What to Title This Post?

            I struggled with what to title this post.  Hypocrite.  Despairing.  Despair to Hope.  Hypocrite.  No matter what idea crossed my mind, I kept coming back to hypocrite.  For those of you who are also Facebook friends, you know that I’ve not been feeling good this past week.  Last Saturday (June 13), I noticed what I thought was a small in-grown hair on my stomach.  Didn’t think much of it.  Sunday morning, the bump had grown and quite a patch of red had developed.  I thought it was a boil.  Fortunately, a person in a group that was leaving the next day had a Z-pack with here and was willing to give it to me.  I started that and thought I was on the road to recovery.  Not so much.

            The redness and hardness continued to grow.  The left side of my stomach was fairly swollen, and it hurt.  A lot.  I started sleeping a lot, but I wanted to give the Z-pack time to work.  Well, by Wednesday night it was just getting worse.  Antibiotics weren’t helping.  Hot compresses weren’t helping.  Sleeping wasn’t helping.  Thursday morning I decided to go to PID, a free health clinic not far from the orphanage.  I arrived about 7:30 and waited outside the gate with a group of others.  After waiting a few minutes I saw this sign: Avi empotan.  Jedi se pou fanm yo ansent.  Great.  Pregnant women only on Thursdays.  I decided to wait anyway.

            While I waited, Marci walked by.  Marci is Haitian and works at PID.  She noticed me and invited me in.  I showed her my stomach, and she said that the doctor would probably be willing to see me before starting with the expectant mothers.  I walked past all the Haitian women waiting, went inside, and sat in the waiting room.  And the tears started.  I had traded on my white skin to get help for myself, knowing that others would have to wait.  At that point Sondra, whom I had just met the day before when she came to the guesthouse to visit Lauren, came in and asked what was up.  I explained and showed her my stomach.  Lo and behold, an American medical team that was to leave in two hours was still there.  She would ask them to take a look at me before they left.  More tears. 

            I hated that my white skin was bringing me privileges denied to others.  I hated even more that I was taking advantage of white skin to get what I needed/wanted.  Hence, the title hypocrite. 

            The doctors did a great job and sent me home with antibiotics, materials to change my bandages, and their personal e-mails in case I had questions.  Last night, Friday, I decided to fly to Miami and go to a hospital to have the abscess checked out.  It’s draining, which is good.  The redness has receded some, which is good.  The swelling is going down, which is good.  But, I worry about having an open, infected wound on my stomach in a country such as Haiti.

            This time I traded on my American citizenship to get things that aren’t available to Haitians and many others.  Gertrude asked whether I had insurance, and I said yes kinda matter of factly, like of course I do.  But it’s not a matter of course.  Not everyone has insurance.  I cried again because it’s not fair, it’s not right that some have so many more advantages than others.  And I have them simply through place of birth and color of skin, neither of which I have control over.  When push came to shove, I put my needs ahead of others simply because I could.  Not too proud of that.

            But, what kind of fool has those options and chooses not to exercise them?  Is that person any better than the one who takes advantage of those options?  How does one determine when to wait patiently for one’s turn like everyone else or when to take advantage of white skin or nationality?  Can one only sometimes take advantage of skin color and/or nationality and not be a hypocrite? 

            I have no good answers.  What I know is that there has to be a way so that we all have access to adequate health care regardless of skin color, socio-economic status, nationality, anything.  I don’t know what that way is, but I will continue to pray that God show us how to make that part of His “kingdom come, on Earth as in Heaven.” 

            So what to title this post?  I settled on conflicted.  

Beach Day

On the way to the beach

          Oh, my gosh, was our day at the beach fun!  We took the four pre-school age kids yesterday (Tuesday), and we all had a good time.  The kids swam and played hard for over four hours and behaved well (well, pretty well).

Just chillin'

          The first half hour was a bit rough because the kids kept wanting to go out too far and then ended up panicking when a wave knocked them off their feet.  It seemed as if all Abby and I did was pluck kids up by the collars of their and drag them back to shallower water.  The kids would get turned on their backs and look like turtles with their arms and legs flailing.
          It's hard to capture in words just how much fun the kids had, so I'll share just a couple of the highlights that made Abby and me laugh:

Alisha

Alisha

          Alisha is about 5-6 years old and is one of the most uncoordinated kids I know.  She struggles to walk on flat ground without stumbling.  It's not a development issue; it's just that the gross motor skills just haven't gotten to where they need to be yet.  Well, she decided to try to run across the beach (think Baywatch opening credits).  She's running.  Four steps into it, she falls flat on her face.  I know that may not sound funny, but if you could've seen it, you would've laughed.  The beach is a bit rocky, and she was running, arms pumping trying to pump, head up looking around, but the feet can't get up over the small rocks.  So, she falls flat on stomach.  Bounces right back up and tries again.  Another four steps.  Bam.  She's back on the ground.  She finally heard us calling her name, and it registered that we wanted her attention.  She turned to us and came running into the water.  And again, four steps into the water she fell.  At least this time the water provided a softer landing.

Alvarez

Alvarez

          Abby had the first round of potty breaks and took three of the girls to to pee.  I got the next round with Christine and Alvarez and got to deal with the caca.  Christine was no issue.  Alvarez announced when he was done so that I could check it out (Is that a boy thing??).  I told him to wipe, and he looked at me and asked, "Moi meme?  Myself?"  Yes, little boy, you can wipe yourself.
          Alvarez decided that he wanted to play lifeguard, otherwise known as "Let me save your from drowning by almost drowning you in the process."  It was hysterical!  Alisha was his most saved victim (she struggled standing in the water, so she was a prime rescue victim).  Alvarez would shout "Sauve!  Sauve!  Save her!  Save her!" and then slow-motion run to her, grab the back collar of the life preserver, and drag her back to shallow ground.  Once she was safely in shallower water, he would shove her back out so that he could save her again!  This went on for a good half an hour, and right before we left, Alvarez saved me.  If it were not for him, you might not have been able to read this post!

Lunch

Christine wasn't too sure about the boat

Lunch

Friends

FYI:  I did get to drive the truck back to the orphanage.  No problems.  Guesly, our driver, even said that I was a good driver.  I think he was a bit surprised that a female could drive so well.  I think it's time to practice a bit more on the streets of PAP!

Slow Internet

I have some great stories to tell and pictures to share from today, but the internet is freakishly slow tonight.  I will try again in the morning.

New Things

           Every time I come here, I want to try new things so that I can feel more comfortable in my surroundings and become more independent.  Today's "new thing" was going to the Xerox place to print the therapy schedule and the therapy charts for the kids.  Doing these things forces me to use my language skills and teaches me how things work in Haiti.
          I was able to get the stuff printed without a problem.  It's watching how the system works that fascinates me.  Americans are all about self-service.  We have it at our gas stations, ATMs, and even in the grocery stores now.  So little in Haiti, though, is self-serve.  To get my stuff printed, I entered a small room and waited along with about 15 other people.  There was no real line, but everyone seemed to know in what order to go in.  As one person finished with a computer guy, someone would take the customer's place and then we would all shift seats.  It became apparent that the closer you moved to the front of the sitting area, the sooner it would be your turn, but even then there wasn't a distinct order like if you're in this line of chairs you go to this computer guy, and if you're sitting in this line you go to the other computer guy.  I've noticed that Haitians seem to struggle with lines.  I've seen it in the airport, on the streets, everywhere.
           Back to the self-serve concept.  In the States, if I wanted to print something at Office Max or make copies there, I could just go in and do it myself.  No need to have an employee do it for me.  But, in Haiti that's not possible.  I go in, wait my turn, sit at a computer guy's desk, and I tell him what I want to print.  He then prints it and gets it from the printer.  I then take my receipt and go back out into the hallway to pay the cashier.  She marks the receipt "paid," and I take it back to the computer guy to prove that I paid, and he gives me my papers.  He then stamps the receipt again.  Another thing I've learned is that Haitians love their stamps!  Everything gets stamped multiple times by multiple people.
          This system is incredibly inefficient, so I wonder why it still exists.  It must serve some purpose.  Over the years here, I've come to the conclusion that it exists so that more people have a job, which means that more people have an income, which means that more people have money to spend to stimulate the economy.  In the American model, this same work would be accomplished by one person instead of four.  But, then you have three more unemployed people.
          Yet, I see bits of hypocrisy in myself.  I point out the inefficiencies of the Haitian system because it "inconveniences" me, but in the States I intentionally choose a checkout line in the grocery store with a cashier because I feel that the self-checkout lines have taken away jobs from American workers.  Every time I use a cashier, I believe I'm showing the store that I value that employee and see a need for that person to be working at the store.  So why do I criticize the Haitian way when it's what I choose in an American grocery store?  I don't know.  I'm gonna have to think about that.

Tomorrow's New Thing 
          Abby and I are taking the pre-school kids to the beach tomorrow, and I get to drive the white truck there!  Gertrude gave me permission to drive--yea--but she does want to send a driver with us in case of . . . something.  While I know that I am capable of driving the truck to the beach, I am glad that we will have a driver with us in case the police question me at the check points, or I have to buy gas or something.  Wish me luck!

From Calm to Crazy

This morning was so calm.  I attended the first Haitian worship service in which I understood most of what was going on.  That so rarely happens here that for the most part I just don’t go to church while I’m here.  Well, I had heard about a small church near the orphanage, and I wanted to attend.  Turns out, a friend of Gertrude’s that I know, Pedro, attends there.  It was so much easier to walk in knowing that I would see a familiar face.  I arrived at 7:30 because Pedro said the service ran from 7:30-10:30. 

Well, the 7:30 start was for Bible study.  Pedro directed me to the women’s group.  Bible study in Haiti is very different from Bible study in the U.S.  The leader lectures the group on a topic, and the group memorizes the subject, the 2-3 key points, and Bible verse.  Just like in school.  Everything is lecture and memorization.  Bible study lasted until about 8:40, and then something really interesting happened.  The pastor went up to the altar and began quizzing the different groups on what they had learned!  Each of the classes had to answer questions, and then the pastor had prizes (a pen or a notepad)to give out to people who could answer harder questions correctly.   Each group also did a collection, and the pastor announced which group brought in the most money.  After that, recognition was handed out to the groups for singing, guests, and two other things that I can’t remember right now. 

About 9:00 the worship leader stepped up and we began praying and singing.  The lady next to me had a Bible and song book, and I sorta peeked over so that I could read the verses and sing the songs.  It was pretty much the first time that I could actually participate in a worship service here.  I liked it.  About 10:00, the pastor went back up to the altar and introduced the guest speaker.  My guess is that typically the pastor would preach at that time. 

Pedro had asked me to stay after so that I could meet some people (the pastor being one of them).  While I waited, a number of people came up to me to say how happy they were to see me there and asked me whether I would be back.  Absolutely.  When Pedro introduced me to the pastor, I realized that I had already met him.  At the airport.  In August 2013.  He recognized me there because he had seen me driving my red motorcycle!  He had invited me to visit his church, but didn’t know where it had moved to.  Now I know!  The only “icky” part of the morning was the request for money.  I should’ve seen it coming.  Pedro and the pastor explained that they needed money to finish the building, buy a bit more land, etc.  They asked whether I could help them, maybe ask my church, get money from my friends. I made it clear, but that I made no promises!

Driving the tap tap!

The calm continued into lunch.  I chatted with Rachel for a while, spent time up on the roof working on my grad classes, came back down to chat with Rachel.  And then it was time for Rachel to head to the airport to meet her group and head off to Les Cayes with them.  And the crazy began!  Gertrude only had one driver, and she needed two.  I stepped up and offered to drive the tap tap.  At first she resisted, but I wore her down.  I headed out with Abby, Rachel, Esther (Rachel’s toddler), and Rosie in the back of the tap tap.  It was awesome!  Maybe I could move her and be a tap tap driver?  I discovered, though, that the front seat didn’t move back, and most Haitians are pretty short.  Shifting was an issue because my knees were in my armpits.  And Rachel’s bag only fell out once (not my fault . . . she put it near the back of the tap tap and wasn’t holding onto it).

Safe arrival at the airport

We got that run done and came back to the orphanage.  And, it was time to turn around and pick up a group of 24 that was staying here just for the night.  Gertrude wasn’t comfortable with me driving the tap tap with “real” people and their luggage in the back, so she found a driver from a friend to take us back to pick up the group.  After waiting for the group for over an hour, we finally saw them coming up with their piles of luggage (35 bags total).  The way the airport works is this: if any of the airport porters even touches your bad, he believes that he should be paid for his effort.  The group leader had hired one “boss man” to help his group, and the rest of the workers had to go to the “boss man” to get any money.  Oh, my gosh, the loud talking that ensued!  At least eight men were shouting and getting in each other’s faces about who should get money.  The “boss man” kept waving around a blue piece of paper proving that he had been hired as the “boss man,” which he had been.  The poor group members were standing with stupefied looks on their faces during all this.  We finally got all the people on Leonard’s green bus so that they could head back to the orphanage.  We stuffed only about half the bags in the tap tap.  I finally shouted that Abby would go back on the tap tap and that I would stay with the remaining bags until the tap tap could return (and, I actually said all this in Creole and was understood!).  Silence.  The men looked at me like “Hey, that’s a pretty good idea.” 

Luggage to be guarded

The tap tap drove off with Abby standing at the back making sure that no bags fell out.  I remained with the “boss man” and talked about how great he had handled the situation.  We are now friends; I even have his phone number so that if I need anything at the airport I can call him.  When the tap tap returned, we barely fit all the bags in!  I had to squish in the back with one leg straddling a bag, my butt on the bench, and my other leg sorta hanging out the back of the truck.  And I had to lean across the back of the truck to keep bags from falling out.  Craziness!

Shoes, Shoes, and More Shoes

          Yesterday and today focused on shoes: measuring kids for shoes, finding shoes for kids, finding the right shoes for kids, and tracking who needs new shoes for next year.  Honestly, that whole process to way less time than I thought!

Abby and Gabrielle waiting to walk

Gabrielle's checking out the street

          I had anticipated measuring for shoes to take 1-2 days and then finding shoes for our walkers at least a whole day.  Finding the right shoes for our walkers could have taken anyway from one day to a week, depending on what was on hand in the depot.  Well, everything was done in a day and half.  Nothing in Haiti goes that smoothly.  Nothing.  With Abby's help, we were able to get all the kids measured for new school and P.E. shoes in just a couple of hours.  This morning we found walking shoes that fit the kids perfectly in about 45 minutes.  We were even able to take the two girls, Gabrielle and Sandra (more about them later), on their first walk in the neighborhood.  Then, we had to head over to Chedner's to measure a couple of his kids for shoes.  I typed up the list of kids and their needs and sent it off to Soles4Souls earlier this afternoon.  Project done in less than 36 hours.  Dang. we're good!

Our Walkers

          I think I mentioned in an earlier post that we had five kids who needed to walk daily in the neighborhood as part of their therapy.  Our first foray out did not go so well because the kids didn't have good enough shoes.  Today, however, we were able to take out the two girls in the walking group: Gabrielle and Sandra.  Gabrielle walks fine; she just needs the stimulation of getting outside the compound walls, learning to follow some social rules, and being forced to keep going when she doesn't necessarily want to push herself.

Sandra

Sandra and Lauren

          Sandra is the one who needs to walk so that she doesn't lose the ability to do so.  I'v learned a bit more of Sandra's story in the few days I've been here.  Her mother brought her to Notre Maison/St. Joe's back in November.  Sandra is nine years old, and up until she was eight, she was a regular girl talking, laughing, running around playing, feeding herself, etc.  Then she started having seizures.  And she lost the ability to do all of those things.  Her mother could no longer care for her, so Sandra was brought to us.  She still suffers from seizures when we run out of the medicine that she needs, which we are out of right now.  Sandra was a trooper on her first day out, making it all the way around the block.  When we go back, I took her into the therapy room for some stretching and a massage.  She was so tired that she fell asleep during her back rub!  I'm looking forward to working more with her in the coming weeks.
          Tomorrow is the boys' day out.  There are three of them, so I will probably need to make at least two trips around the block, which is okay by me.  I love taking the kids for a stroll--it's good for them, and it's good for me!

Random Events

1.  During therapy with Nahomie, a severely handicapped girl, I notice brown liquid on the floor by her head.  I picked her up and, swear to God, though a small worm and worked its way outside of her skull.  Serious turn of the stomach.  It wasn't a worm (duh!), just a boil that had broken open.  No wonder the poor girl was crying while lying on her back!

2.  Again during therapy, Abby looked up from working with Derson and shouted to Alvarez, "Stop playing with the gas can!"  Don't all small children play with flammable materials?  Nothing is off limits as a toy with these kids.

Spot It with the kids

3.  At Chedner's this afternoon I taught the kids to play Spot It.  I learned quite a few new Creole words (not that I can remember them all right now), and the kids caught on quite well.  In a couple of weeks I'll take over Spoons and see how that goes!

4.  Chedner's kids explained that their T.V. had been stolen and asked if I could get them a new one so that they had something to do over summer vacation.  When I said no, they shared that a small one would be just fine.  The answer was still no.

God's Day

Kids waiting patiently

          On Tuesday Gertrude started talking about decorating for the God's Day celebration that would happen today.  We kept asking what it was, and all she could explain was that God's Day came 15 days after the ascension.  I googled it and couldn't find much.  The only thing that I could find on Google was information about "God's Day" being the Sabbath.  Apparently, God's Day is a major Catholic celebration around the world, but none of the American Catholics here had ever heard of it.
           I didn't let my lack of knowledge keep me from participating!  Both Abby, the intern, and I helped corral the kids while we waited for the procession to arrive.  And we waited.  And waited.  We finally saw and heard a procession coming and got all ready.  But, they turned to the right instead of the left, going away from us!  Thinking they had the directions wrong, Gertrude sent Rosie, her daughter, and Safie, her niece, running after them.  Turns out is was a Catholic procession, just not the one from our church.  So we went back to waiting.

Decorations for our stop

          I decided to head inside to grab a book and read while waiting, and about 10 minutes after settling in on the steps, we thought we heard music.  We gathered the kids and ran outside.  Lined up.  No procession.  So, I went back upstairs to send some e-mails.  Barely got my laptop open before I heard the shouts about the procession coming.  I didn't move.  Not fooling me again.

Procession at our gate

         Third time's the charm!  This was the right procession from the right church!  Good thing processions move slowly because I had time to get downstairs and outside before the group turned the corner.  I didn't understand all the words, but I did get that they were honoring sacraments.  We joined the procession while it continued onto the last two stops (there are five stops in the procession) before heading back to the church.  Even though I didn't understand all the words, it was pretty cool to walk in the streets with everyone singing, dancing, clapping, and praising God.
          It wasn't until earlier this evening that I figured out what God's Day is (thank you, Susan, for knowing what to google to get the right information!).  It's known as the Feast of Corpus Christi which is celebrated on the Thursday after Trinity Sunday.  After a mass, there comes the procession of the Blessed Sacrament, which is what we participated in.  In Haiti, this day is a national holiday, and many schools are out of session (ours were).  I guess it is up to each school to decide whether they have classes or not, but the schools that do have classes will have a celebration of some sort during the day.

Abby on the back of a tap tap

          In other business, Abby needed a phone, so we headed back up to Star 2000 to get it.  This time, though, I introduced her to moto taxis and the tap tap system.  I remember how thankful I was when someone finally showed me how to get around a bit on my own so that I could have some freedom, so I hope in a couple more trips she will feel confident going out on her own!
          I sure wish I had thought to put sunscreen on at some point during the day.  I'm not quite glowing red, but it's close.  I don't know whether it would help much, though, because I sweat so much that it wouldn't last long!  Oh, well.

Learning

          I love being here.  And I love the ideas that come up for all the great things that can happen here.  I know a fair amount, but I don't know it all.  Not even close.  I read through the physical therapy reports for the kids, and there are five of them--Jean-Daniel, Maxo, Brilner, Sandra, and Gabrielle--whose therapy is to do as much interactive play as possible on their feet.  Well, those kids aren't ready to interact with anyone, so I decided that those kids could start by going for walks through the neighborhood.

Jean-Daniel, Wilsly, and me

          I knew Maxo and Jean-Daniel would be good to go, especially Jean-Daniel.  Maxo took a bit of coaxing, but once he got going he was great.  Brilner didn't want to go, so I had some of the volunteers hold his hand (one for each hand).  He did okay, but every time a car or moto or bicycle went by, he would plop down.  Don't know why, but for some reason he was scared of the vehicles.  We decided to take him back to the orphanage after a short bit, but when we got him back, he plopped down and cried.

I love Jean-Daniel's smile!

          We found shoes for Sandra who needs to walk or she will loose the ability to walk.  The nannies keep her in a wheelchair most of the time because she seems to have pica (she eats everything).  They can't keep an eye on her all the time, and if she wanders the compound by herself, we have no idea what she is eating: garbage, rocks, soap, etc.  Well, we couldn't find good shoes for her, and they kept coming off, which bothered her.  I learned that proper shoes are WAY important. These kids won't benefit from the walks if they don't have shoes that are comfortable.  I don't want them to dread the walk because the shoes hurt or don't stay on their feet.  I learned that Sandra needs one-on-one attention when she walks.  There's no way she could be a part of a group walk.

Maxo and his escorts

          I used to take Brilner on walks before he could walk himself.  I'd carry him down to the market for a treat or take him around the block.  He loved those walks.  Smiled all the time.  I so wanted him to have that same enjoyment today.  That didn't happen.  Made me sad.
          I had naively thought that the group that needed to go on walks would be an easy easier therapy task.  Yea, I was wrong.  I will probably need to go on five walks a day around the block.  But, before I can do that, I will need to search out shoes for each of the kids that fit, find a place to put them so that they are easily accessible, and tone down my expectations.  I learned a lot today.  About the kids.  About their needs.  About me.  About what I know.  And especially about what I don't know.

All in a Day's Work

          Tuesday was a busy day.  We started by cleaning the therapy room which is nearly impossible to keep totally clean.  Drives me nuts!  I like things put away in their proper spot.  That rarely happens because so many different people use it.  My plan is to put like toys together and then label the containers (in both English and Kreole).  I have a sneaking suspicion that all will be in order for about two minutes, and then things will look like they typically do.  I may just have to get over my need for order when it comes to the therapy/play room.  That could hurt. 

Healing Haiti helps with washing toys

            A group from Healing Haiti came while we were cleaning, and their help was tremendous.  What would have taken us all morning took only about an hour.  That saved time allowed us all to go out back during recess time and play with the kids.  Healing Haiti groups come 1-2 times each week to help out, and it is a blessing for the kids who then get some much needed attention from adults.

Great group from Healing Haiti

Clean mats!

            I spent the afternoon shopping around town for storage bins.  Abby came with me because I want to make sure that she gets out and around Port-au-Prince while she’s here.  Our first stop was Deli Mart.  They pretty much had nothing we could use.  Frustrating.  Then we had the driver take us to Delmas 2000, which is a department store sorta like K-Mart.  The driver overshot the store, thinking we wanted to go to another Deli Mart, but we eventually ended up at Delmas 2000.  This store has a little bit of everything.  Seriously.  A little bit. Of everything.  We finally located storage bins, picked out what we needed, and headed to check out. 

All the bins we could not buy . . at first

Abby the intern

            Unfortunately, my credit card didn’t go through.  Bless her heart, the cashier tried about six times and brought in managers to help.  Nothing worked (I had forgotten to notify the credit card company that I would be traveling in Haiti, so they blocked the purchase—this was one of the numerous things I forgot in the packing process).  The good news is that they agreed to store the items for me until today (Wednesday) so that I could come back and pay for them.  I don’t why that shocked me, but it did.  So, today I head back to Delmas 2000 to get the bins.  The credit is working again, but I am taking enough cash just in case we run into glitches again!

          Well, I did make it back up to Delmas 2000, and the credit card did not work.  I was not impressed.  I did have the cash to pay for everything, so it turned out okay.  I still had to go across the street to Star 2000, another grocery store, and buy dinner supplies for Gertrude (fixin's for lasagna).  Most of my cash on hand had been depleted at Delmas 2000, so I wasn't sure whether I had enough.  I decided to try the credit card again, and it worked!  I took back all the nasty thoughts about the credit card company.  I guess Delmas 2000 just won't be getting much of my business this trip!