Middle O' The Week Report

Thursday Jan 8, 2008

Over the last 2 days we have met a lot of people, made some new connections in Haiti, worked in clinics and on sermons. But most importantly, I drove for the first time and am alive to tell about it.

Yesterday, I had clinic in Karfour. On our way there, the traffic wasn’t terrible, so Patrick and I switched seats. Although my heart had the Galloper beat in gallops per minute, Patrick says I did pretty well. I didn’t kill the clutch, didn’t kill us, didn’t hit any innocents, and the car wasn’t emitting any strange smoke and/or smells like it did after my first attempts at driving manual with my dear friend Emily. Granted, there was no bumper-to-bumper traffic on a vertical hill, but today I celebrate baby steps. And my first step got me over the initial hump of fear that lies entirely in the anticipation of driving in Port-au-Prince.

After walking through the narrow, twisty dirt road that weaved between houses to the Karfour clinic, the nurse greeted me. She warned that we wouldn’t have too many patients today--a blessing in disguise because my translator didn’t show up.

I’d like to speak here of the recent evolution of my internal emotional state. I’m not really sure how or when it happened. It could be that I snapped. I remember a time last week where I was volleying ferociously between elation and frustration just as wildly as ever, and even a moment when I was ready to throw in the towel. But then something changed. The yo-yo game of my state of contentment has resigned into a more peacefull, zen-like state; for a few days now, I'm able to let go of the things that drive me batty. I hope this evolved state stays around for a while (Patrick does too, I"m sure). But I can honestly say that when no translator arrived, I wasn’t fazed. Here we go. Dive in and do my best.

About 15 patients wandered in during the morning, a large change from the lines of waiting people that usually assemble when the doctor is in. The nurse said it had to do with the holidays, and that the clinic had been closed for a while, so news hadn’t yet spread. The Pastor of the neighborhood had apparently stationed himself on a busy road with a bullhorn announcing my presence in clinic. Horrified (a break in the peace) I told him to tone down his advertising campaign since my translator was a no-show and getting through a patient exchange safely was going to require lots of page flipping, charades, miming, and improvising.

The patients did come. Most had complaints about their vision, others problems with gastritis. One woman who carries heavy baskets of fruit on her head all day told me her back and neck give her pain once in a while. An unusually large Haitian woman sat down next to me complaining of heavy breathing with walking. She was quite overweight, and was not at all surprised that I suggested she loose some. “I don’t want to loose weight because I want to be sexy” is essentially what she told me. This was verified by the nurse. Although the body image view was admittedly refreshing and a break from anorexic dreams of American women, I was saddened that the pendulum had swung so far in the other direction for this woman.

I met with a man who had horrible, end-stage dilated cardiomyopathy who just wanted my advice about the medicines and any further interventions. He was kind enough to bring in the records from his cardiology appointment. I enjoyed being a counselor again, a teacher, even though the news wasn’t good. He was only 45.

Two people had me worried: a young man with night fevers and an older man whose story had tucked within symptoms of cancer. They both seemed receptive to further diagnostics, and today I was able to tell them where to go which was solid proof I’ve made some progress here.

After clinic, Patrick and I met up with a good friend of ours from Washington D.C. who was in town. She formally worked with Beyond Borders, and now is working with Ministry of Money and looking into bringing groups from the States down to Haiti. It is an amazing feeling to see a familiar face here, and she introduced us to a lot of new people that make up part of her network in Haiti. Suddenly our circle of acquaintances had doubled, and we found ourselves amidst people with a wealth of experience, of thought, of gifts, of information about living and working in Haiti. Expansion of community is one of the most exciting parts of our time here.

One of the people we met was a Haitian theologian who was responsible for translating the bible into Creole. An incredible spirit, he welcomed us into he garden, sat with us and discussed Christianity in Haiti. This man was one who admitted to not having the answers, pondered each thought, and who, despite his accomplishments, sat humbly with us taking part in conversation and sharing.

Today we were back at CONASPEH. We met again with Dr. Laplaunch and gave her a tour of the CONASPEH facilities and engaged in a discussion with the head of the nursing department, Mdm Fano, and the Villiers. Again, I was left a little lost when conversation slipped from English into Creole and later into French, but I watched Dr. Laplaunche give her proposal and discuss how many things were possible with the right approach. I felt like she was able to ask some pertinent questions about the nursing school and get some good feedback about it that I have not yet successfully done. I was glad to see her present a similar approach to program planning as I had, reminding me that maybe it wasn’t all Americanism that colored my ideas, but just the systematic approach doctors take to solving problems. Regardless, the people in the meeting seemed very receptive. I know the budget will be the biggest set back to getting things up and running, but I’m hopeful.

Tonight we just got back from a rendezvous with on of our newly met friends at the Hotel Olofson—a historic place made famous in novels and that has weathered the history of this country. The early century French architecture still characterizes this virtual mansion of a hotel, but the years and gravity are weighing heavily on the façade. Our friend joked that the hotel was still standing due to endless layers of paint and the interlocking of millions of termite jaws. But rarely do you sit in a place that takes you back in time. And certainly the hotel did so.

Tomorrow we take off on a new adventure to visit Cap Haitian to visit a medical facility there as well as a CONASPEH church. For now, I close and wish you all a bon nwit.