Day 3: June 8th, 2010 Journal

        Today, Tabitha, Harry, Rachel, & I were picked up by two Haitian gentleman who drove us to a village, now a tent city, that had sustained damage from the earthquake. Upon entering, a thin older Haitian woman walked up speaking to us in Creole. At this point we had no translator so we guessed what she was trying to communicate shook our heads “yes” in reply to the unknown. The woman invited us into her home, a large blue Coleman tent, donated by a relief organization. It was setup on a spread of cinderblocks and rocks keeping the floor of the tent about 12” off the ground - this was because of the frequent downpours at night since Haiti is now well into the rainy season. Inside the tent it was pristinely clean and about 20 degrees warmer than the already 100 degree temps. We graciously accepted the invite and took a seat on the large blanket that laid in the middle of the tent floor. The woman charaded that this was where they slept at night - In fact, about 16 of them per tent. The only other items in the tent was a basket of clean laundry and a 5 gallon bucket full of pots and pans for cooking. I thought about how luxurious my home was.

Once we were inside about 5-10 minutes, a crowd grew outside the door. Many Haitians were staring in whispering “blancs” and watching us closely. One woman handed Rachel her 3 month old baby thru the door. This scene was kind of crazy, now that I think of it - I can’t image walking around in Franklin and seeing a foreigner, and then immediately handing them my infant. Just another cultural difference. The story gets even better about 60 seconds after the infant is handed off to my friend. Rachel begins firmly nudging me and peering down at the puddle of urine forming in her lap. The infant did not have on a diaper (not unusual) and had relieved himself on her. Once the Haitians noticed what happened they erupted in laughter - we laughed along with them, as to not look offended by what had happened. 

We left the tent city shortly after we loaded up about 12 people in the back of the truck. These folks had been told we were going to setup a medical clinic and they wanted to come be seen. To get to the clinic we traveled about 1 mile and then entered thru a crowded angry mob of Haitians at a market - a market that was clearly not meant to have F350 diesel trucks driving through it. Chaotically people on the pathway were pulling their goods and produce out of the way as our driver laid on the horn continually(another cultural difference). The driver was knocking into people's carts, running over produce that was not moved quickly enough, and ultimately pissing people off. Just as I was beginning to get a little nervous a small riot broke out - women were yelling angrily and slapping the windows - I'm certain many 4 letter Haitian words were being tossed around. Everyone was crowded around the truck peering in - looking at us “blancs” with wide eyes. The Haitian man in the passenger seat who was in charge of our travels today opened his window and tried to explain (in Creole) to the people that we were only trying to make it to the clinic. After much screaming back and forth, the Haitian leader motioned for us to get out. The Haitians in the back of the truck were already jumping out, grabbing the medical bags, and walking away with them. I was uneasy at first but soon realized they were carrying them up to the clinic for us. 

At the clinic there was a check-in desk, several empty exam rooms, and a Cuban doctor. I realized looking around that this was a for-profit clinic - a list hung near the door of fees to be charged for each type of service/visit. (most were around $30 - not sure if this is Haitian dollar/Gourdes/or US$) I spoke with the Cuban doctor and told him I could see patients for him. Basically we setup in the check-in office and saw first those who had already signed in - but for free of course. I was unsure how this would go over because we were ultimately taking away business from the clinic & pharmacy...but it turns out they were happy to have the patients seen and treated. In fact, midway through, the MD was sending out his patients with prescriptions to be filled by us with our medication supply, instead of his pharmacy. We saw approximately 50 patients and were pretty efficient as far as keeping the flow going. I felt very comfortable having figured out the best strategies in March on my first trip. With each patient I listened to heart and lung sounds, took a manual blood pressure, and listened to their complaint via a translator. Then I sent them out with medications and education on caring for their illness. The translator was a Godsend and did a great job keeping up with my Southern dialect. The common conditions I saw and treated were hypertension, cough, fever, headache, abdominal pain, & many many vaginal infections. We had feminine hygiene kits that I began giving out to each woman who was being treated for a vaginal infection. The kits were packaged in a ziploc bag and included: A washcloth, towel, bar of Irish Spring soap, lotion, and about 8 Kotex pads. This quickly got out of hand as word spread quickly about where they had received this merchandise. Women began crowding the door and pleading for the kits. We gave out all 50 kits. I had great help from Tabitha and Rachel running this clinic - they did a great job packaging up the their prescription while I finished each exam & gave medication instructions. This was a great day -  I felt we really touched a lot of people and met many needs that would’ve otherwise been neglected. I could tell with each patient that there was a void being filled as I touched them & listened to their needs. I’m certain the biggest accomplishment here was not the medication or the diagnosis, but it was simply letting them be heard. 

After clinic we drove to the nursing school, which was a plywood warehouse-type building that housed about 12 classrooms out in the open (no dividers). Primary school was held here until 2pm, then nursing classes were taught after that. There were 97 nursing students at this time, 36 had been killed in the quake. The students were divided into 3 different classes - I assumed this was 3 different levels because they were wearing different uniforms. Each class was held in front of a chalkboard where their lesson was written. The translator from the clinic had joined us here at the school to translate for the students. Harry welcomed me to each group of students and told them I was an RN from the states. From there I spoke with the students and encouraged them in their studies. I told them I was so proud that they had chosen a profession of service, just as Jesus had chosen to live a life of service to others, and this gave them so much opportunity to show love to their neighbors and community. I also told them how desperately Haiti needed them as educated leaders during this time of hardship and how influential each of them could become in changing their country for the better. They were very happy to hear these words. Several students had questions for me about the structure of American healthcare/nursing and each class asked if I could come teach a conference or workshop for them. Oh, how I would love to make this happen. I plan on scheduling something of the sorts in the future with Harry, the director of Healing Hands Intl., who understands my passion for these girls and their importance for Haiti’s future. 

After I talked with the classes we handed out a stethoscope to each student and a blood pressure cuff to each classroom for the students to practice with. I wasn’t entirely sure that the students would know what to do with the stethoscopes. One said “It’s not complete”...and confirmed my suspicions. “Not complete?”, I said....then I realized she was referring to a BP cuff. In their mind the only use they knew for the stethoscope was to take a blood pressure, so I put the stethoscope over one of the girls hearts and showed them how to listen. This was an awesome thought...that these 97 young women would now graduate nursing with their own stethoscope. This could really change their realm of understanding and their assessment of every patient they care for in the future. Now they can learn to identify abnormal heart and lung sounds, listen for bruits over the carotid artery, listen to bowel sounds, etc. If in fact, it works out for me to return to teach a workshop for these ladies it would surely be on how to fully assess a patient. I’m thrilled just thinking about the possibility of this happening. Also very excited to visit the blind man tomorrow.

Day 1 & 2: June 6th-7th, 2010 Journal

Day 1:

Today we left from Nashville around 615am for Port Au Prince. Our connecting flight in Miami was delayed so we paced and chatted with fellow passengers, awaiting our plane. One crew seated near us was a church group from Greensburg, Kansas that was traveling to Port de Paix to rebuild an orphanage that had collapsed during the earthquake. While killing time I googled the city to find out it is deemed “Haiti’s most beautiful city”. It’s located on the north coast, about 100 mi from PAP. These extremely nice folks explained to me that their entire town had been completely destroyed by a F5 tornado 3 years ago. A young volunteer, and new dad, stated “This was our way to give back and say thanks - because we received an unbelievable amount of help when we faced disaster.” Wow. Talk about paying it forward. I love this type of volunteerism, its contagious.

While waiting for the PAP flight I watched several of Francis Chan’s video blogs. One in particular was about how we are called to be ambassadors of Christ. The thought of this lays a great deal of responsibility on us as Christ followers. We must make sure that we are truly speaking in a way that is pleasing to God - our words must so carefully represent our Christ, as he is so deserving. Chan compared this relationship to having a translator...a comparison I have lots of experience with. :) When you have a translator you are quite vulnerable to misrepresentation - someone else is conveying your message. What a thought. I should think about this more often. What kind of translator am I being for Jesus?

The flight into PAP was painless, aside from the delay. Stepping off the plane I was relieved to feel the 80 degree temperatures - they were quite unexpected but it was nearing sundown and it was overcast. I noticed many improvements at the airport - shuttle service to the customs warehouse, 1 baggage claim turn track, and much shorter wait times. Getting our luggage was relatively easy. As Tabitha and I pushed our buggies outside we were bombarded with men wanting to help us in return for a tip. I expected this and felt much more prepared this time around. After about 15 very stern “No Thank you’s!” I spotted Don, Roberta, and Adam awaiting us. 

The ride to the guesthouse was not far from the airport. Roberta drove us, like a champ, in an old Ford truck. She is the caretaker at an orphanage that was only a few blocks from our guesthouse. She prefers the term “Children’s Home” because she treats all 30 of her children as her own and they function just as a family should. She has 30 children that call her “Mom”. Roberta has live in Haiti for almost 15 years blessing this country. She was a military brat growing up and lived in many different states: Hawaii, NC, Virginia, and Maryland. She told us that before she decided to become a missionary she was a financial analyst for Bank of America. Her mother told her “You know we just always knew you’d be living on Park Avenue and working on Wall Street”. Boy, did God have different plans for this amazing woman. Her heart is much too big to be wasting her love on numbers. She reminds her mother “Now you have 30 grandchildren and you love it”. I imagined her mother pulling out a small photobook of grandkid pics and it unfolding accordion-style all the way to the floor....this made me smile.

Today, Harry, the Healing Hands Intl. leader found out his 16 year old niece lost her battle with Leukemia. She was diagnosed in January 2010. Some things I will never understand.

Day 2:

Today we drove about 1.5 hours to the school where construction would begin. Upon our arrival we were greeted by many school children in orange & white uniforms. They were all smiles and very excited to have visitors. Their classes were now being held outside under tarps with rolling chalkboards since school had resumed. The teachers were very young and had about a 7th grade level education. There were 4 classes in progress. The kindergarteners were singing “Old McDonald” in Creole. Harry told us that each child who attends the school must be sponsored. It’s $125 a year for each child to attend school 5 days a week from 7am -12noon. Some of the children walk for an hour to get to school every morning. School is always dismissed at noon, so no food is served. 

As we entered the damaged school building it was obvious that no one had entered the school since the quake. The rooms were littered with debris - rocks, concrete, trash, dust. The walls were still adorned with Santa and many coloring book images hand crafted by the children. Many walls were badly damaged and the privacy/security wall around the campus had fallen. Each classroom had concrete walls with green chalkboard paint on the front wall for teaching. As I entered one of the classrooms  I read the script left on the chalkboard since the day of the quake: “Mardi 12 Janvier 2010: Dieu aime les enfants”. The lesson on January 12th was “God loves all the children”. 

Outside, the first task for the team was to rebuild the security wall. Concrete, cinderblocks, and rebar had all been purchased. Against the wall, they also reconstructed the toileting area. The toilet was a concrete U shape that had a hole that was about 20-30 ft deep. The water well from which they drew their water from was about 20 yards from the toilet and it was no more than 30-40ft deep - the water was surely contaminated.

In the alley behind the school there was  family living underneath a sheet tied from the back privacy wall to the side of the school. The alley was about 3 feet wide. This family was sleeping, eating, and urinating here. There were 3 children, ages 1, 2, & 4 years, approximately. The 4 year old was mentally retarded and partially blind. They had her tied down at the waist to an old wooden chair. She was unable to walk, unable to toilet by herself, and unable to feed herself. She had no underwear on and her bottom was directly on the rough seat of this chair where she was tied all day long....the same chair that she urinated in. When I got close enough to her, I could tell she could see me & she knew I was there - she followed me with her good eye and flapped her hands laughing loudly. I called her “Belle” out loud, which means “beautiful” in French creole. I’m not sure if she understood, but she had a beautifully wide white smile that never left during our visit. Her clothes were filthy. None of the 3 children were wearing underwear or shoes. We will take them shoes & underwear Wednesday, now that we have a good guess as to their sizes. The younger two children, one toddler & one baby who was newly walking, were feeding the sister who was strapped to the chair. This was a Jesus moment for me...what a scene. Exactly what we are called to do...to serve one another - this beautiful but heartbreaking illustration was amazing.

At the school we hauled out debris, gathered concrete dust to mix for plaster, swept & painted the few walls of the classrooms that were not damaged. I saw the largest spider I’ve ever seen in one of the classrooms...it was as big as my hand. At lunch time Tabitha and I made PB&J sandwiches for the 20 “blanc” workers and the 17 Haitian workers. We learned early this “blanc” term would become our instant name in a crowd of Haitians, as we stood out like a sore thumb. Blanc means white, if you couldn’t put 2 and 2 together. :) I did notice that after I started referring to myself as a “blanc” to the Haitians in conversation...they laughed very very hard and were entertained by me calling myself a derogatory name.  :)

Later in the day we went up on the roof and looked over the surrounding community. A woman had motioned that there was someone in need in her commune. What I saw broke my heart. About 30 feet on the other side of the back barrier wall was a small makeshift tent made of fabric and tarp. It was about 3x6ft, tied up against a palm tree. The flap over the “door” was pushed to the side and I could see slow movement in the tent. The woman now was gone. All of a sudden a long white stick moved the door flap aside and very slowly out walks an elderly man. He could barely stand & walked very unsteadily to a chair just outside his “door”. I noticed he was looking straight ahead the whole time and feeling everything around him. He was having a very difficult time finding and sitting in the chair. Suddenly I realized this man was blind. I was in shock of the unlikeliness of what I was witnessing. First off, this man was at least 70 years old...he had way out lived most Haitians, you rarely see any elderly folks...Secondly, this man had survived an earthquake being blind. Scanning the commune I noted that all the homes had collapsed inside their surrounding barrier wall. What had this man endured during the quake? I had so many questions. I figured he had surely been injured. I immediately thought of the passage in James 4:17 “Anyone, then, who knows the good they ought to do, and doesn’t do it sins”.  I knew we must help this man in some way. It was obvious this man was in significant pain and had some type of injury to his leg & knee. Looking around the perimeter of the school roof I became overwhelmed with 2 questions “What was I not born here? Why did this happen to them and not me?”. I’m certain I will never know the answer to this question. I felt so overwhelmed with feelings of being so incredibly blessed and then felt guilty for all that I have and how carelessly I use my many resources. Tomorrow I shall visit this man, no matter what. What a day. 

Return to Haiti

I promised many of you communication about my next trip to Haiti, which is sneaking up quickly. I will leave June 6th around 6am from Nashville and arrive in Port Au Prince at 3pm. I can't tell you how excited I am to return & help spread the love of Christ. During my trip I will be the only RN on hand for a construction & architect team of 20. During our trip we will be rebuilding a school & church that fell during the quake. My role will be to serve the community that we are placed in, treating whatever needs come my way, as well as monitor the health and safety of the team.  As I found out on my last trip, need is everywhere. I expect to treat many infections, dehydration, wounds, injuries, malnutrition, etc. As well as simply providing a caring touch - which most haven't experienced in a while. Another exciting opportunity I will have is to speak at the nursing school in Port Au Prince. They lost 30 students in the quake. There are 75 students left. I asked the director of the program what was most needed & he reported they did not have stethoscopes. I have collected about 55 stethoscope thus far! I can't believe how close I am to the goal of 75. Im truly looking forward to spending time with these ladies that are so desperately needed in Haiti right now. I have been asked several times, "Why would you want to go back?". My answer is simple...I feel responsible as a follower of Christ to care for these people. The scenes I witnessed on my first trip I won't forget...as long as I live....and if I did forget what a shame it would be. I have been so insanely blessed...the LEAST I can do is respond to the burden that has been placed on my heart. I know that I can't fix Haiti. Only through Jesus Christ can Haiti be rebuilt. I know I am called to help bring vision to the people of Haiti. "Where there is no vision, the people perish" Prov 29:18. I also know that God said "Ask and I'll give the nations to you." Psalms 2:8. Fixing Haiti is too big a task for me...but nothing is too big for God...therefore I will continue to pray for the rebirth of Haiti and for the vision of Jesus to spread across Haiti's people. Please join me in that prayer. 

- SarahJane