PART 2: Tuesday, January 24, 2012
“We have no friends but the mountains”
I'd like to begin this entry with an honest question: "Why are we (Stephanie and I) in Kurdistan?" Well, this is something we asked ourselves today and spent a good deal of time discussing and praying about. It's very easy to say that because Shevet is a medical NGO, we are here to follow-up with the physical wellbeing of the children following heart surgery. While this is valid, the greater purpose lies in the fact that life is all about relationships. We were designed for this, to love and to be loved.
There is a common idiom among the Kurds which states, "We have no friends but the mountains." As history would tell you, the Kurdish people have reason to believe this; hardship and tragedy have been their faithful companions. Our desire, however, is that this perception would be changed one heart at a time. We want these families to know their true worth in God's eyes and ours, and that they are loved! Over the next two weeks, Stephanie and I hope to provide you with portraits of our time in this untamed land – glimpses into the homes, culture, and daily life of the people we call our friends.
The first child we had the pleasure of visiting last Friday was Arina. This delightful girl won everyone's hearts last spring with her affectionate personality and love for singing. In fact, she was nicknamed our "Kurdish songbird."
Arina and her family live in a small two room house on the outskirts of Halabja. At first glance, you might just see a traditional town nestled at the base of the Hewraman Mountains, bordering Iran. This city, however, is most known for being the primary target of the 1988 chemical attack and genocide under Saddam Hussein. The tall iron memorial, visible upon entering Halabja, is a sobering reminder of a very painful past.
Sadness was replaced with joy upon seeing Arina and her mother waiting for us at the door of their home. Her father, sister, and new baby brother were also there to offer the finest Kurdish hospitality. Though their family may be poorer, you wouldn't know it by the feast they served us for lunch. This, of course, was followed by steaming cups of sugared tea.
The sweetest part of the visit for me was finally being able to speak with Arina and her mother! My Kurdish repertoire had been small during their stay in Jerusalem, limiting our conversation to simple greetings and the weather. We became close friends, nonetheless, and simply enjoyed being together. Today, there was much to be said! Chatting back and forth with her and Arina was like unlocking a treasure chest. We laughed like school girls, exchanging memories and enjoying the children's antics. When I pulled my stethoscope out of my purse, it might as well have been a favorite toy! Arina and her sister excitedly listened to each other's hearts.
Arina’s heart, I might add, sounds beautiful and strong. This was music to my ears. We praised God and rejoiced in His precious gift to Arina! Four hours passed like four minutes, and too soon, it was time to say goodbye. Kisses and "Xoshm eway's" ("I love you's") continued out the door as we drove away.
"I didn't think it would be this hard," I told Stephanie as tears filled my eyes. The hard part is knowing that I may not see them again for a while. The good and most beautiful part, however, was beholding the joy of answered prayers. "I will lift up my eyes to the hills – from whence comes my help? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth" (Psalm 121:1-2).
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PART 1: Sunday, January 22, 2012
"Coming Home to Kurdistan"
Four days ago, Stephanie and I boarded a plane for the northern Iraqi region of Kurdistan. This trip has been a dream for the both of us, and to see it coming to pass is almost too good to be true. Over the past year, we have witnessed God create one miracle after another in the lives of Kurdish children and parents in Israel. Without a doubt, our hearts are bursting at the seams with the opportunity to be reunited with them. Several families have maintained their friendships with us through ongoing communication, and the roots of love run deep. So, even though neither Stephanie nor I have ever stepped foot in this land, it somehow felt like coming home.
Our first day introduced us to the bustling city of Sulaymaniah. It is situated in a valley with mountains on every side, many of which are covered with snow this time of year.
Crowded streets wound us towards the government hospital, a dismal looking building with an atmosphere to match. Within these walls, a heart screening for future patients was taking place, and we had come to assist. Dr. Kirk and his wife Dr. Kim, visiting specialists from the U.S. and partners of Shevet Achim, had flown in to oversee the cardiac clinic with the help of several local doctors and the Shevet Achim coordinator in Kurdistan, our brother Goran.
Three cardiac screenings had already been completed, and this would be the final one, with twenty-five children on the roster. As the morning progressed, parents began arriving with their sick children, desperate for help. Some were tired from their journeys, most faces etched with anxiety.
Stephanie and I mingled with the families, checking the children's oxygen level and pulse rate, and learning their stories.
I saw a lot of surprised expressions when we spoke Kurdish with them! While there were children who did receive good news with the invitation to travel to India or Israel for surgery, the majority did not. My heart hurt so bad for the parents who were told that it was too late, that their child was inoperable, or their baby's heart would fail later in life, or even that their infant might die today...That one, was of course, the hardest.
Baby Asma is only 2 1/2 months old and wasn't diagnosed until one month ago. She has congestive heart failure and has been in the hospital with her mother for the last month. Each breath is a labored gasp, her chest rises and falls far too slowly for a baby her age, and her eyes reflect weariness.
The news that her life expectancy can be measured in hours brought both parents to tears as they rushed out of the room. Stephanie and I followed them and spent the next half hour or so just sitting with them, praying over Asma, singing to her, and talking with them. I can't imagine their heartache. We saw her and her mother at the end of the day. She was still in the same state. Her mother was so loving and really responded to affection. Please pray for them!
The three children we met today who will be coming to Israel are Dana, Elias, and Ramon. All baby boys! It's amazing to know that we'll be caring for them in the near future in Israel.
Today, Stephanie and I had our eyes opened to the harsh realities many Kurdish families face, as well as the great lengths they must go to in search of hope. How true are the words of Solomon when he writes, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled, is a tree of life." Proverbs 13:12
