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'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 |
No comments:
Post a Comment