Thanksgiving

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Dia de Gracias as my Spanish-speaking friends call it. It's probably the holiday that I celebrate the most, more than Christmas, even. Every year, my family gets together a week or two before the real Thanksgiving and we celebrate it then, with all the aunts and uncles and grandparents and anybody else who wants to drop by, really. That way, when the real Thanksgiving arrives, we can all relax, eat whatever we want, go to another Thanksgiving in another location, and basically do whatever we want without the stress of Turkey Day and all the preparation and food and travel and closed shops and crazy last-second shoppers and such.

This year, for example, I am celebrating three Thanksgivings. One with my mother's family (we celebrated last Monday, I believe), one in Portland with friends (Veggie Thanksgiving, which doesn't necessarily mean Tofurkey...instead, squash lasagna, sweet potato mashed potatoes, saffron rice, homemade ice cream, pecan pies, etc.), and one on the traditional day with my father's family (the finale and one where I get to see all my relatives I have not seen for months). This is definitely my favorite holiday, even though I'm likely going to outgrow some of my clothes over the two-week-long eat-a-thon.

Hurricane Thomas

(written Friday, November 5th, 2010)

I'm writing this to make sure everyone who may read this knows that we are okay, the Mattenley's are okay, nobody was hurt and nothing was damaged, except the tent cities, who most likely were waterlogged to a certain extent.

Yesterday, Thursday, the hurricane was thought to hit the island and devastate an already tired country. Switching constantly from tropical storm to class-1 hurricane, this post-season storm was acting strangely, and everyone was hunkering down, expecting the worst. I had gone to Delmas, higher up in the hills of Port-au-Prince, to visit a group from Springfield who had arrived earlier that day to see the progress from various Mercy League projects. I knew Lonnie, Emily, Lloyd, Tyler, and the family staying in Haiti, the Mattenley's, so I stayed at the house and relaxed for a few days, also waiting out the storm.

Thomas didn't hit the island yesterday, but this morning at 8am was the projection. Most of us woke up at 7, expecting to batten down the hatches for the hurricane-force winds and heavy downpour that usually comes with a hurricane. 8am came with clouds and a drizzle and as the hour wore on, the winds and rains got heavier, but nothing close to what everyone was expecting.

I decided to chance it and call a motorcycle to take me back home, since the storm seemed to have passed and without signs of it getting worse. A trip that usually takes at least 1 and possibly two hours to make (from Delmas 75 to Santo 19) only took 45 minutes. Nobody was in the road except a few wary tap-taps and some UN troops in their tanks and heavy-duty trucks. When crossing the bridge on the way to Santo 19, we saw the river. I have lived here for nearly a year, and in both rainy and dry seasons, and I have never seen this river so high. It looked to me like it was directly out of a movie, raging water carrying more of Haiti's topsoil down to the ocean.

The driver stopped so I could take some photos, and we joined the throng of bystanders in their ponchos and plastic bags covering their hair. Down on a bit of flat ground near the rough waters was a white journalist with a video camera (this being much more exciting to the Haitians than the high waters). We all agreed that he was fou, creole for “crazy” or “stupid”, and I got back on the motorcycle with the driver and we returned back to the house. Nothing else exciting happened on the trip, and I am glad to be back in the house, although it's bittersweet, as I am packing up my things to leave on Tuesday morning.

Tonight will be my going-away party, and I'm already tearing up. I don't know if or when I will return and I have many friends I will leave here, Haitians and Chileans and Colombians and Americans. I will return to my home to see my friends and family and apply for jobs in Oregon, and keep searching for international nursing jobs, as this has become my passion, my exciting life. I hope to return to Haiti someday, and soon, and hopefully not during hurricane season.

another country (or two)

In six days, I will return to my home in Oregon, along with the cold, the rain, the trees, the familiarity of my home. I will take a moment to reflect on the last year plus a little and say that it has been completely splendid. I came to Haiti to work in the clinic in Santo 19 on September 11th, stayed until December 7th, then returned to my Oregon. I returned to Haiti on February 12th, a month after the January 12th earthquake and I stayed until June 23rd. During this time, I was working at the clinic again, but as the director of the physical rehabilitation center for people injured in the earthquake (I am also happy to report that it is still up and running and functioning MUCH better than I had hoped for, thanks to incredible nurses and therapists like Suzanne and Erica). June 23rd until July 27th, I was at home, trying to find work in Haiti again so I could return to the country I had grown so comfortable in. Without any luck, but with many very good friends at the clinic, I returned. August 10th, my friends left for Chile, leaving me at the house and feeling very sad and unsure about what to do next. I stayed for a few weeks after they left, until August 25th. After my month in Haiti, continuing the job search, I bought a flight to Chile to visit my friends.

This is where my next trek begins. While I was in Chile, I saw almost all of the country, from Puerto Montt in the furthest South to Tacna, in Peru, and many cities in between. I ate seafood in Puerto Montt, bought yarn to make a hat in Angelmo, watched a pig be slaughtered in La Union (something I think I was always remember with sorrow...not something a city girl is used to seeing, nor completely appreciates), saw the Tatio geysers, Moon Valley, and lagoons in the middle of the driest desert on earth in San Pedro de Atacama, visited the oldest church in Chile in Chiu Chiu, saw the Morro of Arica where the Pacific war was fought and Chile gained land from Bolivia and Peru, and in the meantime, saw all my friends and got to meet truly fascinating people. Not to mention really practicing my Spanish.

My time in Chile came to an end October 24th, when I returned to Haiti. I had left most of my things there, so as not to lug them all up and down Chile. This is where I am in my travels so far, at the house in Haiti, with new doctors and new stories. Trying to make contact with all my friends before I leave next Tuesday to return back home to Oregon for the holidays and to find a job.

I'm sure there were some wondering just how I supported myself in all these travels and what I am planning to do next. The next direction in my life has many paths to choose from and I am currently deciding between: finding a job in Oregon, validating my nursing license to work in Chile, returning to Haiti with a non-governmental organization (NGO), or working in a new country. I have sent out myriad applications and am just waiting for one to say "we want you to work in such-and-such country, what do you say?" My preference would be to do international nursing with NGOs, but the problem is that almost all positions require masters degrees and years of experience, neither of which I have. I have experience in other, less quantitative skills, but that are not as appreciated by employers, I think. Thus, my current choice to find a job in Oregon. However, just as a bit of a head's-up, if I get a job in another country, I will beheading out. This seems to be my passion and what I'm good at, and I love the idea to travel, work, enjoy other cultures, other countries, other climates, but to always return to Oregon as my home base.

This is as far as I am in my life right now. 23 years old, looking for international work, practicing my languages, learning new things all the time.

I'm baaaaaaaaaaack!

I wrote this in the airport on the way back to Haiti:

Current status: in Houston airport, trying to pass the time as I wait for my delayed flight. I'm anticipating my arrival into Miami at 12:30am, and I'll try to figure out a productive way to spend my time while waiting in Miami. Sleeping sounds like a splendid idea.

I believe that in every post, I apologize for not writing more frequently, and I think I will stop the apologies and the feeling guilty. For the past five weeks, I have been visiting people in Oregon. At this moment, I am traveling back to Haiti, to work in another clinic.

Being in the airport or any vehicle associated with the airport, it's difficult not to keep a stone-faced, angry-looking expression on your face, when in fact you're simply trying to take in all there is to see and experience. Being overwhelmed with the movement of people is one thing. Then there are the languages. Then there's the anxiety of getting to your assigned gate that seems always to be assigned to the other end of the airport, as a twisted sort of test, with 20 minutes alotted for running time.

Nowhere else can boast the international diversity of an airport, except maybe the vicinity of Port-au-Prince. This is mainly due to the response after the earthquake, with the UN troops and charity organizations infesting the area surrounding Port-au-Prince (smartly, they are not inhabiting Port-au-Prince proper...it is not yet safe enough to be home to strangers who don't know the country very well). I personally know a handful of UN troops, from Brazil, Chile, Colombia, and Nepal, but there are also troops from Canada, France, Bolivia, Honduras, Hong Kong, Japan, India, the United States, and more whom I have forgotten but am not any less grateful for.

Continental just called for Miami passengers to prepare for boarding, and this makes only an hour delay! I am only 13 hours from arriving in Haiti! It's so close, I can practically taste it. Feeling the blazing sun (that always seems to be closer and hotter and crueler than the hottest summer days in Oregon) as soon as I step off the plane. The insatiable desire to find a pool or any for of cooling off. Becoming reaccustomed to the stares and strange but distinguishable language. I am looking forward to it.

Addendum, 29 July: I am at this moment in Haiti, at the house of the America Solidaria volunteers, getting ready to make pancakes for dinner. Breakfast for dinner is my favorite, and we also have some homemade strawberry jam that I made and some manjar (like caramel or dulce de leche) from Chile that we will use in place of syrup. I have been in search of other NGOs, applying for positions with hospitals in the area, and asking anyone I can think of in order to secure a long-term nursing position in Haiti. I spent all morning out riding around to give out resumes and talk with directors and such, and I have quite a sunburn to show for it.

When I do make a final and definite decision about what will happen in the upcoming few weeks, I will post another entry. For now, be sure that all is well, besides the heat, and it just started raining. Thank God for that.

Driving through the Dominican Republic














View from my room in Barcelo Puerto Plata













Sitting by the pool












On the beach in Puerto Plata

A delicate balance between my work and my personal life. Working with sisters, acting as administrator for a rehabilitation center, trying to keep up my nursing skills, and trying to see all my friends here...all this makes for an incredibly busy life here. Today is just about the only day I've had in the last month or so just to myself. It's glorious and it's been going very well so far.

There is a man working here who I have become friends with. I can't remember in previous posts if I have ever mentioned him, but he is an incredibly intelligent man and we talked for an hour and a half this morning, about his life, his hopes and dreams, and what I will be doing about it. Thanks to Brian Doyle for agreeing to help me in this aspect; I'll be writing an article about him for Mr. Doyle to distribute to whomever he sees fit. After hearing about his life, I am surprised to see him so positive, rational, and objective of his situation. When I finish the article, I will post it here.

The main objective of the article is to advertise, in a way, for his education. He received his baccalaureate last year (which is like the SATs, but covers much more and is infinitely more difficult, or so I hear), and he is looking to study agriculture. His views on Haiti, humanity, and the environment, among other topics, are enlightening and inspirational and I hope I can do him justice in my article. In a perfect world, a college professor or dean (fingers crossed) would see the article, become interested, delve further into the story, and accept him to a university. This man is impassioned and vibrant and would be a blessing to Haiti. But that's just my opinion.

In a less upbeat note, but nonetheless a cheery one, the rehabilitation center is continuing, slowly. Meetings yesterday clarified many things and we all feel we can continue with the project, as long as communication stays very open. Eventually, we plan to have 30-40 patients rotating pretty frequently, and probably stay open until October, longer if the need is there.

To continue decreasing in the happy factor, living with the sisters is getting more and more impossible. I am looking for other places to live, but still keep working with the clinic and the rehab center. I love this place and I would like to stay here for a year, or maybe two, but I cannot live with these suppressive sisters much longer, I need a social life, a place to relax, without feeling guilty about everything. And I'd like to live with some people who actually talked to me and appreciated me. Is that asking too much? I think not. Anyway, I'm working on that.

Things are looking up, I have had a few rough days the last week or two, but my few friends here have been looking out for me and keeping me encouraged, as well as my family and buddies in the states. I miss you all more than you could possibly know, and I hope things get organized around here well enough that you can all come and visit and see what it's really like here! I would love to share it with you.

multinational appreciation

Punctuality is not my strong point here in Haiti, so please bear with me. Thank you for your patience.

One of my favorite things here in Haiti is meeting so many people from so many different backgrounds, from just about every country able to send troops to other countries. Besides UN troops, there are NGOs all trying to help in their own little spheres and religious groups doing the same. This past week, a group from the States came to help out at the clinic, with doctors, dentists, therapists, and jacks-of-all-trades. They stunned me with how hard they worked for the week they were at the clinic, they organized everything that had been sent from the States and distributed it to just about any reputable organization that asked.

The two therapists also did a great job with the rehab center, with suggestions and ideas with how to make it function better. Without much experience under my belt, it's difficult for me to know what sorts of things a rehab center needs, so it's been a tough job trying to anticipate and plan for problems. It's working better now, but we're collecting ideas and will probably make some big changes. Just a few days ago, a group from Handicap International came to the rehab center and were impressed with how we work, and they said they could fill up our 30 bed center in about a week, there were so many patients at different hospitals needing rehab. I think we would go a bit mad if we had that many patient so fast. Not to mention there is not enough food or personnel to look after that many people. We're making progress, in the right direction, I think, I hope.

On another topic besides work, a more amusing subject, I was able to take a few days off and go with my Chilean coworkers to Aquin, a coast town about a 5-hour trip from Croix-des-Bouquets. I left Wednesday after lunch, arrived just at sundown, and spent the next four days at the beach, in the city plaza, listening to sensational Haitian musicians, practicing my ever-improving Spanish, and relaxing. Most important was the relaxing. It's difficult to relax when you're an obvious minority (I have absolutely a greater appreciation for minorities), but just sitting on the patio at the house, reading a book, looking at the palm trees and the rain, and listening to the silence that you never really have in Port-au-Prince is so refreshing.

There was a great story that came out of this trip as well. One of the musicians who performed in Aquin on Friday and Saturday was named Beethova Obas. He is not terribly well known, although this makes me quite sad, since I know just how outstanding his music is. It's very Caribbean, calypso, relaxed music. Anyway, the chileans and I, about 8 or 9 of us in total, were on the beach in Aquin enjoying our time, and one of them was looking for a lighter or matches or something like it. A Haitian man offered his car lighter and spoke in awfully good Spanish, from what I understood. I could be mistaken, since Spanish is definitely not my strong point. He then started speaking in nearly impeccable English, with almost no accent, either. We didn't have much of a conversation, and we went back to playing at the beach and he left shortly thereafter, not before telling us he was performing in the carnaval that evening. None of us really registered this, nor did we fully acknowledge the magnitude of this statement. Later, we saw him up on stage performing with his brother, Beethova. We waved at each other and we were just as surprised to see him on stage as he seemed to be to see us in the crowd; quite possibly the only white faces in the entire crowd. Tremendous music, with a neat story to go along with it.

music and gratitude

I love my family. I am currently sitting in my room near the clinic trying to get away a bit from my work today. Each day is so difficult, especially since we're going to start getting patients for the rehab center TOMORROW!!! So, in order to kind of escape, I opened my door to get some wonderful wind into my room, and put in a CD I hadn't listened to before. The day before I left for Haiti, I got to stop by my dad's house and he gave me a CD of songs he had written, from 1975 to 2010...35 years of music, that's amazing. Today was the first day I had enough common sense to know that I needed a break and I needed to hear the voice of some family member. The first song on the CD was my absolute favorite, one that my dad wrote and performed back in the Cat Stevens era. Margo's Music Box. And with the distortion from the record-to-CD transfer, it makes me imagine sitting in a field, dancing around barefoot. Completely brought me back to Oregon, something which I really needed, to get re-centered. Thank you dad.

I had a frustrating last few days, the doctors are getting worried about me and my stress level, but it will subside once patients start coming for rehabilitation and there will be more personnel to take over a lot of the work that I'm doing now. But they look out for me, they're my family here now, my protectors and saviors from time to time. If not for them, I think I would have abandoned this project and returned to the States a few weeks ago. Thank you Julio, Natalia, Paloma, and Alejandro.

Looking over the past blog posts, I noticed there were some comments I hadn't seen yet. One from my mom that was a fantastic pick-me-up. Two from my brother, who I miss terribly and that reminded me that I have the best and kookiest brother. My step-mom has also been writing to me with lots of encouraging words which have not gone unnoticed, they are appreciated and taken to heart. My dad sent me an email today with pictures form my nephew's birthday party...my stupendous brother made him a skateboard. It's true that I miss my family...I don't know if I will be able to last for the next 6 months without seeing them, but I'll do my best. For now, I appreciate all they are doing for me and for not forgetting about me. Thank you family!

And I know there are so many more people who have kept up on praying for me and sending me messages and such...Grandma and Grandpa Butler, the entire Fultz tribe, all the Butler girls and progeny, Allison, Erin, Charlie, Dan, Anali, Jojo, Dominique, Jennie, Gennie, Gracie...I love you all and I appreciate you more than you know.

Such a sappy blog post. I apologize for neglecting the tragic Haitian life, but maybe in the next entry, I will tone down the mushy stuff.

Photos from Port-au-Prince, 28 Feb 2010

A building in downtown Port-au-Prince. About half the buildings in the center of town look like this.








Another building in downtown.
















"Preval, tell Haitians what you are going to do with the country"














"He believes in a better tomorrow. We do too!"











Julio and I on a moto ride! They're my favorite mode of transportation, although dangerous.









A collapsed building, I believe it used to be four stories tall.








A building on the main road, minor damage.

third time's a charm

It's been far too long since my last blog post, but it's not my fault, I tell you! Here at the clinic, with the new doctors trying to get settled and learning Creole, and discovering how the radiography machine functions, and working with sisters in the clinic who don't speak any other language besides Spanish, means there is very little, if any, time for me to just relax and take some time to write my thoughts down. Or type them. Whichever, it's the same thing.

In the past two weeks (wow, it's been two weeks already!!!!!), I have done about 4 or 5 radiographies, two of which were failures and I had to redo. I will be redoing one tomorrow, on a 9- or 10- year old boy who may or may not have broken his pelvis in the earthquake. He's the son of one of the women who works in the kitchen and we don't know how badly injured he was, but he was put in a full pelvic and leg cast, so he must have been in bad shape for a doctor to take such drastic measures. I took three shots today of his pelvis and leg, then as I was developing them, each one I took out was completely black. I had to refer to the on-call x-ray tech, Charlie, back in Tennessee, and find out the problem. Still, I am not sure about exactly what is causing the x-rays to fail, but I will be working on it tonight and hopefully taking some lovely x-rays tomorrow morning. I'll post some photos of my previous, and successful attempts, with a woman with tuberculosis, a boy with an unlabeled and unrecorded forearm cast (the mother didn't know anything about it; where he had gotten it, when, how long he'd had it, nothing), and another girl who goes to school on the compound and thought she broke her writs earlier that day (she had only sprained it, so just a sling and pain meds for her). I'm getting better at it, but just yesterday, the red light bulb burned out and we can't find another one to replace it. After some collaboration with Charlie, I decided to do it mostly by feel, or with the light from my phone, if needed. The biggest part of the problem is that the room is only kept dark by cardboard duct-taped over the door. There is a lot of light that can still enter, and does. Still looking for better options for that.

The new group of doctors (Natalia, a dentist; Paloma, an obstetrician; and Alejandro, a general physician) has started working this week, only working with the previous doctors (Carolina and Gonzalo) for one day. They are doing a wonderful job and I think it'll be a wonderful six months. It sounds so cheesy, mucho queso en verdad, but I really think so. The biggest problem for us is language, but they speak enough English and I can understand and speak enough Spanish that we somehow seem to slog our way through a conversation.

There are an incredible amount of donated medications at the clinic, and we are lucky enough to be able to give lots of the extras to other organizations, like Heart to Heart International. There is also the Red Cross of Colombia staying here at the compound and they are going into the community to do health care for people who can't go elsewhere. Visiting nuns from other countries are also helping around the compound, and that makes for a very international group of people living here (international, yes, but mostly unilingual...I don't know if that's really a word, but let's just pretend it is for my sake. Most people speak Spanish, that's what I mean). A group with Pharmaceuticos Sin Fronteras just left a few days ago, and they will be continuing to help with the clinic in future weeks. They helped to organize all the donations and will be continuing to do so, which will be a HUGE help for the clinic. I am really excited to see so much focus on the clinic and so much assistance for the people around here.

I can't think of much else to write about the clinic, other than it is going really well and I am really enjoying it. It's super hard work and everyone is still trying to figure out how to function, since everything has changed so drastically, but it's still going quite well. I'm excited to be here for the next 6 months. Still haven't made up my mind about one year, it's possible, but I'm only dedicating myself to the clinic for the next 6 months, then I'll make up my mind after that whether or not I want to stay for another 6 months. One thing I must do before I stay for another 6 months is go to South America and visit all my friends there. Chile and Colombia at the least. Maybe make my way up through Peru then Central America, we will see. Before I commit to anything, I have to develop my Spanish. It's severely lacking now. However, I am proud to say I had a bit of foresight and I brought a novel in Spanish (El Leon, La Bruja, y El Ropero). I think I'll start on that tonight, see just how well I do.

Alright, after reading all that boring stuff, I'll sign off. It's about 80 degrees here, I'm at the Cruz Roja Colombiana and I think they'll be starting a movie later (yesterday, it was Casino Royale in English. Excellent.), and it's about time for my dinner, so I'll be heading across the soccer field in a few moments. For everyone in the states (and, actually, around the world), enjoy the Olympics for me and email me if anything exciting happens: margogoboots@gmail.com. I'm glad I'm not being bombarded with the tele and commercials and everything, that's for sure. But living like a nun is just about as much fun as it sounds, so I think I would probably appreciate a little distraction. Thank you Brian and Scott for setting me up with movies and shows and music, it's not going unnoticed.

I'm back!!!!!

(Written 12 Feb 2010)

I'm writing this after only being at the clinic for a few hours. Once we got off the plane, or luxury jet, shall we say, we were picked up by security guards the previous group of doctors had hired. We said our goodbyes to the previous team, a brief picture on the tarmac, ogling Air Force One, having just landed, then into the cars to get to the clinic. Greeted by surprised sisters (Gordon only told Father Joe, who didn't relay the info to the correct or pertinent party), we were given rooms (Liza, I have your old room, by the way), then were off to say hello to Fr. Joe. On the way, I met up with a little girl, Daniella, I had made friends with the last time. She's nine years old and likes to play with my hair and give me earring advice and we trade off practicing French and Creole, both of which she excels at. I was greeted with a kiss and a huge smile, which was the best icing on the cake that is today.

A little later, I met up with Tatan and Beatrice, two women who work in the kitchens, and was greeted with a surprised look, but hugs and kisses nonetheless. I asked after their families, everyone was alright after the quake, and they are keeping busy cooking for about 60 people each day. Actually, more on weekdays, when the clinic is open, since we feed the patients as well. It may be their only meal all day, so we want them to stay as healthy as possible.

This afternoon, there was a ceremony to celebrate the archbishop and bishop in Haiti who were killed in the quake, and to remember the Haitian people; today was the one month anniversary of the quake. After the procession to the bishops' grave site, which is here on the compound, there was a mass. Daniella clung onto me during the mass and borrowed my watch overnight, trying to figure out how to tell time with the watch upside down on her little wrist.

Charlie, a technician here who is working to get the x-ray machine in full working order, was sarcastically disappointed that there was no dancing and no party last night. We all went to bed around 9 last night, though, so we would have been the buzzkills if there had been dancing last night.

So, a recap: I'm thoroughly enjoying my first day here, excited for the next few months, hoping I can do what I have been assigned, help organize the rehabilitation clinic, and improve my Spanish (which shouldn't be hard, since I'm starting at zero. It can only get better from here).

p.s.: I'll be using Skype instead of the phone; it's a work phone and I'm trying to keep personal calls to a very minimum. Emails are also a very good way to reach me:

margogoboots@gmail.com

p.p.s.: Haiti does NOT observe daylight savings time, so we will be only two hours ahead of PST once daylight savings time begins. Don't ask me to explain it, I hardly know how it works.

one week to prepare

ohmigosh, ohmigosh, ohmigosh. I got a message from Gordon on Sunday saying that there may be another spot for me on a FedEx plane that is leaving on SATURDAY! That's right, folks, Saturday, February 13th. That leaves me with all of five days now to visit my grandparents, get my butt back up to Portland, pack my bags, fly to Memphis, and be ready for the flight leaving on Saturday morning. I cannot even begin to express just how ecstatic I am about this. American Airlines keeps postponing their opening of flights from Miami to Port-au-Prince. They just have no idea of when flights will be open now, it's been postponed until further notice. I'm praying and crossing my fingers that there will be an open spot for me on that plane.

I was reading Le Bonheur blog (http://www.lebonheur.org/blogs/lebonheurresponds/?) and looking at pictures, recognized Carolina, a doctor with America Solidaria working at Klinik Sentespri, and almost started crying reading about people I've worked with. Not crying because they're hurt, they're all just fine, but just because I miss Haiti so much and I feel so useless here and, frankly, jealous that they have already made it back to Haiti and are working again. I don't know if it's because USA is such a large country and we have to go through so much bureaucracy, but things are just moving so slowly here! It's incredibly frustrating. So the blog was a much-needed lifeline back to my friends and my other life in Haiti.

The best thing, I think, about going back, is to finally see my friends and colleagues and see that they're alright. I have heard from many people that they were not hurt in the earthquake, but to see them with my own eyes will mean so, so much more to me. To hug them and know, absolutely, that they're healthy and safe will mean more to me than just about anything. Starting work at the clinic again will be refreshing, I will be put to use where I can do the most good. Speaking Creole and French again will also be a joy, improving my communication and becoming more self-sufficient is wonderful in that environment.

Basically, I am over the moon to think that I may be leaving for Haiti on Saturday. A month after the earthquake, I am finally heading back to my other family to see just what can be done to help this country. I'm finally being put to use, doing my part for a country I have come to respect and love and am proud of. I don't know of anything else that can give you this kind of high, this joy, this sense of partnership with the rest of humanity.

Gordon's in Haiti!

I just received an email from Susie, Dr. Gordon's wife, yesterday, then a follow-up today:

Feb. 1, 2010:
"Gordon FINALLY got to Haiti on Saturday. He went with a group of doctors from the pediatric hospital here and they were flown down via FedEx. I've only talked with him once after he got there and he was supposed to be meeting up with a director of America Solidaria to discuss the appropriate time to get everyone back in place. We really didn't know what was going on and he wanted to sum up the situation. He specifically wanted to make sure that there were living quarters available since so many relief workers...mostly clergy...from other places are living on the compound now. So...it shouldn't be long until a plan is in place for everything to be back up and running with you there working. It sounds like they were working on the clinic yesterday to get it organized and functional. Apparently the covered waiting area outside was a disaster with all the crumbled debris from the perimeter wall. Also, the posts holding up the cover were bent and cracked and the entire roof was tilted and not safe."

Feb. 2, 2010:
" I just talked to Gordon and he did say that you would be a tremendous asset down there right not. He is thinking of the right time to have you come...just thought I'd tell you... It sounds rather unbelievable at the compound. The pediatric group from Memphis is working in the clinic along with translators from Louverture Cleary (a school that Haiti Medical Missions used to partner with and hold clinics at before they had their own building)... They have completely made the operating room functional...they have an anesthesiologist with them and all equipment and they are doing surgery...they have done 3 surgeries so far. Gordon has met with America Solidaria and two of their doctors have just arrived that have been before...more later."

I so appreciate knowing that things are going well, although slowly for me. I would like to be in Haiti right now so I could do my part and help, but I will get there soon. For now, I'm glad to know that the clinic is up and functional at the moment and that things are happening there.

It sounds like I'll be heading out soon, I'd like to be there before the end of February. Don't know how much longer I can just sit here, packing up my things, waiting to hear about my plane ticket. Fund-raising and collecting donations is keeping me occupied and right now, I'm at the beach, relaxing, looking for agates, meeting dogs. This is a much-needed break.

I'm going...just waiting for the date to be set.

Well, well, well. Things seem to finally be happening! I just got home after another fund-raiser for Haiti, one last night and one tonight. Altogether, I probably collected about 75 lbs of supplies for Haiti, including clothes, medical supplies, and crayons, among other useful items. I am inspired by the support from my friends and even complete strangers. When I go back to Haiti, I know I have a marvelous group of friends here looking out for me and praying for me.

So, enough with the mushy gobbledygook, on to the stats. Still am not sure about what is going on with the clinic. Gordon is flying to Haiti tomorrow with a team of doctors and mechanics and such, and he will be assessing the situation at the clinic to see just what should be expected. If there are still problems structurally with the clinic, those will probably be addressed first, meaning a group of workers will be sent to rebuild. If, in the best of circumstances, the clinic is ship-shape, we can send doctors and nurses who have volunteered to work in Haiti. Either way, I have been told that I will be the coordinator of the second group of volunteers to the clinic.

In an ideal situation, this is what would happen with the clinic: organize with Medical Teams International and Mercy Corps and set them up on the compound, use the soccer field as consultation rooms or operating rooms if necessary, keep the flow of volunteers constant or have some semi-permanent doctors there so that we can keep the gates open to the public every day, and be a base for medical teams to send out mobile units into the community or to the more rural areas to help those who aren't able to reach the clinic. My ultimate goal is to make the clinic into more than what it is now, make it into something like a hub for other organizations to work from. There is plenty of space, beds, medical equipment (or ability to acquire said equipment), and support to make this happen. I'm keeping my fingers crossed and praying that this will come to fruition.

In the last post, I don't remember if I had updated about the situation with my friends in Haiti. I had been wondering about my friend and fellow classmate, Molly Hightower, who was living in Port-au-Prince at the time. A few days after the earthquake, her body was found in the remains of her apartment building. A man I worked with briefly during my first visit to Haiti in March of 2009 was also a casualty of the earthquake, leaving a wife and daughter. There are more whom I was not particularly close to, but I am as concerned for them as for any other friends I have there. I am not yet sure about what happened to Daniel and Nubia or Jorje and his wife. The Haitian doctors who I worked with at the clinic are still unaccounted for, and I am most concerned for Dr. Hermione, perhaps one of the most gifted and compassionate and strong women I have ever been fortunate to cross paths with. I sincerely hope Dr. Gordon can give me some good news about her, her husband, and a French journalist, Amelie, who was living with them. These are the last I am waiting to hear about, the rest are safe and physically unharmed. My friends from the Colombian UN are all doing well, emotionally drained and exhausted, but physically, none are injured. I have not heard anything about the Peruvian UN battalion, and I am taking this as good news. Nothing on the news about it, so I am assuming the battalion is still in working order.

Overall, I am in a very good state of mind. I am uneasy about not knowing the fate of my friends, but I will be in Haiti soon enough and can be my own investigator and find out just what happened to them. Once Gordon returns from Haiti, most likely he will be in the States on Feb. 6th and I hope to get the word from him on what is the next step for the clinic and a set date as to when I will be shipping out. This time, my goal is one year. I may need to return to the States for recuperation at some point, but I hope to stay and help to make the clinic function better and get medical care to more people. I'll do my best. And before I sign off, I have to put in a huge thank you to every last person who has donated money or time or supplies for this mission. Haiti needs so much aid and love and prayer and I have seen such an outpouring of this, it renews my gratitude to the human race, reminds me that we have not forgot what it's like to reach out to your fellow humans. I tried to veer away from the mushy sentiments, but I can't. At this moment, I'm proud to say I'm human.

Today, I got more information on the clinic. Talking with Dr. Gordon, I learned the Chilean doctors had been evacuated and two want to come back to continue working at the clinic. Currently there are no medical personnel at the clinic and all injured people at the clinic had been taken to the hospital by the MINUSTAH troops. Sister Luz Marina, the nun at the clinic who was also working as a nurse, was taken to the Dominican Republic after having chest pains. She is being tested now for heart problems, but it's very unlikely that she will return. It sounds like there will be another sister taking her place, Sr. Patricia, who is an administrator and will be organizing the clinic very well. I have heard wonderful things about her and cannot wait to start working with her.

There is a group going to Haiti this Sunday, flying into the Port-au-Prince airport, which should be open on Thursday to commercial flights. I'll be working with Dr. Gordon to organize another group shortly after he returns on the 31st.

The clinic is still standing, some minor damage, but we're unsure of exactly how bad. Everyone's safe and no one was injured in the earthquake. A crate was sent from the states full of medical supplies and food and has made it to the compound, so they are distributing it to the Haitians.

This is all the news I have for now, and I'll update it again when I know more.

how to help

Another update from the clinic: the doctors have been evacuated and the sisters and father Joe are the only ones caring for the people there. The Haitian doctors there have yet to be located, so keep them in their prayers. I am still planning on going back to Haiti, whenever Doctor Kraus can get a flight lined up. This may not be for a while, though, we just don't know.

The clinic has been damaged, one of the walls surrounding the compound has fallen down and it was ransacked by people looking for food or water. The nuns and a Swiss nurse there had to lock themselves in their rooms for the night, but they are alright now. Food is the biggest problem right now, there are only so many goats and rice on the compound. The compound has connections with various UN battalions, but they are all stretched so thin right now, it is difficult contacting them. When I go back, I hope to get in constant contact with them so we can turn to them for assistance and protection.

I am going to Haiti as soon as I get word from Dr. Kraus and I will be there for a year, probably coming back after a few months for a vacation. I am working with Haiti Medical Missions of Memphis and if you would like to give donations, send mail to:

Haiti Medical Missions of Memphis
1779 Kirby Parkway Box 319
Memphis, TN 38138

Donations are marvelous, and I am trying to collect supplies to take there. A sea crate has been filled and will be shipped to Haiti soon, but getting supplies from the port to the compound is another story altogether. So bringing stuff in my carry-on is my plan. I am turning to my family, friends, and church to help me with this, so if you can, monetary donations would be the greatest help. Things can be bought and shipped depending on what is needed, especially later on when things have somewhat calmed down.

The Haitians are an incredibly resilient people, but this tragedy will test their faith and their strength like nothing else. Please give what you can and keep communications open with family and friends; don't let Haiti fall by the wayside, keep up the support and the donations, this will take years to rectify.

earthquake in Haiti

I know most of you know what's going on in Haiti, but here's a quick rundown: Yesterday, January 12th, there was a magnitude 7.0 earthquake with the epicenter just south of Port-au-Prince. There were aftershocks for the following twenty-four hours, I think they are still happening now. The clinic I just returned from was due east from Port-au-Prince and I have heard from most people I worked with. The doctors (Fernando, Pia, and Leo) are all okay, the sisters (Luz Marina, Bertha, and Rosemithe) are also okay although I heard one had a head injury or something, the UN troops (Santiago, Ancizar, Omar, Frank, etc) are also okay.

The doctors are very busy, when I last heard, and working on triage. I think the clinic is still in good condition, there seems to be no major structural damage. I talked with Santiago, a colonel with the Colombian UN and he said he was in the UN headquarters when it collapsed, but he managed to escape with only a small injury to his hand. All my friends with the Colombian UN are doing well, there were no injuries other than Santiago's.

There is one person I am waiting to hear from: Molly Hightower. I contacted her family and they are still waiting to hear from her. She was a fellow student at UP with me, we took French classes together and she was working for an organization called Friends of Orphans. Please keep her and her family in your thoughts and prayers.

As of now, I am planning on returning on February 11th to stay for a year. I would love to have some help for the clinic, although I don't know what is needed for right now. I think a good idea would be sheets from the Goodwill or old used sheets if any of you have them. These can be used as slings or as bandages or as bedding or housing or even to make clothing. I cannot think of many other things at the moment, but in the coming days, I will think of more and will post and ask for more assistance as needed. Please keep everyone in your prayers, especially Molly and her family. Encourage friends and family to remember Haiti and donate what you can to Mercy Corps or Medical Teams International or the organization I worked with, Haiti Medical Missions of Memphis.

If you would like to contact me, my phone number is 1(541)914-3958.