Work and Play

Kidnapped by Nuns: Clare

This past week flew by, but the weeks do around here. Last week Thursday just as the dinner bell rang, Aaron and I were almost done hanging our laundry to dry. Sister Gloria came running our direction with a concerned look and said “Ann ale! Vamanos!” (Meaning “let’s go” in Creole first then Spanish to make sure the point was understood). Another Sister told us in hurried Spanish to lock our doors quickly and follow them immediately. We walked past the dining room and saw there was no food. We were led to the pick-up truck and told to jump in. The other Sisters were hurrying each other along to do the same. We looked at each other and with nothing else to go on, hopped in the truck. Was there an emergency? Did something serious happen? There didn’t seem to be any time for questions until the truck was already moving, “Where are we going?” Aaron asked her in Creole. Sister Gloria replied from the driver’s seat, exasperated as if she already told us (maybe she had?) “Fieeeeesta!! Fiesta Italianos!” All we could do is look at each other and laugh. We had just been kidnapped by our Sisters and were being taken to a party. I looked down at my stained and shabby laundry day clothes in horror and pleaded with Sister Gloria in Creole, “Mwen bezwen chanje rad! I need to change my clothes!” She threw her head back and giggled, then pointed to a tiny stain on her habit as if to say “No worries!”

We drove off the compound and in another half mile or so arrived at a construction site with a wooden framed building in the middle of the yard that resembled a well designed stage pavilion. We learned this was an Italian building project and everyone in the seminary was invited to their party. We walked into a group of Haitians and Italians grilling kabrit (goat) and frying potatoes and plantains, drinking Prestige, and all dancing to reggae and kompa music. The young Haitian men there taught Aaron and me a really cute Haitian dance step perfectly suited to every track on the Bob Marley’s Greatest Hits album. Our Chilean friends arrived soon after, equally confused, and we all enjoyed the party until late. We were the only English speakers at the party, but we had a great time conversing with people who spoke all different languages. There’s really a skill we’re developing of picking your way through a conversation when there’s only bits a pieces of a shared language (Creole in this case). I was reminded of a quote from my favorite book Shantaram: “We don’t really know what a pleasure it is to run in our own language until we are forced to stumble in someone else’s.” On our way home we realized the compound was already locked. We and the Chileans helped each other over the seven foot tall cinderblock cemented wall without any trouble and said goodbye to our friends, marveling at the unexpected fun adventure of the night. Naturally we don’t have any pictures from this night.

Flag Day: Aaron 

The Haitians know how to let loose and have a good time. This past Friday was Haiti’s Flag Day, so classes were cancelled. The kids came to school that morning for a parade. I didn’t know what to expect since our past parade experience took us on a really long and hot march. Fortunately, the parade turned out to be at the school where the kids and teachers danced and marched in the courtyard. Everyone had Haitian flags and waved them around while they sang traditional national songs and a variety of other music, singing karaoke style into the P.A. system. It went on through lunch and was a lot of fun; the kids’ energy seemed never ending despite the heat. They circled around and spotlighted each other’s baddest dance moves.

Two other people from the United States spent this past week here with the goal of incorporating kids with intellectual disabilities into the classrooms. Here in Haiti, many of these kids stay inside all day and don’t get to socialize much or feel engaged in the community. The Americans had several meetings with Sister Gloria – who seems to know everyone in the community and can make anything happen – and within three days found four suitable kids from parents in the and a nearby orphanage for disabled children with a variety of intellectual and physical disabilities. The kids came with their parents or caregivers to the school for observation and a trial period earlier in the week, and the other school children appeared to receive them gracefully and with compassion. Flag Day, the following day, was the first day these four children were at the school with everyone present to meet them, and I was happy to see the kids interacting with them and including them in the festivities. Exactly how they will be incorporated into the curricula remains to be seen, but is going to be a project for the school and Sister Gloria to figure out this summer. 

School children marching for Flag Day

Waving the flags

View of the school courtyard from the second story

Chilean Party and Beach Day: Clare

Friday night we went off with the Chileans for the night. We drove and bought groceries and went back to their place to cook and relax. The experience of cutting vegetables and preparing a meal really does wonders for making someone feel relaxed and at home. The Chileans are super hospitable and make their home feel like ours when we’re there. We had a great night listening to music, cooking food, and sharing stories. We also taught them how to play beer pong, which apparently doesn’t exist in Chile (until now). We ended the night up on the roof (it’s big and flat, don’t worry) underneath a coconut tree growing between the two buildings, where you could see the lights of Petionville and all the surrounding mountains and we watched the sun come up.

Apparently the Chileans have beginners luck

The ladies holding it down

Planning their comeback

Perfecting the form

Staring down the competition

Action shot from the roof

We took it easy on Saturday after a very late Friday and just relaxed and napped on the compound. We also knew from hearing earlier in the week that the Sisters were taking all the teachers and people compound to the beach so we wanted to get some sleep. The crew consisted of about 30 or so Haitian teachers, a Memphis board member, and two other volunteers, Aaron and I. 

Early Sunday morning we ate breakfast and met everybody in the front of the compound where we loaded a school bus. Apparently, when you get a large number of teachers on a school bus, they start acting like students. They lead a prayer in Creole as the bus took off then busted out in favorite songs that we were able to sing along to after having heard a few verses. We drove out of our neighborhood and found ourselves driving along a paved road past a couple of larger towns with bustling Sunday morning markets mainly consisting of women sitting low to the ground over their vegetables, live animals, eggs and rice laid out on the ground over plastic cut open plastic US AID sacks.  Another turn and we were driving north on the gloriously paved National Route 1.

Bus Shinanigans

We had been driving north for a while with no towns in sight when the bus stopped and pulled off to the side of the road. From what we could tell either the bus ran out of gas or we over heated. The Haitian teachers re-assured us by saying “Machin nan genyen gas” (“The bus needs gas”). I joked in Creole that we should start walking. The bus did start rolling again but shortly after than I noticed a large puff of black smoke come from exhaust pipe. When it became clear we couldn’t continue in the bus, we all got off and waited by the side of the road as motos, SUVs and large brightly painted buses whizzed past our disabled school bus. We don’t ask questions in these types of situations because we’re in the care of locals who know how to handle them. Before too long, a large cargo truck used to carry goats circled around behind our bus, and after some discussion with the teachers, we all climbed aboard with the men hoisting the women into the truck. As the truck took off, the teachers were laughing and patting Aaron and me on the back for being troopers about the whole thing.

Broke down on the side of the road, Middle of Nowhere, National Rout 1

All aboard! Note the photo bomb.

 Riding in the back of the goat truck, laughing and enjoying the serendipity of it all, I was reminded of a terrible option article I had read in the New York Times of a foreign NGO worker who never experienced the local culture and remained completely sheltered from the day to day experiences of Haitians while working abroad. We’re both thankful and proud to be working alongside Haitians and experiencing Haiti with our trusted local friends. We haven’t been in Haiti long enough to have it all figured out (or even to have come close), but one thing we believe is this: it’s how close you are to Haitians and their everyday life that makes all the difference between the volunteer having a rich experience and doing productive work vs. being the career-driven NGO worker wasting time and resources in a country with little of either to spare.

*stepping off the soapbox* Back to our story!

We arrived to Kaliko Beach, a really nice ocean front resort, and were greeted by Sister Gloria stepping out of the clinic pick-up truck, doubled over in laughter at our adventure. The Sisters had gone way out of their way to spoil us with snacks, juice, and soda. All the teachers, lunch servers, and principals let loose playing with a soccer ball in the ocean. A ferocious game of keep away, boys vs. girls, had us all screaming and laughing. We were sure no one at the resort was having more fun than us. Swimming out a ways revealed a breathtaking view of the mountains over the beach. The water (to our northern skin) was incredibly hot. There were no waves because the beach was nestled in a small bay. The Sisters again spoiled us with a plentiful and delicious lunch consisting of pikliz (mmmm), rice and beans, boiled plantains, roasted chicken, bread, and juice.

We've arrived!

Welcome to Kaliko Beach!

Me making an easy catch in an epic game of keep away

At the end of the day after rounding everyone up, Sister Gloria had the house acoustic band playing “Ayiti Cherie” (Haiti Darling), Guantanamera, and other beautiful old Caribbean classics. Sister Gloria (never the shy one) grabbed a maraca from one of the band members and started singing along. Pretty soon the teachers were all out dancing to the music. I was snapping a few pictures of the fun when Sister Gloria, looking around startled and yelled, “Americans!! Where are the Americas?!” I barely had time to set my camera down before she pulled me into the middle of the crowd and someone else pushed Aaron right at me. We were all a big happy family singing and dancing on the beach; it was a wonderful way to end the day. We all loaded onto a different bus and came back to the compound without a hitch. What an awesome day.

The band leader

Cutting a rug (or sand in this instance)

Cha cha cha!

 School Report and Brother Edward: Aaron

This past week I have been busy teaching English and making Mother’s Day cards for the little kids (90+ of them). Maguy and I spent hours and hours creating the material for the kids to have an easy time assembling the cards. We only have one hour with the kids, and Maguy wants them to get some good fine-motor exercises in too, so every second counts. The kids had fun assembling the cards, especially because it involved glue and glitter. Let’s just say we had glitter children at the end of the activity. 

This past week we also met Brother Edward, one of the Haiti Medical Missions of Memphis board members. He’s a wonderfully kind and interesting guy who’s fluent in English, Spanish, and French. He’s Cuban and has lived in several countries throughout his life. Any conversation with him quickly turns philosophical and we absolutely love hearing his ideas and experiences. In the past week topics have included biochemistry (a very basic discussion of how water treatment plants work through natural bacteria), anthropology, history, and some of the fruits growing on the compound. A biology and chemistry teacher, he’s an expert botany and knows every plant variety in the compound (and there are a ton of them). We’re excited for him to walk us around and explain the abundant plant life soon and look forward to hearing more of his stories during his stay.

Clinic Report: Clare

I’m really enjoying the work I’m doing for a lot of reasons, one of them being is that it’s therapy unspoiled by any surrounding influences that are meant to help our patients at home, but can negatively affect patient care like insurance companies, regulations, productivity, and policies. I get to be a therapist, make judgment calls about patient scheduling and frequency, document what’s necessary and implement what needs to be done. Another reason is because a small thing can really improve someone’s quality of life. Last week we had a patient carried in for an eval by three family members. They all left the eval knowing how to help her ambulate with minimal assist from one person with the help of a pair of tennis shoes and a quad cane (alright not a but deal but as an OT who doesn't always champion the walking thing, I felt pretty good about it).  

Me and Paulina, PT

 Other than that the clinic has been busy with patients streaming in all day to be seen. Some have rendezvous (appointments) and some don’t, but we try to fit everyone in; turning someone away after they’ve made the (often times) physical and financial effort to get to our clinic is more than we can bear. When we have cancels, I’ve been enjoying co-treating or working on projects. I’ve enjoyed co-treating with Kendra enormously as I’m learning a lot about pediatrics I didn’t know before. The kiddos are becoming less intimidating to me every week. The weeks seem to be punctuated by the occasional random therapy emergencies on and off hours that need triaging. For example, a school girl who fell and hit her knee was carried in screaming and crying a few days ago who needed a simple ice pack, a place to elevate her knee, a kind word, and a teddy bear to hold for a few hours. Or a compound worker who limped in a few weeks ago with a sprained ankle that needed to learn to walk on crutches and an air cast. Or a man who showed up with his son’s broken prosthetic leg and needed a new hole drilled into it and a bolt to replace the broken one. It feels good to be the local community therapist; you’re known and needed at all hours for all kinds of reasons.

The rehab gym

Another view of the gym

Step into my office

Stroke class!

Therapist in training

I’m also excited to report that my Parkinson’s lady is doing simply amazing! She has enough endurance to wash her clothes by hand Haitian style at home now (see the picture of us from last week), enough amplitude in her movement to pump water, and in general move her body and speak with confidence; even her blood pressure is under control now, which is a daily concern  with nearly all of our rehab patients (from the Haitian diet heavy with salt, oil and Tampico). Our plan is to discharge her from skilled therapy and have her come into the clinic and lead herself through her Parkinson’s exercise program where I can keep an eye on her movements and blood pressure and give her cueing if needed. Afterwards she’ll attend our exercise class where I know Verito is keeping an eye on her to cue her for big movements. She’s well on her way to a successful launch from therapy which is the goal for all our patients.

Another advantage of having my focus being solely on patient care is I’ve had the energy and time this week to modify a wheelchair, construct a power web hand exerciser, make adjustments to the stubborn platform walker, and work on a project of assembling some one-handed cutting boards for patients in the stroke class. I think I love building nearly as much as I love treating. Not all my projects turn out perfect like my week long failed battle to attach anti-tippers on the back of a chair, but I'm enjoying learning as I go and indulging my inner Tim Allan (to use a home town reference).

I also pulled some scheduling tricks that will take place next month to meet the needs of two similar stroke patients who present with right sided hemiparesis, oral motor apraxia (difficulty with planning motor requirements needed to form letters) as well as global aphasia (or difficulty understanding/expressing language).  My plan is to see them each for two separate hours Friday morning where we’ll spend one hour working on physical/motor stuff then the second hour their treatment will overlap so they can work on speech activities together. I’m ridiculously excited for this partnership to begin because I believe it’s really important for patients with seemingly bizarre and rare symptoms to meet and share their experiences with someone who can truly relate. My hope is their relationship will last longer and be more therapeutic long term than my presence here.

There’s talk in the future of Aaron possibly running a support/counseling group inspired by the one ran by our amazing psychologist at my last job, to educate families and provide skills for coping which is so needed. In Haiti, a disabling condition is way more than the loss of independence; it’s a loss of security for you and your family. In earnest we want to do everything we can as a clinic to get our working-age patients, including my two 40 something year old guys with aphasia, back to work. With no governmental safety net or disability benefits, their health and the future of their family depend on it. 

Other urgent matters here in the clinic are the need for reliable community referrals. Of course we have our outpatient clinic, which is amazingly equipped to deal with a lot of the problems here. However, the nearest emergency services are scarce, their hours limited, and the transportation to get there is sometimes impossible. When I can’t refer my patients somewhere, especially when there’s an emergency, there is a sinking feeling of dread.  I’m holding my breath this weekend for a much loved spinal cord injury patient who hasn’t urinated or cathed successfully in nearly a week and needs to see a urologist STAT. I truly believe something will work out and he’ll come back with the issue resolved, but the outcome is out of my hands. Afterward, I can reinforce his urologist’s recommendations and do training. I’ve already measured out a Tampico bottle with markings in cubic centimeters so he can monitor and record his urine output which was the best I could do for him yesterday. I read a quote somewhere that captures my mixed feelings of optimism and fear about the work I do day to day; “Haiti: Where the possible is impossible and the impossible is possible.” I’ve seen more of the later than the former, and I’ve been truly amazed every day at the possibilities. 

Celebrations Next Week: Clare

Next week is full of celebrations including Mother’s Day tomorrow. In Haiti this is known as “Bòn fèt manman” and is celebrated the last Sunday in May. I read somewhere that to honor your mother you wear a flower in your hair. The color depends on if she’s alive or how long ago she died. I unknowingly brought a red flower hair clip with me, which is the color to symbolize a living mother. I’ll wear it tomorrow to honor my SEVEN healthy, beautiful mothers (including step-moms and grandmothers in both Aaron and my families combined). 

Of course, Monday is Memorial Day which we’ll celebrate with the other two Americans Brother Ed and Kendra. Kendra and I have contemplated making a mix to play during work with some good ole American hits! I think Ray Charles’ “America” and some Woody Guthrie “This land” will do just fine. Kendra also brought back an inflatable swimming pool from the US and I think taking it up to the roof afterwork for a dip would be a good substitution for a day grilling in the back yard.

Thursday the clinic is closed for Fèt Dieu or Corpus Christi (Latin for the Body of Christ) which is a Catholic holiday. I’ve been told conflicting things about Fèt Dieu; that it’s a day celebrating Christ’s body in pain and also that it’s God’s birthday (perhaps a sloppy translation to English?) Either way, I think many Haitian’s will go to church. We may have something planned here at the compound that I don’t know about yet.

Friday we pack our things and take off to Jacmel to celebrate the grand event of the week, Aaron’s birthday! We’ll be staying in the beautiful and historic Hotel Florida which will be a major splurge for us. Once we get a ride to Port Au Price, we’ll take a bus about 2-3 hours to the southern coast, and costs only 150 gourdes (or $4 U.S. dollars per person). We’re really looking forward to some alone time, good Haitian food, beautiful beach, music, and culture. There’s an endless amount of activities and sights in one of Haiti’s most lovely and historic cities, so I’m sure we won’t run out of things to do. 

The week after that will be a short one, as we fly into Detroit from June 5-10 for Andy and Kelli’s wedding. That of course marks the near halfway point in our Haiti Hiatus. Time is really flying by so fast. I don’t want our time here to end so soon, but on the other hand we’re dreaming of Sushi, Dali dog, and the beautiful fall air awaiting us in Ann Arbor, Michigan when we return home for good.

The look of carefree foreigners who have no idea how badly sun-burnt they are getting

Our Weekend in Kenscoff

To recap our weekend, we wrote this blog post together recalling our adventures and impressions in the mountains with Maguy (pronounced “Maggie”). Maguy is Aaron’s coworker and friend from school who invited us to her house. We spent this past weekend in a small mountain town near Kenscoff called La Boule. We were excited to get off the compound for a weekend and experience a new environment, and that’s exactly what we got.

We left the compound around 3:00pm when Clare finished work and caught a ride toward the mountains. The ride usually takes Maguy about 2-2.5 hours and 6 tap-taps. Tap-taps are a uniquely Haitian public transportation system consisting of colorfully painted pick-up trucks with the bed outfitted with benches and a truck cap which can cram 10-20 people depending on the urgency of its passengers. You ride one until it either turns around in a city center or someone requests off with a simple “Mesi.” Luckily we saved a lot of time during this commute because Maguy arranged for her friend to take us a good portion of the way to the crowded and busy city of Petionville directly from our compound, so we only had 2 or 3 tap-taps after that before arriving to Maguy’s house. The climate was much cooler by the time we got up in the mountains, with noticeably more greenery and less humidity.

Since coming to Haiti, we’ve bought some eggs and beer at little stands near our compound and been treated well and given relatively fair prices. Everyone around here knows our faces and where we live, and are very friendly.

The market was a different experience. We stopped at the market on our way to her house Friday to get some produce. This was a huge market, descending from street level into a tarp-covered catacomb of pathways, stairs, twists and turns down a large hill with hundreds of vendors selling all kinds of food, drinks, and sundries. It was totally crowded with people pushing past each other, some with giant sacks or baskets of whatever they were selling on their head or in their arms. This was Haiti’s version of Meijer. We were enveloped in a sea of Haitians with a path one-person wide and several people moving through it at any given time. Maguy warned us in advance that when you’re white in Haiti sometimes, “people will ask you more” which we already know and have encountered, but that didn’t prepare us for what we experienced accompanying her to the market. We knew that as Blancs (Whites), people would charge Maguy more money for things because she was with us. We were wisely told to let her do the shopping and to stay back a ways so we weren’t associated with her; it didn’t really work. Everyone knew we came in together immediately and shouted “Blanc! Blanc! Blanc! Blanc! Bay mwen lajan! Give me money! Hey blanc! Give me yon dollar!” as they crowded around us and reached for our arms. We have both had experiences separate and together while traveling abroad where people were crowing around you and begging, but the sea of people and the spectacle we became was total chaos on a level that doesn’t compare. It was one of the more overwhelming experiences we’ve had to date. We couldn’t stop thinking about how absolutely different this was to every previous interaction we have had with Haitians. Eventually Maguy got far enough away from us that she got what we needed for dinner at a fair price and we made our way back up the hill to street level. Maguy thanked us for keeping a distance by saying, “If that woman were to see me with you she would have my head!” With that we jumped into another tap-tap and headed to Maguy’s house with arms full of produce.

Maguy lives with her son and daughter (12 and 15) in a small poured cement house with wood beam framing on the side of a hill. This house was built by her parents and survived the 2010 earthquake and many hurricanes. Her main room serves as the living room, kitchen, and dining room, complete with a couch, dining table, cooking space, pantry, and two giant 50 gallon plastic water drums (one for well water, one for storing food). Like all the other houses nearby and most in Haiti, Maguy’s has no running water or electricity. At night it’s lit with an old school gas lamp that travels from room to room and reminded us of Little House on the Prairie. The house was constructed with a big rectangular well that collects all rainwater runoff from the house. We’ve never experienced a life without running water and electricity besides camping, so we were reminded of those times. Even with the convenience of a well next to us, it takes a lot of work to have a ready supply of water. First, you have to collect it in buckets and fill the big plastic drum inside. Next, treat it with chlorine to make sure it’s safe to wash dishes, bathe in, and most everything else except to drink. Drinking water is purchased down the road in 5 gallon jugs you would find in an office that needs to be hauled back up the hill to the house. There is a toilet in the house that requires about a gallon of water dumped into it to flush.

Maguy and her family were incredibly gracious hosts throughout the whole weekend. As soon as we arrived, Maguy invited us to take a load off on the couch, and let me tell you we’ve never been so glad to sink into a couch! We don’t have one here on the compound and it’s really easy to take for granted the luxury of falling back into a comfy cushioned couch at the end of a long day. We then had another treat right after, some Haitian coffee (brewed like espresso) on the stove. It was delicious. That evening we relaxed with some Prestige and tasty home-cooked food. Before bed, Maguy heated up some water on the stove for us to take a bucket bath in a space in her bathroom resembling a large shower with no faucet. Although we have a running-water shower on the seminary compound, it is always cold water (which isn’t always a bad thing in the heat). But slowly pouring hot water over your body after a long day’s work felt absolutely incredible. There’s no substitute for that. Just before bed, Maguy poured us some delicious Barbancort rum she had soaked in loquats and sour cherries. We listened to some classic Haitian kompa music on her laptop computer she charged at a neighbor’s house. Her kids cracked us up as they rolled their eyes; they wanted to listen to American pop, not old people Haitian music. Maguy and her 12 year-old daughter usually share a bed in the master bedroom, but for us, she arranged for her and her daughter sleep on a couch and cot in the kitchen so we could have the bed. Being warm and toasty from the hot water bath and having just enjoyed a delicious sweet rum night cap, we fell into the best deep sleep we’ve had since arriving to Haiti.

Saturday Clare awoke to Maguy delivering a tray of Haitian coffee with sugar (the way she had enjoyed it the day before) in bed and told her to stay in bed and rest as long as she liked. When Clare laughed and thanked her for treating her like a princess, she smiled and said, “Everyone needs to feel like that sometimes.” Aaron accompanied Maguy off to the market again for more groceries and another reminder of what color his skin was from a frenzied crowd of pushy vendors and gawkers. After a big American breakfast of French toast and pancakes (Jeff’s recipe of bananas and egg whites), we went with Maguy and her daughter to Kenscoff on an adventure to walk around and visit the school she worked at for five years before coming to this school.

We arrived to the downtown area of Kenscoff in about an hour’s ride. From there we walked into the mountains to a remote little village where we were met by Maguy’s friend who works at the school and handed her the keys. From the village it’s about an hour’s walk to the school, but we were lucky to catch a ride from a friendly guy driving an empty salt-truck most of the way. Riding in the back of the truck along the side of the mountain was breathtakingly beautiful, and we savored every second of it. We explored the school, which consisted of four or five separate small rooms decorated with children’s drawings and teachers’ lessons etched in chalk on the board from the prior week. It was a very modest school overlooking a gorgeous valley of mountains.

The whole time we walked around the school Maguy shared her ideas with us. All of them were really progressive and in line with the best care someone would expect for kids in the States. She spoke about her passion for educating kids 0-3, as this was the most important time for training parents on important activities to do at home to foster healthy development. She shared her frustration with how teachers and communities don’t do enough to encourage healthy developing children because of the obligation to work to put food on the table. She had and endless supply of ideas as to what activities are best for encouraging curious minds and engaged students. Her passion and creativity for educating children is truly a gift.

We walked back about an hour to Maguy’s friend to give him back the keys, with her saying hi and catching up with neighborhood children and adults all along the way. It was fun seeing her totally in her element, asking former students how they were doing in school and hearing the latest news of friends she hasn’t seen in a while. We realized just how socially connected she is to her community and how important that is for anyone’s wellbeing in a place like this where favors and relationships are worth more than money. Again, Aaron and I experienced Haitians the way we knew them from our neighborhood, as people pleased to meet us, smiling, and only little children shouting “blanc!”at us.

We arrived back to the house and were excited for our first American dinner adventure: tacos! We hadn’t made the tortillas from scratch before so we crossed our fingers. Maguy and her family were eager to try tacos, as they never had them before. The tortillas turned out incredible and convinced us to never buy them from a store again (seriously, there’s no comparison), and we had the tacos complete with fresh guacamole, pico de gallo, cheese, homemade refried beans, and a fresh lettuce salad. We’re still drooling as we write this blog entry. Maguy and the kids had fun assembling them. As we heard Maguy explain in Creole, “These are tortillas, this is salsa, this is guacamole, and these are refried beans; when you put them all together, they make a taco.”

Sunday was Mother’s Day, and even though we were unable to Skype our actual mothers, seeing Maguy make the ordinary day-to-day miracles happen to keep her family happy and healthy made it a wonderful Mother’s Day for us. Sunday morning Maguy and Clare made a recipe Clare had recalled her mom making years ago with the most abundant produce this time of year (yep, mangoes). Watching the kids finish the mango crisp we made in her brand new propane gas oven and asking for seconds made the work well worth it. We made a Mother’s Day toast to Maguy over some Haitian coffee and immediately the work began to get lunch ready. Transporting water, cutting vegetables, buying and hooking up more propane, and washing dishes by hand with the 3 bucket sanitation system kept us busy until it was time to enjoy another meal of fresh fish seasoned with lime, garlic, onions, dill, and oregano served with  Maguy’s “Chinese rice” recipe made with Jasmine rice, worcestershire sauce, fish stock, and veggies, accompanied by a fresh salad.

After lunch, we ran from the table and witnessed the usual family hustle to get ready for the 3pm church service. Maguy lent Clare a nice silk below the knee skirt to wear with her most blouse-like cotton t-shirt and Aaron was deemed “Alright I guess if that’s what you have,” in a button down plaid shirt and khaki pants. As most families are when they look their best, we were a few minutes late to service in a medium sized room with school chairs and a podium. When asked how long the service would be, Maguy replied, “Not very long at all, just an hour and 45 minutes.” Did she mean 45 minutes up to an hour? Apparently not. Maguy kept Clare awake and engaged by filling her in on some Creole words she didn’t know and translating parts of the service in a whisper. Some of it was funny and we were relieved to join a service that was light hearted and where no one tried to convert us. We were, again, the only blancs in the room and afterwards we were swarmed street-market style, only this time people were waiting in line to greet us and thank us for coming. Everyone had a warm smile and kind words for us. We still really wonder about how the context in which you encounter someone you don’t know can change so drastically in Haiti.

Sunday night was the much anticipated (at least for the kids...and Aaron) pizza night! Aaron led a pizza making assembly team. Maguy’s daughter was very interested to follow and participate in each step. Maguy and Clare gave their best guess on how to make a cake, and since we had a beautiful fresh pineapple, pineapple upside down cake seemed like the only logical option. All this was a little nerve racking because we were cooking all these meals either from memory or by a new recipe we had looked up on the internet before we left the compound. At Maguy’s house there are no cookbooks or internet. Our biggest worry was that we would screw something up and would have wasted hard earned food. You can only imagine the relief when Clare flipped the cake pan upside down to reveal a beautiful, nearly perfect (albeit weirdly textured from an unknown missing ingredient) pineapple upside down cake to a family cheering “Bravo!” The pizza recipe required some modifications due to the lack of refrigeration so we used Laughing Cow cheese. It’s perfectly foil-wrapped slices make it ideal for Haiti when reliable refrigeration is almost never available (even at the compound). The pizza was an easy win and we felt the satisfaction of preparing an incredible meal for a family. The kids and Maguy had leftovers for lunch the next day. Again we enjoyed another serving of Maguy’s loquat cherry rum followed by another soothing lamp-lit hot water bucket bath before falling asleep to the sound of a million frogs and crickets outside.

All this generosity was second nature and in spite of a daily financial struggle to get by. Maguy sat down and gave us frank figures of her financial situation. There’s no possibility of saving money and no cushion should an emergency occur. This is something Clare sees her patients struggle with day to day as family bread winners are disabled from strokes with no governmental security net whatsoever. And Maguy’s doing pretty well all things considered. Her family is certainly in the middle class relative to the standard of living of the majority of Haitians. Her and her neighbors are working to get electricity to their homes and she’s collecting PVC pipe to guide the wires. She dreams of buying her own house with lots of natural light where she can plant lush gardens and she dreams of building a school for educating parents and young children on helpful child-rearing, nutrition, and positive discipline.

What she chooses to do with and without though is a real testament to her values. Think of an American in this situation (including us). Despite being tight on money each week, she doesn’t skip out on quality fresh produce the way many Americans would in a tight financial situation. If you were surprised to learn she has invested in a laptop, consider that she doesn’t own a can opener (she could probably do it faster with a knife anyway). As you can imagine, not a scrap of food is wasted, and Maguy corrected Clare’s sloppily peeled tomatoes by boiling the peel and pressing the remaining pulp for the tomato sauce. She has the upmost respect for her home even though it’s quite rustic to us. For example, Aaron was helping to clean up after a meal by sweeping the floor, and without thinking, he started sweeping the little bits of dust and food out of the kitchen door into the gravel and plants outside - just like he'd seen everyone do on the compound. Maguy quickly corrected him by handing him a dust pan. Aaron was caught off guard, but little things like that are really important to her. I don’t think Maguy is unique this way. With all the dust and mud that gets splashed on you comminuting around the country, it’s still not uncommon to see Haitians (who likely do their laundry by hand) wearing beautiful spotlessly clean white dresses and shoes to church or to see people walking with garment bags containing nice suits, as Aaron was surprised to notice his first day. Aaron and I had the opposite mentality, thinking “Why even try? We’ll just ruin our nice things” when deciding what clothes to bring to Haiti. As we discovered, little things like that are what keep you proud of who you are and your country. Aaron is asked daily by the school kids why his shoes are so shabby, and they can’t believe it when he tells them they’re the only pair he has in Haiti.

In addition to absorbing all the differences of living with Maguy and her kids for the weekend relative to our own lives in the United States, perhaps more striking were the similarities. We’re still new to the Creole language, but it didn’t take much to understand many of the conversations between Maguy and her kids: “Don’t wear your hat and pants like that, you look like a rapper!” “Clean you room before our guests see what a mess it is.” But all this mothering is done with a great amount of love and humor. When her 15 year-old son arrived late for dinner because he was out with friends, she called his cell phone and said, “Sorry Cheri, it looks like you’re doing the dishes and eating cold food, you better make it home quick before it’s all gone.” When he came home shortly thereafter, he saved the usual eye rolling and tongue clicking that would accompany a command to do the dishes and got busy scrubbing plates. Every time I heard her younger daughter give a “Ugh, but Mama!” we couldn’t help but laugh at the universal tone of a whiny ­­­­­teenager’s voice.

Generosity was a theme flowing throughout the whole weekend. From Maguy’s hospitality to off-duty tap-tap drivers giving us a free lift a good portion of the way back to the clinic Monday morning for work, or Maguy bringing her neighbors plates of freshly cooked food, you start to realize that social connectedness and caring for others is perhaps the most essential aspect of emotional and physical survival. Everyone gives some of what they have to those around them and those in need, and it all comes around. Though we spoke of it often with her this past weekend, we can only hope that Maguy comes to visit us in the States someday, if only so we can return the favor. She unflinchingly guided us through the chaos of the market, held our hands as we crossed the frenzied streets in downtown Petionville, was eager to swap recipes, and happily offered us every creature comfort she had for the entirety of our stay. She gives new meaning to what it means to receive someone in your home. Maguy’s kindness is perfectly in synch with the Haitian proverb: “Manje ki fet pa gen met.” In English, “Cooked food has no owner.”

-Clare and Aaron
 

Outside the front door of Maguy's house

Pathway down to the street level

Beautiful flowers on Maguy's property

Maguy showing us how to prepare fish

Maguy's cats, Yougi and Nunu on the super comfy couch

 

The cozy kitchen

Clare eagerly awaiting a well-earned meal

Fresh tortillas, guacamole, pico de gallo, and salad

Delicious lunch of salad with homemade dressing, Haitian style fish, jasmine "Chinese" rice, and sweet corn souffle

Proud of our hard-earned meal! And what picture of a 15 year-old wouldn't be complete without a tongue sticking out?

Late night pizza was definitely worth the wait

Maguy showing Clare how to braid hair in record time

Mountain-side View of Kenscoff

Beautiful flowers everywhere

  

Mountain view in Kenscoff

View from the school Maguy used to teach at in Kenscoff

Maguy's daughter posing for the camera in one of the class rooms

School children's work

Clare and Maguy with fresh-picked flowers