By Joyce M. Miles

milesj@gnnewspaper.com

Alex Franco and Jake Cappuccino look forward to the day when they’ll return to Africa.

The Lockport teens spent time overseas this past summer, assisting their parents with charity work, and say it was a life-altering experience.

Before their travels, Franco, a junior at Canisius High School, and Cappuccino, a junior at Nichols School, already knew Americans have better lives than most people in the world.

Actually going to some desolate, far-off place, and living with people who handle hardships they never imagined, made the young men realize they didn’t know so much after all. Working with the needy on their turf teaches lessons in humanity that can’t be learned from books, TV or school.

“You hear about the horrors of Africa and think you know. Then you go there and realize (the knowledge) is abstract,” Franco said. “People at (refugee camp) lost everything. Husbands and fathers were killed, hacked to death. A woman’s child was set on fire .... You put yourself in their shoes and you realize, they don’t feel any different than you would.”

“It shows us what we take for granted, I guess,” Cappuccino said.

The boys, close friends for years, did not travel to Africa together. They just happened to be there at the same time in late July, and met up briefly in Nairobi, Kenya, as the Cappuccino family was leaving the country and the Francos were on their way to Tanzania.

Back to basics

Jake Cappuccino joined his parents, surgeons Andrew and Helen Cappuccino, on a one-week medical mission at the AIC-CURE International Children’s Hospital in Kijabe, Kenya. The doctors were there to teach local orthopedic surgeons how to diagnose and correct spinal conditions like spinal tuberculosis, club foot and advanced scoliosis — all gross deformities rarely seen in the United States, thanks to advanced medicine.

Andrew, a spinal specialist, gave lectures and shadowed local doctors in diagnostic clinics, while Helen, a breast cancer surgeon, assisted him in 12 corrective procedures on children and young adults. They were painstaking surgeries, according to Helen, because antibiotics were scarce and extra blood was not available. The risk of HIV contamination is too high.

The CURE hospital is spartan by American standards but it’s a beacon by east Africa’s. Patients travel hundreds of miles to get treatment.

Jake, then 16, had two roles on the mission: being an operating room assistant and volunteering in the patient ward. OR duties such as fetching instruments and helping document cases weren’t difficult, but the sight of medical instruments cutting into skin did make him woozy.

The chance to befriend young patients and their families was more meaningful, Jake said. In observing a mom manage one child in a recovery bed and another still at her breast, or having a bright-eyed toddler latch onto him affectionately, he could see that poverty is physical, not emotional.

“These people had nothing, but they didn’t see it that way,” he said. “If I broke my wrist, my parents would get me to the hospital right away, get me (casted) and, of course, get the follow-ups. If someone breaks their wrist (in Kenya), they probably tough it out. ... It opens your eyes to what the rest of the world is dealing with.”

Striking to the doctors was the way diverse people came together at the hospital. Many African nations are rife with ethnic divisions; the family’s trip was supposed to take place about six months earlier but was postponeddue to violent unrest sparked by tribal rivalry in the Kenyan presidential election. Helen said she felt some anxiety about going because of the conflict but trusted CURE’s assessment that the unrest had calmed.

Once there, she was awed to find feared differences leveled by common need. The parent of a patient who spoke English volunteered to be an interpreter for those who did not.

“There were people from all backgrounds and religions, Christian, Muslim, pagan, who came to the hospital. They all had kids who had a problem and they all cooperated to get (kids) better,” Helen said. “If only the whole world could be that way.”

The Cappuccinos amassed about $100,000 of donated medical equipment from Kenmore Mercy Hospital, Roswell Park Cancer Institute and manufacturers that Andrew works with, and gave it to the CURE hospital. Andrew continues to consult with the doctors by e-mail.

The couple already are counting on another Kijabe CURE mission as soon as next spring or summer, and Helen is on the lookout for a mission that all six Cappuccino children, ages 14 to 27, could join their parents in.

Professionally, the Cappuccinos said, medical mission work is about getting back to basics.

“There’s something to be said for eliminating all the nonsense — the insurance companies, the pre-approvals — and just doing the work,” Helen said. “It is so gratifying to just take care of people and know you’re making a huge difference for them.”

Andrew, who gained national recognition as the leader of the medical team that saved the life and mobility of former Buffalo Bills tight end Kevin Everett last year, says the CURE mission means far more to him.

"We went to Kenya hoping to get back to the grass roots of taking care of patients, no strings attached,” he said. “It’s the most rewarding thing that I’ve ever done, including everything I’ve done in the last two to three years. It helps me understand why I do what I do. ... Nobody has anything but everybody comes together. It’s a wonderful thing to see.”

The joy of giving

Alex Franco and his mom, Deborah, carried a hockey bag full of Lockport greetings to Nairobi, Kenya, in July.

The contents — flip-flops, socks, bubbles, soccer balls, beach balls, candy necklaces and cookies, all donated freely by the Francos’ friends around town — were very warmly received by the women and children at Limuru refugee camp, Alex said.

The Francos spent 17 days in Africa, mainly Tanzania, for ALARM Inc., a Christian mission that teaches leadership and entrepreneurship in impoverished areas.

Deborah discovered ALARM, and CURE for the Cappuccinos, in the course of her work as a salesperson for RAPTIM International Travel, a Jesuit-held enterprise that negotiates with airlines on behalf of humanitarian organizations.

Africa was not Deborah’s first mission — she’s been a volunteer in Azerbaijan, where her husband Ron, a pilot with the 914th Airlift Wing, also served — but it was Alex’s first. He says the stop at Limuru was not on their travel plan initially but it ended up being the best part of the trip.

The stories of why refugees ended up at Limuru are haunting, but like his friend, Jake, Alex also sized up poverty as an affliction of the body, not the spirit. From simple gifts like flip-flops and candy, and a chance meeting with the friendly young man bearing them, the refugees took pure joy — as any child would.

“In those commercials about helping poor kids, all you see are people sad and desperate; then that music starts,” Alex said. “In reality, yes, these kids are in a hard place, but they’re really happy.

“They loved the ‘peepee,” he adds, laughing. “That’s candy.”

Alex acquired an unusual nickname in Kenya, too.

Seventy degrees felt good to Alex, but in Africa it was winter, so the natives were a bit dumbstruck to see him walking around in shorts and a T-shirt while they huddled in winter coats. He soon learned from an English-speaking refugee that he’d been dubbed “gorilla legs.”

“Africans don’t have hair on their legs,” Alex said. “They figured my (body) hair kept me warm.”

In Tanzania, the Francos made daily trips through Dar es Salaam, a half-Christian, half-Muslim city, visiting small business started with ALARM microfinancing funds. For example, a widow with four children who believed she’s a good cook got $50 to open a food stand. Deborah says the woman succeeded in growing the business to the point she can now afford to send her children to school.

In their walks around the city, the Francos’ duties were to buy something from each ALARM-supported business and give the product to another; and inquire about repayment of the $50 startup loan. If the entrepreneurs paid it back, the Francos promptly gave them $100 to reinvest in the business.

In Dar es Salaam, the Francos stayed with a pastor whose son, a college student in Texas, will visit them in Lockport next month. Alex also is corresponding by e-mail with the pastor and a few other new Tanzanian friends, and recently learned the community has great need for a well.

Alex isn’t sure when he’ll get back to Africa, but he knows he can always start a fundraiser here to help get the well built. His mission didn’t end when he came home, he says; continuing it is a blessing.

“It makes you feel like you’re doing something in the world rather than just helping yourself,” he said.