fear

A flash of lightening catches the corner of my eye from the window. I wait, breathing slowly, for the thunder to follow. I don't count the time anymore like I used to do with my Dad when I was little. Here, the anticipation isn't fun. Here, the anticipation builds and I breathe a little faster and I feel my chest tightening. I brace myself-- I can't help it-- for the wall-rattling, all-consuming thunder of the Carribean. The first boom sounds and I stop. For a split second longer I wonder if this roll is really going to shake us.

The thunder here scares me. Not in a hysterical, hide-under-the-covers kind of way, but as a powerful force outside of anyone's control that can destroy this fragile place. When I came to Haiti, I loved the thunderstorms. As soon as the rain started, or hopefully a little before, I would run into my house, open the curtains in the second bedroom and sit on the cot and watch the lightening crack in the distance. It was thought-provoking in a positive way to have finally arrived in Haiti, to be in the tropics and to feel the power of something so much bigger than myself. I knew the troubles the rain brought, cholera was already here, and I knew my job was more urgent with each passing storm. But I never felt the fear.

Ten months later, I feel it. I feel it with each bolt of lightening, each rumble of thunder, the passing minutes of a downpour. I feel it when I see young children, 6 or 7 years old, playing and splashing in the bay of trash outside of St. Mary Hospital. I feel it in the moment of hesitation before I enter the abandoned room, knowing that at any time one of the kids could be gone. I feel it when a coworker tells me his friend has had signs of cholera since the morning and I hear the trembling in his strong voice. Oh man did I feel it when we had an earthquake here. At first fear for myself, but when it was over, fear for my friends and the horrible memories I knew this small quake would bring back.

There have been so many of these moments here. And the accompanying realization that although I'll do what I can, there are powerful forces both natural and man-made that leave me helpless. To continue living in Haiti, I won't let this fear consume my thoughts. But on this stormy evening, it seems right to acknowledge it and respect it's rightful place in my experience here.

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy (early) Mother's Day!!!

This is an amazing article written by my boss for Mother's Day. He talks about one of the women that we work with who is just a phenomenal person. I don't know her super well, but she is always joyful, always singing and always kind. All this, despite the fact that she has the most depressing job of all (in my opinion) of coordinating the funerals and burials for adults and children who die at our hospitals.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/wynn-walent/haiti-cholera_b_1501446.html?ref=fb&src=sp&mimi=1&comm_ref=global_motherhood&comm_crv

An especially Happy Mother's Day to the mom's in my life who have helped me grow so much- Mom, Gosia, Ginny, Grandma Gayle and Grandma Charlene. I'm so lucky to have you all in my life!

concentrate

How do you possibly sit down and concentrate long enough to study for the GRE when your coworker is out getting his friend who has had cholera-symptoms all morning to bring back to our CTC, there is a room full of kids locked up in their cribs just dying for you to take them on a walk and a chapel full of amazing singers rehearsing that you know the kids would love?

Guess I'm getting up an hour earlier tomorrow... 5:30am here I come.

weekend highlights

Sometimes working for this organization is so f-ing cool. Seriously.

I spent Saturday morning cleaning like a crazy person and doing tons of laundry. Your clothes get 100 times dirtier in Haiti due to the excessive heat/sweat/dust, not to mention I spend my days in a warehouse and playing with babies that don't have real diapers. So you take those dirty clothes and try to wash them by hand... anyways it takes a while. So what do I do after my unglamorous morning? Go meet a famous actress. And by that I mean she was hanging out at the tents, so my boss introduced me and she complimented my work and we talked for a bit. She had a group with her, including some journalists, so the group of us went out to dinner. Father Rick came too and was the grand entertainer as usual, but I really respected that the actress let Father Rick be the star and tell his stories for the journalists. It ended up being a really late night, but of course as soon as we got back to the hospital, Father left on a moto to go down to Cite Soleil to our new cholera center.

The next morning we woke up early to head up to Kenscoff to go to mass at St. Helene. Mass was nice as usual, but when we got back to the retreat house, we were talking with one of the drivers about what he thought of the current President of Haiti, Martelly, which of course led to a whole discussion on politics. I could tell from his stories that he was very anti-Aristide, which became more and more obvious the longer we talked. Now this guy is super sweet. I spent my last car ride with him talking about how hard he has worked hard to give his children the education he never had. He talked about taking in his nieces and nephews when their parents died and about all the years he has worked for Father Rick and how much he respects our organization. But back to his political stories.

By now we're all in a group walking back up to the truck to go home and the driver is in a full-fledged rant. He sayss, "Do you know what Aristide used to do?! He was burning American flags on the streets! And do you know what we said when he did that, we said, 'Good! That guy won't be around much longer!'" At which point Father Rick turns to us and says, "Of course he hates Aristide, he was a tonton macoute!"

Just incase you're not totally up on your Haiti history, thanks to Wikipedia: "Duvalier employed the Tonton Macoutes in a reign of terror against any opponents... Tonton Macoutes murdered more than 60,000 Haitians."
 
I'm 100% sure that my mouth fell open, to which the driver confirms, "ya, I was a macoute." Like it was his freaking college alumni or something. I spent the drive home dazed that within 24 hours I met a famous Hollywood actress and a tonton macoute. Haiti put me right back in my place though with an emergency bathroom situation mid-way through our two hour drive. Good ol' Haiti...
 
We got back from Kenscoff, I took an hour nap, and then we left again to go down to the new cholera treatment center in Cite Soleil. It was absolutely incredible. I had gone the previous Saturday with Father Rick to put in the temporary little generator, fans and lights. When I arrived, there were 10 cholera patients being treated. I met the girl who couldn't have been more 17, who had been so dehydrated when she came in that Father Rick (he's also a doctor) had given her an intraosseous infusion in her legs. For non-medical people, an IO infusion is when they drill a needle straight into the patient's bones to administer IV fluid as fast as possible. She looked better compared to the guy next to her and she was SO brave as the nurse was pulling the needles out. She just covered her eyes with her arm and only let out a wince once. Let me tell you too, pulling those needles out of a bone is a process. I think it’s awesome that we were able to literally save her life overnight and who knows what would have happened to her if that CTC had been opened even a week later.

Came home to find another famous actress here along with her team of important people that are helping us out.
 
All in all, it was a pretty awesome weekend.