I had another conversation today while eating my lunch (Janelle is out of town so I was eating alone upstairs when my "friend" came by) and this same situation has happened time and again. We have many friends here, but it never quite feels like the friendships you have at home. Some come very very close, but there's always something that is so different between you that doesn't allow for it to be the same. Anyways, this person works at the house, changes our water for us, washes dishes, cleans, helps cook, runs errands etc. Today was the blessed day. I was asked for money by him to buy sandals. Sigh. It gets frustrating sometimes because it's at that time that our relationship feels different, it changes. As friendly as I can be, it doesn't always go very far. The reality is, I could give him that money. I do have a bank account. I do have emergency funds in my room. But the problem? I give him money it just creates a pattern. Don't get me wrong, when someone needs money for food or in some other situations, I do give it, but it's so hard to know at which times it's the best decision. A piece of me feels hurt or frustrated that they ask me. Another part wonders if that's a sign of friendship, that he feels comfortable enough to ask. In this situation, that's not the case. And yet can I blame him for asking me? It can't hurt right? Maybe he'll get some cash! Sigh.
Sigh...Sigh...Sigh...
And in this culture, if you say no, it's as if you have just created for yourself an enemy. Nobody says no. When in this situation I'm caught off guard and I often have no idea how to respond. Also it being in another language makes things even more complicated (am I sure I understood what he was asking for correctly? Did he say he wanted money to buy some sandals or he wanted to wash my sandals...?) So, did I just create an enemy for myself? I doubt it. It just sucks. Changes our relationship. Makes me feel like all I'm good for is my money, which I know isn't true but just often feels that way. Anyways, learning how to respond to the needs of this community sometimes seems impossible. Like it's a lose lose situation. Help them and create dependency and precedent, say no and have a new enemy and be viewed poorly. God give me wisdom and patience and love! And don't forget the patience please! :)
Monday, June 14
Sunday, June 13
Container of Corn
I found myself feeling frustrated last week and going off on a little rant with some friends (and 2 visiting missionaries from outside Port au Prince). Here’s why.
There is another mission in Limbé that receives a container full of corn on a regular basis. The mission grinds it and gives it away. At first glance, I think, “yes, this is a wonderful idea. Someone has corn in the USA to donate, and the people here are being fed. Nice”. Then I start to think a little further, about the shipping cost of that container. I know when we shipped the container full of hospital supplies that it cost quite a bit (although we did get a good deal, now looking back). Whatever, that’s not important. Let’s just realize that it costs money to ship things down to Haiti. That being said, this “free” donation also takes away from the local farmers here, trying to grow and sell corn. So, as I think about these lovely people who have this extra corn in the States who are trying to make a difference (getting a tax receipt?), I can’t help but think about these local farmers. I mean, I’m glad that we can support the shipping companies. I’m glad we can support the economy in the States. But it seems like we are only kind of helping. Like there could be a better way. There always seems to be a better way around here and yet it seems we can’t quite attain it. What if these people donated the money that they spend on shipping the container to the mission, the mission went out and bought corn from the local market, then ground it, and gave it out for free. My guess is, you’d have a lot more corn to give away and you’d help 2 parties locally instead of 1 locally and 1 in the USA. I know it doesn’t feel as good to give money, it feels much better to pack a container full of corn, deliver it to the shipping yard and send it on its merry way, but there just seems to be a better way. And yet you don’t want to turn away the donation either right? I mean at least we are helping in some way. And as a local person on the ground, you try so hard to keep donors and organizations happy. Sometimes I feel though, that what’s important is thinking about what’s best for those living here, every single day. Who’s children will grow old here. Who will take over the family farm. Generations and generations.
As I live and work here I recognize that what I do is not always the best way. That I’ve made mistakes, I’ve been short-tempered and jumped to conclusions. I’ve been impatient and very “American” in so many ways. But this example above just eats away at me. It’s the same with the rice problem a few years ago – when the USA decided to donate free rice to Haiti so long as the taxes were lifted on imports/exports (I’m not sure exactly of all the details regarding the tariffs but I know that the free rice from the USA put a lot of local farmers out of business and that the USA rice is cheaper here then the locally grown rice. Boo!). Good intentions of helping. Maybe there’s a better way?
Anyways, I wish there was an easy answer. There isn’t.
There is another mission in Limbé that receives a container full of corn on a regular basis. The mission grinds it and gives it away. At first glance, I think, “yes, this is a wonderful idea. Someone has corn in the USA to donate, and the people here are being fed. Nice”. Then I start to think a little further, about the shipping cost of that container. I know when we shipped the container full of hospital supplies that it cost quite a bit (although we did get a good deal, now looking back). Whatever, that’s not important. Let’s just realize that it costs money to ship things down to Haiti. That being said, this “free” donation also takes away from the local farmers here, trying to grow and sell corn. So, as I think about these lovely people who have this extra corn in the States who are trying to make a difference (getting a tax receipt?), I can’t help but think about these local farmers. I mean, I’m glad that we can support the shipping companies. I’m glad we can support the economy in the States. But it seems like we are only kind of helping. Like there could be a better way. There always seems to be a better way around here and yet it seems we can’t quite attain it. What if these people donated the money that they spend on shipping the container to the mission, the mission went out and bought corn from the local market, then ground it, and gave it out for free. My guess is, you’d have a lot more corn to give away and you’d help 2 parties locally instead of 1 locally and 1 in the USA. I know it doesn’t feel as good to give money, it feels much better to pack a container full of corn, deliver it to the shipping yard and send it on its merry way, but there just seems to be a better way. And yet you don’t want to turn away the donation either right? I mean at least we are helping in some way. And as a local person on the ground, you try so hard to keep donors and organizations happy. Sometimes I feel though, that what’s important is thinking about what’s best for those living here, every single day. Who’s children will grow old here. Who will take over the family farm. Generations and generations.
As I live and work here I recognize that what I do is not always the best way. That I’ve made mistakes, I’ve been short-tempered and jumped to conclusions. I’ve been impatient and very “American” in so many ways. But this example above just eats away at me. It’s the same with the rice problem a few years ago – when the USA decided to donate free rice to Haiti so long as the taxes were lifted on imports/exports (I’m not sure exactly of all the details regarding the tariffs but I know that the free rice from the USA put a lot of local farmers out of business and that the USA rice is cheaper here then the locally grown rice. Boo!). Good intentions of helping. Maybe there’s a better way?
Anyways, I wish there was an easy answer. There isn’t.
Saturday, June 12
A Trip to the Mechanic
I needed to go to the bank in Cap this week so I tagged along on the trip to fix the tires on the Clinic truck. We made our stops along the way (always multiple and never explained) and finally made it to the mechanics. It’s just on some street, somewhere. We pulled up and Ben told them what he wanted and away they went. We went to pick up a drink and some bread in a nice air-conditioned restaurant just down the street. Back we took our snack. I was given a chair on the sidewalk to sit on. Enjoying my snack in the shade, trying not to move to avoid getting sweaty. Apparently they were going to do all 4 tires, I found this out after about 30-45 minutes of them working on the first tire. Seriously? Why didn’t I stay in the nice cold restaurant!? Oh well. The sun is slowly getting closer and closer to me as it peeks over the overhang that I’m hiding under. Scared little white girl, hiding from the sun on her comfy chair. But the best part of the long tire-fixing expedition? I “blended in” for a short time. People didn’t stop and stare at me. No one called out “blanc”. No one snuck a touch/rub/caress of my arm, hand, or leg. The only comment was made by a lovely lady passing by, instructing the men to “fix the truck well as there was a beautiful white who would ride in it.” It was nice to not stick out for awhile, at least not as much.
You never know what you are getting yourself into when you take a trip into Cap. On Sunday Janelle and I went into Cap with 2 of our friends. Thinking we could get out of town for a bit (hadn’t been out in about 2 weeks due to sickness and no vehicle) we were looking forward to a nice meal and relaxing together with friends. We were told beforehand that there was trouble with the truck, but that all we had to do was have some guys push it to get it started. Put in third gear was what we were suggested. No problem! Well we get to Cap, and Ben decides to stop to visit his second father, “for only 5 minutes…” Anyways, we visit with “Monsieur France,” as I like to call him and then proceed to drive up the bumpy street (more like a terrible back lane). We find a place to turn around, by Haitian standards anyways, I’m thinking it’ll be about an 8 point turn. We get stuck in a little trench so we put the truck in 4-wheel drive. Next thing we know we stall. Ben tries to start it again, thinking no big deal. BIG DEAL! The truck doesn’t start unless you push it, we were told that when we left! How will we push it when we are perpendicular to the road!? Janelle and my reaction? We laugh. Hysterically. Because we are parked the opposite that we should be, blocking the entire road (thankfully it’s not a busy street and only one car came to pass). Sigh. After a little while, we get our hands on Monsieur France’s car battery, start our truck and head on our way. The guys still think we are going all the way into Cap for a nice meal. It’s 6:30pm at this time and we know it’s not the best decision to drive back on the road late at night. So we agree to eat at the nearest gas station. Ham and cheese sandwiches in a dark, freezing cold room, with a bunch of guys watching a movie/or us. Nice. We finish up and try to start the truck again. Of course, nothing. We planned ahead and parked where someone could push us. Out they get to push the truck. Nothing. A little boy comes along asking if he can get his friends to help push (they hang out there to “wash” your car in hopes of a few gourdes). So along come about 4 little 10 year olds. Ha! They push us backwards (with some other random people’s help), then try and push us forwards again. Nothing. Of course Ben won’t listen to the instructions of putting it in 3rd gear, he’s in second. But what would we know… Janelle and I are hysterical, once again. We get yelled at by friends to stop laughing –that it’s not funny. We reply,” it’s this or cry”. Take your pick. Laughing it is. We borrow a battery from another tap-tap (very old beater truck that taxies people around – public transportation) and away we go. Back home. Sigh. Not exactly the nice night out we’d hoped for, but it would have to suffice. Sigh, lovely life here. So unpredictable. Sometimes so frustrating. Sometimes just hilarious. We were told by one friend that this is life here in Haiti. My response was, yes I agree, but there’s also a human factor to this. The battery could have been bought last week when there were troubles and then we wouldn’t be in this situation. But let’s not think about that okay? I might go just a little nutty…
Oh well. Made for an interesting night. Everything is always just interesting...!
Tuesday, June 8
Diabetes, diabetes, diabetes
Yesterday I spent a few hours with Dr. Manno as he saw patients. I just sat there, listening, observing, thinking. Manno would explain things to me as we went along. I asked a few questions, but mainly I just observed. We had about 15 diabetic patients (or maybe even more). They come on a regular basis to have their blood pressure checked, get more medication, talk about complications or pains they are having. Manno said that depending on their case, they might only come once a month for insulin. Once a month!? A country of starving people and diabetes is so common here. Seems ridiculous.
Last summer we picked up a patient in the jungle and she lived with us for 1 month and then returned a couple weeks later for a week or two. She was malnourished and diabetic. So tiny, yet I remember her hands and feet being huge (likely not that big, but she was very tall and about 18 years old, so likely they were normal size just ginormous because she was just bones). She passed away after leaving our house and it was mainly because she just didn't want to live. No fight left. Life here is hard. Not just hard. Sometimes it's impossible. With a condition like hers, and lack of food, it was almost impossible to stay alive. Where would she get insulin from? And if she could get it, how would she pay for it. And if she could get it, where would she keep it? And how would she monitor her food intake if she has no food, or only has access to the wrong kinds of food. And that's what SO many people here deal with.
Manno told the patients again, what to eat and what not to eat. One man asked if he could eat mangoes. You see, mangoes are in season and are everywhere right now, those are free these days. I was glad to hear Manno tell him he could continue eating them. How do you stay away from certain foods when you just hope to eat something that day?
One patient had sores. One was very skinny (but Manno says he's gaining weight). One had a backache, others had other problems. Sigh. Diabetes.
Manno mentioned that if you have Aids here you can receive medication for free in Cap Haitien. But diabetes. Pffff. Good luck. We are waiting for a box of medications (including insulin) from someone in the States. Patients were told it would be here on Monday, and so they waited. The boxes came, this box was not included. I hope they can make it until we find more medication for them. Life here is different. Being in the doctors office reminded me of that.
A little girl fell at school and walked in with a small gash in her forehead. Blood on her yellow school uniform. No tears. No expression. She got up on the examination table, laid down, and Manno gave her 1 stitch. No point in freezing it as that would hurt just as much as the stitch. She didn't flinch. Didn't even clench her fists. She was maybe 8 or 10. She makes us look weak. They all do. Gulp.
Last summer we picked up a patient in the jungle and she lived with us for 1 month and then returned a couple weeks later for a week or two. She was malnourished and diabetic. So tiny, yet I remember her hands and feet being huge (likely not that big, but she was very tall and about 18 years old, so likely they were normal size just ginormous because she was just bones). She passed away after leaving our house and it was mainly because she just didn't want to live. No fight left. Life here is hard. Not just hard. Sometimes it's impossible. With a condition like hers, and lack of food, it was almost impossible to stay alive. Where would she get insulin from? And if she could get it, how would she pay for it. And if she could get it, where would she keep it? And how would she monitor her food intake if she has no food, or only has access to the wrong kinds of food. And that's what SO many people here deal with.
Manno told the patients again, what to eat and what not to eat. One man asked if he could eat mangoes. You see, mangoes are in season and are everywhere right now, those are free these days. I was glad to hear Manno tell him he could continue eating them. How do you stay away from certain foods when you just hope to eat something that day?
One patient had sores. One was very skinny (but Manno says he's gaining weight). One had a backache, others had other problems. Sigh. Diabetes.
Manno mentioned that if you have Aids here you can receive medication for free in Cap Haitien. But diabetes. Pffff. Good luck. We are waiting for a box of medications (including insulin) from someone in the States. Patients were told it would be here on Monday, and so they waited. The boxes came, this box was not included. I hope they can make it until we find more medication for them. Life here is different. Being in the doctors office reminded me of that.
A little girl fell at school and walked in with a small gash in her forehead. Blood on her yellow school uniform. No tears. No expression. She got up on the examination table, laid down, and Manno gave her 1 stitch. No point in freezing it as that would hurt just as much as the stitch. She didn't flinch. Didn't even clench her fists. She was maybe 8 or 10. She makes us look weak. They all do. Gulp.
Saturday, May 22
Hold my place in line please!
The banks here in Haiti are very similar to banks at home. They look about the same. The tellers sit behind a desk. There's a guard at the front. A ribbon to help direct the line. One difference though that I love every time I go is that if you need to step out of the line for a moment (to answer your cell phone, to talk to someone, to get another deposit slip, etc), you may enter the line at the same place when you return. Every time I go to Unibank there are about 30 people in the line and it usually takes about an hour to get through.
Well, a couple of Saturdays ago we arrived at Unibank about 1 hour before closing time. After standing in line for about 15 minutes with my friend Ben, I realized that my bank (Fonkoze) might close earlier then Unibank. So, we decided to leave and catch another motorcycle to Fonkoze. We finished there, caught our 3rd motorcycle back to Unibank, and Ben walks right into the same place in line as when he left! This is about 30-45 minutes later. We return and yup, he just takes the same place in line. I was shocked! And yet not one person flinched. Can you imagine that in Canada? I mean, we don't usually have 1 hour line ups for things, especially at a bank, but if we did? Sheesh. People freak out if you "cut" them or "budge". I'd love to see that. Life here continues to amaze me.
Things to do at night cont'd:
26. Measure your height on the wall. Apparently I've grown and am now 5 feet tall!
27. Scratch your mosquito bites
28. Sing old songs (7 Club Seven, Spice Girls, Salt N' Pepa)
Well, a couple of Saturdays ago we arrived at Unibank about 1 hour before closing time. After standing in line for about 15 minutes with my friend Ben, I realized that my bank (Fonkoze) might close earlier then Unibank. So, we decided to leave and catch another motorcycle to Fonkoze. We finished there, caught our 3rd motorcycle back to Unibank, and Ben walks right into the same place in line as when he left! This is about 30-45 minutes later. We return and yup, he just takes the same place in line. I was shocked! And yet not one person flinched. Can you imagine that in Canada? I mean, we don't usually have 1 hour line ups for things, especially at a bank, but if we did? Sheesh. People freak out if you "cut" them or "budge". I'd love to see that. Life here continues to amaze me.
Things to do at night cont'd:
26. Measure your height on the wall. Apparently I've grown and am now 5 feet tall!
27. Scratch your mosquito bites
28. Sing old songs (7 Club Seven, Spice Girls, Salt N' Pepa)
Thursday, May 20
I is sweaty
I would like to write an entry today about how human beings adapt. Both as Haitians adapt to life here and as I adapt to life here. But rather, I am hot, sweaty, and have little patience left, so I plan to only share a few random thoughts.
I can't really speak English anymore. Anyone who's been here has learned this quickly (hence title). I can't really speak Creole well either, enough to get by and understand and say what I need. I also can't seem to think properlly. Charcoal is kind of like fire right...? Ugh.
Waiting here in Haiti is a common, everyday, occurrence. My time at the Clinic in this role is completed at the end of July. To me that's not much time to make sure that the 2 accountants know what they need to know. I can't teach them when they are not there. Sometimes I wait hours for them to show up. ("I'll be back in 30-40 minutes turns out to be 4 hours). Sigh. I also feel like I'm repeating myself, repeatedly! This would be why my patience is on the low end right now. Thank goodness for laughter though. Where would I be without laughing with friends.
I take frequent withdrawals from the patience bank. There are little "shacks" or buildings here in Haiti that are called the patience bank (it's not a bank but some kind of lottery, not really sure exactly how it works though or when because I don't see people in them often). I don't often make deposits in my own patience bank account but I know that back home many are doing this for me (thanks for all the prayers and deposits!!!)
It's getting hot around here. I dread the days of constant sweat and smells you never knew were possible to come from your body. Any week now. It's been cloudy the last week and a half but it's still hot. I is sweaty and I is smelly.
We have a big/important committee meeting tomorrow evening. A lot of financial matters and procedures to discuss. All prayers would be appreciated.
And m'ap tann. Chak jou, m'ap tann
(I am waiting. Every day, I am waiting)
I can't really speak English anymore. Anyone who's been here has learned this quickly (hence title). I can't really speak Creole well either, enough to get by and understand and say what I need. I also can't seem to think properlly. Charcoal is kind of like fire right...? Ugh.
Waiting here in Haiti is a common, everyday, occurrence. My time at the Clinic in this role is completed at the end of July. To me that's not much time to make sure that the 2 accountants know what they need to know. I can't teach them when they are not there. Sometimes I wait hours for them to show up. ("I'll be back in 30-40 minutes turns out to be 4 hours). Sigh. I also feel like I'm repeating myself, repeatedly! This would be why my patience is on the low end right now. Thank goodness for laughter though. Where would I be without laughing with friends.
I take frequent withdrawals from the patience bank. There are little "shacks" or buildings here in Haiti that are called the patience bank (it's not a bank but some kind of lottery, not really sure exactly how it works though or when because I don't see people in them often). I don't often make deposits in my own patience bank account but I know that back home many are doing this for me (thanks for all the prayers and deposits!!!)
It's getting hot around here. I dread the days of constant sweat and smells you never knew were possible to come from your body. Any week now. It's been cloudy the last week and a half but it's still hot. I is sweaty and I is smelly.
We have a big/important committee meeting tomorrow evening. A lot of financial matters and procedures to discuss. All prayers would be appreciated.
And m'ap tann. Chak jou, m'ap tann
(I am waiting. Every day, I am waiting)
Tuesday, May 18
A few more things to do at night...
16. waiting
17. calling/texting friends to see where they are
18. sit and wait
19. talking with friends in the dark
20. move to another room and sit
21. bolting upright when the light comes on the middle of the night because there is suddenly edh for some random reason and you left the light switch turned on
22. practice walking in heels
23. put make-up by lamp light
24. fold clothes
25. swat mosquitoes buzzing in your ears
17. calling/texting friends to see where they are
18. sit and wait
19. talking with friends in the dark
20. move to another room and sit
21. bolting upright when the light comes on the middle of the night because there is suddenly edh for some random reason and you left the light switch turned on
22. practice walking in heels
23. put make-up by lamp light
24. fold clothes
25. swat mosquitoes buzzing in your ears
Saturday, May 15
Those feelings...
I was sent the link to this blog. It explains so much of how I feel being here most days.
http://blexi.blogspot.com/2010/04/why-i-have-not-made-dinner.html
I'm not sure exactly how to make living in Haiti sustainable, but I sure would like to try.
http://blexi.blogspot.com/2010/04/why-i-have-not-made-dinner.html
I'm not sure exactly how to make living in Haiti sustainable, but I sure would like to try.
101 Things to do at night in your house in Haiti
- Play with candle wax
- Make hand puppets on the wall from the candlelight
- Put lotion on your wrist to try and rub off the thick black hair (from wearing a cast for 2.5 months)
- Kill spiders
- Kill cockroaches
- Kill vonvons (huge beetles that fly around like their drunk)
- Play with the mosquito net hanging above your bed
- Laugh about the ridiculousness of the day
- Clip your nails with a headlamp
- Watch the Gecko's each moths
- Learn new fun Creole words (souke bouda ou = shake your butt)
- Send morris code messages to your roommate with your ipod light in the bed next to yours
- Make up songs to the rooster, drum, chickens and dogs all "singing" at the same time
- Pull down your books, movies, cosmetics etc. from the "bookshelf (windowsill)" when the rain starts coming down
- Find ways to stay cool
Friday, May 14
Learning the "language"
"M'ap vini" mean I am coming, or I am coming back. You'd think that means in the near future, maybe withing the hour, but really it could mean tomorrow, or maybe in weeks to come. Maybe you'll never see them again!
30-40 minutes might mean 4 hours. When I say might, I mean, it did yesterday.
"I am coming in some minutes" can mean whatever they want it to. This one makes me laugh every time I think about it. I don't think that would fly anywhere else. "I'll be there in some minutes..."
(after making a trip to Cap Haitian, the information was), "I am on the road." This means exactly what it says. Somewhere on the road. Not necessarily on the road BACK to the Clinic and not necessarily close. It means literally, I'm on the road. That was the phone call I received yesterday to inform me of their expected time back. 1.5 hours later the truck drove by...
Haitian friend says: "I don't want to tell you a time that I'm coming back because then it could be a lie" (if they are late you see).
Canadian friend says: "Well just make a good estimate as to when you think you'll come back and try to get back by then. Try REALLY hard..." (patience a little thin at this point).
Haitian friend says: "Okay, maybe 7:30pm."
Canadian friend says: "Great, I will see you then."
8pm rolls around and I see above Haitian friend at the corner NOT with my above Canadian friend who's at our house waiting.
So I ask: "What are you doing here!!!?"
He replies: "Oh, I'm sorry. That's why I didn't want to tell her a time. Tell her I'm coming in 15 minutes..."
I reply: "Don't say sorry to me. Get your butt up there! ;)"
Sigh.
30-40 minutes might mean 4 hours. When I say might, I mean, it did yesterday.
"I am coming in some minutes" can mean whatever they want it to. This one makes me laugh every time I think about it. I don't think that would fly anywhere else. "I'll be there in some minutes..."
(after making a trip to Cap Haitian, the information was), "I am on the road." This means exactly what it says. Somewhere on the road. Not necessarily on the road BACK to the Clinic and not necessarily close. It means literally, I'm on the road. That was the phone call I received yesterday to inform me of their expected time back. 1.5 hours later the truck drove by...
Haitian friend says: "I don't want to tell you a time that I'm coming back because then it could be a lie" (if they are late you see).
Canadian friend says: "Well just make a good estimate as to when you think you'll come back and try to get back by then. Try REALLY hard..." (patience a little thin at this point).
Haitian friend says: "Okay, maybe 7:30pm."
Canadian friend says: "Great, I will see you then."
8pm rolls around and I see above Haitian friend at the corner NOT with my above Canadian friend who's at our house waiting.
So I ask: "What are you doing here!!!?"
He replies: "Oh, I'm sorry. That's why I didn't want to tell her a time. Tell her I'm coming in 15 minutes..."
I reply: "Don't say sorry to me. Get your butt up there! ;)"
Sigh.
Wednesday, May 12
Made it home
We made it home safely on Sunday. Quite the contrast coming from the DR back to Haiti. It hit me more this way then going to the DR. Across one river, life is so different. That's all that divides the two countries. Words can't even begin to describe.
As we were waiting in the bus depot in Santiago (before we crossed the border), the waiting area was filled with Haitians. I suddenly began to feel like I was coming home, listening to the conversations in Creole (is it eavesdropping if you don't really understand it all...?), seeing the differences in clothes, styles, choice of food, luggage. As we boarded the bus people talked to one another. Yup, that's Haitians. So friendly. We had friends waiting for us at the bus depot in Cape and things suddenly seemed back to normal.
Of course we were greeted with no water at the house to bathe with (I hadn't washed my newly cut/styled hair since Friday). A walk over to the University to the missionaries house was our solution. Looking back it doesn't seem that bad. At the time, it sucks.
Being back at work is a little crazy, but that was so be expected. Things went well while I was gone so that's an encouragement. There's still much to do but it feels like we are making progress. We have 3 months of reporting to compare so we are finally gaining some perspective of the organization and situation. It drives me crazy that things are so expensive here. Medication costs about the equivalent that it would in North America. How could an organization even be self sustaining in a country like this when so many patients can't afford to see a doctor or to buy medications. So frustrating.
Beth made it here safely. She's been working on the database that I started working on in the summer. She will be teaching the archivists how to use the program and will help them implement the system. This is huge progress for the Clinic. Once we work out all the kinks it will be great!
Tiling is almost finished at the clinic. The nursing station and the VIP rooms still need to be done. Once everything gets cleaned up and washed it will be a beautiful facility. The septic hole has some cement in it now. I think that's important because of the rain...(I know nothing about this kind of stuff!). The depot is fairly organized and we are looking at building some more shelves in the near future.
Last night we went to Cap to have dinner with an old friend (Kathy Brawley), her mom, daughter and a few others that are with her. It was great to chat with them. I drove to Cap as Manno was exhausted. First time I've driven there again since I've been back. Good to remember that I am able to drive.
Plans for the week? Well, today I hope to get progress on fixing our internet. That's my big task. That and having a conversation with the pastor about starting the computer lab/program. Not sure exactly what the best move would be but hope that it all works out!
I also recently found out that I passed my statistics class that I was finishing while I was down here. What a relief! I'm so close to being finished with my degree and yet it seems so far and difficult while being down here. 5 classes is only 1 semester, and yet that's a lot of distance courses!
The clinic continues to do work down in Port au Prince. Building some houses or structures, giving out food packages, caring for needs. We are working on an upate for the donors so I will post that for those interested when it's finished.
Live in Haiti is crazy. Hot. Exciting. Unpredictable. Hilarious. Frustrating. It's about everything, everyday. I started running again, so hopefully that will help with all of the above! :)
As we were waiting in the bus depot in Santiago (before we crossed the border), the waiting area was filled with Haitians. I suddenly began to feel like I was coming home, listening to the conversations in Creole (is it eavesdropping if you don't really understand it all...?), seeing the differences in clothes, styles, choice of food, luggage. As we boarded the bus people talked to one another. Yup, that's Haitians. So friendly. We had friends waiting for us at the bus depot in Cape and things suddenly seemed back to normal.
Of course we were greeted with no water at the house to bathe with (I hadn't washed my newly cut/styled hair since Friday). A walk over to the University to the missionaries house was our solution. Looking back it doesn't seem that bad. At the time, it sucks.
Being back at work is a little crazy, but that was so be expected. Things went well while I was gone so that's an encouragement. There's still much to do but it feels like we are making progress. We have 3 months of reporting to compare so we are finally gaining some perspective of the organization and situation. It drives me crazy that things are so expensive here. Medication costs about the equivalent that it would in North America. How could an organization even be self sustaining in a country like this when so many patients can't afford to see a doctor or to buy medications. So frustrating.
Beth made it here safely. She's been working on the database that I started working on in the summer. She will be teaching the archivists how to use the program and will help them implement the system. This is huge progress for the Clinic. Once we work out all the kinks it will be great!
Tiling is almost finished at the clinic. The nursing station and the VIP rooms still need to be done. Once everything gets cleaned up and washed it will be a beautiful facility. The septic hole has some cement in it now. I think that's important because of the rain...(I know nothing about this kind of stuff!). The depot is fairly organized and we are looking at building some more shelves in the near future.
Last night we went to Cap to have dinner with an old friend (Kathy Brawley), her mom, daughter and a few others that are with her. It was great to chat with them. I drove to Cap as Manno was exhausted. First time I've driven there again since I've been back. Good to remember that I am able to drive.
Plans for the week? Well, today I hope to get progress on fixing our internet. That's my big task. That and having a conversation with the pastor about starting the computer lab/program. Not sure exactly what the best move would be but hope that it all works out!
I also recently found out that I passed my statistics class that I was finishing while I was down here. What a relief! I'm so close to being finished with my degree and yet it seems so far and difficult while being down here. 5 classes is only 1 semester, and yet that's a lot of distance courses!
The clinic continues to do work down in Port au Prince. Building some houses or structures, giving out food packages, caring for needs. We are working on an upate for the donors so I will post that for those interested when it's finished.
Live in Haiti is crazy. Hot. Exciting. Unpredictable. Hilarious. Frustrating. It's about everything, everyday. I started running again, so hopefully that will help with all of the above! :)
Saturday, May 8
Heading back and looking ahead
The end of our vacation is quickly coming to a close. Yesterday we took a bus from Puerta Plata to Santiago and spent the afternoon getting our hair cut/styled and enjoying a nice meal with friends. What a treat that was. While joking with Tammi (our missionary friend that we are hanging out and staying with) about life in Haiti, it was a reminder of life there. The unpredictableness of everything. The waiting. The poverty. No water or electricity. I was also reminded though, of the reasons why I love being there. The spirit and resilience of our Haitian brothers and sisters. The purpose of the health clinic that I'm attempting to help at. The laughs and tears that are shed there.
I don't feel ready to head back tomorrow. To have my heart broken all over again. It seems I was able to shut that all off for a week and a half while being in the DR. I don't feel ready to be in sensory overload: the smells, the sites, the noises, all the painful realities. Some days it feels difficult to have hope for this country. When you look at life in the DR you hope only that life in Haiti could develop to even a fraction of what they have here. I wish so deeply that there was some easy solution to creating jobs for Haitians. That they could have the choice to work. That they wouldn't have to rely on their children and the education that they are getting to earn an income to help the family. I just wish they had a choice. Do they? Where?
Over the next couple months I will be trying to ensure that the guys working as the accountants will be equipped with the tools that they need. How do you teach someone about accounting, about transparency, about all that's included in making good financial decisions and accountability for an organization, while at the same time attempting to teach them how to use a computer in order to do all that (all in 6 months time)? I feel like there's never an end to this task. They have been learning so much on their own with regards to Excel and Word, but there's just so much to know. And when you haven't grown up with computers, it's all brand new to you. And when you don't have training or experience in the field, it seems to just take a little longer. So, these next few months will interesting. I have no idea how the "wrap-up" will turn out.
I've been brainstorming about what's to come following the end of July. While here in the summer I mentioned in my blog that I had an idea or a dream as to what I would do if I ever came back to Haiti (following August 2009). It seems to still be on my heart quite heavly. I would love to teach people how to use a computer and how to type properlly. The internet and computers are an amazing thing and I so wish that the community of Haut Limbe would be able to have the chance to get to know the rest of the world through the internet (and talk to family for free on Skype, or at least know that it's an option!). So, over the next couple of weeks I hope to have some conversations with a few people about the realities of this task. I would love any ideas or connections that people might have for me regarding this. How would we find and get laptops down here? Are there good programs to teach typing? Is there a foundation that does work like this already in Haiti that we could partner with? Any suggestions or contacts?
I don't feel ready to head back tomorrow. To have my heart broken all over again. It seems I was able to shut that all off for a week and a half while being in the DR. I don't feel ready to be in sensory overload: the smells, the sites, the noises, all the painful realities. Some days it feels difficult to have hope for this country. When you look at life in the DR you hope only that life in Haiti could develop to even a fraction of what they have here. I wish so deeply that there was some easy solution to creating jobs for Haitians. That they could have the choice to work. That they wouldn't have to rely on their children and the education that they are getting to earn an income to help the family. I just wish they had a choice. Do they? Where?
Over the next couple months I will be trying to ensure that the guys working as the accountants will be equipped with the tools that they need. How do you teach someone about accounting, about transparency, about all that's included in making good financial decisions and accountability for an organization, while at the same time attempting to teach them how to use a computer in order to do all that (all in 6 months time)? I feel like there's never an end to this task. They have been learning so much on their own with regards to Excel and Word, but there's just so much to know. And when you haven't grown up with computers, it's all brand new to you. And when you don't have training or experience in the field, it seems to just take a little longer. So, these next few months will interesting. I have no idea how the "wrap-up" will turn out.
I've been brainstorming about what's to come following the end of July. While here in the summer I mentioned in my blog that I had an idea or a dream as to what I would do if I ever came back to Haiti (following August 2009). It seems to still be on my heart quite heavly. I would love to teach people how to use a computer and how to type properlly. The internet and computers are an amazing thing and I so wish that the community of Haut Limbe would be able to have the chance to get to know the rest of the world through the internet (and talk to family for free on Skype, or at least know that it's an option!). So, over the next couple of weeks I hope to have some conversations with a few people about the realities of this task. I would love any ideas or connections that people might have for me regarding this. How would we find and get laptops down here? Are there good programs to teach typing? Is there a foundation that does work like this already in Haiti that we could partner with? Any suggestions or contacts?
Monday, May 3
So about blogging...and life
I guess I'm somewhat bad at this keeping the blog updated thing. The truth is, I've been struggling with knowing how much to post and how much to keep private, and so I just haven't written anything. I want my struggles and joys to be shared, but it's hard to know that they'll be understood in the context properlly. Sorry about the lack of updating!
I'm here in Puerta Plata for 1 week on vacation with Janelle. We were given this as a gift and what a blessing it has been. The suspected culture shock is of course different than expected. When first arriving in the DR I realized how normal this life here is. How normal shopping is, eating at restaurants, taking a taxi or going somehwere when you want, walking at night, eating frozen yogurt, swimming in a pool, all of that. I miss this kind of life. Where things are easy. There's electricity, toilets that work, running water, internet, nicely constructed buildings, things to do and see. This world just seems normal to me. I understand it (although I don't understand the language). Life in Haiti is much different. My days repeat themselves, going 1 of 3 places repetitively. Sometimes we get out in the evening which is a nice change of scenary. That's been harder on me then I thought. I miss having a vehicle. Miss going to walk around a mall. Going for runs in different parks. Sitting in coffee shops. Going to school or work. All of those things.
I hadn't realized how hard things were back home in Haiti. Each day passes by and you make do. You find a way to stay busy and happy. You see that life is so much worse for others, which gives perspective. You see life in it's simplest and rawest forms most days. I love the people in Haiti. I love the people that I work with at the Clinic. The kids are amazing. The patients are resilient. The faith of all Haitians is so admirable and miraculous. There's so many difficulties about living in Haiti, and yet so many blessings. What a different life they live.
I've scheduled a visit home for the summer. I hope to return this fall to continue working and serving. I'm not sure in what capacity but hope to figure that out in the next few weeks. My job at the clinic officially finishes at the end of July and my plane arrives in Winnipeg on August 6th. I look forward to seeing friends and family again. Many of those I never got a chance to say goodbye to.
So while Janelle and I are here on vacation, we are enjoying the sun, laying on air matresses in the pool, wireless internet, television, a jacuzzi tub, amazing food, and I'm enjoying the "easiness" of life. Somehow, things just work and how refreshing it is. (We both commented on how nice it is to flush the toilet and have it work EVERY time! That's just one example...)
Here's a picture of us before going out to our supper off-site on Sunday.
I'm here in Puerta Plata for 1 week on vacation with Janelle. We were given this as a gift and what a blessing it has been. The suspected culture shock is of course different than expected. When first arriving in the DR I realized how normal this life here is. How normal shopping is, eating at restaurants, taking a taxi or going somehwere when you want, walking at night, eating frozen yogurt, swimming in a pool, all of that. I miss this kind of life. Where things are easy. There's electricity, toilets that work, running water, internet, nicely constructed buildings, things to do and see. This world just seems normal to me. I understand it (although I don't understand the language). Life in Haiti is much different. My days repeat themselves, going 1 of 3 places repetitively. Sometimes we get out in the evening which is a nice change of scenary. That's been harder on me then I thought. I miss having a vehicle. Miss going to walk around a mall. Going for runs in different parks. Sitting in coffee shops. Going to school or work. All of those things.
I hadn't realized how hard things were back home in Haiti. Each day passes by and you make do. You find a way to stay busy and happy. You see that life is so much worse for others, which gives perspective. You see life in it's simplest and rawest forms most days. I love the people in Haiti. I love the people that I work with at the Clinic. The kids are amazing. The patients are resilient. The faith of all Haitians is so admirable and miraculous. There's so many difficulties about living in Haiti, and yet so many blessings. What a different life they live.
I've scheduled a visit home for the summer. I hope to return this fall to continue working and serving. I'm not sure in what capacity but hope to figure that out in the next few weeks. My job at the clinic officially finishes at the end of July and my plane arrives in Winnipeg on August 6th. I look forward to seeing friends and family again. Many of those I never got a chance to say goodbye to.
So while Janelle and I are here on vacation, we are enjoying the sun, laying on air matresses in the pool, wireless internet, television, a jacuzzi tub, amazing food, and I'm enjoying the "easiness" of life. Somehow, things just work and how refreshing it is. (We both commented on how nice it is to flush the toilet and have it work EVERY time! That's just one example...)
Here's a picture of us before going out to our supper off-site on Sunday.
Friday, April 2
Rainy days
Wednesday night it began to rain. Most evenings just after supper this happens but it doesn't usually last. This time it did. All evening, all night. It poured! We woke up and it was still raining. This resulted in rivers on the roads. Fun to walk through. The clinic was closed yesterday because of the rain so the day was spent lounging around, studying, watching a movie, talking etc. I was all ready to get to work today, arrived at the clinic gate and again, no one was there. What!? Did that crazy lady that sells candy tell the patients the clinic is closed again - even when it isn't supposed to be!? Oh no, it's a holiday today. I did remember this morning that it's Good Friday but didn't connect that with not working. I guess that makes sense. It just seems like there's no real order or way of knowing the holidays here and any of the systems. The girls didn't have school yesterday because it was the first of April. Huh. Doesn't make much sense to me! Regardless, it will be a 4 day weekend.
The group of 14 from Strathmore arrived this morning. We also have another guy staying with us. That makes for 17 white people in the house and all the Haitians out back. I am however very excited to see how much work they will be able to get done. I'm guessing the tiling will be done and hopefully the the supplies in the depot will be more accessible!
That's about all that's happening around here. Should be a busy weekend and week with the group and at work. We are working on the March summary report so will be able to compare now to February. Feels good to have some system in place. Slowly but surely.
The group of 14 from Strathmore arrived this morning. We also have another guy staying with us. That makes for 17 white people in the house and all the Haitians out back. I am however very excited to see how much work they will be able to get done. I'm guessing the tiling will be done and hopefully the the supplies in the depot will be more accessible!
That's about all that's happening around here. Should be a busy weekend and week with the group and at work. We are working on the March summary report so will be able to compare now to February. Feels good to have some system in place. Slowly but surely.
Tuesday, March 30
Fun adventures and random thoughts
Sometimes I get the antsy feeling of just needing to get out of Haut Limbe. There are days that I haven't left and have visited about 3 or 4 buildings in total. It gets repetitive and draining. Last week Janelle and I went into Cap with a couple friends. Bought some great sandwiches, cold juice with ice, walked along the "boardwalk", and we found some delicious ice cream. On the drive home through Cap we drove past a cinema, we both couldn't believe our eyes. A movie theatre in Cap! I'm beginning to get curious as to what other things we don't know about. It was a good evening being out of town and changing up the routine. We also took some medication to another small clinic we are connected with on Friday and enjoyed a few hours at a beach near by afterwards. These times of escaping seem to be what keep sane sometimes. It is hard to be intentional about taking care of myself here amongst all that is going on, but I'm slowly figuring out how to do that better. The last week and a half I've had my head crammed in my statistics textbook, writing quizzes, and preparing for my final exam. Although this has been such a burden and has taken so much out of me, it's been a good distraction and way to bring me back to some sort of normalcy and familiarity.
Things continue to progress at the clinic. One day at a time. One task at a time. The hospital is really coming along. Most of the bathrooms are finished with tiling and most plumbing. The tiling is about 1/4 to 1/3 done for the rooms/hallways and we are waiting for the next group to arrive on Friday to work on that. The shelves are also finished for now in the depot so the supplies can begin to be organized and stored there. What a journey this has all been. I look forward to seeing how much will be accomplished with this group of 14 coming. What a blessing it is to receive visitors here.
I will have been here 2 months exactly on Thursday and can't even begin to figure out where those months went. So amongst the stress and craziness of this country and culture, I find blessings amidst it all. We are bird/house sitting tonight so will enjoy 24 hour internet, electricity, supper made by us, a shower that's a bit warmer, and ice to put in our drinks! :) It truly is the little things here that make a difference.
In other sad news, the lady that cooks for us (Malene) found out that she has glaucoma. She went to the hospital yesterday and brought us back the news. I'm not sure exactly what that all means and what they all told her but through this I've felt our relationship get stronger. People seem more comfortable around me, can communicate with me and it seems are beginning to see I'm not much different then them (to some very small degree of course...). It's beginning to feel just a little bit more like home here.
Things continue to progress at the clinic. One day at a time. One task at a time. The hospital is really coming along. Most of the bathrooms are finished with tiling and most plumbing. The tiling is about 1/4 to 1/3 done for the rooms/hallways and we are waiting for the next group to arrive on Friday to work on that. The shelves are also finished for now in the depot so the supplies can begin to be organized and stored there. What a journey this has all been. I look forward to seeing how much will be accomplished with this group of 14 coming. What a blessing it is to receive visitors here.
I will have been here 2 months exactly on Thursday and can't even begin to figure out where those months went. So amongst the stress and craziness of this country and culture, I find blessings amidst it all. We are bird/house sitting tonight so will enjoy 24 hour internet, electricity, supper made by us, a shower that's a bit warmer, and ice to put in our drinks! :) It truly is the little things here that make a difference.
In other sad news, the lady that cooks for us (Malene) found out that she has glaucoma. She went to the hospital yesterday and brought us back the news. I'm not sure exactly what that all means and what they all told her but through this I've felt our relationship get stronger. People seem more comfortable around me, can communicate with me and it seems are beginning to see I'm not much different then them (to some very small degree of course...). It's beginning to feel just a little bit more like home here.
Thursday, March 18
Update
- The group from Winnipeg has come and gone (the 2 nurses are still here until Monday). They finished tiling the pediatric room and are about 1/2 done the mens ward.
- The tiling in the washroom of the pediatric room is being worked on in between groups.
- Shelves have been built in the depot and are painted. The supplies will now need to be organized and put on the shelves.
- Plumbing is almost complete (or so I think).
- The clinic saw 217 patients on Monday (normal is 100). We had 18 people from the USA who brought medications and helped see patients. Never seen that place so packed. Our staff are tired.
- A successful trip to Port au Prince finished this weekend. They did a mobile clinic and handed out food packages which were prepared by the Winnipeg group consisting of rice, beans, sugar, oil etc.
- A website is being worked on for the clinic by a volunteer who is here this week. We look forward to having that up and running soon.
- Everything still takes a long time here. Everything seems so much more difficult. We pray for patience everyday and for a sense of humour.
- My eyes are opened everyday to real life here in Haiti. Illnesses. Death. Accidents. Hunger. Sorrow. Joy. Friendships. Lack of choice. Fear. Hope and hopelessness. Sometimes I wish I could keep my blinders on and not be exposed to so much, and yet I know that's not real.
- Relationships are most important here, above all else. Sometimes I forget that and make mistakes. I hate making mistakes.
- The last of our guests leave on Saturday and Monday. We will have just under 2 weeks to regroup and prepare for 14 to arrive. We are tired and continuing on. Life in Haiti...
Here's a song that describes me this week. I came across is on a blog I follow: http://livesayhaiti.blogspot.com/2007/11/long-defeat.html
- The tiling in the washroom of the pediatric room is being worked on in between groups.
- Shelves have been built in the depot and are painted. The supplies will now need to be organized and put on the shelves.
- Plumbing is almost complete (or so I think).
- The clinic saw 217 patients on Monday (normal is 100). We had 18 people from the USA who brought medications and helped see patients. Never seen that place so packed. Our staff are tired.
- A successful trip to Port au Prince finished this weekend. They did a mobile clinic and handed out food packages which were prepared by the Winnipeg group consisting of rice, beans, sugar, oil etc.
- A website is being worked on for the clinic by a volunteer who is here this week. We look forward to having that up and running soon.
- Everything still takes a long time here. Everything seems so much more difficult. We pray for patience everyday and for a sense of humour.
- My eyes are opened everyday to real life here in Haiti. Illnesses. Death. Accidents. Hunger. Sorrow. Joy. Friendships. Lack of choice. Fear. Hope and hopelessness. Sometimes I wish I could keep my blinders on and not be exposed to so much, and yet I know that's not real.
- Relationships are most important here, above all else. Sometimes I forget that and make mistakes. I hate making mistakes.
- The last of our guests leave on Saturday and Monday. We will have just under 2 weeks to regroup and prepare for 14 to arrive. We are tired and continuing on. Life in Haiti...
Here's a song that describes me this week. I came across is on a blog I follow: http://livesayhaiti.blogspot.com/2007/11/long-defeat.html
Monday, March 8
Enough for Today
While driving into Cap Haitien for supper with friends on Friday I was watching as everyone was finishing their days and making their ways home. Along the road in the city there were the ladies sitting, selling their goods. I noticed one lady with her few things to sell and saw a large can of tomato paste, containing maybe 4 litres, the tin lid still partly attached to protect from bugs and dust from day to day. Another women came by to buy some and she was given 3 little scrapes (about 3 teaspoons) of paste on a small piece of paper. This was sold for 5 Gourdes (approximately 8 cents). This woman buying the paste purchases only what she needs for today. As I saw this I thought of the fridges full of food all over the world and thought of my friends, neighbours, my community, and this country, and all those who don’t eat for a few days at a time. I know when my next meal with be, so many do not. May we all recognize that we only need enough for today.
Wednesday, March 3
Normal
Life here is pretty normal. I don't really know what to write about because of that. No real inspiration. Groups have come and gone. Random people joining us and leaving us. It's fun to see this community and culture through their eyes. Reminders of the realities. Here's a bit of a glimpse into my everyday life here.
Wake up at 7am. Get dressed and do very little in way of preparing myself for the day.
Eat breakfast
Head to the clinic around 8am. Stand around and talk for awhile (relationships first!)
Head up to the office. Work on expenses, income, new forms/systems, maybe take a trip to the bank etc.
Head home for lunch.
Back to the office.
Check emails quickly and chat with friends.
Head back to shower and get a "pick me up".
Maybe read or write a bit in my journal.
Eat supper.
Head down to the corner and sit there for the evening. Hang out with friends. Maybe watch a movie if there's electricity.
Bed around 10 or 11pm.
Start all over again the next day!
We take a trip to Cap (25 kms, about a 1 hour drive) about once a week. That's a good outing. There are also lots of other surprises and crazy encounters along the way.
Work has been challenging and encouraging all around. Baby steps. Everyday we get a little further.
After driving through Cap Haitien on Sunday and Limbe on Monday I realized there is a lot more trash piles all over, places there wasn't before. The hope for this country is nonexistent at times. I have little faith that much will change over the years, and it seems the feeling is pretty common with many people here. And yet they and I continue on, trying to better our little piece. Hoping somehow that it will make a difference. Who knows.
A group from Winnipeg is coming next week which means my parents could send some things I had forgotten or misjudged in packing over a 1 week period. I will be happy to receive more shirts and tank tops as I only brought enough for a few days of sun and a few days of rain intermixed. Apparently the weather here doesn't work like that! It will be good to see familiar faces and hang out with good friends.
Life goes on. I've been getting a little sick over the last few days. I'm trying to rest lots to try and prevent a full on head cold.
I'll try to update more often. Sorry!
The hospital construction is coming along. The plumbing is started and will continue after the tiling gets going. The group from Winnipeg will start on that next week. Lots of work still left and lots of miscommunication with coordinating all that.
Would love to hear from you all. Miss everyone back home and think of you often!
Wake up at 7am. Get dressed and do very little in way of preparing myself for the day.
Eat breakfast
Head to the clinic around 8am. Stand around and talk for awhile (relationships first!)
Head up to the office. Work on expenses, income, new forms/systems, maybe take a trip to the bank etc.
Head home for lunch.
Back to the office.
Check emails quickly and chat with friends.
Head back to shower and get a "pick me up".
Maybe read or write a bit in my journal.
Eat supper.
Head down to the corner and sit there for the evening. Hang out with friends. Maybe watch a movie if there's electricity.
Bed around 10 or 11pm.
Start all over again the next day!
We take a trip to Cap (25 kms, about a 1 hour drive) about once a week. That's a good outing. There are also lots of other surprises and crazy encounters along the way.
Work has been challenging and encouraging all around. Baby steps. Everyday we get a little further.
After driving through Cap Haitien on Sunday and Limbe on Monday I realized there is a lot more trash piles all over, places there wasn't before. The hope for this country is nonexistent at times. I have little faith that much will change over the years, and it seems the feeling is pretty common with many people here. And yet they and I continue on, trying to better our little piece. Hoping somehow that it will make a difference. Who knows.
A group from Winnipeg is coming next week which means my parents could send some things I had forgotten or misjudged in packing over a 1 week period. I will be happy to receive more shirts and tank tops as I only brought enough for a few days of sun and a few days of rain intermixed. Apparently the weather here doesn't work like that! It will be good to see familiar faces and hang out with good friends.
Life goes on. I've been getting a little sick over the last few days. I'm trying to rest lots to try and prevent a full on head cold.
I'll try to update more often. Sorry!
The hospital construction is coming along. The plumbing is started and will continue after the tiling gets going. The group from Winnipeg will start on that next week. Lots of work still left and lots of miscommunication with coordinating all that.
Would love to hear from you all. Miss everyone back home and think of you often!
Tuesday, February 16
Port au Prince
Our first guests have arrived, my boss and his wife. They got here safely and their bags were found after a short time of searching and waiting. Typical for Haiti. Saturday morning myself, Dr. Manno, Jeff and Darlene headed off to Port au Prince. I hadn’t been looking forward to the trip the week leading up to it and was hoping that it would be cancelled as the connections weren’t confirmed until late Friday afternoon.
The drive there was long and somewhat painful. I didn’t realize the first couple hours would be around the mountains with lots of potholes. The potholes I was expecting, the weaving and mountain driving I was not. Thankfully my “parents” had grabbed the AirCanada puke bags on their journey down and allowed me to use one. So gross. The rest of the trip was more enjoyable. Good conversations, different landscape and much to see. What caught me along the way was one portion of the road that was all gravel and rocks. The mountains were bare. There were no trees. It looked like they hadn’t gotten rain for years. All the cacti and other things along the road were grey. Everything looked dead, no life there. I didn’t see any vegetable gardens, no rice fields, nothing. I have no idea what those people in the community lived on. It was the picture of lifelessness. Barren. Death.
When we arrived in Port Manno picked up an old school friend who worked at the national palace who would help us navigate around to find our meetings and our place to stay. We saw some of the devastation along the way but nothing was setting in. We stayed with a pastor along with some other guests. We had planned to sleep together in a tent outside with a sheet we’d brought after eating only breakfast and granola bars along the way, but this family opened their home and their food to us. I felt truly blessed to be there. Lying in bed I imagined the ceiling coming down on me. Why was this house still standing? Why is this family still alive? The people outside who are singing and talking and sleeping, who have they lost? Where will they get food? How will find anything to sell? Where will they go? What is their future?
The next morning we drove downtown to see the national palace and more of the city. The streets were empty. Buildings were collapsed among buildings still standing. People were still trying to sell things on the street. Riding motorcycles to their destinations. Washing their clothes. Cooking food on a small flame. This sense of normalcy among the devastation was paralyzing. The streets. Empty. Thousands and thousands dead. What should have been streets filled with people, life, was filled with nothing. It took us no time to get through downtown Port. We were told it should have taken 2-3 hours. We attempted to get a tour of the national palace thanks to our new friend Max who was along for the ride, but were unable to as it was Sunday morning and the individuals who handed out the visitor passes was not there. Parked behind the palace in the restricted area we saw the US soldiers bathing under a hose that was rigged up over what looked like an old swing set.
A man approached Max while we were waiting and all he was asking for was water. He was in the palace when it collapsed and escaped. His house was demolished. And all he asked for was water. We gave him a bottle and he was satisfied. 1 bottle of water. And yet behind him a ways over were stacks of boxes of water for the soldiers. He has nothing, and all asked for was water.
The pictures and my stories don’t begin to explain the situation. No amount of pictures that I looked at prior to my returning to Haiti or watching of CNN for hours at a time will ever give you the understanding of this cities state. There is nothing. No hope. We saw trucks and a few machines there to remove the rubble, but where do you put it? How do you clean up an entire city? Where do people go? What will people do? Many have fled to other communities where friends or family live. Others apply for jobs in the DR and relocate their family. Other apply for the USA or Canada to start a new life. Max will try to get his family to Canada. A man who is in charge of communication at the national palace isn’t even taken care of. A government employee now has no job and no money. This is someone who you would think would be taken care of. And yet he didn’t have money to buy propane. I didn’t find this out until we returned home.
The Eben-Ezer Clinic will bring aid down there every second weekend for the next 3 months. There is a small community of people that have gathered in an enclosed yard. There are approximately 500 families living in this tiny compound. We brought a few big bags of rice, some Reliv (nutritional powdered drinks), a few tents and tarps. It was only a test to see how safe it would be. Thankfully we had Max with us (and his hidden gun) and everything went off smoothly. Many from the clinic and this community will return to do a mobile clinic and distribute food, clothes, and other supplies. This is only a small community and a small thing, but it’s what this Haitian community in Haut Limbé is capable of doing. And so it’s Haitians helping Haitians.
I wish I could take away all the pain here. I wish I could erase so much of the past. I wish I could change their future. So many have no hope for their country. They know their history. They know their government. They know their people. Every day I ask myself what I am doing here. Every day I’m reminded of the answer. There are people that are sick that need medication. There are people that are hungry that need food. There are people that have no houses, or have houses but are to traumatized to return to them. People without parents. Parents without kids. Darkness without hope. A past with no future. There is so much pain and suffering here, even amongst the smiling faces. Everyone has a story. A story of struggle and pain and heartache. What are we doing to help?
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