Great news yesterday, the little girl in oncology’s father came!! I still haven’t been up to see her and her father yet, but I brought some puzzles back from the warehouse today to take to oncology, so I’ll definitely go tomorrow. I went the day before her father got here and it was so sweet because one of the older boys was so happy to see me. Every time I’ve tried to talk with him, he’s totally plugged in to Ivy’s i-pad, so I thought he barely noticed I was there, but he gave me a huge hug and told me he was very happy to see me which was so rewarding to hear.

I had a very busy morning, filled with visitors taking supplies for their various projects. It feels so great to have volunteers and employees come in to find the supplies that they’ve needed and be able to give it to them. Even though I can’t take credit for getting a single donation in that warehouse, it’s so nice to be the one that says, “yes, you can have that” and they respond, “oh this is like Christmas!”

I also (finally) met the medical director of St. Luke Hospital and she is fabulous!! She is everything that this organization needs plus more, and I can already tell that she and I are going to work very well together. Almost all of her suggestions to me were things I hoped to accomplish but just needed the go ahead, and a couple of ideas I hadn’t thought of, but instantly realized how well they fit into her needs, as well as the needs of the other programs we supply.

We had a fabulous girl’s night at Caribe Lodge and I ate some delicious fish that was absolutely worth the US price. The lightening was beautiful as we drove home and even lit up my path walking back from the car. But the first big roll of thunder made me think- bomb- then earthquake, it was such a full, low sound. Now the sound is clapping like its back in the sky where it belongs.

I’m back at home thinking about programs that we have to close because of budget issues. Thinking about 400 children that will not be going to school. Thinking about good people that will no longer have a job. Thinking about my time in the fundraising office, when raising money was a gift, not a need. I have so much respect for the people who work to raise money, because I know exactly how hard it is, and without them we would be nothing. I want to say that I wish I knew then what I know now… but here’s the reality: I wouldn’t have done anything differently. I was a college student, with a job, with a leadership role and helping this organization was a hobby. I still remember, towards the end of my time volunteering, when Father Rick said something much more eloquently than I’d ever be able to repeat. But the message was so simple- if this was your neighbor, you would never let this happen. If you see a picture of a child running down a street filled with garbage in tattered clothes, you think “oh ya, that’s Haiti.” But if you see with your own eyes, that same child, you know that it’s the middle of the day and that child doesn’t go to school. What if your best childhood friend, the one you played with every day after school, didn’t GO to school because their parents didn’t have the money to send them? When you see that child with your own eyes, you know he’s being taught to throw his garbage into the street. When you see his tattered clothes, with your own eyes, you want to cry because you know how important personal appearance is in Haiti and either someone doesn’t care about him enough to take care of him or they don’t have enough money to do it. And you’re not sure which is the greater tragedy.

Pictures!

I still don't have my camera cord (but I'm taking pictures!) These pictures are courtesy of Matt, a volunteer who came last month.

entrance to St. Luc and St. Philomene

St. Luke Hospital with ambulance



entrance to St. Philomene ER/ICU

St. Philomene Cholera Treatment Center

what the hospital used to be- currently being torn down

old Radiology "department"

St. Damien entrance

part of St. Damien campus- from left to right- water tower, our offices, outpatient clinic, maternity cage (aka truck), St. Luke admin building, chapel

St. Damien lawn art

I spy a pink flamingo

Yesterday I had a productive morning at work, then in the afternoon we went to Operation Blessing's warehouse and got to bring back a huge truckload of supplies for our hospitals and some little things for the children at FWAL. It was a lot of work, especially for a Friday afternoon, when we usually take it easy. I was super exhausted by the time I made it home, but of course I turned right around and went to the grocery store because you never pass up a trip to the grocery store. You can't be sure when the next offer will come around and then you're stuck eating nothing but bread rolls for three days straight. While we were at the store, we decided to get cupcakes for the kids in oncology... a little Friday evening celebration. The cupcakes had blue frosting so of course it was all over the floor, their hands and little faces. It was super cute and they were tons of fun to play with as usual.

cupcakes!

Paul

with Max and Didine

One of the little girls in oncology hasn't had her parents with her for a few months now. Her mom was pregnant with another child, and after she had her second baby at St. Damien's, she took the child home, saying that she would come back for her daughter in oncology in a week or two. After a few weeks passed with no one able to contact the mother, it became a social services case and they have been working to get her mother on the phone for some time now. It's becoming crucial to have the mother, because the child needs to go to the Dominican Republic to receive radiation. We need her birth certificate to get her a visa, the mother needs to fill out release paperwork and of course there is a little four year old girl living in a hospital without any family. One of our volunteers decided to see what she could do, and anticipating the mothers feelings, sent her an SMS saying that no one is angry with her and that if she needs it, we will send her money to get transportation to the hospital. And what do you know, shortly afterwards the volunteer got a phone call from the girl's parents, explaining their situation and that they will be down on Monday. It's amazing what $25 and a little compassion can accomplish. To me her parent's actions are a testament to what an incredibly powerful emotion guilt is. Of course no one at the hospital truly knows what the parents situation is like, but its too easy to look at the situation and call it negligent behavior. Its too easy to say that the parents couldn't deal with their daughters difficult treatment or that they gave up on her. Because when you put daddy on the phone with his little girl that he hasn't seen in months, he is in tears because he is so thankful to hear his daughters voice. He tells her that they're coming to see her next week and you hope more than anything that that's true. It's just a step, but it's a big step, in getting this hilarious, outgoing, sweet, talkative, boisterous, adorable girl the life that she deserves.

As we're leaving the oncology room, Ivy gets a call from a mother who is down in the ICU. Ivy spent a lot of time with this family when she took their little boy to the US to have heart surgery. I don't know the details, but NPFS flew him to a hospital in the US to patch up a hole that was in his heart. We went into the ICU and walked all the way back to the last bed where he was sitting with his mother. The eight year old boy is small-- too small, for an eight year old. His mother lays him down on the bed and points to his chest. His heart is beating so hard underneath his little white wife beater. You can see it pounding in his chest and it is going much too fast. You don't have to be a doctor to figure out that the surgery didn't take. As I make this realization, it's hard to look at the boy and his mother, so I look up... and see 15 other children with their mothers, all of whom must be in similar situations. It's not that seeing sick Haitian children is any more devestating than sick children anywhere, but to know and truly understand the circumstances here--that already by receiving treatment, especially a surgery in the US, the family has gotten more help than they probably dared hope for--you realize that there are so few options here. Our organization has already done a lot, provided great level of care for free, but second tries are extremely rare here, there is no Children's or St. Jude's, or even Make a Wish Foundation. So what do you do? You grab a package of silly putty from your bag and you bring some leftovers from lunch and promise to come by tomorrow. Because that's all you can do.

It's hard to keep writing in my blog, because I already feel like I'm just living my life down here. It feels odd "reporting" on all that I'm doing. I think at some point I'll appreciate looking back on all this though, so I'll try to keep updating.

Last weekend was a lot of fun. On Friday night we went out for a celebratory drink because we got a five year visa for one of the abandoned babies to go to the US and get surgeries that a Children's Hospital donated to her. She has some severe physical disabilities with her hips and legs, as well as some cosmetic ones on her hands. It was very exciting because it can be extremely hard to get visas, and Ivy and Conan were able to get this great visa with no hassle. So now Alessia is in the US with a bunch of orthopedists trying to figure out the best options for her! Definitely a reason to celebrate.

On Saturday, Ivy and I took a group of girls from the Don Boscoe high school program (girls that grew up at the St. Helene home, who are still in school) to go shopping at the Tabarre market. The girls piled into the back of the pickup, we stopped for a few more on our way there, and turned down the market street. Thankfully, one of the guys in the market took pity on us and let us park the truck in his little lot. Ivy and I were the only two white people there, in a crowd of a couple hundred. The girls loved showing us around and were hilarious trying to pick out bras for Ivy. Everything for sale is second-hand and its usually just hung up on a clothesline. There's lots of fruit and vegetables sitting on the street, bins of rice and beans, raw meat sitting out on little platters. It was really crowded, everybody pushing through the crowd to get to where they need to go. We finally made it off the street and into the actual market which was a series on tin roof shacks piled against each other. It smelled horribly like an outhouse, you had to walk over trash and sewage to get anywhere, but it was so much fun. I found a cute cotton skirt and Ivy got some flip-flops and some clothes for a little girl up in oncology at St. Damien's. When we came back there was a big soccer tournament going on at FWAL, so we stopped and watched for a bit. It was great because one of the volunteers just brought down a bunch of soccer uniforms, so all the kids were dressed up in teams and could actually run around. Normally they're playing soccer in sandals and pants that are ripped or way too big, so they have to stop every few feet to keep their clothes on. It's cute to watch, but it was really nice to see them looking all spiffy in their uniforms. We also stopped by the construction site for the Artists for Peace and Justice (APJ) schools. APJ is financing a large site of secondary schools for our kids who grow up at FWAL, including housing which is great. The buildings look really nice! I'm sure our kids must be excited to have such nice facilities.

On Saturday night we went out to Petionville, to a restaurant Harry's. It is right next to where the old NPFS hospital/volunteer house was. We talked a lot about how nice it must have been to be able to walk around the city and be able to go out without driving 30 minutes each way. At the restaurant, I made the mistake of ordering a mojito which was white rum with peppermint schnapps (or something to that effect). It was not good. Definitely made me miss Kayla and Maddie's mojitos at home!

This week has been a lot of fun because it's the end of summer school at FWAL and St. Helene, as well as Father Wasson day on Tuesday. I drove up to Kenscoff on Tuesday with the communications team to be a part of Father Wasson day. They put on a really great program with tons of music and dancing, the kids had costumes and played instruments, it was really nice. I took videos which I will post when I get a new computer cord, because I lost mine. Claudie, one of the boys who was probably about 10, sat with me through the whole ceremony and was so adorable. He had on a lime green dress shirt under his 'Pere Wasson' t-shirt and some sweet converse high tops. The boys who are 8-10 can be such a nightmare, but I love hanging out with them. If you can wear them out running around on the playground, they are total sweethearts for about 15 minutes before they get their energy back. I think they are hilarious when the test the boundaries of what's appropriate because you can totally see the guilt on their faces and then they burst out laughing and hide their faces because they're embarassed. After the ceremony, we ate some delicious food and cake and headed back to Tabarre.

Claudie and I at the Father Wasson celebration

Girls showcasing their work from the atelier

One of the many dance groups that performed

Yesterday was the end of summer program at FWAL, so I took some volunteers from Operation Blessing over to play with the kids and watch the ceremony there. They had great decorations up and a huge stage with two 'guest bands' that were there to play concerts for the kids! Diedvrek and Azgard, two of the guys who work for NPFS in our offices here, brought their band to play a concert for the kids. They were great and got lots of the kids dancing and even got them to put their hands in the air haha. I got to hang out with Vladimir a bunch which was nice because I haven't seen him in a while.

Boys at FWAL

Vladimir and I

Thumb wars

End-of-Summer Program

I had a conversation with one of our medical students this week about getting more support for the university students. We have a good number of kids want to go to university and have the grades to get in. Right now, we have money to send many of them, but there isn't a good place for them to live and almost no support while they are in school. These students (my peers... we're the same age) are so smart, it is hard to get into a university in Haiti because there are only two, so there is a lot of competition. If they had a house or a dormitory or something, in a location central to the two universities, they could support each other and not spend hours each day getting to and from school. Right now our med student is living in a tent here and studies out in the outdoor volunteer area, where everyone is cooking, talking and hanging out. Not exactly the best study space. It's hard because we want to reward all the work they've done to stay in school, but its another thing that requires resources and staff. And I know that they are willing to work to make it a reality... our med student has spoken with the university about getting scholarships for NPH kids. Hopefully we can make some progress on it soon.

This place is unreal. I don’t even want to write it down because I feel like it’s going to ruin how surreal this experience is. Trying to think up words to describe what working here is like is impossible. Magical? Supernatural? Miraculous? All of those words have this bizarre connotation to them that make you think of crazy people who cast spells, not save children’s lives.

There is more drama here than in high school. Criminals and gangsters are more polite and pleasant than anyone you came across in college. There are enough celebrity stories to fill a gossip magazine. And yet there is more heart than I could ever imagine. Almost daily I have a moment of being completely overwhelmed with happiness and passion for the work we’re doing. The volunteers and employees have a level of commitment to the children and the patients that is blissfully overwhelming. Never have I been a part of an organization or company where there is so much dedication to the work being done. And considering how much has been accomplished, it’s not surprising that each person has devoted themselves wholeheartedly to this organization. What they have collectively built is astounding. By spreading their passion to generous donors, the founders of this organization have created an entire social services network for the people of Port-au-Prince. We serve sick children, abandoned children, mentally and physically disabled children, adults with acute disease and adults with chronic disease. We provide jobs to thousands of Haitian people, we send students to university, we freaking built internet cafés in one of the worst slums in the world.

Nothing I write could possibly do justice to this organization or my experience here. It is amazing.

I’m having a hard time pinning down the way I’m feeling right now.

This morning I was feeling great and super productive because Yvenson and I had a Skype meeting with the two pharmacists who setup our inventory system. It gave me a chance to reflect back on all that we’ve accomplished this month which felt really great. Their compliments didn’t hurt either. We’ve made a lot of progress towards securing donations as well, which is exciting even if it will take them a while to get here. In the next day or two we’ll have all of our usage data compiled for July which will give us so much information to work with. I setup a google doc with our “wish list” for medication needs for short-term volunteers who are coming down and want to bring a donation with them. It’s really great that we are getting this all into a smooth process.

Then something changed in the afternoon. Despite all the progress, which I am definitely proud of, I can’t help feeling it’s inadequate. I feel like we’re trying to put together a 5,000 piece puzzle and Yvenson and I have found one piece. I’m realizing the enormity of the situation here and how much it takes to make a change. It’s hard when the volunteer doctor comes to us saying he needs meds to treat hypertension and we don’t have them. My sense of responsibility for the warehouse is setting in—I even call it “my warehouse”—and not being able to provide the drugs or supplies we need is not only frustrating, but feels irresponsible. It’s so hard not to spiral it out of control… if the volunteer doctor hadn’t been here, this person wouldn’t even get medical care, what about the hundreds of other people in line that day who weren’t seen, what about the ones who didn’t know we had clinic that day, or even worse the ones who were too sick to make it, too poor to get transportation. It’s devastating to think like that.

As of yesterday, I have been living in Haiti for one month! I can't believe it, it's gone by so fast. I'm still learning new things about the organization every day, beginning new friendships and exploring outside the walls of our (huge) compound. I like to think I've learned some things in my month here, so I'll try my best to summarize...


Speaking multiple languages is truly the most useful talent in the world. To be able to talk with everyone and translate gives you access to everything that's going on. It also gives you control of information... what you tell to which people. Very powerful. And great motivation for me to keep working on my Creole.


In the US, a little country like Haiti seems a million miles away. In Haiti, the US is everywhere. Almost all electronics, food, medicine, clothing comes from the US. Political decisions in the US can effect the lives of people here. There is an enormous international presence with all the NGO's that are here, but by far the US is the most represented.


Hospitals, poverty and suffering are not tourist attractions. To have a someone show you around to all the human suffering is cruel if you can't do anything about it. The people who know the ins and outs of the hospitals are the ones that are working the hardest to improve conditions. They have a very strong personal connection to a large number of the people we serve. I can understand the Haitian's dislike for cameras because people want to document their hardship, but don't give something in return. Coming to visit friends or family is very different though. In that case, the employee or volunteer is choosing to take some time for themselves to share their experiences with the people their close to.


When it's difficult to accomplish anything, you appreciate everything. Doesn't really require an explanation...


A child's naivite is truly a gift in such a hard world. Watching an abandoned child 'make believe' phone calls to her mother with the same exuberance as a child who's mother just went to work for the day is absolutely heartbreaking. But the child is happy because every morning she believes today is the day her mother is coming back for her. In time it will leave scars, as she loses her naivite and begins to make harsh realizations, but at least for today she is very happy. It sounds cruel when we know what she will eventually deal with, but it is such a blessing to spend hours playing with her and sharing her laughter and joy. I don't know that being abandoned is something you can ever completely deal with, but it is comforting to see our home raising these children into happy, successful people.


I really took for granted all the equality and opportunities I have been given. I was always appreciative that I went to a college-prep school, that I could play sports and get a job, that I was able to attend university, but never like this. There are so many people here, guys and girls, who are smart and hard-working and want great things for their life, but only able to take themselves so far. Things that you can work hard for in the US, like going to college, getting a job, or buying a house, may not be attainable for some friends I've made here. I am happy to be a part of this organization because it provides great career opportunities for our young adults, but there are so many other people who grew up outside the organization and don't have the same options. In Haiti there are no scholarships, unemployment is rampant, and even if you can save enough money to buy land, you may not get ownership because multiple people have a claim on it. We all know that these are common problems in Haiti, but it is SO different when it is your friend or coworker. I can't even imagine what limited access to clean water, food and healthcare is like on such a personal level.


This post is different from the others because it is a general summary of my time here. I haven't been including personal stories from people's lives out of respect for their privacy. Despite how depressing this sounds, I enjoy every day here and am so thankful for this experience. The people here, both Haitians and volunteers, make my time here incredibly fulfilling and worthwhile and I can't wait to see what this next month will bring!