Haiti-day one
It was dark when we arrived. The air was stale, sticky; heavy on our faces, and no one spoke a word. Relieved of my duty to the helm, I took in a deep breath staggered down to the aft cabins and before my head could hit the pillow I was dreaming. I woke to beads of sweat dripping down my face as my only fan was turned off. Sitting up on the bridge deck my eyes and ears were in for a treat. Rising out of the east, fresh above the mountains, the sun broke free over the water. Canoes (later to find they were made out of hollow palm trunks) gathered in groups all around the boat. Voices, all in a jumble, soon flowed together in a traditional melody. Several curious fishermen braved a closer look at the new red boat taking anchor in their bay. They sang louder as they noticed my clicking camera and I took a few steps back as I noticed their fast enclosing distance. The slight breeze coming off shore smelled of fire, houses could be seen scattering the crumbling shore line, and as soon as it was sure to be the start of an exciting day, I became aware and certain of two things: sleep deprivation and traffic-they will never be avoided no matter where in the world one travels. Horns honked, music blared, and even though I had been without coffee for several days (I won’t lie-like four; which is big for me you know) one could not drown me in an adequate amount of coffee quickly enough. I was in Haiti.
Ben and Wanston collected our passports, vessel documents, and log book, jumped into our skiff and were bee lining straight for the customs border and UN office. We wanted to clear in our shipment and ourselves as fast as immigration would allow. No later did one hour pass before both boys were back and brought news of a no-go-for-land. The big boys in charge wanted money in their pockets and when we didn’t oblige of course a messenger had to travel all the way to port-au-prince to get the all-clear-for-the docs-that-float. Well to be frank, this minor, teensy-weensy set back stopped no one.
First day on land-no stamp. Yes. I flashed my big bright smile, batted my big blue eyes, took a bunch of pictures with the guards and UN officers and badda bang badda boom- we were in. I stepped past the rolls of barb wire, through a lower hatch in a large gate, and stepped over more rolls of barb wire onto Haitian soil. Ooooo Aaaaaa. Strangely not nervous at all, I walked right up to a group of boys lingering on a corner wall and took their picture. They gathered and posed beautifully. I learned then that whenever taking a picture of any one here I was going to have to, in turn, pass the camera around to show how it came out…always met with a thumbs up and warm smiles. Ben, Wansten, and I waited outside the gate for about 20 minutes before our driver fish-tailed it around another alley corner. All three of us had by now sweated our entire body weight in water and were three quarters of a gallon in on our carried water supply. Without hesitation, I swung my legs over the back of the truck, sat my butt on the floor, and held my camera out ready for action.
Riding through town my eyes darted from one object to another physically and mentally snapping photos eager to drink in my new surroundings. From the street, I met a community apprehensive to wave, hesitant to smile, and turned up hats. Perplexed brows pushed peoples’ feet forward, but both on their end and mine, caution kept distance between us. Winding through crowded streets I noticed houses still standing, but people unwilling to venture back inside fearful of another disaster; living in tents and under tarps not but two feet from familiar porches. Little fruit stands and goodie stands were crammed in any space made available and trash pilled high in gutters and sewage drains. With only about 5 miles to the medical clinic, I sat back and enjoyed the beautifully decorated houses with bright colors and paintings.
Buses drove by with graffiti words and portraits of Jesus. Motor bikes whizzed by with honking horns carrying up to five people hanging on for life-taxis. Pulling into the medical clinic gates, we were met by two visiting Canadian doctors (Nadia and Mark) and one surgeon from North Virginia (John). The grounds consisted of three large tents in the front for triage, a cement building in the center for surgery, a pharmacy, and administrative purposes, tents filled the back grounds of families, orphans, and others who had no other place to go after the quake, and two other arena tents off to one side for a temporary school for the primary and high school children. I was greeted warmly by the kids. They followed me everywhere I went and asked a lot of questions in French (Dana I wish you were here to translate). The adults stood there distance and watched my every move out of the corner of their eyes. Seeing the children laughing, running, and jumping all over me, the ice was soon broken and adults ventured my way curious to see me up close. After a tour of the facility I sat with the Canadians and Ben to observe the medical analysis process. Our first patient had a large benign cyst on his superior distal shoulder (thats for you Jennifer). All three doctors looked at me and I found myself escorting this gentleman to see John for surgical removal. John’s operating room was in the back hallway of the cement building. No lights. Only a window with a bed sheet keeping out mosquitoes and other bugs was our light source. A folding table with paper draped over for sterile purposes, head lamps for additional light, and a translator who could barely understand English for assistance. Nick began to prep the patient as I helped ready the instrument table and sharps. The patient was on the table face down and it was only then did I notice the feet-no shoes. The Haitians take off their shoes when getting on the table or into a dental chair out of respect for the work place and the professional…interesting. Anyways, one scalpel cut across the lump and Nick was down for the count. John looked at him motioning to a chair in the far corner and then quickly looked up at me. I was on my tippy toes leaning over the body, gloves on; smiling eagerly-John didn’t even ask if I was okay. Without skipping a beat he directed me on every step instantly taking me under his wing…yeah baby blood, guts, puss, and plaque…I love it all. About half way through the procedure a cell phone rings. Our patient leans up, grabs his phone from his pant pocket, and answers it. The room broke out into laughter. I guess we don’t want to interfere with his busy schedule. Time is money you know. Haha never in the USA could you imagine answering your phone during a procedure like this. Haha-oh brother. The morning continued to be the busiest morning John had encountered since arriving in Haiti-he has been here two weeks. I saw most of it all and stepped out for male problems. During lunch john mentioned that his neighbor at the hotel is an oral surgeon from Rome practicing just on the other side of town. If possible I should take the time to go and see him. I finished lunch packed my bag and told Ben I was hell bent on getting my butt to that clinic. Mom. Dad. I got to the clinic safely. San Francisco flashbacks. I jumped in a car with a driver named Tony and about 20 minutes later rolled up to the clinic gates!! Let us recap: illegal immigrant, already up to my elbows in surgeries, finding my way to an unknown place in a foreign country- THIS IS SO COOL! Domenico DDS met me with a firm hand shake and pulled me into the tent to meet Charley DDS the Haitian dentist in charge. We talked for a while and I was soon invited to go with them in the morning on a mobile clinic trek up into the hills of Haiti. YES YES YES.
Day two. Illegal again. So worth the day waiting for me. I just waved at the guards and walked on through. I met up with Domenico and Charley bringing Larson along as a body guard…safety first…haha. We jumped into a car and headed up to the hills. My heart raced in excitement. So many feelings: such wonderful people, high in spirit, trying to put their feet back under them, hard working, polite, respectful, and curious. Did I mention how well dressed they are…there is no way (and my mom knows) I could keep clothes that clean; especially my whites. How do they do it?? I think I am going to like Haiti. By the end of the day, I had visited an elementary school, examined all their mouths, cleaned over fifteen children’s teeth, assisted on the most rudimentary blunt root canal I have ever witnessed, and found my calling. I couldn’t believe the people walking in, touching my heart, and leaving me so quickly. It was hard to say good-bye to the clinic that day, but I would return soon enough.
On the third day we cleared. I was legal…kinda. And this is the day we all have been working over a year to accomplish-the boat was going to deliver all the medical supplies to re-stock the clinic, all the lumber necessary to build a school and orphanage, and clean water systems for over thirty families and their neighbors. Eleven months to build and load while only 9 hours to off load all the supplies from the boat. With the help of several locals, together we managed to work through the heat and do a great thing. From my hands directly to theirs I helped deliver sustainable solutions to a problem far beyond an earthquake. Evidence that throwing money at a problem will not fix it and throwing money to the Red Cross only enhances the lives of directors’ wives and not the nation it pledges to help. I sneeze in the general direction of the Red Cross (veggie tales anyone?).
On the fourth day we rested. We sailed to a near my beach with some new friends and a local boy who worked his butt off for us the days past. The beach was breath taking. Then I jumped in the water and just about drowned in trash. EW. The clear water from above was engrossed in plastic bags, bottles, and the reefs below were homes to cans not fish. I was not impressed. So as the day slowly ended so did our luck. The dark ominous clouds rapidly approaching our vessel soon broke out in a severe heat lighting storm. Like a kid flicking a light switch, on and off went the clouds, while bolts of electricity crashed into the water below. As we hurried to get the anchor up and motor back to the bay, we were met with high seas and instantaneous 43 mile an hour winds. Did you secure the wood on deck? How about the cushions? Crash, smash and into the water they all went. Whoops! Our Captain is a hero. We made it back alive! Seriously-I saw white squall. I wonder what I will do tomorrow??? haha
So far I have had an amazing time here in Haiti. I have made so many new friends both local and from other far away countries. I have new people to visit with invitations to places all over the world and a room whenever I wish. My time here is just beginning but I wanted to write and give an update with my travels. Internet is far and few between and cell phone minutes are 8 dollars a pop. I may not write often and never call, but I am going to come back with many more stories to tell. God has shown me that when the time is right he lets me have exactly what I need. Never being out of the country before this I regret, but then again I wouldn’t have changed a thing after what I have experienced here so far.
Thank-you for all your continuing prayers…they are being answered and I feel their presence every day. From the bottom of my heart-thank you.
All your support, love, thoughts, and encouragement mean the world to me.
MOM DAD DANA and JENNIFER- I LOVE YOU. (I promise to get my passport stamped…before I leave)
