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Images Courtesy of John Merrill/Merrill Images

The Princeton Class of 1977 delivers the gift of mobility to some of the most remote parts of Peru.

Story by Donna Freeman Princeton Class of 1977.

Bill and I arrived in Peru on July 24th, 12 days in advance of the August 4th rendezvous date. We traveled to Cusco, the Sacred Valley, Machu Picchu, and Lake Titikaka. We had brought walking sticks with us and did not regret the decision. Steep climbs up irregularly spaced steps, treacherous ramped pavements studded with stones vying for the opportunity to trip the unwary; loose gravel, deep sand, mud. More than once I found myself thinking what life would be like in Peru without two sound legs.

As a teacher of Spanish, I was eager to lend my language skills to the Class service project in Peru. One of my functions was “Exit Ambassador”, speaking with the recipients and those accompanying them. The easy part came first: the congratulatory sentiments and wishes for a healthy, productive, and happy future. Then came the explanation of how to fold the wheelchair for storage and the use of the adjustment tools, repair kits, and tire pumps attached chairs. The most difficult part was explaining how the standard chair could be modified to accommodate a child with a neurological disorder. We had brought special wheelchairs, but the demand far exceeded supply. “Perhaps you can fashion a neck support from cloth, like this, to support your child’s head. A good idea would be to use a belt or sash to keep your child from slipping out of the chair. You could use another sash here, and here, as a safety harness. Maybe a piece of fabric or wood, here, to support the feet.” Thank goodness for the universality of some hand gestures and the eagerness of parents to give the best possible care to their offspring.

As David Behring often says, “Every distribution is different.” Here are some vignettes illustrative of the value of our Class’s service project.

A 13-year-old girl had just received her chair. Her hands were contorted and her gaze cocked to one side. She was struggling to hold onto the bright pink box containing a Barbie-like doll. The girl did not respond to exhortations to look up for her picture. I addressed the elderly woman at her side. After exchanging greetings and names I asked, “Is this your daughter?” “My granddaughter.” I thought it better to err on the side of vanity. The woman looked weary and I was not sure of her age. “How will this chair change your granddaughter’s life?” I asked. The woman began to weep. As the tears reached her jawline she wiped them with the back of a weathered and calloused hand and said, “Please excuse me.” I would tell she felt shame for crying in front of me. “It’s alright,” I said hugging her. “I can tell your tears are tears of relief.” “Relief,” she repeated. “Relief and gratitude. My granddaughter is 13 years old. Her mother has to work. There is no father. I care for the three children. I’ve been carrying my granddaughter for 13 years. I can no longer carry her.” She paused and sighed. “She is too big and I am too old. Thank you. Thank you, so much.” As we hugged again, I felt the sting of tears in my own eyes. “Gracias, Mami. Gracias,” she said patting my shoulders. “You are most welcome. It is our great honor to give your granddaughter the gift of mobility.” “You have given ME the gift,” said the old woman as she left, pushing her granddaughter with great ease.

A young woman came in, carrying her elementary school-aged child in her arms. She had several children at her side. After exchanging pleasantries I asked how many children were in the family. Eight. The little girl was the youngest. Unable to walk since birth, she was receiving her first wheelchair. Simon Sankey had given the little girl a doll which the mother quickly took and held at her side, half hiding it in the fold of her skirt. “Wouldn’t you like to have the doll in the picture of your daughter?” I asked. “No,” replied the mother. “Today she received a chair. That is gift enough. I will keep the doll for her birthday so she will have a gift.” I was touched by the gratefulness of the mother and the poignant reminder that not all children’s parents can afford to buy them presents on their birthday.

“A general spoke at the distribution in Huancayo. Among his words were a few which have stuck with me and will remain with me. There are no physical handicaps, just challenges. These can be overcome with personal effort and the assistance and support of others. There are, however, spiritual handicaps. Those who see need and turn a blind eye and a deaf ear; or those who seek to deliberately harm others. These spiritual handicaps are evil and harmful not only to the individual but to the community.” After his address, the General watched me seat a recipient and listened to the explanation of how to close the chair after use. He examined the contents of the pouch on the chair’s back and paid careful attention to the purpose of the tools. Then he said, “I can help now.” I explained that each recipient was holding a certificate with his or her name and a number. The number corresponded to the appropriate size indicated on the side of each chair. Without hesitation the General found a recipient, selected the appropriate chair, seated the recipient, and explained to her what I had explained to him. When he needed assistance with a larger recipient, up stepped a soldier to lend a hand. I was impressed with the General’s genuine concern, compassion, and willingness to participate in the less glamorous parts of wheelchair distribution. He even got down on one knee to adjust the footrests. I liked the positive example of service he set for those under his command.

When Bill and I toured Lake Titikaka our guide was of Quechuan descent, a people living under the dominion of the Incan Empire. I took advantage of his knowledge to explain the unusual events that had been occurring since we awoke. At breakfast, there had been a cloud of incense in the interior courtyard of our hotel. During the cab ride to the Port of Puno we had witnessed many people throw yellow confetti on the heads of friends. As we boarded the launch, a crewman and our guide pelted each other with handfuls of the brightly colored crepe paper bits. When we passengers were settled on the boat, the guide explained it was Pachamama Day. “August 1st. It’s Mother Earth’s birthday. You will see a celebratory dance at the top of Taquile island. We’ll eat fish for lunch since the fish is the symbol for August. And we’ll eat yellow potato soup. You should know that the residents of Taquile still hold to the old Incan ways. Their four laws are simple: Don’t lie. Don’t steal. Don’t be lazy. Today you help me; tomorrow I help you. He went on to explain a strong tradition: Among those who keep the old ways, if you do not provide community service, your voice will not be heard at meetings.

At the distribution in Molina a woman gave a moving speech. I am sorry to say I did not get her name or her title. She thanked us for the gift of mobility and choked back tears as she spoke from her own experience. “We with disabilities are often marginalized by society. Our families love us deeply but we are aware of the burden we place on already stretched resources. These wheelchairs will enable us to participate in the life of our community. Some of us will be able to work. It is a big step toward regaining dignity.”

An elegant elderly woman was thrilled to receive her chair. It was her first. Once an active participant in her community she had suffered a stroke fifteen years prior and had been confined to a chair in her livingroom. She was radiant as she ably negotiated her wheelchair through the discarded boxes and crowd of recipients. One last wave and she was out the door: her life no longer on pause.

The distribution at Huancayo was full of ceremony and music. Instead of recordings, the military band played both the Peruvian National Anthem and the Star Spangled Banner. Then, before the speeches began, the Mayor introduced a local celebrity named Elvis. Elvis is wheelchair-bound, but his voice soared as he sang a cut from his new album. What a beautiful metaphor for the human spirit that exists free of physical constraints.

At all of the distributions, individuals and their families approached us to see if there were any more wheelchairs somewhere. It was heartbreaking to turn them away. The need is in excess of the supply. As we were getting on the bus in Cerro de Pasco, a young girl came running up to me. “Señora! Señora! My grandmother just arrived and she needs a wheelchair.” She gestured behind her. A man and a woman where supporting an elderly figure: her arms over their shoulders; their arms around her waist; her legs dragging. “I’m so sorry, honey. We have no more wheelchairs.” The old woman said something to the girl in Quechua. “My grandmother wants to know what country you are from.” “The United States of America,” I replied. She told her grandmother who said something else to the girl. “My grandmother says you’ll be back. You’ll be back and next time she’ll get a chair.”

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Eight-year-old Salamisa Vunilagi, Junior couldn’t stop smiling. He’s dreamed of one thing every day for as long as he can remember, and today, his dream finally came true.

Junior’s new wheelchair.

When Junior was an infant, he was diagnosed with meningitis, and the disease soon crippled him. Junior’s parents, Salamisa, Sr. and Vani Mainukulau, did everything they could, even trekking from their rural home to the nearest city of Labasa, in hopes of finding a cure for his paralyzed condition. They were broken-hearted to learn that nothing could be done. As each birthday passed, Junior remained completely dependent on his mother and father – while dreaming each day of independence. No longer a dream, Junior received a gift that changed the lives of the entire family – a new wheelchair.

This special delivery was made possible by the Wheelchair Foundation, along with the Rotary Club of Labasa, as part of the Vodafone “World of Difference” initiative undertaken by the ACATA Trust Fiji to provide assistance to the physically challenged. A total of 110 wheelchairs were presented to the Red Cross, the Spinal Injury Association, and other distribution partners over the course of 10 days, and one man in particular played a significant role in the success of this effort.

This will give them mobility to move around and be productive and they do not have to depend on others. My message to them is to use the wheelchairs wisely.
-Chetan Singh Heyer

Chetan (Chet) Singh Heyer is a native of Fiji, and his heart reaches out to the people living with disabilities in his homeland. During his visit to the country in 2010, Chet was alarmed by the overwhelming number of citizens in need of wheelchairs. He returned to the United States determined to make a difference in the lives of his island people, and became Founder and President of the fundraising project Fiji Wheelchairs.

Chet and his family aspired to bring the gift of mobility to their fellow Fijians, and with the help of the Wheelchair Foundation, the Singh Heyers were able to achieve their kind-hearted goal.

George Sumner

George Sumner signing art posters.

World-renowned artist George Sumner is an environmental impressionist painter known for his marine life art and avid support of ecological causes. His vivid works have found their way into the collections of Muhammad Ali, Ted Turner and Mikhail Gorbachev.

George and his wife/manager, Donnalei, have raised tens of thousands of dollars for the Wheelchair Foundation through the sale of their art. A simple belief that the Sumners share is you can always make a difference; this has been the fuel in their work, life and love together.

It is also the philosophy that recently brought them to Cabo San Lucas – but not for vacation. The couple came to help the Wheelchair Foundation distribute wheelchairs in the poverty-stricken neighborhoods of Mexico that surround the tourist destination.

Several years ago, Cabo experienced a boom in development. Jobs in construction and service work became available to accommodate the rapid growth of large homes and resorts. Hundreds of families moved to the outskirts of town, seeking such opportunities. Economic and environmental factors, however, affected new development and as projects slowed or ceased, the labor needs declined, leaving thousands of people unemployed and unable to earn a living, let alone afford a wheelchair.

George Sumner

Donnalei Sumner (center) and family join the team.

Once outside the tourists areas of Cabo, the poverty is evident. The Sumners joined the wheelchair distribution team as they headed to the barrios where the disabled live in desperately poor conditions without any means of transportation. Here, a wheelchair is an unthought-of luxury.

An elderly woman and her family greeted them at their first stop and welcomed the group into their tiny, well-kept home. The significance of this moment was apparent to everyone. No longer isolated, a grandmother could finally watch her grandchildren play outside; at last, this woman could enjoy a social life that, despite her lack of worldly possessions, would bring a wealth of happiness for years to come.

The Sumners then had an idea to make the occasion even more special. Donnalei handed her husband a set of permanent artist pens with which he painted a beautiful marinescape on the side of the wheelchair.

Blue and green hues stood out vibrantly against the brilliant red, shining wheelchair. When George Sumner had completed his piece, the elderly woman’s face flooded with tears of joy so contagious, no one was immune. More tears were shed as the team said goodbye and set out for the next delivery.

A young girl and her social worker were eagerly awaiting their arrival at their second stop. The girl, now in her late teens, had been born with deformities affecting both of her legs and dreamt of having independence her entire life. The girl’s hair had been styled and her fingernails delicately painted in preparation for today.

“They received a wheelchair, but George and I were the ones who truly got the gift.”

-Donnalei Sumner
on the reward of giving

The incredible significance of this event, like the one before it, was felt by all who were there. After a seemingly endless round of hugs and laughter, the Sumners surprised the already-tearful recipient with a special contribution as George painted another magnificent ocean scene on part of the glistening new wheelchair in which the girl sat, smiling in the sun.

This trip was a life-changing experience, not only for the recipients and their families, but also for the Sumners, who will never forget the overwhelming love shared by so many people. The Wheelchair Foundation was thankful to have the Sumners’ incredible assistance on this distribution and we’re always thankful for the support we get from our donors. George Sumner’s online gallery can be found at www.Sumner-Studios.com.

Mobility is a fundamental human necessity, not a luxury. A wheelchair allows those with disabilities to become a part of society and opens up a world where education, employment, and a better quality of life are possible. Donate today and help the Wheelchair Foundation deliver Hope, Mobility and Independence to the thousands of men, women, and children who still desperately need it.

Ghana celebrates International Day of People with Disability

December 3rd, 2011 – GHANA, WESTERN AFRICA

It was a long journey, but earlier this week I found myself in the city of Wa, Ghana, in western Africa. We traveled to Wa with our country partners, Ministerial Development and Relief Programme, to participate in Ghana’s celebration of the International Day of People with Disability.

We marched in a parade through the city with an array of people representing all sorts of disability, visual, physical, hearing impaired, etc. It was amazing, and certainly worth the effort to get there. There was only a single wheelchair in the parade, but it was one that had been donated years before by Wheelchair Foundation.

 

Rehabilitation Center in Ghana

December 7th, 2011 – KUMASI, GHANA

Wednesday we found ourselves in Kumasi, Ghana, where we visited a rehabilitation center for abandoned children and adults with disabilities. The center’s director talked with us about the challenges of social stigma in Ghana, and of how families would deliver children to the center and never return.

The center is totally supported through donations, and the 15 wheelchairs we presented to them will make a significant impact on those without mobility. Thanks again to Keegan Resources Inc., and African Gold Group for making this donation possible.

 

Salem Noshie and son, William Wonder

December 8th, 2011 – ACCRA, GHANA

Thursday, we witnessed the true power of modern technology in aid distribution. We presented a wheelchair to Salem Noshie, a woman living in Accra, Ghana, who had suffered a debilitating stroke nearly seven years earlier. She had contacted a woman, Janice, in the United States via the internet. Janice called me to ask if I could help, and I e-mailed her information to our partners on the ground in Accra. They contacted her son, William Wonder, and invited them to a distribution site in Accra.

I met Salem Noshie and William in person on Thursday afternoon. William handed me his mobile phone, and Janice was on the line in the United States and thanked me for helping her friend. It was at that point that I discovered that none of these people had ever met in person before, and the effort to assist Salem Noshie was all through e-mail, text, video chat and phone calls.

It was a great honor and pleasure to make this all come true for a very beautiful and deserving family who had been trying for years to obtain a simple wheelchair for a mother in need.

 

Women of Bamako

December 10th, 2011 – BAMAKO, MALI

On Saturday, we worked with partners AGEMPEM in Bamako, Mali, to distribute wheelchairs to individuals in need of mobility at the CVD Clinic of Mali. Among the many to receive wheelchairs were a group of four women, all of whom arrived on hands and knees and left with new red wheelchairs.

One participant commented, “By making these women mobile and happy, you have made all the women of Mali happy.”

 

Nouhoum Coulibaly and Gordon Holmes with recipients

December 11th, 2011 – SELINGUE, MALI

Sunday, we traveled to Selingue, southwest of Bamako, to distribute wheelchairs to people from surrounding villages. Here we again worked with partner AGEMPEM and members of African Gold Group, who had assisted in identifying recipients in the villages in remote areas where they work. Some recipients traveled 15 or more kilometers for the opportunity to receive their first wheelchairs.

Here, Nouhoum Coulibaly of AGG, and Gordon Holmes of Streetwise, Inc., work with recipients to ensure they understand the proper use of their new wheelchairs, and to hear their stories to better understand the plight of the disabled in rural Mali.

 

 

Disabled people of Bamako

December 11th, 2011 – BAMAKO, MALI

Sunday night, we returned to Bamako with AGEMPEM to continue our work. Interviewing those present, we learn that the cause of many of their disabilities remains a mystery. Some were victims of accidents, some water-borne disease, and some have no explanation.

When we inquire about the availability of mobility devices, most just shrug their shoulders. No money means no wheelchair, and one young man asked us to explain what a wheelchair was, because he had no idea.

 

 

A boy finally receives mobility

December 12th, 2011 – SANANKOROBA, MALI

“It never hurts to ask.”

Our final wheelchair distribution event in Mali occurred in Sanankoroba, south of the capital city of Bamako. We arrived to tribal drumming and women in colorful dress dancing in a wide circle.

As the women stomped in the sand and dust, a young man in a bright green soccer jersey, who was accompanied by his father, caught my eye. He seemed very focused on everything that was happening around him. He was aware of all of the dignitaries in attendance, the media, and the excitement of the crowd. I asked Isaac, the gentleman from AGEMPEM I was working with, what he knew about the boy. He spoke with the woman from the village, who was his primary contact, to get the child’s story.

As it turned out, the young man was a fixture in the village, one of the disabled who was always around. She told us that “He came by her school every day and asked her if she could help him in any way, maybe help him with his legs, which didn’t work.” She reached out to Isaac at about the same time Wheelchair Foundation contacted him about acting as consignee for our shipment of wheelchairs for Mali, nearly a year ago.

So, this day, after more than 12 months of asking at every opportunity, this young man finally got a wheelchair and no longer needs to crawl in the dirt, sand and dust. The evidence of his plight is shown in his face, his hands, knees and legs.

So many people from the village thanked us for delivering wheelchairs to their brothers and sisters that it made my head spin. They consider themselves too far off the map to ever receive aid, and yet we managed to reach them. The joy they shared with us and with one another at this wheelchair distribution was greater than the value of any material gift we could have been given.

Image Courtesy Official U.S. Navy Imagery

ACAJUTLA, El Salvador (July 18, 2011) Lt. Erinn Gelakoska, from St. Louis, fist bumps a Salvadoran child who just received a new wheelchair during a Continuing Promise 2011 community service medical event at the Polideportivo medical site. Continuing Promise is a five-month humanitarian assistance mission to the Caribbean and Central and South America. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Jonathen E. Davis/Released)