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.
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