I have arrived in Haiti! The new chapter of my life has begun and it's a book that I never want to stop turning the pages of. I wasn't sure how I would feel coming to Haiti without a return date. Would I be anxious or feel trapped? Would I be able to handle life in Haiti knowing that it wasn't going to change anytime soon?
The moments leading up to this trip and even my journey here has been peaceful beyond what I can comprehend. My flights from Minnesota to Haiti kept me in great company. A gentleman I sat next to on the plane from Minneapolis to Florida offered to pay for me to go to the Admiral's Club during my 3 hour layover in Miami. It was a nice and unexpected gift.
I am one of those annoying travelers.. I absolutley love talking to the people I sit with. I did not sleep, I only talked... for 3 hours to MIA and then another 2 hours to Haiti. I love hearing stories, destinations, how each person ended up in the seat next to me and where they are headed now.
When I arrived in Haiti it was dark. I paid a Haitian at the airport to help me with my bags. I had 3 huge suitcases weighing 70 lbs a piece. Usually I am strong-willed and independent and will not let anyone touch my bags, because that means I have to pay them( yes I'm cheap). This time I decided I would love some help and would tip generously. I can't say my Haitian helper was the greatest at locating my bags. I ended up hauling each of them to my cart, but he helped me the rest of the way out of the airport. Shirley was waiting for me right outside the airport. She had flirted her way into an area that only the travelers can enter, so she met me a lot sooner than I expected!
We went home to Shirley's place in PAP. There were signs welcoming me into the country and a huge cake that she had bought to celebrate my arrival. It was a wonderful welcomming!
I have been in Haiti just shy of a week now. Day 1- arrived home late and slept. Day 2- Sunday. Church, cleaning and decorated Shirley's house for Christmas. Day 3- Drove to Leogane at 5am. Spent the entire day at the orphanage while Shirley was at work. Day 4- Pediatric health fair at FSIL nursing school in Leogane. Day 5- running around like a madwoman through the Haitian markets because apparently I need to wear a red or green dress for the party they are having at the school on day 6(today!)
Ok, so that is the general summary. Now some more details. My greatest struggle so far was the pediatric health fair. It was set up at the nursing school. Over 300 children from the community came for health care, a bath, a new hairdo, and a present for Christmas. I asked Shirley how I could help and she said I could do whatever I wanted to. I wanted to give the babies and kids their baths. I mean, I don't speak the language too much, and I love bathtime, so it seemed like a perfect fit for me. Just as I was about to start with the baths, Shirley came after me and said that the dean of the nursing school needed me to see the pediatric patients instead. Oh sheesh, I better put on my thinking cap! With the first patient I had a minor freak-out moment. There was no doctor. None of them showed up. So it was a bunch of student nurses and a few that had graduated. Here I was, with a sophomore nursing student who spoke minimal English as my translator, my colleague; the nurse who I would bounce ideas off of. I almost walked away. I felt so inadequate and un-equipped. How on earth was I supposed to evaluate and prescribe for the kids? I couldn't walk away. Maybe I was too afraid of what the Haitians would think if I, one of the only nurses, walked away and said I couldn't help. So I took a deep breath and did my best. I saw ear infections, colds, coughs, scabies, upset stomachs, gave malaria tests, treated UTIs... and the list went on. Luckily, I had a drug guide, another american nurse and a few Haitian nurses closeby to bounce ideas off of. By the middle of the day, I felt much more comfortable. I realized that most of the things I was seeing, I really did know how to help, and the things I didn't know how to help, I could tell them where to go for help. I saw patients all day. I realized at about 4pm that I hadn't eaten all day and had barely drank anything. I was exhuasted. At night I went to a restaurant with another American, Rhyan. She lives here and runs an organization called Espwa Berlancia. She has a heart for children who are HIV +. We ate dinner together and shared our Haiti stories and our passions. She is 26 and from Minnesota. She rents a place here for her organization. She has 2 Haitian babies she is in the process of adopting. They came out to dinner with us. Gup is 2 years old and Annabelle is 5 weeks old. We ate a BIG meal. It was so good and the restaraunt was adorable! The floor was a nice, soft sand, and it was very cabana- like inside. Cute lights, all wood, and a Haitian staff. We had soup, pasta with Shrimp, and even a little fruit dessert! That night I took baby duty so that Rhyan could finally get a full night of sleep. I woke up a few times during the night with Annabelle to feed her, change her and rock her back to sleep. It was a sweet night for me :)
Okay, I have to explain my Haitian shopping experience. I must give my story some justice! The dean of the nursing school invited me to their Christmas party.. but I needed to wear a red or green dress. So... off to the market I went with some friends. First we went into actual stores. They had dresses that looked like 90's style bridesmaid dresses. The other options were slinky and had open backs or were short and tight. Neither were the look I was going for. I would try on dressesin the back of the store, and wander into the next-door beauty salon to look into the mirror. I was so embarassed! I didn't like any of my options and I felt so picky and stuck-up, but really, I was just self conscious and wanted to wear a dress that I felt confident in. The next stop was the "mache" the Haitian market. It is like a giant garage sale with used clothes from the USA. I found a really pretty dress and started trying it on (in the middle of the market!). The lady selling it was trying to shove me in. It was clearly too small. I couldn't even get it over my shoulders. But she was determined and pulling my arms and pushing my head through. It was traumatic for me! I was begging her to stop but she would not listen.She really wanted to make the sale. Talk about clausterphobia!! Ah. A nightmare. My Haitian friends stepped in and told her she needed to stop and that I did not want the dress. A few little shacks later, I found a dress that would fit. It is one shoulder, long, and has some sparkles near the top. I'm still a little uncomfortable in it beacuse it is something I would never choose in the USA. BUT.. while in Haiti, do like the Haitians do. I'll post pictures after tonight. I have a great farmers burn to go with the red dress. I forgot to wear sunscreen yesterday and I'm burnt to a crisp on my chest, shoulders and back. Still have a pale face. Go figure.
Am I talking too much? Just one more thing.. I LOVE the orphanage! I mean, I always knew that, but I'm realizing that it is the highlight of each of my days. My favorite room is a little wood cabin that houses the toddlers. It walk up to the door and the kids run to me, stick their arms out to me and call out "mama!" How do I choose which cute little stinker to pick up? They are all so adorable! And generally speaking, really content babies. They have "graduated" from the baby room, although many of them cannot walk yet and are just under a year old. This is the cute part, because they are treated a little bit like big kids. They go on scheduled walks during the way and toddle around on the wood walkways, stumbling and wandering in other directions along the way. Baby Ben is no longer so tiny. He stayed in my tent the summer of 2010. He was really sick with high fevers and was very small for his age. He would sleep with me and I'd take care of him in the middle of the nights. Often times I would have to give him baths in the middle of the night to cool him down. Now he is over a year old and can walk. He has a special place in my heart. He doesn't know why I love him so much, but that is okay!
Haiti is such a blessing to me. I had been anxious and obsessed with time for the past couple of years. I was depressed and angry at times. I could never put my finger on when it was I started having such anxiety. I knew it started sometime in college but I didn't know why. I could look back on my life prior to college and remember never really dealing with these issues. Well, it's gone. Maybe I'm in a honeymoon place, but this is exactly where I want to be. Every morning I wake up and say, "Thank you Jesus for bringing me here." I come home at the end of the day with my feet black with dirt, twigs stuck in my hair and I take a shower with a bucket of water that I pulled up from the well. I use the toilet and have to dump water into the toliet to flush it. Last night I fell asleep with one baby mouse running around under my bed, and many others who were stuck to the glue trap and squealing their way to death. I guess I was programmed for Haiti. I love the simplicity of life here. I'm learning the language more. The dean, Hilda, says I am a white Haitian. :)
A view from a roof in Port au Prince
12.22.2011
11.08.2011
It mattered to this starfish
Ever heard the parable of the starfish? I'm sure most are familiar of this, but as a friendly reminder, here it goes.
One day an old man was walking along the beach. It was low tide and the sand was littered with thousands of stranded starfish. The man started to walk very carefully so as not to step on any of the beautiful creatures. Since the animals still seemed to be alive, he considered picking some of them up and putting them back in the water. The man knew the starfish would die if left on the beach’s dry sand but he reasoned that he could not possibly help them all, so he chose to do nothing and continued walking.
Soon afterward, he came upon a small child on the beach who was frantically throwing one starfish after another into the sea. The old man stopped and asked the child “what are you doing?”
The child replied “I am saving starfish.”
“Why waste your time? There are so many you can’t save them all so what does it matter” argued the old man.
Without hesitation, the child picked up another starfish and tossed the starfish back into the water. “It matters to this one…” the child explained.
Who is the starfish in your life? What challenge are you working on that you know is important, but at times you feel like laying down in the midst of all the starfish, in a surrender to the endless work? As I think of the story of the starfish, I think of one of the most beautiful example of the little starfish I helped toss back into the water... I helped save his life. His name is Jethroson. I met Jethro over two years ago. I was in Haiti with Gretchen. It was our first trip to Haiti without a group. I was 21 years old and Gretchen was 23. We were staying with Jasmine at Operation Love the Children of Haiti orphanage in Leogane. We had both recently read the book, Angels of a Lower Flight by Susan Scott Krabacher. In it she risks her life to experience the worst slum in Haiti, Cite Soleil . Although her stories terrified me, they also motivated me. How could I know Haiti without knowing Cite Soleil? Why should I be spared the horror of what thousands see as their every day life? Gretchen and I both really wanted to see Cite Soleil, but we had a problem- there was not one Haitian that was willing to risk the danger to visit this slum. That gave us an even better idea of what a horrible place we were trying to visit. Yet, it didn't deter us. Jasmine agreed to bring us, under the term that we go with the chief of police in an escorted vehicle. Fine. As long as we could go. As long as we could uncover our eyes and see the worst parts of Haiti.
Cite Soleil is a horrible place. It is hopeless. It is trash upon trash, and then children walking barefoot all over it. It is some type of feces sliding in between my bare heal and flip flops as I walked. It is filthy pigs, naked children, gangs, trash floating in the ocean next to kids taking their "bath", children and no parents, it is abuse, infection, homelessness, despair. That is cite soleil. Cite Soleil is walking down narrow rows of huts, fearful that someone may pull me in and I'll never make it out. It is adults pushing and hitting kids over a piece of candy that we were handing out. It is Jethroson with his burned hand, standing naked and alone, tear drops staining his cheeks.
Jethroson is the starfish I choose to remember today. He is a story of hope. He matters. His life matters. His baby hand matters. We found Jethroson standing in a crowd of people. My eyes were drawn to him immediately. He stood out, even in a crowd. He was very sad, and was holding out his limp, blackened hand. We trudged through the crowd to find out why this boy was naked, alone and crying. His hand was swollen and black- crusted and obviously infected. He looked scared and angry, on top of his sadness. We asked where his mother was. No one knew the answer. There was no one responsible for him. He was only 3 years old. We asked what happened to his hand. The neighbors told us that he was abused. He was misbehaving and his mother burned him. To try cover it up, or perhaps protect the wound, she poured tar over his hand. I don't fully understand the reasoning. I can add it to the list of things I don't understand in Haiti. We told his neighbors that we needed to take him to the orphange and take care of his hand. We promised to bring Jethroson back when his hand was better. No one objected. And so we traveled back to Leogane in the truck, but this time with a naked boy sprawled across me and Gretchen. He was tired and slept most of the 2 hours back to Leogane.On the way back, we stopped at a pharmacy and bought needles, a syringe, and an intramusular antibiotic. We also stopped for ice cream and Jethroson tried this sweet treat for the first time in his life. Still no smiles, but he ate every last bit.
When we arrived back to the orphanage, we bathed Jethro and put him in clean clothes. We soaked his hand and began removing some of the tar. He screamed and cried. Some of his hand had lost feeling, but there was still plenty where he has sensation. We gave him his shot of antibiotic. He was scared of us. He couldn't understand why we were causing him pain. We had to stop. Tylenol wasn't enough to cover the pain he was experiencing. And truth be told, we didn't feel qualified to be taking care of this wound. We covered it in antiobiotic ointment and bandaged it up. Jethroson calmed down and we gave him a big, hot meal for dinner. He ate and ate, and then was ready to sleep. Gretchen and I pulled a mini mattress into our room so that we could closely monitor him. I asked him if he was scared and he said yes. I asked him if he missed his mom and he said yes. I asked him if he wanted to go home, and he said no. A three year pulled away from all he has ever known, and taken by strangers and he didn't want to go home. He knew the life he had that one night- even if it included the painful wound care- was better than anything he had experienced in his short life. We said goodnight and turned off the lights. In his squeaky little voice he babbled something. He sounded very alarmed. Turned out this little 3 year old was telling us " turn on the F-ing lights." Except he was actually swearing at us. It alarmed us, and was actually pretty funny, but how terrible that a 3 year old could even know those words. It shows what environment he had grown up in.
Jethro eventually warmed up. He didn't want to go home. He explained that he wasn't listening to his mom and that is why she burned him. He also had whip marks on his legs and backs. He couldn't go home. It wasn't safe for him. We involved the Haitian police and the orphanage got custody over him. Jethroson had a hard adjustment to the orphanage. He stole and fought and was disobedient. He would take toys and hide them in his bed. He had never had toys and was afraid he would never have them again. He wanted to keep them safe. Can you blame him? His behavior was so unruly, Jasmine was not sure if he would be able to stay at the orphanage. But in due time, Jethro turned around.
Now, Jethro is one of the cutest boys I have ever seen. He is shy and sweet. When I give him a big smile or say his name, he sheepishly smiles and brings his head close to his shoulder. He is strong and healthy and is growing at an unbelievable rate. He plays well with the other boys and he is fun to be around. He still has his squeaky high-pitched voice :) Jethro is my starfish.
One day an old man was walking along the beach. It was low tide and the sand was littered with thousands of stranded starfish. The man started to walk very carefully so as not to step on any of the beautiful creatures. Since the animals still seemed to be alive, he considered picking some of them up and putting them back in the water. The man knew the starfish would die if left on the beach’s dry sand but he reasoned that he could not possibly help them all, so he chose to do nothing and continued walking.
Soon afterward, he came upon a small child on the beach who was frantically throwing one starfish after another into the sea. The old man stopped and asked the child “what are you doing?”
The child replied “I am saving starfish.”
“Why waste your time? There are so many you can’t save them all so what does it matter” argued the old man.
Without hesitation, the child picked up another starfish and tossed the starfish back into the water. “It matters to this one…” the child explained.
Who is the starfish in your life? What challenge are you working on that you know is important, but at times you feel like laying down in the midst of all the starfish, in a surrender to the endless work? As I think of the story of the starfish, I think of one of the most beautiful example of the little starfish I helped toss back into the water... I helped save his life. His name is Jethroson. I met Jethro over two years ago. I was in Haiti with Gretchen. It was our first trip to Haiti without a group. I was 21 years old and Gretchen was 23. We were staying with Jasmine at Operation Love the Children of Haiti orphanage in Leogane. We had both recently read the book, Angels of a Lower Flight by Susan Scott Krabacher. In it she risks her life to experience the worst slum in Haiti, Cite Soleil . Although her stories terrified me, they also motivated me. How could I know Haiti without knowing Cite Soleil? Why should I be spared the horror of what thousands see as their every day life? Gretchen and I both really wanted to see Cite Soleil, but we had a problem- there was not one Haitian that was willing to risk the danger to visit this slum. That gave us an even better idea of what a horrible place we were trying to visit. Yet, it didn't deter us. Jasmine agreed to bring us, under the term that we go with the chief of police in an escorted vehicle. Fine. As long as we could go. As long as we could uncover our eyes and see the worst parts of Haiti.
Cite Soleil is a horrible place. It is hopeless. It is trash upon trash, and then children walking barefoot all over it. It is some type of feces sliding in between my bare heal and flip flops as I walked. It is filthy pigs, naked children, gangs, trash floating in the ocean next to kids taking their "bath", children and no parents, it is abuse, infection, homelessness, despair. That is cite soleil. Cite Soleil is walking down narrow rows of huts, fearful that someone may pull me in and I'll never make it out. It is adults pushing and hitting kids over a piece of candy that we were handing out. It is Jethroson with his burned hand, standing naked and alone, tear drops staining his cheeks.
Jethroson is the starfish I choose to remember today. He is a story of hope. He matters. His life matters. His baby hand matters. We found Jethroson standing in a crowd of people. My eyes were drawn to him immediately. He stood out, even in a crowd. He was very sad, and was holding out his limp, blackened hand. We trudged through the crowd to find out why this boy was naked, alone and crying. His hand was swollen and black- crusted and obviously infected. He looked scared and angry, on top of his sadness. We asked where his mother was. No one knew the answer. There was no one responsible for him. He was only 3 years old. We asked what happened to his hand. The neighbors told us that he was abused. He was misbehaving and his mother burned him. To try cover it up, or perhaps protect the wound, she poured tar over his hand. I don't fully understand the reasoning. I can add it to the list of things I don't understand in Haiti. We told his neighbors that we needed to take him to the orphange and take care of his hand. We promised to bring Jethroson back when his hand was better. No one objected. And so we traveled back to Leogane in the truck, but this time with a naked boy sprawled across me and Gretchen. He was tired and slept most of the 2 hours back to Leogane.On the way back, we stopped at a pharmacy and bought needles, a syringe, and an intramusular antibiotic. We also stopped for ice cream and Jethroson tried this sweet treat for the first time in his life. Still no smiles, but he ate every last bit.
When we arrived back to the orphanage, we bathed Jethro and put him in clean clothes. We soaked his hand and began removing some of the tar. He screamed and cried. Some of his hand had lost feeling, but there was still plenty where he has sensation. We gave him his shot of antibiotic. He was scared of us. He couldn't understand why we were causing him pain. We had to stop. Tylenol wasn't enough to cover the pain he was experiencing. And truth be told, we didn't feel qualified to be taking care of this wound. We covered it in antiobiotic ointment and bandaged it up. Jethroson calmed down and we gave him a big, hot meal for dinner. He ate and ate, and then was ready to sleep. Gretchen and I pulled a mini mattress into our room so that we could closely monitor him. I asked him if he was scared and he said yes. I asked him if he missed his mom and he said yes. I asked him if he wanted to go home, and he said no. A three year pulled away from all he has ever known, and taken by strangers and he didn't want to go home. He knew the life he had that one night- even if it included the painful wound care- was better than anything he had experienced in his short life. We said goodnight and turned off the lights. In his squeaky little voice he babbled something. He sounded very alarmed. Turned out this little 3 year old was telling us " turn on the F-ing lights." Except he was actually swearing at us. It alarmed us, and was actually pretty funny, but how terrible that a 3 year old could even know those words. It shows what environment he had grown up in.
Jethro eventually warmed up. He didn't want to go home. He explained that he wasn't listening to his mom and that is why she burned him. He also had whip marks on his legs and backs. He couldn't go home. It wasn't safe for him. We involved the Haitian police and the orphanage got custody over him. Jethroson had a hard adjustment to the orphanage. He stole and fought and was disobedient. He would take toys and hide them in his bed. He had never had toys and was afraid he would never have them again. He wanted to keep them safe. Can you blame him? His behavior was so unruly, Jasmine was not sure if he would be able to stay at the orphanage. But in due time, Jethro turned around.
Now, Jethro is one of the cutest boys I have ever seen. He is shy and sweet. When I give him a big smile or say his name, he sheepishly smiles and brings his head close to his shoulder. He is strong and healthy and is growing at an unbelievable rate. He plays well with the other boys and he is fun to be around. He still has his squeaky high-pitched voice :) Jethro is my starfish.
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