you're all caught up to speed, at least for now. The title of this blog is from an Avett Brother's song titled, "Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise" and I really like the lyrics. Story of my life right now. Lots of thoughts going on, lots of hope for the rest of the summer.

Have a beautiful Friday! Please be praying for these kids and Iraq.

Love,

Lydia

In Defense of Fathers (Day)

Because some fathers risk losing their reason to celebrate.

www.preemptivelove.org/remedy

Blood Bank

My day, in pictures:

1. Spend hours waiting in clinic for blood tests.

2. akjdlakjdlkajdalkj

3. Iraqi visa!

Love,

Lydia

For all I know, there's more I don't. (Oh, the little I have learned!)

Today was my very first house visit.

Ready?

Meet Mohammed. 2 years old, dying from heart disease.

At 9 kg, Mohammad hasn't gained weight in over a year. His parents can't afford the surgery necessary to save their son's life.

Today we went to talk with his parents about Mohammed's health and their finances. Through miscommunications, they've lost the $6,000 loan they thought they had secured for his surgery.

I'm not sure if I've ever been in a room with someone who was literally dying. I never expected the first time to be a 2-year-old Iraqi boy.

Kurds are huge on hospitality. Before we left they gave us plates of grapes and cucumbers. Its humbling to receive so much from people who have so little.

Its hard to know how to respond to little Mohammed. In my own life I would say "Don't worry about it, I'm sure it'll all work out." and be completely confident in my insurance company, parent's wallet, extended family's gifts, and a strong network of prayer. So I'm inclined to think that any situation, no matter how destitute, will eventually be made right. It's hard to fully grasp that that is completely not the case for this little boy and his parents. They're relying heavily on PLC right now to take their son to surgery, to save his life. But even that might not be enough. His medicine has become more complicated (mostly because he refuses to take it, I guess 2-year-olds are the same everywhere) and their money has nearly run out. This family has no "fall back" plan, no money set aside for emergencies.

Today was a significant day in my Iraqi-living learning curve. For a couple of reasons that all center around my personal reactions to gender-specific dress codes and expectations in this culture. For the first time since I've been here, I was genuinely angered by a new standard that would forever forward be expected of me. I've been stewing about double standards and inequality all evening....but I can't anymore.

So pray for Mohammed. Pray for his parents and their financial stability (or capability). Because I know a lot of 2-year-olds, but now I know one more. And so do you.

So pray for this one.

Best Birthday Ever?

Started out with a surprise birthday/coffee cake by Sophie and Alex:

Then we took a bus...

out to Halabja to see the memorial for the chemical attacks. Interesting way to spend a birthday, but its what I've been looking forward to seeing the most here in Iraq. I could write a very spirited entry about war and genocide and money and genetic disease and kids who will die because of these things...but I won't today. Just read the wiki-article.

When we finished at the memorial we picnic'ed and hiked up to a waterfall in the mountains. SO BEAUTIFUL. Its the exact same trail that those hikers were on last summer when they crossed into Iran. We were about a mile and a half from the border! Prettty awesome.

They actually assigned us a guard to police us as we walked up the mountain, so that we didn't get off the path.

It was so, so hot outside and Kurds get dressed up for outings. So we were all in our semi-business-casual, which is fun but not easy for hiking.

Here's me, Claire and Preston with Iran behind us.

Also, apparently today was the deadline to get my paperwork taken care of to be in the country. So I am officially an illegal immigrant! Cool!